The Enchanted Hair Brush Part 22

I thought that after we had discovered that odd magical cottage in the forest, that things from then on out would be different… However, here were once again running through the forest, this I believe is becoming a reoccurring theme for our group. And this time we were with the brave responsible adult who was trying to help us get to the Superior Realm, turns out that you don’t stop being afraid when you get older. You especially don’t stop being afraid of giant Demon Bunnies from the Underworld. Sir Champagne and the Giant Demon Rabbit were following close behind us. Sir Champagne was riding on the back of the giant beastly creature.

“Where did that thing come from?!” Chris shrieked.

“It’s a renowned Demon Rabbit from the Superior Realm! How could I have been so foolish,” Yaga chided herself. “I should have known that, that was how Lord El Stinko was getting the cheese out of the Underworld. He’s using the rabbit to run errands for him on the other side! It’s brilliant really, for an insane clown. El Stinko must have summoned him somehow.”

We continued to run but as we did I knew that it was hopeless, the rabbit was going to catch us for sure. “We’re done for,” I said in despair looking over my shoulder. The rabbit didn’t even seem to be trying anymore, it was so fast on its hug fuzzy feet, and we were so small compared to it that it wasn’t even a fair contest really.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve yet!” Yaga cried. Even as she spoke she had one hand inside another pouch in her backpack, she was fishing around for something. I hoped it was a giant bear trap that we could throw behind us and hope that it would take down the rabbit. Of course we would probably need something a little more potent than a bear trap—probably more like an elephant gun.

Finally, Yaga found exactly what it was that she was looking for. “Ah ha!” She cried in triumph. I looked over to where she was running by my side. She had a wooden hair brush in her hand.

“Ah, no offense, but now isn’t exactly the time to be brushing our hair!” I shouted. “I don’t think that the Demon Rabbit will appreciate it much if we brush its fur either.”

“Silly boy, this is no ordinary hair brush.”

I waited for a further explanation but as we ran she simply threw the brush over her shoulder. Nothing happened at first, but then I heard Sir Champagne give a shriek of rage like a little girl having a tantrum. I looked over my shoulder to see the rabbit suddenly increase its speed as if its victims were going to escape. But, it was too late, the brush suddenly erupted! Each of the tiny bristles in the head of the brush began shooting upward toward the heavens, and suddenly widening and sprouting bark.

 “Trees?” I asked. The trees grew so rapidly that the pink rabbit didn’t have time to jump over them before they were too tall. And they were so thick that he wouldn’t be able to gnaw his way through either with his yellow fangs. The line of trees was so long that they extended for as far as I could see in either direction behind us, as well.

“Amazing!” I said.

“Isn’t though.” Yaga replied. “I’ve been saving up the energy from trees for so long inside of that brush, I never thought that I would have to use it so soon though, she said. Magic really is quite incredible.” Yaga smiled mischievously.

To Be Continued…

The Return of Sir Champagne Part 20

His face was red and blistered from where the sizzling sausages had struck him in the face, like tiny meaty battering rams. The blemishes made him resemble a blushing toad more than anything else. He did not look happy, even though he maintained his air of nonchalance. Unfortunately, the spicy juices had not left him blind, as I had early speculated that they might.

With a flourish of his wrist he pulled out his long monocle on a stick and put it to his eye, so as to better look down his nose at us. “I see you’ve found an old friend of mine,” Sir Champagne said sarcastically gesturing toward Yaga with a flick of his monocle.

"Wait!" Chris interjected. "You mean to say that you two actually know each other?"

"I’m afraid that is indeed the case," Sir Champagne confirmed. "The famous Baba Yaga and I go back a long, long way, of course I can see that the years haven’t been kind to you my dear…" He remarked snidely. “I presume it’s accurate what they say: ‘vermin of a feather do indeed congregate mutually…’” (I didn’t like his rendition of the popular saying either.)

“That’s rich,” Yaga replied coolly. “For a man who has an affinity for hanging around deranged delusional clowns, is it not Champagne?”

Champagne sniffed disdainfully and ignored Yaga’s bighting comment. “Surrender the brats over to me now,” He said smoothly. “And I will let you go free old hag.”

Yaga chuckled, a deep sort of challenging chuckle, like a cross between a naked mole rat and hyena. “And just what do you think to do to me, you little half-brained twit. Sing at me? You know that your talent will not work against my magic.”

Sir Champagne smiled a little half smile. The kind of smile that left me with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach that gave me the impression that Sir Champagne was about to pull a nasty card out of his sleeve, the likes we knew nothing about.

Yaga’s lower lip pulled downward into a slight frown. She seemed unsure.

She took a step forward. But as she did Sir Champagne reached into his pocket with another impeccable handkerchief and pulled out of the depths of his long tailed, suit coat a lump of something mysterious, fuzzy, and dark orange in color. The soft lump began crumbling in his hand even as he held it. I didn’t know what it was until I smelled the horrible stench that emanated from it. It was another cheese!

I covered my nose and mouth with the inside of my shirt. The smell of the cheese was so potent that it almost made me faint on the spot luckily though I kept my scenes, and was able breath more through my nose. I saw Chris next to me also struggling for breath before she too, sputtering and choking, followed my example and pulled her shirt up over her nose and mouth.

Yaga didn’t seem to have any problem with the cheese in the least. She breathed deeply as if probing the air. “Ahhhh, Bloatanagousnastifungopolis,” Yaga said, apparently identifying the moldy orange fuzz sprouting out of the rancid cheese. “Another excellent specimen from The Curds of Wrath. Tell me how did El Stinko manage to travel to the Superior Realm and back again and maintain what little sanity he has remaining.”

“I’m afraid that would be confidential.” Champagne said covering his own mouth with a separate lacey handkerchief. “You may find out of course if you ask Lord El Stinko himself when you go to visit him, willingly, as my prisoners. I do hope you come willingly, corpses you see can’t ask questions.” Champagne glanced at us and back at Yaga. “You know what this cheese can ensure, so I’m warning you, surrender now, you don’t stand a chance.”

“What will it do?” I asked nervously.

“Bloatanagousnastifungopolis, is a nasty fungus that has the property of making whatever it touches expand to incredible sizes, and fill with helium gas, which then causes the victim to float into outer space.” Yaga said all of this in a matter of fact sort of tone. A tone that didn’t, I felt, portray accurately the seriousness of our predicament. All Champagne would have to do was through the crumbly cheese and all of the tiny curdled missiles would pelt us like putrid hail, we would be toast for sure. Or rather, giant fleshy balloons. Take your pick.

To Be Continued…

Retrieving the Golden Wand Part 19

“What’s that?” Chris said suddenly waking up from out of her deep crystal ball gazing.

“Yaga has agreed to help us.” I said cheerfully she’s going to take us to The Curds of Wrath so that we can destroy that cheese once and for all.

“Oh!” Chris said. “That’s great! I guess I missed out on more than I thought.”

“What did you see in the crystal ball?” I asked curiously.

“I can’t remember,” Chris said sadly gazing off into space. “You just made me forget with that exciting news…”

I rolled my eyes. “Alright then,” I said turning back to Yaga. “How do we start, and when do we get out of this forest.”

“We can begin as soon as I have my most powerful golden wand,” Yaga said grimly.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Mr. Thumb has your most powerful wand?”

“Yes,” she replied blatantly.

Of course, I thought. It just so happens that the one time when Mr. Thumb can actually be useful to us we ‘vanish’ him to some unknown location on the globe.

“We don’t know where he is.” I said sadly.

“Well then we best get looking for him then.” Yaga said. She walked over to a small closet and pulled out a small leather backpack. “This has everything that we are likely to need on our journey,” she said. “And I suppose that I can finish your training on the way. I might be a magic user but I do know a thing or two about talents. More than that idiot Mr. thumb at least.”

“How did you learn so many things?” I asked her.

“Well, over the millennia you pick up on some things,” She said. “Talents are a particular fascination for me, because they are so rare and most of them are new originating somewhere around the 1990’s. I have an obsession, you see, for things that I don’t know nearly enough about.”

The sun had already risen, we hadn’t slept at all that night but for some reason we didn’t feel at all tired. It must have been that strange blue rose petal tea, I thought. I also felt more optimistic about life in general. I didn’t know what was going to happen to us on our journey but it just felt as if we were now on the right track.

We stepped out of the doorway and into the sunlight and began to walk toward the trees. But as we did, I noticed a figure leaning against a tree stub filing his already perfect gleaming nails.

“It’s about time you egressed from your shanty,” Sir Champagne said in his lilting voice.

To Be Continued…

Curds of Wrath Part 18

Section of the Curds of Wrath Cheese Factory

“Now it’s your turn to ask a question,” the woman said. She seemed more eager now to answer the questions than she had before.

“Well…” I said. “Let just imagine that somebody happened to have the cheese with the fungus. How could one get rid of it, without causing a biological disaster?”

“An interesting question,” Old Yaga chuckled. “So you do have the cheese after all. I figured that El Stinko wouldn’t spend so much money on a professional assassin just to take out two kids. You are very fortunate to be alive. Champagne isn’t one to let his prey escape so easily.”

I looked down out of embarrassment. Yaga had figured out that we had the cheese much more quickly than I had imagined.

“Not to worry child,” She said. “I have no intentions of helping Lord El Stinko with his smelly cheese. And I’m afraid that you are correct there is no way of getting rid of the cheese without causing a biological disaster.”

“Couldn’t you just destroy it with your magic? Turn it into energy or something?” I asked.

“No, I’m afraid that the fungus is completely impervious to all powers. It is quite harmless, unless you eat it, I’m sure you’ve noticed as you’ve carried it around with you this whole time. However, the fungus can definitely protect itself.”

“There must be some way that we can get rid of it.” I insisted.

“Well…” The old woman pondered, ”there is one way. But you may not like it.”

“Tell me,” I said simply. “We need to get rid of this evil.”

“Very well, if you must be so melodramatic.” Yaga said. “In order to get rid of the cheese, you must cast it into the curd from whence it came.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“Ah, but here’s where things get a little complicated. That particular cheese mold can only be cultivated once every ten years in The Curds of Wrath.”

“The Curds of Wrath?” I asked questioningly.

“The Curds of Wrath is a giant cheese factory that is found in the underworld of the superior realm. It is the home of all deathly cheeses. All of them can give you absolutely horrible gas.”

“The Superior realm,” I said out loud. The place sounded familiar. I was sure that I had heard Gothgora talking about the superior realm before. She had said something about that that is where all invisible friends come from, or did she say that, that was where they all went after they had died? In any case, I was sure that I had heard of the superior realm before.

“How do we get there?” I asked eagerly.

“Now hold on just a second,” Yaga said. “That’s two questions that you’ve asked already. I think it’s about my turn.”

“Sorry,” I apologized. “Ask your question.”

“Do you have any idea what the underworld is?”

“Ah, sort of,” I said, “isn’t it sort of like heck.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” Yaga said. “But yes it’s the worst sort of ‘heck’ that you can imagine: with horrifying beasts that would just as soon eat you on a cracker with that smelly cheese of yours rather than look at you.”

“But if the monster ate it, wouldn’t that get rid of the cheese problem?”

“ Not at all, the mold would only multiply and spread by spore into other foods throughout the superior realm sucking all the powers and magic from that world, and that would mean no more invisible friends for our world and the source of all mystic powers for our power would also cease. You would be doing exactly what Lord El Stinko wants. That is how the fungus propagates by using the feces of animals to…”

“That’s all right I don’t need to know how the fungus manages to uh, propagate,” I said slowly. “However, I do need to know how I can get into the superior realm, how to get past all of the nasty beasts in our way, and most importantly how to get our cheese into the Curds of Wrath.”

The old woman sighed.” It will not be easy,” She said seriously. “But if you think you must go there alone you are mistaken. I’m coming with you!”

To Be Continued…

The Cottage of Destiny and Chickens Part 17

“In witchcraft,” the old woman explained. “You sacrifice something and convert it into energy, then you either transform that energy into something else, or you can put it into another item. That’s how you get interesting enchanted items, like Excalibur for example.”

“Wow,” I said. “Well if that’s how magic works then how do talents work?”

“Talents as far as I can tell, function through energies inside of the body. While witchcraft uses external energy, Talents seem to only use internal. I think it’s sort of like a reservoir or a dam that slowly fills up over time. Then once you have enough power you can release it all at once to do something incredibly powerful, or you can release it in little bits to do other less potent things…”

“That makes sense.” I sipped the bitter tasting tea that the old woman had made for us from blue rose petals. It was a kind gesture to offer us the hot beverage on this slightly chilly night, but the drink tasted of cottage cheese and smelly feet.

The inside of the hut was very cozy if not odd. All over the room there hung old dried herbs and hot peppers. And there were long purple and red strips of cloth that hung from the ceiling in plush comfortable loops. On the walls were ornate picture frames and, strangely, inside of them were pictures of chickens. In the corner rested an enormous pot and a long rod protruded from it, it was exactly like a giant mortar used for crushing up powders for medicine. And in one corner there was a long desk filled with all sorts of interesting knickknacks. A skull, a bunch of black feathers, various metal rods that I imagined could be wands.

“This place has great chi.” Chris said. “Great for doing a little bit of crystal ball gazing.”

“Fascinating.” The old woman said, as she watched Chris pull the ball from her purse and begin staring into it.

“I’m sorry we never asked you what your name was.” I said.

“Ah,” The old woman said turning back to me stroking her pet mole—not to be confused by the giant mole on her face. “I have many names…”

“Which do you prefer most?” I asked somewhat confused.

“Well most people call me Yaga, I suppose, that seems the most appropriate at this time…” She paused gazing off into the distance as if remembering some long forgotten past before continuing. “If people ask me too many questions I grow weary,” The old woman said yawning. “So let’s make a deal. If you ask a question then I get to ask a question.”

“Alright,” I nodded in agreement.

“Okay then, now it’s my turn to ask a question. Where is that annoying Mr. Thumb now?”

“I didn’t know what she might do to Mr. Thumb if she found out, she looked fairly serious. Fortunately for Mr. Thumb, I didn’t know where Mr. Thumb was.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know exactly where he is, or if he is still in existence,” I said. “I sort of ‘vanished’ him while he was trying to train us with our talents.”

“Yaga’s mouth turned up into a half smile. Well with all good luck he has ceased to exist. But my guess is that he’s still out there, that incessant trouble maker.”

“Why do you want to know where he is?” I asked curiously.

“Mr. Thumb has something that belongs to me,” Yaga replied. “Something that I borrowed to him a very very long time ago. Unfortunately, he has forgotten to return it to me. Forgotten on purpose, if I know that Thumbkin!”

“I see,” I wanted to ask what it was that he took but it wasn’t my turn to ask the next question.

“Why are you two kids traveling about in the woods this late at night and all by yourself?”

It was a good question, one that covered so many topics in one breath. “Well I’m not sure exactly where to start with that question. Chris and I met about a month ago, at a Wendy’s about five or so miles from Liberty. Before that I escaped from my evil aunt and uncle and set out to find my own destiny. On the way though, we ran into Lord El Stinko…”

The old woman’s eyebrows raised in recognition.

I continued. “We accidently discovered that El Stinko has been taking over Wendy’s establishments all over the United States in an attempt to feed everyone a toxic cheese that will take away all powers from those who eat it. This would leave the world horrible dry and depressing.”

“Quesonastifolopugus,” Yaga said, nodding her head slowly. For an old woman who lived out in the middle of the forest she seemed rather well informed. I thought better of telling her that the cheese was actually in our possession, just in case she wasn’t on our side.

“Of course, now that we know about his plot, El Stinko wants to stop us. He hired an assassin named Sir Champagne to take care of us, and he showed up on the day that we vanished Mr. Thumb. That was why we were running through the forest, and why we knocked on your door this night.”

“My cabin,” the woman said. “Turns its back to the forest and toward all those who really need shelter. It really is remarkable that you were able to find my house at all, and indicates that you two have a significant destiny in the future that will change the history of the world forever, for good or bad. A few years ago a certain gnome appeared on my doorstep, as well. A clown really in the form of a gnome who needed my help.”

“El Stinko,” I gasped, remembering what Mr. Thumb had said about Liberty. That it was an enchanted city that attracted all the worst criminals to it eventually. Mr. Thumb using his magic would then transform them into garden gnomes.

“He needed me to transform him back into a human,” Yaga said. “And it’s never easy transforming something back to how it used to be.”

“And you did?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes. I’m afraid I did,” the old woman said grudgingly. “But then again he too was able to find my front door, even though he was in the form of a garden gnome…”

“That means then that his destiny is also very important,” I confirmed.

“Yes,” she agreed. “But I’m afraid for the worse.”

To Be Continued…

The Woman with a Mole Part 16

“What is it!?” Snapped the old woman. “Have you come to stare at my mole too?!”

Beyond the doorway an old woman was standing before us. It was the most hideous thing that I have ever seen! Upon her face was sitting, or rather, living just above her upper lip a humongous brown, purple, and black mole.

Cupped within the old woman’s hands, however, there was a light brown fuzzy creature about the size of a gerbil. It’s a mole, I realized.

I didn’t know how to respond to the old woman’s question.

 

“Ah…” Chris seemed to be having an equally difficult time articulating what it was that she wanted to express. Both of our eyes were darting to and from the hideous mole on the woman’s face to the fuzzy creature within her cupped hands. So I did the best thing I could think of when you don’t know what to say: Change the subject.

“Wow, what a lovely night it is tonight,” I said lamely.

The old woman cocked her head in confusion.

“Uuumm yes,” Chris said picking up where I left off. “It is very lovely, but it’s just a bit cold outside, and you see we don’t have any place to stay for the night in this dangerous rabid weasel infested forest. When we saw your cottage we wondered if you could spare us a room until morning.” Chris smiled hopefully.

The old woman glared at us with her beady black eyes suspiciously.

“Where did you two come from?” She asked. “There isn’t another town around here for three days… Unless…” She said musing.

“We came from Liberty,” I responded. “Mr. Thumb was helping us to train with our powers. Perhaps you know him?”

“Mr. Thumb,” The woman said growling slightly. Her eyes narrowing and her teeth were grinding as she hissed his name.

I suddenly had the feeling that it wasn’t a good idea to mention Mr. Thumb’s name in front of the old woman.

“That blundering fool! I bet he wasn’t much help to you considering that the man can only use magic!”

“Magic,” I said in wonder. “But there’s no such thing…”

“Ha! Don’t be so naive child,” The old woman scoffed. “You live in a world in which random people around you are endowed with strange talents, and some are even given invisible friends. Of course there is magic in this world! Mr. Thumb, as if happens, is one of the only males in the world who can use sorcery. That idiot is a part of the Secret Society of Sorcery for crying out loud! But I suppose he forgot. He is rather forgetful sometimes.”

I shook my head feeling more and more as if our time spent with Mr. Thumb had been a complete waste of time.

“Oh, well, dearie. There was no way that you could have known, no need to get down on yourself. Come on in, I suppose, it is cold outside lets have some tea.”

The old woman invited us into her cottage. But after our conversation I had almost completely forgotten that the house indeed had chicken legs beneath it, and that the woman, perhaps, could not be trusted.

Shudder....

Just in case you ever have a mole like that old woman here is a useful link: "Curad MediPlast Corn Callu and Wart Remover (Case of 150)"

To Be Continued…

Attack of the Mounted Gnomes Part 14

Suddenly all of the bombs that Mr. Thumb had been storing up in his basement, in preparation for World War 3, decided to spontaneously combust. Everyone who was in the house died.

The End

That’s what it would look like if everyone died in a horribly unimaginative and boring way…

 Now this is how everything really happened: (Just making sure you were paying attention.)

Sir Champagne's voice was quavering and disgustingly high pitched for a man’s voice, and it was very much like Sara Brightman’s voice but coming out of a man’s body. The resulting undulating tones were absolutely nauseating to hear. I lost all concentration completely, and the gun on the ground ceased to quiver.

Sir Champagne Noticed and smiled evilly, but he still continued to sing. The smile seemed to convey everything that he wanted to say. It said to me: As long as I am singing neither of you will be able to use your powers. I instinctively sensed that fact as well, and I knew that even if I closed my eyes and we tried to escape through the door with invisibility—with the wicked looking handgun still in the assassins hands—we would be very much un-invisible. Oh, and we would die.

The assassin taking advantage of our decapitated state stepped forward and grabbed Chris by her forearm and put the gun to her temple.

“Where is the cheese!” He sang in his awfully high opera. “Tell me or the girl will get her brains blown out all over the floor!”

I couldn’t say anything I was still so stupefied by his horrible singing voice.

Just then the reinforcement arrived. It was that gnomish cavalry! I could hear them coming before I saw them. They burst into the dining hall carrying tiny trumpets to their lips. The gnome with the chainsaw was in the front of the small cavalry. They were ridding atop grotesquely large sewer rats, which were scuttling across the floor ferociously toward the assassin.

By the time Sir Champagne noticed the gnomes were already upon him.

The Rats leaped off the floor and began climbing up Sir Champagne pants. The gnomes began prodding his bottom with spears and beating his kneecaps with tiny clubs.

The assassin screamed like a little girl for the second time that evening. Boy, I thought. For an assassin he sure is girly.

I grabbed Chrysanthemum’s arm and we fled out of the kitchen. Ironically I noticed that Chris still had her purple purse around her left shoulder where the cheese had been safely stowed away the entire time.

While the assassin was busy fighting off the rats and gnomes we ran out of the dining hall and out the front door.

To Be Continued…

UFS: (Unidentified Flying Sausages) Part 13

It was at that precise moment that the butler gnome decided to bring in the next course of our meal. He walked into the dining hall in a miniature tuxedo caring the tray of round hot sizzling sausages over his head. As soon as he noticed the assassin in the room holding the silver dueling handgun, he dropped the sausages to the floor with a squeak and ran from the room babbling nonsense.

I looked at the sausages lying on the floor and looked meaningfully at Chris. She caught my glance out of the corner of her eye, but didn’t give away that she had seen my gesture. She knew what I wanted her to do. I could see the little vein appearing on her forehead as it always did when she was concentrating super hard.

I of course began to stall for time. “Who are you!?” I demanded as if I already hadn’t figured it out.

“I am an assassin, of course you puerile twit, and I’m here to recuperate the cheese for Lord El Stinko. “You’ll understand, his Excellency doesn’t take kindly to pilfering. It’s simply unadorned vulgarity. If you don’t yield the cheese, I have been mandated to terminate you.”

Not if you get a face full of sausage first! I thought to myself with some measure of satisfaction as I noticed the tray of sausages on the floor wiggling menacingly.

“I see,” I said carefully, “and do you expect us to yield the cheese so easily?”

“Why certainly, that is if you value your unspeakably bleak and non-principled actualities you ought to evidently hand over the cheese.” Sir Champagne said smugly. He was confident that he had us trapped.

There was a sudden explosion of sausages, the greasy missiles flew through the air toward Sir Champagne, and struck him in various places on his face! He squealed like a woman and dropped his silvery long handgun to the floor and began swatting at the grease smudges on his face. I hoped that some of the spicy juices from the delicious deli product would get into his eyes and buy us just a bit more time to escape! And perhaps cause permanent blindness.

 Chrysanthemum had done her part and now it was my turn. I began to concentrate. If my calculation was correct then the bigger the object was the more difficult it would be to vanish, and so I focused on the gun on the floor. Sir Champagne was no longer holding it in his hand and so I would be able to get rid of it separately without having to bring the assassin with the gun.

“Curse you brats,” The knight screamed at us.

“Come on and do it already!” Chris screamed at me urgently.

I was focusing as hard as I could; it was our only hope of getting out of this room without being shot.

The gun began to quiver slightly, and I felt the overwhelming exhilarating feeling of power flowing through my body like a torrent of water, but just then the assassin did something completely unexpected, he began to sing. And he wasn’t singing just anything… It was opera!

To Be Continued on Part 14…

The Perfect Assassin Part 12

Chris really never liked Mr. Thumb, and so she wasn’t very distraught that I had suddenly “vanished” him or whatever it was that I had done to him. The gnomes left us alone for the most part, they understood that Mr. Thumb had been training us and they knew that we were guests in Mr. Thumbs home. However, they definitely seemed more leery around us, me in particular. I was glad, I definitely didn't want to get on the bad side of the gnomes again, I sort of like the way my face looks with the nose still attached.

We looked around in the woods surrounding Liberty for Mr. Thumb, hoping that perhaps I had merely made him teleport to a different location rather than cause him to cease to exist. My secondary power was clearly more powerful than either of us had imagined. Of course, it was just as difficult to replicate, like trying to squeeze a watermelon through your nostril difficult. 

I tried to make several boulders disappear after the incident by focusing really really hard, I only managed to give myself a splitting headache. I decided to stop least I give myself an aneurism. It appeared that I had to be extremely irritated for my second power to function properly.

“Well what do we do now?” Chris asked after we had searched the entire forest for the thousandth time that day. Mr. Thumb’s gnomes also helped us search, their squeaky incomprehensible voices echoing mournfully through the trees. Only Mr. Thumb would be able to understand what they were trying to say.

“Let’s go back to the house and get something to eat.” I replied tiredly.

Mr. Thumb’s estate was a very pleasant stately home. Despite his obvious insanity it appeared that Mr. Thumb did quite well for himself by selling his gnomes. I wondered if any of the people who bought the gnomes realized that they were actually alive…

“Mr. Thumb might have been crazy,” Chris said over our dinner that night. "But at lease he did help us to do something… Now that we don’t have him it’s like we’re lost in the middle of the desert not knowing which direction to travel."

We sat in the dining room, a long dim room. Light dimly shone from large glowing crystal chandeliers from above. Paintings of former Crazy Thumbkins stared down at us from their portraits, many of their eyes were pointing in opposite directions I noticed idly.

“Yes.” I agreed wistfully. “Maybe you could have a look in your crystal ball and see what we need to do next. I could write down everything that you see so that we don’t forget.”

“I’ve already tried that and I didn’t see anything. The future for us is a big, blah…”

Silence ensued, for a brief moment, before it was suddenly broken by a voice as smooth as quicksilver in the dusky light. “That’s because I’m afraid the road ends for you to here…” the man’s voice said in the shadows at the other side of the long dining room.

I turned almost choking on the piece of meat I had been chewing. I hadn’t even noticed the figure sitting at the head of the long banquet-style table. He had been watching the whole time as we ate. It was really quite remarkable that the gnomes of the house had not noticed him either.

The man was swathed in the shadows but I could make out in the dim lighting that he wore a white powdered wig. He wore a navy blue elongated suit coat made with intricately woven fabric, and sported a high collar and a vest underneath with a silver chain leading into the pocket. Like Lord El Stinko he wore a frilly cravat at his collar, which gave him an aura of importance and menace, pinned down with a sapphire gem.

In his hand he held a monocle on the end of a long silver pole, which he was examining nonchalantly.

“Habitually when one is first introduced to a member of aristocracy it is customary to bow or curtsy.” The man spoke again in his British accent. “However, since it seems that you two have lost your reason at the sight of me, I shall extenuate you from your societal duties for the time being, and overlook your abhorrent manners.”

“Who are you?” I asked finally regaining my voice.

“You may refer to me as Sir Pierre de La Champagne."

"Gesundheit." Chris said chuckling to herself.

"And why exactly have you come?" I asked.

"To annihilate you naturally..." He said simply, pulling out a long silver dueling handgun from his suit coat pocket with a silk blue handkerchief. "I am what you would call, le chevalier parfait, qui est un tueur."

To Be Continued on Part 13...

Lord El Stinko's Diary: My True Family

Dear Diary:

Being an evil genius is very difficult sometimes. Today I yelled at no less than five subordinates because they had clogged the toilets with provolone cheese. I know I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. Looking back on it I suppose it was a good thing that they clogged the toilets; it was a creative way of using cheese to do evil. I guess I was just a little bit irritated because I wanted to have a delicious pizza. My minions know how ornery I can get it I don’t have the proper cheese for my pizza. You see I have a great responsibility as the leader of this crew, they all look up to me as a paternal figure, and I must do the best I can to train them in the ways of wickedness.

Admittedly, I’ve been rather grumpy lately after that incident with those horrid brats and their giantess. Of course, we’ve been looking for them everywhere; their whereabouts have eluded us day after day. That fungus was irreplaceable. It will take me another 10 years to create another cheese as perfectly infectious as that. I must find that cheese…

My mother called last night. It just reinforced the feelings of hatred I feel for my family. She made sure to remind me how I had disappointed her and the entire family and that my very existence was a disgrace and a blemish on the family name. She never forgave me after I flunked clown school. After that conversation I had to lock myself in my closet for a little bit to regain my sanity. You know how our conversations always turn toxic in the end. I just have to remember what my councilor told me: I am special, it doesn’t matter what other people think of me as long as I know who I am and what my life’s journey is.

Maurice did a good job today at finally getting the Nuclear Detonator fixed on the doomsday machine and blew the heads off of all those silly penguins! It was quite the experience; I was beginning to reconsider the wisdom in letting Maurice handle this job after his abject failure handling the Septic Turnip Soup Job. But after today he was finally able to earn back respect and honor from the rest of the crew. It did my heart good to see the joy on Maurice’s face as all the other members of the crew lifted him up on their shoulders and cheered. Hurrah Maurice!

I don’t care what my mother says, I love what I do. 

This crew is my true family...

Lord Cornelius Sebastian Augustus El Stinko III


Keep Reading for more Diary Entries from Lord El Stinko

Curses, I Hate Squirrels!!! Adventures of Mr. Thumb

The following is the cell phone conversation that Mr. Thumb had while hanging in a tree somewhere in the middle of a forest:

Mr. Thumb: Привет привет ... Мне нужна помощь у меня есть белки в штаны!

911 Operator: I’m sorry sir, we don’t speak Russian can you speak English?

Mr. Thumb: Thank the goddess of pottery!!! I thought that I had been transported out of the United States into the Chernyayevsky Forest in the middle of Russia! You know, I was sort of hoping that I had ended up in Russia, and then I would have been able to finally use my ability to speak Russian. Goddesses bless my father, he was a fragile man, he was a gnome after all! Well of course, I still really don’t know where I am. Where am I exactly?

Operator: Well according to your cell phone signature, you are located in Yellowstone National Park.

Mr. Thumb: That certainly would explain the sulfuric smells in the air. I thought it was just because I had eaten a lot of beans lately, if you know what I mean.

Operator: I’m sorry sir, but this is an emergency line. Are you in any real danger at the moment?

Mr. Thumb: I have a question for you. If a man falls from a tree, and there’s no one around to hear it, does the man really fall from the tree?

Operator: I’m afraid that he would indeed fall from the tree.

Mr. Thumb: Well then yes I think I’m in serious trouble! You see a few hours ago I was trying to train my Padawi, to be able to use their awesome powers, and I wasn’t doing a very good job of it admittedly, but then, my pupil got a little upset and it seems that he was able to use his secondary power to transport me to the top of a 100 foot pine tree in the middle of Yellowstone National Park. Right now I have squirrels trying to build a nest in my pants and they are really quite relentless buggers…! [Squealing]

Operator: Wow, ok sir just calm down. You mean to tell me that you are up in a 100 foot tree?

Mr. Thumb: Yes unfortunately that is the case. And I can’t seem to get down. My arms are getting just a little sore from hanging on for dear life. And fighting off those pesky squirrels! Yes I did just call you pesky…. Don’t you look at me that way…

Squirrel: [Chattering]

Operator: Okay sir, just keep holding on to that tree. I’ve already sent help your way, and I’m going to stay on the line to keep talking with you alright?

Mr. Thumb: [Sobbing] Thank you Judi, your name is Judi right. You sound like a Judi. You are probably the nicest person I’ve ever spoken with over the phone, hanging to a tree in the middle of Yellowstone. Much nicer than the squirrels, all they want to talk about is different kinds of nuts. Boy if I ever get out of this alive I will never eat another walnut for as long as I live. Проклятия, я ненавижу белки!

Padawan Training Begins with Mr. Thumb; Part 11

Training as Padawi, or Padawan learners, wasn’t what it was all cracked up to be. The next day, as Mr. Thumb had promised, we launched into an excessive training program centered on cow tipping, capturing rogue gnomes, and tying to walk on the water over Emerald Lake.

“I think this is impossible!” I yelled from the middle of the lake to Mr. Thumb who stood on the shore very dry, I might add, and warm.

“Do or do not, there is no impossible. Or something like that.” he shouted back.

I shook my head in frustration. It had been something like three weeks since the day we had been rescued by Mr. Thumb, and we had begun the training program, but we didn’t seem to be getting any closer to developing our respective powers.

Chrysanthemum seemed to be having more luck than I was. She had managed to concentrate hard enough with her mind to tip over a cow. Although there is some speculation that the cow may have slipped and fallen on a patch of ice on the frozen ground.

After a few more hours of splashing and flailing about in the water trying to, I don’t know, walk on top of it, Mr. Thumb finally waved me back to the shore.

“Something is not working,” he said dryly.

“You think?” I asked sarcastically.

“We should have had at least some results by now… We’ve tried just about everything I can think of…” He trailed off, “Except of course hanging you upside down by your ankles while you are trying to levitate rocks.”

 I hoped that he wasn’t seriously considering that idea.

“Well, maybe I can’t walk on water because walking on water is not my second power.”

“Try turning yourself invisible and then walking out into the water,” he directed.

I did as he asked for about the thousandth time that day with still no results. I got just as cold and frustrated as I had before, only this time I didn’t have my eyes opened, and I was invisible.

“At least we know that you can’t be in the water if you hope to stay unseen,” Mr. Thumb remarked, “I can see exactly where you are in the water, because the water is displaced by your invisible body leaving a hole in the water.”

“I’ve got it! Maybe we can cover you with some cheese,” Mr. Thumb exclaimed, “and see if you can fly!” The gnomes who had disappeared into the woods but always seemed to be attuned with Mr. Thumb’s every crazy desire stepped out of the bushes caring cans of Cheese Wiz and nacho dipping sauce.

“No!” I shouted, “This is ridiculous! You really don’t have any idea what you are doing do you?!”

“Well, I Ummm...” Mr. Thumb said looking down at the ground, “I never really said that I did know anything about powers,” he mumbled under his breath.

I was so angry that I could have exploded. But it was just then that I felt the power deep down inside of my mind welling up like a geyser awakening from a dormant sleep. But that didn’t change the fact that I was angry.

“You…” I began, but then I blinked and Mr. Thumb vanished.

All of the creepy gnomes that were carrying the cheese began squealing and babbling in their odd language, and running in all directions for shelter. I was just so surprised that I continued staring at the space where Mr. Thumb had once been.

It appeared as if I had discovered—with the help of Mr. Thumb—my second power.

To Be Continued on Part 12…

Another Link to the Past of My Secret Biography!

Some of the articles that I have posted are no longer found on the home page of My Secret Biography Blog. Here is a list of links that will take you to different parts of the story that you may have missed:

Biography of Me!!! Part 1

Where you get to learn about my twisted past and how I was locked under the cupboard for 12 years of my life. I got to write a lot of poetry though...

My Aunt and Uncle Part 2

You really don’t want to read about them do you? they are quite wretched people.

The Escape Part 3

How I escape from the circus. Some people tell me it may have been an insane asylum. 

Crazy Monkeys Part 4

Animal cruelty at its finest. Learn how Wendy’s gets its lettuce leaves so perfectly chaotic.

Wicked Wendy Workers Part 5

When Wicked Wendy Workers try to Whack me with a Wat. I mean bat.

The Evil Plot Unveiled Part 6

It’s too horrible to describe!!! Cheese Horrible Cheese! Ahhhh!


Escaping a Cheesy Death and Kumbayah; Part 7


That was a close one. Thank you Gothgora...


Tragedy Strikes; Part 8


This part was really difficult to write. It's too sad to say anymore.


Creepy Garden Gnomes Part 9

This is a scary part. We also find out how Lord El Stinko may have misplaced his nose.


Becoming Padawan Learners Part 10

We find a teacher to help us develop our strange talents or powers.

I hope you enjoy reading this insane Biography.Thank you.

Cordailly,

Elliot

Becoming Padawan Learners Part 10

“Well tickle me pink and call me Bessie!” The crazy man exclaimed. “It’s people, real live actual people!”

“The gnomes, the potato-ish little gnomes with their beady little flint-eyes, they’re the only sentient life forms I ever get to see; but you two, you really are something!”

“Why thank you.” Chris said, unsure of what else to say.

“I hope that you’ve brought the hummerdinger. The hummerdinger is the last bit that I need to finish my masterpiece. You don’t happen to have it do you? No, then well I suppose there’s nothing you could have done about that…”

He picked us up off the ground and dusted our clothes off for us with spastically quick brushes and thumps on the back.

“So sorry for the rude welcome,” He said. “but you see, my little darlings—I assumed he was referring to the gnomes—are simply not used to company we don’t get many visitors. Not since the elephant bull fight and the plunger incident. Took me three months—three months I tell you!—to clean up the mess off of the poor children, by only using my own toothbrush. And then,” He rambled. “I had to use that same tooth brush for six months because it’s like I’ve already told, I don’t have my hummerdinger!!!”

“Wow.” I mumbled under my breath. “This is something.”

Chris nodded slowly.

“Well, go back to the way you were then.” The crazy man said. Obeying his order all of the gnomes shuffled into action like stubby little soldiers apparently going back to where they had been standing, so perfectly still waiting for nightfall, before.

“They don’t mean to be the way that they are. They just do what they know. And they know that they must cut off the nose of anyone who comes to this town. Including you two…But I’m sorry I didn’t even ask your names.”

“I’m Elliot,” I said. “and this is Chrysanthemum.”

“But everyone just calls me Chris.” She explained.

“Well my name’s,” Crazy Thumbkin. “But you can just call me Mr. Thumb!”

“Alright then Mr. Thumb.” We agreed.

“Well you certainly don’t have evil names like Billy the Kid, or Adolf.”

“Did you expect us to be evil?”

 “Why yes, you see, because everybody who ends up here is inevitably evil. It all a part of my powers. Evil things are always drawn to my creations like flies to raw meat. But when they come they get trapped inside my Venus Flytrap! Ha!” He clapped his hands shut.

“But, we’re not evil.” I protested.

“I know, which is why I stopped my lead gnome there from cutting off your nose.”

“Once they cut off any intruders’ nose they bring them to me and I add them to my collection. I’m very involved with my artwork here.”

“You mean to say that this whole town is your artwork?”

“That’s right. I built every single house out of recycled cardboard. Every shred of green grass, every toilet, outhouse, every bed, and tree. It’s all delicious recycled cardboard. Can you smell it, it smells so gooooood…”

“Cardboard hu?” Chris said. “That’s very impressive, everything looks so real.”

“Why thank you youngling. I see that you have an appreciation for the finer things of life. Art is what separates us from the beasts. But it’s also what makes me a beast, I’m afraid. People who have powers generally have three that all relate to each other somehow. My first power is that all things evil are drawn to my artwork, my second is to tell if you are evil or not, and my third is turning criminals into gnomes! At least after I turn them into gnomes they become a part of my masterpiece, more refining and useful I’d say than any prison.”

Chris seemed to know about two of her powers. I only knew about one of mine, turning myself invisible. But this man although he was quite insane seemed to know all three of his powers. I knew that if we had any hope of defeating Lord El Stinko that we would have to refine ourselves and become even more powerful. Which was what spurred me to do something that I knew I would probably regret later but was absolutely necessary… I decided to ask Mr. Thumb for help.

“We need some help, Mr. Thumb.” I said.

Chris looked at me, and began shaking her head as if to tell me: no, please not him. But I continued anyway, he was the only person that we were likely to see for another day or two which—since we only had a limited time to dispose of the cheese and save everyone from a boring fate—was too much time to waste. We needed help, training ourselves in our own powers.

“You have obtained the highest level with your own powers and so you must be able to train us somehow to get us to your same level. Right?”

“Well I suppose that butterflies do teach each other to make cocoons. When they emerge they transform into a beautiful butterfly. And the wily toad must transform from a tadpole to a fully grown specimen someday…”

“Er, exactly,” I said though I had no idea what he was talking about. “So will you help us learn more about our powers?”

“Of course! I’ve always wanted to have a Padawan. But now my dreams are coming true, I will have two Padawan’s or Padawi. However you would say Padawan in the plural form! This is wonderful!”

Chris slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand.

“Here let me show you into my house,” He said excitedly. “Luckily I have those spare bedrooms, you’ll need to get plenty of sleep for tomorrow, and we’re going to start training immediately. How exciting!”

To Be Continued on Part 11…

Creepy Garden Gnomes Part 9

That night without the help of Gothgora we managed to fight off several packs of rabid weasels, three wild turkey zombies, and one very blood thirsty rabbit. Luckily for us we managed to get a good flame for our campfire going which helped keep away most of the creatures of darkness. It’s a good thing Chrysanthemum keeps that ultra-flammable hair spray in her purse at all times. Turns out that hairspray can also be used as a flamethrower to light rabid weasels on fire as well as start our campfire. That was fun… and stinky...

Anyway, the next day we moved on along that mysterious road winding eternally through the forest. We walked mostly in silence, we giggly slightly every once in a while as the image of flaming weasels danced in our heads. We were still just a little slaphappy from being so tired as well. Finally we made it out of that infernal forest and entered into a smallish town, a sign as we passed read: Welcome to Liberty.

It felt good to be back in civilization once more, a feeling that was slightly tainted by the fact that neither of us had a place to stay in this town. It was like returning to your home town to discover that your house has been repossessed by the IRS, or burned down, or picked up by a sudden tornado and deposited in the land of Oz on top of a Wicked Witch.

Liberty was quaint enough, there were mostly small wood-paneled homes painted in bright colors. The gardens in front of each lawn were well kept and guarded with lawn gnomes and pink flamingos. As we passed one of the houses I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye move. But when I turned to get a better look I didn’t see anything.

“Something is weird here.” Chris noted.

“Yes,” I agreed. “where are all the people?”

The houses were very pleasant but it didn’t appear as if any of them were inhabited by people. There were no lights on in the windows, no cars in the driveways no people, no noise at all…

We finally decided to walk up to one of the houses and knock. As we walked up the long cement walkway leading to the house I had the strangest feeling that the lawn gnomes were watching us with their beady black eyes. They looked possessed really. Who would want lawn ornaments that looked so scary? One of them was holding a miniature chainsaw and was wearing a creepy mask like on Friday the 13^th.

We knocked on the door, nobody answered of course.

“Well, we still need a place to stay.” Chris said. “So…”

“No.” I interjected. “This place creeps me out, I think we should just keep going and find some other town.”

“Don’t be a baby pony boy. I’m not walking another step, I’m so exhausted that if I don’t get to sleep soon I’ll probably turn into a werewolf.”

“Fine.” I conceded.

She twisted the doorknob and the door opened. It hadn’t been locked.

The house that we entered was just as quaint on the inside as it was on the outside. The furniture was mostly made out of hand carved wood, stained in deep rich colors. And the sofas and chairs in the house looked very plush and comfortable.

Chris locked the door behind us as we walked in. “This is really weird,” I said. “the house is completely clean and yet there are no people here to clean it.”

“Well I guess we should go upstairs I bet that’s where the beds are. I need some shut eye.”

“Have you ever heard of Goldilocks and the Three Bears?” I asked.

“Yes yes yes, I know the story. But somehow I don’t think that bears will be coming home anytime soon. As creepy as it is in this town, strangely enough I feel that this is the place where we need to be, at least for the moment. Something interesting is going to happen.”          

“We’re going to be eaten by bears,” I said. “that’ll be interesting I’m sure.”

“No, something good I promise.”

While Chris went upstairs to sleep I found my way into the kitchen. The refrigerator was stocked with fresh food including milk that was due to expire in about two weeks. I made myself a ham sandwich and ate it greedily. Then I too went upstairs, found a separate bed room, and fell asleep.

It was dusk when we finally woke again. The orange sun was slowly setting beneath the horizon, and the room was darkened. The silence was oppressive. It pressed on my ears and eyes from all direction. Suddenly, I had the feeling that we needed to leave, something was definitely not right. And we had to get out of town before the sun set.

I ran to Chris’ room she still lay in bed her curly hair was strewn about her face like a wedding veil.

“Wake up!” I shouted urgently though somehow it felt wrong to break the unprecedented silence as if something were listening, listening for us.

Chris sat up groggily. “What’s going on?” She asked dreamily.

“I think we have to get out of here. Now!” I said. “Before the sun sets.”

“You’re insane.” She said trying to lay back down in bed.

I didn’t let her; I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the bed.

“I think something is going to happen.”

“There, see, I told you something interesting was going to happen.”

“Yeah I know, but I don’t think that it’s going to be something good for us.”

“Don’t worry things will turn out good in the end, you’ll see.”

“But that suggests that we have to go through something horrible first,” I retorted sternly. “and right now I would rather not go through anything else horrible.”

“All right then.” She said. Allowing me to drag her out of the room and down the stairs. The living room was so dark now that it was difficult to find the front door, especially considering that it wasn’t actually our house.

Stumbling outside into the dark cool evening air was refreshing. But still the silence was ever present.

The sun was just a sliver now behind the horizon. “We need to get out of here now!”

But even as I said it the last bit of light sunk under the level earth leaving us in even greater darkness. And that was when we heard the first noises in a very long time. It sounded like footsteps on pavement. Thousands of little footsteps all heading in our direction. But we still couldn’t see anything.

“What is that noise?” Chris asked perplexed.

“Something interesting I’m sure.” I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

Just then I felt something touch my leg. I looked down to see a little red hatted Garden Gnome poking my leg with its pick ax. It looked up at me moving stiffly with sudden movements very much like a reptile, and stared up at me with its beady black eyes.

I screamed in alarm.

Chris looked down as well and began to scream too.

And then we began to run. Naturally.

We made it just in time to the road. Thousands and thousands of gnomes, that had been the sound that we had heard. They had all come to life as soon as the sun had set. And now they were after us. Apparently like the Bears in the story of Goldilocks they resented that people had invaded their home.

They chased after us with swift little feet, like rats. And they were gaining on us. “Look over there!” I shouted. There was a larger house with a chain link fence surrounding it. If we could climb over the fence the gnomes wouldn’t be able to get at us, with their stubby arms it would take them a good amount of time to climb over after us.

Chris nodded as in agreement. “Let’s do it!”

We slammed into the fence and began to climb but just as we made the first step the creepy gnomes seized our ankles.

“Noooo!” I yelled in frustration. I tried to kick them off but the multitude was too powerful. They pulled us from the fence and we fell to the ground. And just like rabid weasels they were on top of us in seconds, pinning our arms and legs down with their tiny body masses.

“Stop please!” I pleaded but it didn’t seem that the gnomes couldn’t speak English.

Just then the gnome with the chainsaw stepped out of the sea of writhing gnomes. His white mask gleamed softly in the night like bones. He was obviously the leader. He primed his chainsaw and it started very easily the tiny blades spinning with a whiney little purring sound.

“No.” I pleaded.

He stepped forward and put the blade above my upper lip and began to move it upward. He was going to cut off my nose.

“What in the name of sauerkraut is going on out here!!!” We heard a husky male voice shout. All of the gnomes froze in place as if they were once again made of normal fired clay.

"I thought I heard something out here!" The man said.

I squinted as the light of a lantern fell over us temporarily blinding us.

Whatever was going to happen next was certainly going to be interesting.

To Be Continued on Part 10…

Buy all of your Creepy Gnome Stuff here! It's crazy the kinds of things you can find on the internet!

          

Tragedy Strikes Part 8

Gothgora was ill.

As we made it into the weasel infested forest I knew that there was something wrong. She let out a soft moan that turned into a fit of coughing. I turned; she definitely wasn’t her usual chipper self. She looked pale and was hunched over. I realized that her stomach was bothering her but she usually didn’t feel pain, so I knew that it must have been very bad.

“This isn’t good.” I said.

“She must be sick from the green fumes that she ate.” Chris noted sadly.

We had to sit and take a rest because Gothgora couldn’t go any farther. She found a long flat slab of stone and lay down on it trembling slightly.

I took her pale enormous hand in mine, she felt as weak as an overcooked noodle but thousands of times more massive…

“I’m afraid,” Gothgora said in her quiet voice. “That this is where we must say goodbye.”

“Don’t say such things.” I said tears welling up in my eyes.

“The great circle in the sky only has so many rounds in it for each person on the face of the earth. And if today is my last round then there is only to accept it…”

She was so wise I realized and so very quite. Though I thought we had a mutual understanding of the world and everything in it, I knew that she had a much deeper understanding of things that I could never quite contemplate. Though she was my invisible friend I knew very little about her.

Who knew that the fumes binding us were toxic? El Stinko must have known that people might have tried to escape by consuming them and made them accordingly.

“There is something I need to tell you.” Gothgora whispered. “When the red tomatoes falls from the vine look for the man in purple at midnight. When the crow caws at dawn, look under the cube of wastes. And when things look more hopeless than ever find the fountains of purity and find what you need in their depths.”

“What…?” I asked more confused than ever. She sometimes had a very cryptic way of saying things but this it seemed was just nonsense.

"Just remember." She said her voice growing ever weaker.

I nodded. And then noticed something disturbing Gothgora’s hand seemed to be growing lighter in mine. And not only that, but as I looked at her white hand it also was growing noticeably smaller like a marshmallow in the microwave, only in reverse.

“No. No. No. You can’t go now I need you with me.”

“I must,” she said. “But remember what I told you. You were destined to destroy Lord El Stinko and vanquish his evil ways and that is why I have stayed with you for all of these years, to protect you until you could defend yourself. But now that you have begun your journey, you are free, and so my time is done on this earth.”

Gothgora was no bigger than a child at this time and she continued to shrink.

“But what’s happening!” I yelled in alarm.

But she didn’t answer only smiled and closed her eyes. She was gone forever.

I watched as her body continued to shrink smaller and smaller. Until she grew so small that I could no long hold her hand in mine and then she shrunk from my view all together.

My childhood invisible friend was dead. But even as I thought it my mind would not accept that, but that still couldn’t stop the tears that were welling up behind my eyes from streaming out.

Chris stood behind me solemnly and there we stayed for hours, until the light of the sun began to fade.

“We should go.” Chris said as quietly and sensitively as she could. “El Stinko will be looking for us, we should try to find someplace more obscure.”

I nodded in agreement, but my legs it seemed were unwilling to leave the place of Gothgora’s final resting place.

“Wait,” I said. “There is something that I need to do. Do you have something to write with?”

Chris looked in her purple purse and pulled out a sharpie marker.

I took it thankfully, and began to write over the smooth surface of the flat rock.

Here lies the Giantess Gothgora the strong.

May lasers continually shoot from her eyes upon her enemies from above,

And may she Rest in Peace.

"She was very strong." Chris said, as we walked together in the forest.

I couldn’t bring myself to respond…

To Be Continued on Part 9…