8/10/2007

 

Story Time: The Boy Who Didn't Have to Go to the Mean Mighty Fortress After All

There once was a boy who lived in a city full of magic trees next to a beautiful lake ruled by a very thin and very rich white haired man in an ugly brown castle with copper rooftops. One wintr'y eve in November, the boy decided to meet a few furry friends down at the local pub for a frosty pint of ale. Of course, that was followed by several more frosty pints of ale, as well as several doses of Witch Tessa's magic silly potion. Much mirth and merriment was had until the hour grew wee and it was that time when you don't have to go home, but you can't stay there. Afterwards, the boy had hummingbirds in head and his thoughts were clouded by bubbles. He could have rode home on the back of a giant tortoise or even stumbled the short distance back to his bamboo lean-to. Instead, the boy was very bad and made the regrettable decision to drive his Model-T Ford home. As he was leaving the grassy knoll next to the pub, he was quite unable to see what was coming up the lane due to a giant rhinoceros standing right in the way and blocking his view. So, he slowly pulled out into the lane, not seeing the friendly police officer that was a stones throw down the way. The boy made it 20 feet down the cobblestone road before the friendly police officer turned on his merry flashing lights. The boy knew this meant that the friendly police officer would like to have a delightful chat. The friendly police officer was very curious to hear all about the merry time the boy had that evening at the pub. The friendly police officer asked the boy to do a wee jig and say his ABC's and looked deep into his eyes with a jolly bright light. The friendly police officer decided it would be great fun to invite the boy back to his mean mighty fortress to take his picture and meet all the other friendly police officers. The boy was quite frightened because he had heard that the mighty fortress was a terrible place, with scary hairy monsters in bright orange jumpers. The friendly police officers at the mean mighty fortress made the boy play a strange plastic flute that made no music and asked him many wonderful questions. In order to leave the mean mighty fortress, the boy had to call the money troll who lives in the big oak tree across the country lane from the fortress and arrange for a big bag of shiny gold coins to be sent to the friendly police officers. Several long hours later, after they had finally received the big bag of gold coins, they opened the gates of the mighty fortress and no trumpets sounded as the bleary-eyed boy was sent off back into the wintr'y night. The boy decided there and then that he would never again drive his Model-T Ford after enjoying pints of ale and Witch Tessa's magic silly potion. Several moons passed and the boy was summoned to the dusty fusty Hall of Judges to receive his punishment for driving his Model-T Ford after enjoying pints of ale and Witch Tessa's magic silly potion. His highest honor Judge Gottalottaneckties listened like an old hooty owl to the boy's tale of mirth and merriment and his unwise decision to drive his Model T-Ford. He then heard about the boy's fun adventure with the friendly police officer as told by a prosecuting attorney with big hair the size of a mulberry bush. Kind Judge Gottalottaneckties spared the guilty boy a long stay back at the mean mighty fortress and instead assigned him to 10 days of civic work duty in the city full of magic trees. Also, the boy was required to pay many many bags of gold coins to the she-gnomes that live in the dim cold basement of the Hall of Judges. His honor also told the boy he was not allowed to drive his Model-T Ford anywhere for many moons. The boy would have to pay many more bags of gold coins to the she-gnomes before he was finally legal to drive his Model-T Ford again. Kind Judge Gottalottaneckties told the boy he had three months to complete his civic work duty in the city full of magic trees. The boy was very busy working the at the toll bridge over the sparkling purple river and finishing his studies in Art and Electricity. Also, the boy was quite anxious about the notion of civil work duty, afraid that he would be made to do something quite undesirable like sorting through stinky garbage or shoveling elephant dung at the peppermint patch. After putting his civic work duty on the back burner for several months, the boy finally worked up the courage to do it. Much to his surprise and delight, it really wasn't so awful. Several times the boy was able to help care for cuddly kitties and puppies at the Humane Society and another time he helped the happy villagers put together a mighty corral for the rainbow ponies and then they had a mighty feast of grilled cow and honeydew melon and he actually enjoyed the 105 degree weather that day even though he got a terrible sunburn. The boy realized that the kind judge's deadline was fast approaching and that there was no way he would have all his civic work duty days completed on time so he wrote a letter to the kind judge meekly asking for pity and more time. The kind judge granted the boy's request but alas, the boy was painfully attacked by Cavity Creeps and then fell into the blissful trance of prescription narcotics, which rendered the boy useless for civic work duty. He was able to complete several more days, but he soon realized it would be impossible to finish by the new deadline. In a combination of bravery and desperation the boy wrote another letter to the kind Judge requesting another extension. Weeks passed with nary a peep from the chambers of kind Judge Gottalottaneckties and meanwhile, the boy talked to many other villagers and wise lawyers who told him that they'd never ever heard of anyone being granted a second extension and that he should just get ready to show up at the mean mighty fortress to live for 20 days with the scary hairy monsters in orange jumpers. The boy nearly had a nervous breakdown thinking about who would water his venus flytraps and feed his piranhas and growly tigers. Would he have to quit his job at the toll bridge? Would he have to share a cement room in the mean mighty fortress with a toothless meth junkie or a bald blockhead named Bruno with confederate flag tattoos? Would he eventually get so hungry in there that he would have no choice but to finally break down and eat disgusting horsecock meat sandwiches? He never wanted to find out, but since weeks had gone by, the boy had pretty much resigned himself to the idea. His neck and shoulders were tense and he couldn't really sleep at night or enjoy his bowl of hot garmonbozia. Then yesterday, the sexy postmistress brought an envelope to the boy's lean-to and it was glowing with white light. The boy's heart raced as he saw that the envelope was from the hallowed chambers of kind Judge Gottalottaneckties. He pulled a thin sheet of beige parchment out from within and read the words "Extension granted until August 31." The boy burst out with glee at the realization that he was no longer facing the threat of horsecock meat and burly Bruno for 20 days, he just had to spend more days caring for puppies and kitties and planting fence posts, much preferable to time in the mean mighty fortress. The boy felt as if a mighty huge cloud of gloom and doom had lifted and disintegrated in the summer sunshine. He jumped with glee and reeled with the urge to send the kind, merciful judge delicious butter toffees or 14 purple roses as a token of gratitude and devotion. He celebrated with another visit to the local pub for frosty pints of ale and Witch Tessa's magic silly potion, but this time he left his Model T Ford at home and got a ride on the back of an Avocado Llama. The End.

Comments:
What a lovely story and thank god for avacado llamas.. just make sure one is always available... goodness knows, you shouldn't have to eat horsecock sandwiches!
 
What a wonderful story!
 
This was a magical tale full of wonderment and delight. I thoroughly enjoyed this.
 
Oh hellz yes. Patrick, you know how I love your writing - wildly.
Old news I know, I know.

But, I swear to Gawd and his Mighty Bowl of Froth
that I've just been born again


You are special, you know?
Don't cackle at me, bish, I mean it.

-Jenny's crackhead twin,
Angela
 
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