Saturday, July 13, 2013

Book Two Letter Twenty-Nine

My dear Smok,
It has come to my attention that I am dying of cold. Thus, I have arranged this last of mine very letters as my last will and testament, along with an explanation of what has led to this dreadful course of events, of what has led to my most certain, inescapable, fantastically unavoidable, doom.
Deathifications, my nephew; take up the legacy I have left behind, take up my mantle and follow in my footsteps. I am proud of you, Smok, but I’ll cut out the heartache from this script as I am freezing my buttocks off in profound agony, and every moment bringeth mine cold, frail body toward the inevitable, preferably warmer light beyond.

It all started with a letter from my distant cousin Xezophlalioroxikertus the Extremely Weird. He and Natar the Frostbitten have started a community college up in Frizid (don’t ask me why) which has a total of zero students. That’s right. Zippo the hippo, nope, nada, zilch. Anyway, enough rambling.
Have you ever tasted roasted grubface cake? It’s a favorite of drake cab drivers. Anyway, sorry. More rambling. I hear there’s a place way out west that serves the most amazificating sandwiches you ever had. Sorry. Enough rambling, I mean it!
Anyway, it all started with the letter from the dragon whom I shall from now on call cousin X. Cousin X was feeling a little, shall we say, lonely, as cold would be rather understated at this point. He and Natar have been playing ping-pong for about eighteen years close by the furnace, and they wanted some company. So, Cousin Xezo arranged for a “family” party with us (although I believe he could have found some closer relatives with whom to hold the party). Anyway, he invited Semithino and me, along with a few other distant relatives, but I think he forgot to send an invitation to Trubodox, which is all right because of his current crazed condition chopping trees and hollering his name in a badly pronounced fashion.
Anyway, I told Xunt that I would be going to Frizid, at which point he stammered out his disappointment, disagreement, and dissatisfaction with this proposal. I sternly admonishificated his manner and sent him packing. That is, I made him pack for the trip.
Well, Xunt insisted on inviting Xelle. It wasn’t my idea to have her along. But I must say, Smok, there is something more civilized about Xelle than any other drake I have ever laid eyes upon. It must be the fact that she is female, and thus a more sensible drake.
Anyway, we flew as far north as possible, but you do realize, Smok, that it is impossible to fly in the province of Frizid. The blizzards, all year round, are too perilous to brave by air. Thus, Xunt directed my attention at the border to the Drake Rental Assorted Cab Services, or D.R.A.C.S. If they thought they were being funny by making an acronym off the name of their species, I would like to point out that “drakes” is clearly spelled with a “k” and an “e”, not just the letter “c”.
Anyway, Xunt was friends with one of the drivers for this cab service, Crunt. So, he enlisted Crunt’s aid by hiring his cab. Crunt also brought along a friend, Scrunt. I tell you, Smok, these “unt” names get tiring after a while. Anyway, Scrunt was a shifty looking fellow, a green-scaled drake with several minor appendages missing; to be frank, he looked as if he’d been in about three thousand and forty bar fights and had killed exactly that same number of small animals. I didn’t like it.
Anyway, we bundled up and got into our gas-fueled sled and were off. My teeth chattered the whole way, but as Xelle graciously explained to me, drakes are nearly completely immune to cold. That was why they made such good cab drivers in Frizid.
I nodded between shivers and bundled up more. As we went along, I saw Scrunt casting suspicious glances over at Xelle. She was looking out at the barren beautiful landscape beyond, and so didn’t notice his evil eye, but I was sure of it: Scrunt was planning to murder Xelle!
Having developed a soft spot for her, I couldn’t let this happen. I jumped up, careful to keep all my blankets on for the cold. I started accusing Scrunt, and then Crunt halted the cab.
Halted the cab! The nerve! We were wasting time out in the freezing wastes of Frizid. I started chewing out Crunt for halting, and then I started ranting about the cold, and then all of a sudden three drakes were on top of me, beating me down to the floor of the cab. That Scrunt almost had my ear. I tried to fight back, but their collective weight was enough to overpower me. Xelle was yelling hoarsely trying to reason with them, but no, they were fed up with me and wanted to murder me, and Xelle would be next on their list!
This thought gave me strength from desperification. I had to save Xelle! Even Xunt was crazed in this cold weather. I shoved off all three drakes and placed myself between the rabid friends and the lovely damsel in distress. To my surprise they all backed off.
Well, anyway, we kept going, but all four drakes were talking together the whole way. I heard Xelle saying something about not throwing anyone overboard. However, I think the general sentiment was ill-disposed towards certain parties in the matter, namely me. Finally Crunt went over to check on the supply of fuel, and then with a clunk the cab stopped.
My eyes went wide as Crunt told me we had run out of fuel. He said he, Xunt, and Scrunt would have to go get fuel from a nearby station. He said we had drifted off course and were a few miles too far from the intended checkpoint where there was hot food and cupcakes. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be late to the get-together! And all because of some stupid drakes! I couldn’t believe their bananas nerve!
They were off, and the only ones left were Xelle and I. I smiled, teeth chattering, and tried to make some small talk, but eventually we fell silent. After a while, Xelle told me that she believed they had abandoned us. I was about to propose going out into the storm and trying to find some better shelter than an open-topped cab when suddenly the snow and hail and sleet worsened!!! It was as if the drakes had used an elemental pearl to keep us from escaping! If I find out that Semithino was part of this, I will be so mad I will bathe him in boiling canola oil! I will!
Anyway, back to events. We overturned the sled cab and are sheltering beneath it currently. I suppose this letter will never get to you until our frozen bodies are discovered in the deep snow drifts of Frizid, but here is my revised Last Will And Testament:
The Last Will and Testament of Scaligar the Serpentine
I, Scaligar the Serpentine, currently residing in the Province of Frizid, being of a sound mind, and very unsound body, do declare this to be my last will and testament. I revoke all wills and codicils previously made by me.
Article I
I appoint Rexrei Wythwave as my Personal Representative to administer this Will, and ask that he be permitted to serve without Court supervision and without posting bond. If Rexrei Wythwave is unwilling or unable to serve, then I appoint Smok the Humble to serve as my Personal Representative, and ask that he be permitted to serve without Court supervision and without posting bond.
Article II
I direct my Personal Representative to execute the orders hereafter promptly and obediently, the penalty for not doing so being harsh. Funeral expenses are solely the responsibility of my Representative, and if he does not do what is required, I shall haunt him from the afterlife.
Article III
All to nephew, Smok, except for a number of volumes from my extensive library which Semithino may wish to pilfer. I allow him up to twenty of my books, but he must not take any more than that, so that Smok may have a reasonable library as well.
Article IV
Should any beneficiary not survive me by 30 days, his share shall be distributed to Rexrei Wythwave, respectively.
Scaligar the Serpentine
Xelle the Lovely

A rather nice will, I think. Well, goodbye, world, goodbye, Smok. I bemoan my slow and cold departure.
-Your serpentine uncle,

1 comment:

  1. Oh, Scaligar. I'd feel sorry for him for being stuck in the cold, but I'm too busy laughing at the ridicularity of his situation.