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 Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5])

"Gods of confusion..." by Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5])

SciFi/Fantasy text 5 out of 12 by Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5]).      ←Previous - Next→
 
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Once upon a time, a pair of adventurers set out on a quest, forgot what that quest was, got hopelessly lost, and ended up taking over the world.

On another world, there are vampiric trees.

On yet still another world, false gods of a different kind rule all... or at least, think they do because they're so drunk.

On that same world, the cultures collide on a tangent in which one solitary witness escapes to tell the tale... riiiight.


Whahahah, I had to write this... all because of the hiphopolatamus that Audrey Totire did.
*smiles and starts purring*

O_O?!

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¬.¬

The insidious god of fried chicken drippings stood slowly, relishing the fervor of the moment and not at all wanting to get up off the couch. However, duty called. A landlubber mermaid, probably the one who had been bothering him last week, was abusing that of which he was deity – again. He knew this because, being a god, he was all-knowing.
Okay, not really: in actuality, his annoying manservant had procured yet another over-the-top water gun and had soaked him with it, simultaneously relaying the news.

Irritatedly, he lumbered over to the manservant and wrenched the water-gun off the guy's back, nearly collapsing from the weight. Then, with a final heave, he toppled out the door and down the ornately decorated, if somewhat littered by beer cans, stairs, landing in an ungainly heap at the bottom and shattering the water gun.

The insidious god of fried chicken's head hurt. It did that a lot lately, but this was a different sort of hurting, as in, it was an indirect result of drunkenness instead of a direct. Proving that, if it were a direct, his head wouldn't be bleeding. But, sadly and depressingly, gods cannot give up. He stood up suddenly, and would have returned to kiss the ground with his brain as existence reeled around him, had not that persistent manservant been looming just behind his current position.

“Sir, you forgot your banana,” the annoying servant said tonelessly.

The god slowly and agonizingly turned to glare at his manservant, although the effect was mostly ruined by the fact that he was soaking wet and also still had to rely on the guy in order to remain upright. “Odwall, don't you think that if I left without my banana, I probably meant to leave without it?”

“I don't know,” the manservant replied in the same toneless voice. “You told me before not to think. So I don't.”

Glaring, the insidious god finally got his balance and stumbled a few steps down the plant-encrusted street, before whirling back to the motionless servant. “Odwall, my steed!” he ordered, wiping slightly dissolved, crusty splotches of vomit off his ornate robe.

“I'll get the Flamingo, sir,” Odwall replied crisply, and then smoothly turned and glided toward the stables, floating a few inches above the ground.

The god of fried chicken drippings glared after him and tried to look godly as he waited, but naturally failed miserably. So he went back to glaring, since it was all that he was really good at... besides drinking, that is. Then, as the god's brain was beginning to shut down from all that exertion, Odwall returned with the prised Giant Undead Flamingo From Hell.

A few moments passed while the god contemplated his Flamingo, but when it became obviously apparent that he had no idea what to do with it, Odwall hoisted him into the saddle, strapped him in, and turned the bird in the right direction. Then it ambled off, and as the figure of his god slowly diminished in the distance, Odwall was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief and make a series of seriously demeaning faces at the retreating figure.



A few meters away, a manhole cover slowly raised itself a few centimeters and a pair of curiously orange eyes peered out.

“What is this world coming to?” the owner of the eyes muttered. Inside the manhole, another pair of eyes turned to regard the first owner impassively.

“Don't try to convince me that you even know what world this is,“ the second owner said. “Face it. We're lost.”

The manhole cover eased down once more, shrouding the two figures in complete darkness.

“Lost? Of course we're not lost. I know exactly where we were and exactly where we're going. Therefore, we're simply between there and there!”

“Thats what you said on the last planet we went to. If you'd care to recall what happened there, we were very nearly eaten by a giant fanged steak, and it didn't help that there were several vampires of the normal kind chasing after us as well, coincidentally also trying to get their sustenance from us.”

“I still don't understand what was wrong with my idea to use that steak on them... and besides, its not like we didn't find a way off that jungled hell–”

“Shh!”

“Although I do find it kind of odd that that god guy would use one of the native flamingos from there as a steed–“

“Shut up!”

Amazingly, the chatterbox did, and after a few moments of lightness silence, they heard a rustling noise.

The one previously too busy talking to hear the noise shrieked.

“Oh, for the sake of serenity...” the other muttered and produced a ball of light, revealing the culprit: an animated glob of partially congealed newspaper. “Well, I admit, that wasn't quite what I expected. But still...” the figure trailed off, noticing her companion. “Was your hair that color when we left?”

“What?” the other, a Wielder of Giant Broccoli dressed in an oddly shaped tunic and really baggy black trousers, asked. Her hair was a soft blue-white, contrasting oddly with her violently flame-colored wings and matching eyes.

The magician, a short gnome-like creature in an acid-green sequined dress that overwhelmed the damp ground beneath her feet, replied blankly, “Never mind.”

There was a long silence. Then the winged one said, “I still don't think we're lost. After all, its as they say: 'You're not lost until you see a hiphopolatamus.'”

The light went out. “What?!” asked the magician blankly. “What illegal narcotic substances have you managed to procure this time?” But the other remained silent for a change and simply raised the manhole cover to look out again.

“Oh crap.” The orange eyes winced. Then she hoisted her companion up to the level of the street, while still holding the manhole cover up with her wings. “Okay, fine. We're lost.”

Outside the manhole a bizarre creature consisting of a unicorn's head, a mer-person's tail, a lion's paws, an avariel's wings, and many other miscellaneous parts too obscure to name lolled on the roots of a nearby tree that had broken the road nearby to to it to pieces. Muffled laughter matching the voice of the gnome-like creature echoed from the manhole as the cover slammed shut.



Little Billy Jiyas stood on his mother's ornate porch sucking a lollipop as he watched all this come to pass. His eyes widened alarmingly until it seemed that they would pop out of his skull. Finally, he wet his pants.

“...Mommy?”




←- Discrepancies | Mirages -→

DateNameComment 
30 Jul 2006:-) Megan Proverbs
No one does blissful surreality quite like you do, that's for sure. All I can really say is... I want a giant undead flamingo!!!

Oh, and there are some typos, but they're on my other disk and I can't be buggerooned fetching it...

:-) Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5]) replies: "Comment From The Elven Delivery Man: *pops into existence along with a large crate*
*holds out a clipboard for Megan to sign*
*starts to wander off and passes out* ...I think he's drunk. But that should be your flamingo right there in the crate. ^.^"
12 Aug 2006:-) Aubrey 'Toshiko' Walters
o_O I think that does describe some of what I think. It was really interesting, the few typos that my tired brain did pick up on were more or less just there to me. I pretty sure it wasn't my lack of sleep that made 'Commenting on Gods of confusion' funny, because most this really don't make me smirk and giggle out loud when
I'm like this.

Good job!

22 Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5]) replies: "O_O I'm not entirely sure I comprehend what you're trying to say...There are typos, yes... I'm too lazy to find them, though. >.As for what you said shortly after that... Huh?I suppose a 'thank you' is in order for your saying 'good job'... "
3 Dec 200645 Naomi
OOO! a new one that is an old one that i haven;t read. will so be back to read...mmmhmmm...

:-) Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5]) replies: "Hmm? Are you sure thats a good idea?"
12 Dec 2006:-) Dragonflies2
*grins* i love it hahaha. And the little blurby bit at the top. Maybe add that in the story. That would amuse me...Hehehehe i love it.

Where do you get the ideas from? And what in the world is fried chicken drippings?

:-) Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5]) replies: "I get my ideas from an extradimensional portal that spews forth small, aphid-like creatures with a tendency to eat pieces of partially decayed newspaper. In other words, I have no idea.I also have no idea about what fried chicken drippings actually are, either. They just sounded interesting and suitibly senseless."
6 Jan 2008:-) Karen-Birgitte "Ellemerr" Borud
I like flamingos. O.o
Your writing looks a lot like your commenting. I like both, though I have a little trouble comprehending all of it. Most of the trouble comes from me not having English as my mother tongue, though some of it without doubt comes from me not being able to take in the depths of your greatness.
... Or something like that, anyway.
... I think I’m listening to a cheese being eaten by a lion, howling for help. Which adds to the randomness I’m experiencing in your realm. It’s an odd think my head don’t explode from all this randomness. O.o

...
Yeah. What I tried to say above is that I liked the story. O.o

:-) Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5]) replies: "Depths of my greatness? Dear, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but, but my greatness has no ’depths’. Its more akin to a puddle of mud, especially in the fact that it quickly evaporates quite often. O_o Or something.

You know, flamingos weird me out... eh, but I’m glad you liked this.

Although, I have to admit: this story does amuse me rather more than it ought."
23 May 2008:-) Jacob Bowdin
So, I thought it had been too long since I read some of your amazingly odd and random, yet very entertaining stories.... here goes.

"The insidious god of fried chicken drippings stood slowly"
-We shall quake before his greasy and deep fried wrath...

"“You told me before not to think. So I don’t.”"
-’Tis a painful thing... thinking...

"Giant Undead Flamingo From Hell"
-Ummm... well... enough said on that topic...

"The one previously too busy talking to hear the noise shrieked."
-Random shrieking... always funny...

HA HA! Oh, that ending was just great, I laughed for a lot of the random things in the story, but the ending was hilarious! Great story.

:-) Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5]) replies: "Well, I think its been too long since I’ve written any stories, amazing randomness aside...

"Ow. Ow!"
"What’s wrong?"
"My head... sudden pain, and with it... words, and images!"

Yay, rednecks... ^^

The ending, I believe, was the result of actually finally getting around to reading the Elfwood rules. Something about Billy Joe, I think... though I can’t remember. I haven’t read them since, certainly.

Anyway, I am very pleased you like it. *bows*"
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'Gods of confusion...':
 • Created by: :-) Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5])
 • Copyright: © Kim Schoonover (FreeBSD/i386 [moose] [ttyv5]). All rights reserved!

 • Keywords: Birds, Death, Elsewhere, Epic, Foo, Hidden, Kanata, Lost, Oops, Quest, Rogue
 • Categories: Angels, Religious, Spiritual, Holy, Extrateresstial, Alien Life Forms, Humourous or Cute Things, Magic and Sorcery, Spells, etc., Mythical Creatures & Assorted Monsters, Vampires, Zombies, Undeads, Dark, Gothic, Wizards, Priests, Druids, Sorcerers...
 • Views: 711

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