My dear Smok,
It has come to my attention that—oh, shove it. I did it again. I told you, I know I did, that I would stop using that greeting, but I have not yet remembered to forfeit the copyright and sell it to the highest bidder (the highest bidder, in fact, being your uncle Semithino). So, I suppose I will merely sue my brother Trubodox for using it, and send Semithino a nice letter for being a fan of mine. Trubodox’s use of the greeting was quite stupid and insulting. And besides, I now am his mortal enemy.
Anyway, most of the events that Trubodox described in his non-intercepted-by-me letter were accurate. Although, I beg to differ on his description of the battle plan as a masterpiece. It was a piece of excrement in a veil of water. Anyway, Xunt has informed me that my three hundred concussions have subsided, and my seventy-two fractures are coming along nicely. Yovians, intoxicated and in large numbers, are quite overwhelming.
Anyway, when my guides arrived on my doorstep clad in black toilet paper (limited supply at Drakemart), I began to fear that something was amiss. At first, I thought that the enemy had gotten wind of our plans and decided to lure us all into a fake council meeting. So, I told Xunt to go get the frying pan, but as he turned to go, he accidentally ran into my marble statue of Belligast and was knocked out cold.
I didn’t want to blow my cover, so I pretended to go along with everything. They told me to latch onto the same tail as last time, and flew me blindfolded through the sky to our meeting place in the pitch darkness. Luckily, this time, I had sent instructions to Rexrei Wythwave to tail us and find out where we were going. My master plan was in effect. I also slipped several miniature typewriters up a few of the dragons’ noses, just for the heck of it.
When we landed and my blindfold was removed, I took the flare I had been secretly holding in my claw the whole way and set it off. A brilliant light flew straight out of the cave mouth and into the sky, signaling to Rexrei my exact coordinates. Even Varix the Nerd would have seen that. My captors, as well, saw it, and proceeded to shove giant rolls of toilet paper down my throat until I told them my plan. But instead I lied and said it had accidentally gone off, and accused one of their number of setting it off because he was an enemy spy. They took this into consideration, and then promptly banished him from the realm with jets of flame and streams of acid. At least it wasn’t me.
I was led down to the
torture chamber council room. It was packed, and the plan
was demonstrated, as Trubodox told you, in horrendously horrible handwriting
and spectacularly silly spelling. We were then escorted up above and told to
don our super-suits...these turned out to be made of toilet paper. I had it!
They were Yovian spies sent to humiliate us!
Oh yes, I was elbowed in the snout by one of the council members. I said, “Excusificate me,” but he seemed not to hear me very well, and only grunted off a line of binary numerals in reply.
But anyway, we donned our black ninja mummy super toilet paper suits and flew off to the Western Wiles. I noticificated at the corner of my eye that Rexrei Wythwave was following very discreetly behind us. Good thing Yovian spies don’t have rearview mirrors. They do sell those at Drakemart, you know, but they’re very expensive.
I practiced super-poses as we flew, swinging my forelegs out this way or that and accidentally slugging a few of my captors at certain points. They shouted me down with cries of, “BANANA SPLIT!!!” or “BULLDOG SHAKE!!!” at which point I stopped.
I noticed the stars above, and figured out that we were flying North, and had originally been south of the Western Wiles. This was an interesting detail.
We eventually took our positions in the air above the tangled groves of the Western Wiles, flying in wait for the invasion force. Hehe, see what I did there? Anyway, suddenly the trees rustled, and cries burst forth, along with several dozen Yovians. And, can I tell you, they sure were an ugly-looking bunch. I yelled, “Attackificate!” and plunged below into the fray, fighting until Trubodox whacked me upside the nostril. Several times. I played dead and fell to the earth, unnoticed by the Yovians, falling into a pothole below. Trubodox roared in triumph after having “thrown” me, and as the fighting went on, I inflated a Scaligar dummy I happened to have on claw and left to tell Rexrei.
When I got to his position, I told him how everyone was actually a Yovian, and they had hot dog guns and nuclear potatoes at their disposal, and I told him to send an army, three armies! Sorry. It was as panicked as that last sentence, but that was a run-on. Anyway, we chewed the fat, deciding what to do, and then spat out the fat and flew off to get reinforcements. We arrived at the scene of the battle with a half dozen burly Northern dragons, Biffus, Buffus, Duckus, Whuckus, Ruckus, and Turkus the Brawny. They promptly drove off the Yovians and went back to their homes.
I, on the other claw, promptly went over to my Scaligar dummy, reinflated him with dumbbells and
crowbards crowbars and other assorted heavy items, and
waited. After several days, Trubodox unearthed my hidden dummy, at which point
I, lying concealed behind him in my ninja toilet paper suit, chose my best
solitary claw and gently popped the Scaligar dummy (purchased at Drakemart; I’ve
got some friends in the manufacturing world). It went off with a bang, a boom,
a pop, and several unseemly cracks, all directed at my unfortunate brother’s
smug face. The dumbbells swung everywhere, sinking into his snout, belting him
upside the backside, and booting him in the jaw, reenacting Bootjaw’s most
historic moment, the moment of its founding. That’ll teach him. I gathered up
the supplies and fled home before he discovered my trick.
-Your serpentine uncle,