At long last--Buying off the Weenie Award

[troubled sleep]

=waves= at long last/at the insistance of smallscale_mind_games I am now going to embark on an attempt to buy off my weenie award. I've had it for several months now, and while I've grown terribly attatched to it(gave it a name and enrolled it in private school and everything!) I'm beginning to suspect it to be past time for myself and the weenie award to part ways. . .

 

Also, if I've posted this in the wrong spot/on the wrong board, would someone with magical post-moving powers please do me a favor and relocate this post for me? Thank you!!!

 

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It was a cold night, but that was all right. It made sense actually. After all, it had been an inconspicuous warm summer night when she first left, leaving little more than a ripple in her wake. It seemed fitting that to-night this section of the Mighty Pen Keep be cold and deserted. But enough about the weather. The thing was that Samarria dy Chalia, better known as Samantha Carmichael, and better known still as Sam, telepath and fugitive was finally returning, at long last, to the Mighty Pen Keep.

Her expression was that of a tired determinacy that had kept her walking through cities and countryside and helped her negociate her way across the several planes of existence that separated her former world from that which houses the Keep. Strangely enough for having traveled so far, she carries very little luggage and certainly nothing to contend with the cumbersome cello case she'd rolled out with several months ago. She'd had to leave the cello case, cello, and much of her luggage behind in the last relatively safe town she'd passed through.

 

You see, Sam had been for the longest time abroad doing strange and interesting things such as taking tea with eccentric old ladies who imagined themselves to be Queen Victoria reincarnated, rescuing beautiful monsters from evil rampaging princesses*, stopping off to break into popular Broadway plays, and generally having quite an odd time of it when suddenly an out of place African swallow had arrived bearing a message for her. The message had been encased in a rather stubborn coconut** and Sam had to hock a bracelet in order to buy a hatchet with which to break it open. When she had finally finished happily smashing the coconuts to bits, Sam found a small scrap of purple paper which read in large, friendly letters*:

 

 

THE WEENIE AWARD.

You (there was a blank here in which the name "Sam" had been hastily scribbled), Page of the Pen are hear by presented with the WEENIE AWARD due to the fact that you neglected to participate in the not so recent roll call. You have been officially named MIA and perhaps even A-WOL and are thus encouraged to return to the Pen as soon as is convenient to "buy off" this award.

 

Yours etc., those personages who run the Mighty Pen.

 

P.S. It's usually at this point when a man in a large hot-dog costume will jump out of the bushes and begin following you mercilessly. (Sam, suddenly frightened, looked around warily. Seeing no one, however, she returned her gaze to the paper) However, due to recent budget cuts and re-appropriations of funds we regret to inform you that you shall have to do without the stalker and have to come back of your own accord. Deepest and sincerest apologies. - those personages who run the Pen.

 

 

Blinking, Sam tucked the piece of paper into a pocket, picked up the handle of her cello case and began walking back in the general direction of the Pen.

 

She had tried several times during her journey to sell the Weenie Award. She once concocted an elaborate story about the award’s magical abilities to try and lure people into buying it from her. No luck. Then she tried burning the paper, but it wouldn't catch fire so she experimented with throwing the paper in a nearby stream. This last approach seemed to work, but five seconds later the WEENIE AWARD jumped right back out again and a few harsh reprimanding words had suddenly been added to the text of the note. Finally, there seemed to other choice, she had to head back. It was then she’d checked the cello and her luggage in a nearby town, then she’d begun the long trip back to the Pen, that accursed piece of purple paper in her hand.

 

At long last, Sam finally made it to the practically deserted Cabaret Room where a few beings sat close to a roaring fire. As fate would have it, they were no one that Sam knew, and had therefore either come to the Pen long before or soon after her absence. Even in this familiar place, Sam felt her habitual shyness creeping back as she built up her mental blocks against any stray thoughts.

 

“Excuse me...I’m afraid I’ve been gone for quite some time...” Sam said nervously. “Would any of you happen to know where to go to-“ she glanced at the crumpled paper in her hand”-to ‘buy off’ the WEENIE AWARD??” there was no immediate reply, but one was hardly needed as just then another a pair of off-kilter European Swallows crash landed on a chair in front of her, sending their burden(a rather small coconut) sailing across the room. Sam trotted over after the coconut and, after a moment of fiddling with it, managed to get the thing open quite easily, something that was quite nice considering that she had left the hatchet with the rest of her luggage. This time, a small green piece of paper fluttered out from between the two halves of coconut. In the same famously large and alarmingly friendly letters that had graced the first sheet of paper, the green note read:

 

Please Wait. Someone will be with you shortly to address your situation. Thank you –The personages who run the Pen.

 

With a sigh Sam flopped into the nearest chair, purple WEENIE AWARD in one hand, green note in the other. Meanwhile the pair of swallows, which had by now quite recovered from their heavy load began to hum a song which sounded uncharacteristically like telephone hold music.

 

 

 

*Pardon the hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy allusion!

**Pardon the Monty python allusion!

 

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=shrugs= Well, I hardly know if that constitutes well written...or if it was even what we were supposed to do. But I'm terribly afraid that Merry(smallscale_mind_games) would have my head if I didn't post this...so please don't assasinate me!!