Disclaimer: Oh, you know this already, this is like, the pinapple chapter or something?
The song's by me.
Chapter Pinapple
Hehe . . .
You all remember the crazed chickens from a previous chapter, riiiiiight?
(Say yes or be sacrificed to the Evil Chicken God)
YES! You see, you DO remember them!
(Well, wasn't that predictable)
Wait a minute . . .
(Minute's ticking)
. . . who are you?
(Tick tock tick tock tick tock)
What?
(Imitates very annoying clock ticking)
Wasn't that what you did last time?
(Tickety tock)
Umm . . . well . . .
(Well what?)
Who are you?
(That's a good question . . . I'll have to think about that one . . . )
Okay . . . so, um, BACK TO OUR CHARACTERS . . .
(Silence)
Aren't you gonna say something?
(More silence)
Well?
(Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilllllllllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeence)
. . . weird . . . but who cares, we all are.
(Yup.)
You talked!
(Oh, just get to the characters already, two of them are staring at us right now!)
They are?
(Yes.)
They are?
(Read my last answer.)
They are?
(Oh, for jeez sake, look down, will ya!)
Oh . . . they are . . .
(Sigh)
Hey!
(Cha cha cha)
Below the two arguing voices, sitting calmly on the roof (Ok, not calmly, but you get the picture) (Will you shut up already?) both Palmer and Flint were staring upwards. All they could see was a skinny girl arguing with air.
Well, it LOOKED like she was arguing with air. She could be arguing with a ghost, or an invisible alvocado, or a nonexistant hat. You never know, do you?
"Umm . . . " Palmer began.
"Leave it," Flint advised. "Some things are just not meant to be discussed.
"Like why a tomato is a vegable when it actually is a fruit but a whole bunch of people call it a vegable despite the fact that a tomato is actually a fruit . . . "
?"Hey! Two lines! Cool!"
"There's only one line, Tanis!"
"But origionally there was two! Where'd the second one go?"
"Little blue gremlins took it. Go figure."
Tanis and Kitiara were staring at the place where the second line had been until the little blue gremlins stole it, completely ignoring the fact that the Evil Twisted Demented Kindegardeners (I found out how to spell that word! Yayy!) were presently tying Sturm to the mast with twizzlers.
"How can you tie someone up with twizzlers?" Tanis asked, looking very confuzzled. (Thanks Del)
"Because it's been magically enhanced so it tastes like iron, is just as tough to break, but bends and tied really really easily." Kitiara informed him.
"How do you know?"
"Little blue gremlins told me. Actually, it's the same one that just stole the second line."
"Oh . . . we're supposed to be staring at that, right?"
"Yep. We better get on it before the authors come back."
"Authors? I though there was only one . . . now I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm confuzzled! I'm-"
SLAP!
Kitiara withdrew her hand from Tanis's lips. "There are two authors but they represent one author. One is the author's insane-but-wise side, the other is her insane-but-totally-screwed-and-out-of-wack side."
"Oh . . . which is which?" Tanis, calming down, asked.
Kitiara eyes him. "Do you really want to know?"
Tanis glanced at the sky, then turned back to the space where the second line was.
"Aren't we supposed to be rescuing Sturm?"
"In a minute. This is way to interesting."
Kit decided not to ask.
Bunnies are evil.
Palmer and Flint (Palmer had finally shut her trap) were quietly staring at the still-arguing authoress. Of course, they didn't notice the cloud of dust rising in the distance . . .
(How dramatic)
Will you shut up?
(Make me!)
Palmer shrugged and began air-guitaring again. Arguing with yourself can be fun, and watching someone else argue with themself can be fun, but only for about 3 nanoseconds, and she was . . .
(Duh duh duh)
. . . bored.
"Dancing by my window, late at night
Unable to see past my blinded sight
Oh, moonlight can shine so very bright
But how can it make my dark world light?"
Palmer began strumming as swaying slightly, singing loudly. Flint shivered. The two arguing voices (both the girl and the whatever) stopped and watched.
"Explain that to me
And tell me why I'm not happy
Can you even see
All I really have is me?"
Palmer swayed more, her head tilted and singing. Flint, the girl, and the nonexistant hat/invisible alvocado/ghost/thingy clutched their ears. Technically, a nonexistanthat/invisible alvocado/ghost cannot clutch its ears, but, because of the added parakeets to the forest, it can.
Go figure.
"So away, away, away
I'll dance
By my window,
And sway, sway, sway
Bend the world by sheer chance
And lo,
I can seeeeeeeee meeeeeeeeeee."
Palmer swayed hard and strummed furiously, her voice rising as she belted her kender heart out. Her shrill voice penetrated the palms of those clutching their ears and dazed Palmer's companions.
"And lo,
I can seeeeeeeeeeeeeeee meeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Flint, the girl, the nonexistand hat/invisible alvocado/ghost, and just about everyone else within the Inn collapsed, completely unconsience.
Palmer stared around. They had fallen asleep during her wonderful singing.
Oh, how rude.
Tut tut.
They needed to be taught some manners.
Grinning despite the anger flaming her cheeks, Palmer pulled the cap of her green permanet marker. She'd seen this on a TV show once. Approaching Flint's make-uped dwarf face, she raised her arm . . .
When she finished with her business on the roof, she skipped back through the window and preceeded to teach all the knocked-out patrons some serious manners. All in lime green permanent ink . . .
hehe.
"Ooh! Ooh!" Tanis cried, pointing. "I think I found the missing second line!"
"You did?" Kitiara exclaimed.
"Yes."
Both stared enraptured at the second line . . .
. . . ten minutes later . . .
. . . twenty minutes later . . .
. . . thirty minutes later . . .
"Oh, screw you!" the girl who had awakened herself but not her other self from being knocked out by Palmer's Very Bad Singing shrieked, stomping over. Grabbing both characters by the throat, she turned them around to face the Wild Kindegardener Camp. The Wild Kindegardeners were, you see, preparing one of those stick thingys where you turn the stick over the fire and roast it . . . hasn't anyone ever watched this on TV?
. . . no? . . .
Sigh.
"Hey, aren't we supposed to be doing something?" Kitiara asked after a minute or so of staring at the Wild Kindegardeners and Bunnyman.
The girl, sighing, picked up two long sticks and proceeded to poke both of them in the backs.
. . . two minutes later . . .
"Hey, why are you doing that?" Tanis asked, craning his neck to see. Trying to would be more the point.
"Poke poke poke." was his answer.
"Huh?"
"Poke."
"Huh?"
"Poke."
"Huh?"
"Poke."
"Huh?"
"Poke."
"Huh?"
"Poke."
"Huh?"
"Poke."
"Huh?"
"Poke."
"SHUT UP ALREADY!" A blue gremlin, unable to take this anymore, screamed.
"Pokity." the girl stopped poking Margaret Weis's characters and leaned forward. "You're supposed ot be doing something, riiiiiiiiight?"
"Um, yeah, sure." Tanis replied.
"But you aren't doing it, riiiiiiiiiiiiight?"
"Uh . . . no?"
"So do you think you should go do it?"
"Um . . . " Kitiara paused to think.
Tanis paused to think.
(YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE RESCUING STURM!) the nonexistant hat/ghost/invisible alvocado/thingy shrieked.
"Ohhhhhhh . . . " Kitiara nodded.
Both authoresses waited expectantly.
"What do you expect us to do?" Tanis finally asked after several moments of being looked at expectantly.
The girl and GIANHT (Ghost/invisible alvocado/nonexistant hat/thingy) both cursed and, using Authorly Powers, flung Kitiara and Tanis straight into the Kindegardener's midst.
. . . A nanosecond later . . .
"Well, this sucks." Tanis grumbled as he stared glumly at the magical Twizzlers binding him and Kitiara to the same pole as Bunnyman, er, Sturm.
(That was stupid)
You did it too.
(I meant shoving those too smack into the middle of those Wild Kindegardeners, not drinking all those cokes before we began this story)
Yeah, both were kinda stupid.
(Ya think they'll get out of this one?)
Nope.
(No chance whatsoever)
Ya want another coke? I added extra caffine.
(Sure)
Palmer emerged from the Inn smiling brightly and skipping gaily, her tie-died hair fluttering in the wind. She stopped to cap the marker and stick it back into her pocket. She went to the edge of the railing and peered downward. Thus, since she was looking down, she didn't see the GIANHT swoop over her and fling down a flute thingy.
Bonk.
"Hey!" Palmer snatched the flute thingy and looked at this. "This seems familiar . . . hey, doesn't this belong to Harry Potter?"
(Duh. It's shaped like an owl.)
"How did you get it?" Palmer asked, admiring the handiwork. Unique indeed.
(Well, think about it: has this little beauty appeared ANYWHERE after the first book?)
"No . . . " Palmer considered. "Nope."
(Let's just Harry left it lying around and we borrowed it, made some changes, and dropped it on your head.)
"Oh. Ok."
(Why don't cha blow it?)
"OK!" Palmer grinned and tuted the owl flute thingy. It sounded incredibly like an owl. She tried it out a little, then grinned, and proceeded to play the tune for 'The Chicken Dance.'
GIANHT flew away, cackling.
YOU DID WHAT?
(I only gave her the flute. As a present. I like her)
This wouldn't happen to be the one that we charmed so that it summons Moon Loon crazed chickens, now would it?
(No . . . )
You are so screwed.
Palmer danced as she played, laughing. She did it surprisingly well.
So well that she failed to notice the cloud of dust rising in the distance . . .
"What's that?" she asked herself, skipping up to the other side and peering out. As she did, the wind blew across her slender frame, sending a few pouches tumbling to the floor. Various rings, pieces of paper, pencils, spoons, and other things scattered across the floor, along with a little pile of purple-pinky powder than poured from a pouch made entirely of sequins . . .
Kneeling down, she leaned over to pick up her stuff when a stray breeze flew across the floor, sending purple-pinky powder straight into Palmer's face. She blinked and sucked in a breath, then coughed and swallowed. Brushing the rest of the powder off her face, she paused to lick her fingers. The powder tasted good.
The bag spilled out more, and another breezed flung it too the air, wafting straight into the faces of three companions who were presently tied up with Twizzlers.
I don't think I have to remind you guys of what this means.
The girl and the hat, though based on me, are MY CHARACTERS!
hehe . . . look for the next chapter soon . . . I'll give you a clue: chicky minions.
Please review!