Random –Battlecry: Thank you so much! Of course I take it as a compliment. Heehee. Goodness! I thought the Mysterious Chicken would escape everybody's attention at least until the continuation of the Second Slice, but hey! We'll see more of this Li'l Bugger here. And Yay(!) for this Slice is still full of Carl! Heck! I think all of the slices will be full of Carl, anyway! Hehe.
Kydasam: A million mountains of Thank You' s for the reviews. I am both honored and humbled. I'm glad to have madeyou laugh and I hope this continuation of the Second Slice puts a smile on your face too. My Beholder friend is blowing a kiss to you for the compliment. (the Beholder winks) Worry not for Carl because I'm more worried of what a certain monster hunter (not to mention the legions of Carl fans) will do to me if anything happens to our dear Friar. Hehe.
EmeVHfan: Glad to know I wasn't the only one hooting and whistling at Carl doing the "snake dance". (sniggers) Fret not over our Lovable Friar, okay? He's in more danger of getting glomped, as far as I can tell! Hope you'll keep reading and cheering for Carl.
SilverFlover: In answer to the feedback you sent me:ThankYouThankYouThankYou! I'm happy you liked the Mysterious Chicken too. Goodness! Why does everyone like the Mysterious Chicken so much? (grins knowingly) As for the question of how Carl will "defeat" our Beholder, I hope this installment will satisfy your curiosity. Oh, you liked the "snake dance" too! Sweet! Well, the picture of the Beholder did come out looking cute instead of scary. Mission Accomplished! (by the way, those are very beautiful pictures of Agnes and Midnight)
Alli Kat: In response to your e-groups post: Worry not over Green-Eyed Monster. Perhaps your PC is need of exorcising? But I'm glad it'll be updated soon! I'm also thrilled that you loved the doodle. Hope this one elicits a laugh from thee as well.
Rasinah: Molests, eh? (giggles) I'm so happy to have engaged the attention of one of my fave angst writers. I hope this one givesyou another giggle as I know your schedule can be hectic. Our little friar always has something up his sleeve, so don't you worry. Hehe. Thanks so much!
Disclaimer: I borrow and I return with interest and service charge. The Great Weapon that is Moony Eyes(1) was borrowed from Sariyuki who wrote a most wonderful & squee-worthy 3/8 Saiyuki fic about it- "Vice Versa".
Aye, everyone would be pleased to know that we will be serving more of the Mysterious Chicken in this Slice. Heehee.
A Splice of Life
Second Slice- The Semantics of Contracts (part 2 of 3)
As worded by: Nikoru Sanzo
The friar cautiously drew near the great creature. In years to come, Carl would regale even the most hardened of the Order's hunters with the tale of how, unarmed, he summoned the courage and approached a powerful and sadistic Beholder monster.
But of course, Carl would have to debate with himself later on if he'd include in the account the fact that the Beholder in question was sobbing like a child for want of companionship and was given to playing puppets with its tentacle eyes.
"E- Excuse me? Excuse me, o'l chap?" Carl shuffled diffidently and with a timid finger, began to poke the creature very, very gently.
The Beholder stopped crying and whirled about to face Carl. "What? Did I not tell you to go? Must you continue to torment me by flaunting the fact that I don't have anyone to keep me company? Go and take your annoying chicken friend with you! Leave me in peace!"
Normally, chickens don't snort, but Carl was sure that the one tucked in his arm did. He ignored his little friend and pressed on. "I only have a minor clarification to make."
"Like what? If I had been here for only two hundred and ninety-nine years instead of three hundred?" The Beholder pouted.
"N-No! Of course not! I mean, what your master said about not letting anyone go over the bridge to get to the Great Artifact."
The monster tapped its head with one of its tentacle eyes. "I did say I would kill you if you tried to cross it."
There was no turning back. Carl had to voice out his idea even as he felt his heart race in anticipation. "Suppose I could get to the stone pillar on the other side of the ravine without ever setting foot upon the bridge? Hmm?"
The Beholder knew what Carl was up to, but it frowned in disbelief. "I understand what you mean. But even if somehow you were able to get to the other side, I cannot allow you to take the Artifact."
Carl waved his hand and smiled. "Don't you see? Your master explicitly commanded you to guard the bridge and not let anyone cross it. But did he say anything about guarding the Great Artifact itself?"
"Hmph! Why do you think my master ordered me to guard the bridge and… oooh!"
A smile, frightening yet strangely comforting to Carl, slowly spread across the Beholder's face.
"I see what you mean. My master clearly never told me to defend the treasure, just the bridge. Clever, clever little human! But how will you cross the gorge without using the bridge?"
The friar walked over to the edge of the ravine and peered into it. His eyes swept across the yawning chasm and in his mind, calculations flew left and right as theorems and angles chorused the validity of his plan. Unfortunately, one very important tool was lacking.
Carl held up the chicken so that they were face to face. "You wouldn't happen to be able to lay an egg that hatches into a gun that fires a grappling hook, would you?"
Normally, chickens don't grunt in distaste whenever a miracle was asked of them, but Carl was sure this one did. He sighed and shook his head.
"No, I suppose you wouldn't."
He could certainly use Van Helsing's help right now. Just as well. Swinging over a bottomless pit would call for copious amounts of courage, not to mention the ale needed to wash away any trace of reason in him.
But the only other alternative requires more of valor, less of sanity, and tons of faith.
In situations such as this, beggars couldn't afford to be choosers. Even with the possibility of one wrong move or word that would leave one begging for a swift and painless end.
Carl looked at the Beholder.
"What? I do not like the way you are staring at me. You have the look of a man who is planning something very unpleasant", the Beholder complained.
Carl grinned sheepishly. "Not unpleasant, really. Nothing of the sort. We just need your help, that's all."
The creature eyed him suspiciously. "My help? Does this plan of yours entails my doing most of the work?"
"It shouldn't be difficult for you. Maybe you could sort of carry my friend and me across the ravine? Please? Pretty, pretty please?" Carl pleaded and made moony eyes (1) at the Beholder.
"Pretty please with fried spiders on top?" The Beholder teased Carl.
"Yes, yes, with spiders and every other repulsive thing in the universe on top." Carl nodded. "Now would you care to carry us over to the other side?"
The Beholder lowered itself until it was level with Carl. "All right. Now climb on my back."
But before Carl could do so, the creature suddenly started laughing until each eye was almost brimming with tears.
"May I ask what's funny? Wait... Do I even want to know?" Carl inquired, immensely perplexed.
The Beholder attempted to explain, "Ah, I told you to climb on to my back, but since I technically do not have a body, then where is the back you will be climbing on to? Eh- hehe?"
When no favorable reaction, not even a slight chuckle, was to be elicited from the friar and the chicken, the Beholder could only snort.
"Three hundred years of solitude and the first creature with a smidgen of intelligence that I meet cannot even appreciate a Beholder joke!"
"Huh?" Carl scratched his head.
"Never mind. Just hop in."
The Beholder flinched as Carl climbed onto its head. It was grossly unaccustomed to the added weight, much less to the feel of a man squirming among its tentacle eyes.
"Watch it! Watch it! I do not want you poking my eyes even by accident!" the creature warned.
"Oh my! It tickles!" Carl giggled as he fidgeted in his place among the tentacle eyes.
The creature asked slyly, "Tight-fitting linen trousers? Do they not chafe your –ehem- frail human skin? Wouldn't a tiny cotton loincloth be more comfortable?"
It dawned upon Carl, much to his horror, that the tickling sensation was caused by one stray tentacle eye that has found it way between his legs and into his robes!
"My choice of-- of undergarments is hardly your concern! Could you please remove your eye from out of my robes? A man requires some degree of privacy, you know?" Carl huffed and blushed as he hugged his legs close to his chest.
The Beholder snickered. "Fine! Like I could profit from what I just saw in there!"
Normally, chickens don't glare over any form of indiscretion done to their companions, but Carl was sure this one did.
"Ah-haha? It was just curious?" Carl endeavored to justify himself to the chicken, which merely clucked and glared (if chickens could glare) at him.
When everyone has settled and the chicken amply warned not to peck at the tentacle eyes (as irresistible as it was to the chicken), the Beholder inhaled deeply and rose from the ground.
"Hold on tight, children! Keep your hands to your sides and kindly refrain from looking down at the bottomless pit and sharp jagged rocks below us. You will not want me to deal with any results of motion- sickness." The Beholder reminded them in an oddly cheerful manner.
Carl hugged the chicken with one arm, using the other to balance himself. He held on to one of the eyestalks but was reproved by the monster.
"You can hold on to it if you like but no squeezing, please? I am very ticklish."
The thought of their carrier bursting into fits of laughter, rolling and twisting in midair over the chasm drained all color from Carl's face. He immediately let go of the eyestalk and patted the Beholder's head.
"Then you could just go slow and steady. We're not exactly rushing into anything deep and bottomless." Carl gulped nervously and willed himself to remain calm. He embraced the chicken a little tighter, close to his chest.
Normally, chickens cluck and make a lot of fuss when pressed against anything, but Carl was sure this one didn't. The friar whispered a little prayer, his heart pounding hard against his chest as they began to inch their way across the ravine.
The journey didn't take more than several minutes. But it wasn't exactly the smoothest and most quiet one in history either. Every few feet or so, the Beholder dipped sharply and then corrected itself, eliciting a surprised peep from the chicken and a scolding from the agitated friar.
"That's not funny!" Carl protested. If falling into the chasm won't kill him, a heart attack would. Fortunately, they were nearing the stone pillar and the treasure it held.
The creature only giggled its apology. "Sorry. I will do no such thing again." It pointed one of its tentacle eyes forward. "Land ho!"
Barely had the Beholder lowered itself on to the stone pillar when Carl let out a sigh of relief and collapsed on top of the creature's head.
"You are not planning to stay up there forever, are you?" The Beholder grumbled.
Carl, chicken still in his arm, got up and slid down from the monster's head. He straightened his robes and gave the Beholder an affectionate pat and tenderly rubbed its side.
"Only with your express permission." The friar smiled and was oddly pleased when the Beholder blushed. Poor lonely thing, indeed!
The top of the stone pillar upon which they now stood was only about twenty feet in diameter. The ancient metal chest that supposedly held the treasure sat in the center of the platform.
The Beholder closed its eyes and seemed to sniff the air around them. "I detect no traps. You are fortunate for that fool of a wizard placed much confidence on my ability to guard the bridge."
Carl ran his hands over the lid. "You are certainly doing a good job. Shall we?"
The creature nodded and floated closer to them. Having deemed that the monster has crossed too much space between itself and Carl, the chicken angrily flapped his wings as if to shoo away the Beholder.
"Hmm. Touchy fellow," the monster remarked.
Carl reached down to stroke the chicken's head. "Can't blame him. He's not exactly having a grand day."
The friar inspected the metal chest and found no locks or other mechanisms that would keep them from opening it. He looked up to see the Beholder slightly quivering its ten eyestalks.
"You seem awfully excited about this." Carl observed.
The Beholder grinned. "I cannot help it. I have been itching to know what object of such great importance has been put in there."
Carl frowned. "You mean you didn't know? Didn't your master ever tell you?"
"It was not my fault that he croaked right after summoning me and I agreed to his terms. I only assumed that he did not want the chest opened. Gah! How incredibly foolish I have been!" And the monster proceeded to pound its head with eight of its closed tentacle eyes.
Carl raised his palm to halt the self- inflicted abuse, but to no avail. "No need to beat yourself up. Oh, please, stop it! It's not your fault!"
Normally, chickens don't chuckle in glee when faced with the sight of a monster beating itself silly, but Carl was sure this one did. The friar glared at his little companion before stomping his foot.
"Now cease that senseless hitting! Nobody here thinks any less of you. Do you want to know what's inside the chest or not?"
The Beholder paused, and coughed. "Forgive me, little human. All right, you may open the chest and we shall see what my master was so uptight about."
Without much effort, Carl pried the lid open and peered into the chest. He stared at the content in silence, his eyes widened in shock. He reached into the trunk and pulled something from inside. Carl approached the Beholder, the treasure hidden in his closed palm.
"What is it? Is it gold? Jewels? A tiny vial of magical oil that changes into 83 different flavors including pumpkin and sautéed shrimp paste? What is it?" the Beholder asked.
Carl only stared with a dumbfounded look before holding up his hand. He slowly opened his palm to reveal the Great Artifact.
To be continued...
... if the Great Artifact doesn't turn out to be an Internet Connection Problem Monster.
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