Saturday, May 11, 2013

Book Two Letter Fourteen

My dear Smok,
          It has come to my attention that I am awesome. Of course, I had known this since my birth, but only a few days ago, it really hit me.
          When Xunt came into my abode carrying the mail that day, I was tempted for the slightest moment to shove it down my butler’s gullet for the heck of it, but then I resisted the urge and took the mail. Now, I have a bad history with mail (recall a certain goblin box), so I was very cautious. That is, I tore the envelope open with extreme haste, panting to see what it was.
          “My relative Scaligar,” it read,
“I realize that we are not, and never have been, on the best of terms. Several past instances have estranged us so far that we cannot agree on most anything, especially concerning our mutual nephew Smok. But, as fate would have it, I must ask for your aid. I have recently been invaded by Remdrix the Mad and his insolent crowd of relatives, near and far. They have taken over my cave and vandalized my entire property without abandon! They are reckless, feckless, and irritating to the utmost degree. It pains me greatly to ask you this, but will you please come and assist me in turning away these psychotic creatures from my home? I will pay with precious jewels, if Gaertho has not stolen them yet, that is.
          I immediately charted an intercontinental flight, flying faster than any eye could follow, darting to rescue my beloved relative Semithino. I left Xunt behind to frame Semithino’s letter in its entirety onto the wall at the front entrance to my cave. I didn’t want to come as a meager visitor, though; I wanted to make a lasting impression upon Remdrix and Meruthia and all the other little fiends.
          Have I ever told you the five rules of dramatic effect? Well, if not, here they are:
1.   When in need of dramatic effect, employ the use of a cape.
2.   When in need of dramatic effect, procure smoke and flame to dazzle one’s audience and/or opponents.
3.   When in need of dramatic effect, employ the use of music.
4.   When in need of dramatic effect, make sure to have a well-rehearsed plan of speech and action.
5.   When in need of dramatic effect, employ the use of GIANT BANANA SPLITS!!!
Okay, so maybe there are only four rules, and I made up that last one, but anyway, I was prepared to follow the first four. The fifth, not so much.
          Firstly, I went to one of the local dragons and asked to borrow a cape, a hot dog stand, and seven large bowls of oil. Secondly, I enlisted him, a few of his friends, and all of the large bongo drums we could find for my plan. Thirdly, we left Zuul and went to the neighboring province, where we rehearsed our act for about three hours. Fourthly, we rushed back to Semithino’s cave. It was sunset, and Semithino’s cave’s main entrance, luckily enough, opens out west, thus helping to create a silhouette effect on everything near.
          I set up my battalion of bemused bongo drummers up on top of the hill over Semithino’s cave, laying out foliage in front of them so that if anyone looked back they wouldn’t see the idiot adolescent dragons banging on their instruments. I put on my newly acquired cape, arranged the bowls of oil in an arc, and carted the hot dog stand out to center stage in front of the cave mouth, inside the arc formed by the oil bowls. “Hhhhhhot daaaawgs!” I hollered. “Hhhot diggity dawgs!”
          I had calculated Remdrix’s movements perfectly. After about half a millisecond, the whole clan came rushing out of the cave, yelling and hollering and tripping over each other and drooling all over the place. But before they could all come closer, I breathed a swath of flame, making sure every bowl of oil ignited into fire. I pulled several green palm leaves out from behind my hot dog stand and tossed them into the fires. They caught flame and created a thick gray smoke that covered the whole area almost immediately due to the wonderful easterly wind. The bongos began with fervor; the unwanted guests went into a scared frenzy.
          My first target was Pyraxan. Swathed in smoke and a black cape, I crept into the fog toward him. My sharp eyesight kept him in sight, and I breathed through the cape over my mouth as I crept nearer and nearer. “Heyyy,” I whispered ominously, having pulled out a long tubelike instrument that compounded into several openings at the end so that it sounded like my voice was coming from many directions at once. I forgot to mention bringing that along, didn’t I?
          “Wh-what?” he whimpered. “I was j-just here for the—hotdogs! Please don’t eat me—are you a monster?”
          “Of course I’m a monster,” I hissed. “And I’m going to cook you into a hotdog!” Pyraxan promptly fireburped and then ran screaming from the area, flying off the cliff with his stunted wings. I scared off Relix the Torcher in much the same way, and then I moved on to Gaertho the Inhaler. “I bet you like the smoke,” I whispered into my voice apparatus. “How about the fire? You like that?” And I promptly dunked him into one of the flaming oil-bowls. He left in worse state than the other two.
          I scared off almost all the other relatives with similar ploys, but then the smoke cleared, and the sun had set. The fires still burned and were the only light to the whole area. I saw Semithino looking on with great intrigue at the goings-on. I stood there, and in front of me stood Remdrix the Mad and Meruthia the Runaway. Remdrix started to babble unintelligible phrases, and Meruthia simply stared at my silhouette with a thoughtful expression on her face.
          I put on my best stage-voice, without any apparatus. “Bongo hordes,” I commanded, “stop.” The drums ceased, and I saw Semithino crack a grin from the shelter of his cave. “I am the great, the mighty, Pellicor the Mastermind,” I declared ominously. “I have slain a hundred dragons in my lifetime, and have never been scarred by another, but ONCE by Belligast the Boldest in his glory days. The only reason I am sparing you, Remdrix, and you, Meruthia, and all your forty-four other relatives—”
          “Forty-six, actually,” Semithino corrected from behind the two cowering dragons.
          “Thank you, Semithino, for correcting me,” I said dryly. “As I was saying, I am Pellicor the Mastermind, I have bathed in the blood of stronger dragons than ye! Away with your shameful selves! Go now, and never come back!” My voice echoed through the night, aided by the naturally acoustic structure of the area around me.
          Remdrix and Meruthia immediately flew away as fast as possible. I’ll let Semithino tell you the rest, just to leave you hanging.
          -Your serpentine uncle,

P.S. Rexrei Wythwave has decided not to move to Aolia for the time being, for enigmatic reasons that I don’t know, but probably involving Xunt’s terrifying scare tactics to ward him off.


  1. The first sentence after "My Dear Smok" totally cracked me up. XD

  2. . . .
    Just . . .
    Where do you come up with this stuff? It's hilarious! And awesome. Can't forget awesome.

    1. It comes from our heads, and was started due to overtired exhausted creative brain juices. I believe we wrote the first 20 letters of Book One in a single night and the day after.

      Thank you, milady. Enjoy.

    2. 20 letters in a night and a day? That's incredible!

      You're welcome!

  3. Not really, J had already written a substantial amount of Scaligar's missives, so it was mainly T and I trying to think of a dragon name, and personality, and J was editing his letters and advising us. Did you know that it was j that first thought up the letters?