YAY! I WON AN AWARD! I'M A WEE...

[Snypiuer]

Snypiuer slept. And as he slept, he dreamnt. Now, the dreams of the semi-devine are not, in any sense, normal. They are full of portents and premonitions. Visions of the past, present and future. Actions within the dreams of the semi-devine can, and usually do, have real and substantial consequences upon the waking world. Thus, Snypiuer was not unaccustomed to strange and bewildering dreams.

 

This dream, how ever, brought great concern to the sleeping Demi-God. Within it, he saw visions of flames and heard the smaking of lips from a hungry beast. A stiffling heat seemed to press down upon him like a smothering blanket. Yet, he also smelled the succulent aroma of roasting meat. It drifted all about, bringing deep and cavernous rumblings from deep within the sleeping Demi-God's belly.

 

Sensing the wrongness, Snypiuer woke himself. He awoke to find the large fireplace in his sleeping quarters stacked with large pieces of wood and a raging fire burning within. Flames literally licking out beyond it's confines. Perplexed, Snypiuer wondered how his bed had become so close to the fireplace and why the fire within was so large. Hearing a swishing noise, he looked down at the foot of his bed to find Mr. Moog (a rather large - about 2 1/2 feet tall and about as wide - squirrel. Who also happens to be a powerful mage in his own right and one of three of Snypiuers closest companions) using a mop to spread what appeared to be mustard on a giant hot dog bun. Realizing that Snypiuer had awakened, Mr. Moog quickly dropped the mop, tried to stand in front of the giant hot dog bun, all the while twiddling his thumbs, and nonchallantly whistleng and looking around innocently. He then ran out of the room as fast as he could.

 

It was at this time that Snypiuer realized what had happened. The succulent smell of roasting meat came from him. Looking down, his worst fears were realized. Snypiuer had become:

 

A WEENIE.

 

Snypiuer rose from his bed and slowly dressed (It was rather difficult, considering he was now a giant weenie with weenie fingers and such. Not to mention, Mr. Moog's attempted cooking had caused Snypiuer to plump up. All of this making Snypiuer's attire to not quite fit. Yet, he managed.) In a voice, soft, yet commanding, Snypiuer said, "Pith, Silvia" and after a short pause, "Mr. Moog. Attend me. Now." In an instant, three seperate rips in reality open around Snypiuer and a squirrel of about 3 feet in hight steps from each. The rips then wink out of existence.

 

These are Snypiuer's closest companions. Taking in the situation, both Pith and Silvia quickly surmise what has taken place and, with arms crossed across their chests' and feet tapping, glare at Mr. Moog. Meanwhile, Mr. Moog is the picture of innocence. Blinking wide eyed, with a "Why-so-ever are you looking at me in such a way?" look upon his face. "Forget it." Snypiuer says, "We go to fix this."

 

Snypiuer rips reality and there before him are the doors to the Tavern. They slam open as he enters, followed by his companions. All is quiet. Everyone within, following the Demi-God with their eyes, as they feel the emense and ancient energies that pulse from his being. He slowly walks to the center of the Tavern. Stops. And looks around with a glare that would make a Demon Lord cower like a 7 year old girl thrown into a pit of rabid tigers.

 

Then.... it happens.

 

The entire Tavern bursts into maniacal laughter. Snypiuer is, of course, a giant weenie. Several patrons fall of their chairs and even more relieve themselves uncontrollably. Two patrons actually die laughing and one literally bursts a lung (He gets better. But, is now called Wheezy.) Snypiuer patiently waits for the laughter to die down. It takes a while. A very LONG while. When it is finally calm, Snypiuer addresses the crowd, "Funny. I know. But, this state will not last long. I have been punished for not being more attentive. I am now here to correct this indescretion."

 

Looking around, he continues, "What you may not know, is that, within the pantheon of Gods, there is a place none other has claimed. I claim that place now. Let it be known, that from this moment on, I am the Lesser Devine Being of Outdoor Cooking. This form shall be my avatar. Along with Captain Keg (Snypiuer points at Mr. Moog who becomes a walking keg of ale. He finds this disconcerting. That is, until he realizes there is a hose with a spigot coming out of the top of his head. It then becomes disconcerting to everyone else in the Tavern as he begins to drink out of himself.) Senior Sauce (Snypiuer points at Pith, who suddenly is wearing a giant sombrero with 2 six shooters, an ammo belt and criss-crossing bandolears. All full of ammo. But, instead of bullets, this ammo shoots any and all kinds of sauces anyone could ever imagine to put on food. He begins to expertly shoot ketchup, mustard, and various other condiments at everyones food in the Tavern.)"

 

Sensing where things are headed, Silvia makes a valiant (yet futile) attempt to flee. Pointing at Silvia, Snypiuer continues, "And Side Dish Sil (Silvia finds herself dressed in an apron with many pockets, from which she can produce any side dish imaginable. Mac and cheese, beans, potato salad, fried Grxl knuckles. The list is endless.) Together, we will bless those who give their all when cooking outdoors and punish those who take outdoor cooking lightly. Basically, the blessings and punishments will be the same. We'll show up, sit around and eat your food, drink your soda, etc. But, we will bring our own ale, in the form of Captain Keg. On a side note, I also claim the title: 'Spokes Cherub of Processed Meats'. Which, of course, will give me the slightly-less-then-semi-devine ability and right to sample any and all processed meats in my immediate vicinity.........for free."

 

Everyone in the Tavern stares blankly at the turn of events and news, that now, they have to worry about devine freeloaders showing up at their bar-b-ques and picnics. Snypiuer bows and says, "Thank you all for listening. I will attempt to be more attentive in the future." Transforming himself into his normal appearance, Snypiuer then turns and leaves, followed by Senior Sauce and Side Dish Sil, who are rolling the now drunkenly comatose Captain Keg before them and through the rip in reality. Which winks out of existence behind them. A chorus of chuckles can be heard lightly upon the air.

 

As one, the patrons in the Tavern look at eachother and all around, and say, "Aww, CRAP!!!"

[Gyrfalcon]

*chuckles*

 

Interesting... Now BBQ parties will have to contend with Snypiuer and crew AND Wyvern...

 

Oh well, into every life, a little rain must fall... or every silver lining needs a cloud... or something like that.

 

Anyway, an interesting and funny story, Snypiuer... I hope that the healing on the guy who burst his lung takes better...

 

*Snypuier feels the last traces of weenie-ness fade from him, collecting in the persona of the Lesser Devine Being of Outdoor Cooking.*

[Wyvern]

Clam Chowder Head and Metal Lady Fingers of the Special Chef Operations Outfit march into the Assembly Room in a single file line. They both drop the large aprons full of items that they carry, and begin setting up a strange idol in the center of the room. A golden cheesegrater is connected to two jumbo-sized spoons and a frying pan, forming a metalic stick figure of sorts. The cooking operatives both bow before the makeshift statue, and begin humming cooking show tunes under their breaths.

 

"Oh Snypieur, great Lesser Devine Being of Outdoor Cooking." Clam Chowder Head's white New England broth spills over a bit as he speaks. "Please, aid us in eliminating the nuisance Wyvern; bane of all cooking... outdoors, indoors, and elsewhere."

 

"Even microwavable." Metal Lady Fingers grovels, her spork fingers digging into the dirt surrounding the idol. "Please, great Lesser Devine Being of Outdoor Cooking, endow us with your secret sauces and special side dishes. We are but mere elite chefs concerned for the state of cooking as a whole."

 

As the Special Chef Operatives continue to grovel and pray, the golden cheesegrater seems to glint in a mysterious hue.

 

OOC: great story, Snypieur. ;-) I loved the transformations of the sidekicks.

[BelchFire]

BelchFire comes in out of the aether, shaking the dust off of his personae and stretching the time out of his absence. "Yeeeeeee... Ah!"

 

"So, Belchfire," asked random bystander #47, "How is it you got the name 'BelchFire'?"

 

"Glad you asked!" he replied with a grin, then setled back in a studious pose, his gaze looking to the horizon of his memory.

 

"You've all seen me tell a story and play my flute through a peaceful evening. Yes, ordinarily I am BelchFire, the gentle and *cough* mild mannered flautist, but when it comes time to cook..."

 

Suddenly a dark cloud rolled in over the Assembly. As the daylight dimmed a hellish red glow pervaded the room, and a thick smoke choked the patrons and squeezed tears from their eyes. "Mesquite!" shouted random Assembly room patron #34¾ as he dove under a table.

 

"MuaHahahahahaha!" laughed Belchfire in a resounding demonic voice. "At cooking time I become the formidable, the fiery, the searing, the Hot! Hot! Hot! BBQ BelchFire!" He waved a BBQ pitchfork in a mittened fist, and in the other he wielded the Tongs of DOOM. His face was black with soot, through which poked his eyes like teriyaki skewers and his learing grin like a cheshire shish-kabob. "And I don't stop until I am well done! HA! HA HA!"

 

"Look at that," shouted random passerby #1, "He's a weenie!"

 

Belchfire looked as though the smoke had suddenly gone out of his sails. "Oh my..."

 

I'll have to do something about that.

 

(Excellent weenie post Snypiuer, a real inspiration to the rest of us! )

Edited July 26, 2005 by BelchFire