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Wednesday, September 22, 2004

The Fellowship of the Wok

Okay okay, you can be mad at me if you want to, I feel mad at myself myself. It's been two weeks since I updated this thing, too busy. You know, homework this revision that... Anyway, I'm quickly typing this before school so that there is a new entry up. I'll work on better ones when I get the time. (probably not soon)

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#04 - The Tale of the Undecided Tales: Fellowship
A fiction by Seraphim and friends

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The days went by as fast as the leaves fell onto the forest floor. Some time had passed since he found the One Wok of Ruling. During that time, he discovered some of the Wok's powers; to be able to control minor forest creatures and give himself some... controlled pleasure. I mean, hey, he was bored, so he tried to have fun with what else, himself.

After ages of staying alone in the forest with nothing to do, a loud bellowing of a horn was heard. Actually, it sounded as if the horn blew out a whining. Curious as to what made that strange sound, he went looking for the source of that noise.

What he found was the most queer thing that ever existed. He found a group of people, oddly matched and had the most curious characteristics. The one with the whining horn was a man with an outrageous beard, which seemed to be possessing motion of its own. The second was a knightly looking figure, but instead of a sword he wielded a large pencil and armoured with paper. His shield was but a large eraser. The third wasn't so apparently spotted, for she melted right into the shadows of the trees. When she finally stepped out of the shadows, she looked just like him; with the raven black complexion.

The man clad in hair stepped towards him. He opened his mouth to speak, which of course was hidden beneath the thick layers of hair, which made his voice seem to come from the hair itself. "Hear ye, hear ye, the Dark One of the forest. We from the distant lands have learnt of the reclaiming of the One Work of Ruling. Our ancient prophecy states, under section 407.11b paragraph 3 clause seven, that one who reclaims the One Wok of Ruling must bring it to the land of the Smelly Kitchen. With him will be his protectors, to make sure that he changes his underwear everyday.", declared the hair clad man.

Shoving the hairy one aside, the paper armoured knight cut him off. "Ah yes, where are our manners? Let me first introduce ourselves. I am the Voodoo Artist of the Square Table. The hairy one here is none other than the Bearded One. And our fair lady, or not so fair, is the DM of Wok. We are here to escort you to the land of the Smelly Kitchen, where you will return the Wok to where it truly belong."

"But I don't want to. It's mine! Mine alone! No one shall touch my little... precious...", he dragged. Cheerfully, the Voodoo Artist replied, "Oh, ok then. Guess we'll have our adventure elsewhere boys and girls!"

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Yes, it's true. I have lost my marbles. Comment on this one while I come up with another not so crappy entry.

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