What Really Happened in Eragon?
Chapter 8: Die-Hard Eagles Fans & Barbie Dolls
Saphira flew with speed and grace only a dragon can have. She soared high above the clouds in the cold, mountainous air. The only sound were the flap of her wings and the whisper of the wind as it rushed by the four as they flew like bullets on the wind, propelled by some unseen force-
"How come you're being so detailed?"
"Just because this is a humor fic doesn't mean I can't be deep, Eragon. Now do you want me to throw you off Saphira again?"
"No." Eragon said sadly.
"So shut up."
"Fine, I will."
Saphira was flying as fast as a bullet through the mountains. Lately, Arya had been being an even more annoying actress, so much that Saphira had strapped her to her stomach and flew so high that Arya passed out from lack of oxygen. They were entering the Beor mountain range, and the Varden was not too far away.
Murtagh pulled out the pages he had printed off of MapQuest and read them aloud to Saphira. "Ok, It says we should take a left at the intersection of Mount Fish and the Magical Rock of Super Fantabulous Hope and Wonder, Then hang a right a mile past the Fountain of Flaming Guacamole." He read.
Why do humans come up with the most ridiculous names for landmarks? The Magical Rock of Super Fantabulous Hope and Wonder? It's just a rock! I'd call it gray-hard-rock-big. It's a simple, practical name and it doesn't have any extra flimflam that most-
"Saphira! MOUNTAIN!" Yelled Eragon, cutting off Saphira's rant, pointing at the mountain they were about to crash into. Too late, Saphira looked in front of her. They hit the rock with a sickening thud. Saphira fell from the sky.
"SAPHIRA YOU IDIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!" Eragon screamed as he fell from the sky next to the flailing dragon.
But they didn't die. They hit the ground and bounced up nearly as high as the mountain they had crashed into. They fell again, and bounced again, slightly lower this time. Repeatedly they bounced and fell until they stopped bouncing at all.
"I'm gonna be sick…" muttered Murtagh, who was a nasty shade of green-grey.
How did we survive? And why did we bounce?
"That would be our patented Varden Floor Trampoline, disguised to look exactly like mountainous terrain, only $999,999,999,999.99 plus $9.99 shipping and handling." Said a voice next to Eragon .
"Gah!" Eragon jumped and moved away. "Dude, too close! And who are you?" he said. A really small dude completely decked out in flight attendant clothes greeted them.
"I am Orik, your personal guide to Tronjhiem. I handle all new, important guests to our beautiful, esteemed city. How may I help you?"
How did you know we'd crash?
"Good Morning America did a documentary on your lives. We learned enough from that to know you'd kill yourselves coming here. We took every precaution necessary. Now, if you will please follow me through the Varden patented Hidden Waterfall Cave Door. Please keep your hands and feet to yourselves at all times as we enter the main city. For your convenience, we have added patented…
It's like talking to tour guide Barbie.
You nailed his personality in one disturbing sentence. I hope we're not stuck with him too long.
The four, well three since Eragon made Murtagh carry a still unconscious Arya, stepped into a huge hollow chamber in which there were many houses and shops and whatnot.
"They're all shorties like LoserOrik!" Yelled Eragon, calling Orik a new nickname he had thought of himself. Orik gave Eragon the only expression his job permitted him to give: a cheesy smile that scared the pants off of Eragon with its slightly insane tinge of fake happiness. Nonetheless, Eragon was right. The people there were mostly dwarves who either glared at Eragon or laughed at him; apparently they had all seen the GMA documentary.
"Hey LoserOrik, how come I didn't know about this documentary thing?" Eragon asked Orik.
"They used hidden cameras and such. It was very funny. They captured every moment of your journey, and then they sold it to 20th Century Fox, who made an absolutely terrible adaptation of your life. It was even funnier to see all the mistakes they made."
"Oh. So, like, where are we going?"
"To see King Hrothgar, Lord Ajihad, and his…" Orik shuddered. "… and Lord Ajihad's daughter, Nasuada. They are in the throne room. Take a look around this lovely, slimy, smelly, cave-like cavern. Established in 1975, Tronjhiem is…"
Orik continued to rant on about the history of Tronjhiem. Eragon blocked it out completely, and started thinking about cheese and chocolate bunnies. He didn't even notice when he entered the throne room.
"Greetings, Dragon Rider. I am King Hrothgar."
"Hah? Whodat?" said Eragon, snapping out of his thoughts. He looked around for King Hrothgar. Nothing.
"Um, Mr. Shortie King? Where are you?" he said looking around.
"I am here, big one." Said a voice, coming from someone Eragon couldn't see.
"Where?"
"Down here, you doof!" said the voice again, annoyed. Eragon looked down and saw the king. He was barely 6 inches tall and wore teeny weeny expensive clothes. He sat in a little pink plastic Barbie Princess Throne and was trying to get Eragon's attention.
"Oh, there you are Mr. King Dude." Said Eragon, kneeling. "How come you're so small?"
"That's not important. What is important is your loyalty. We must know if you're with us."
"Whatevs, but you gotta cure Arya. She's so dang annoying! Do you know what she has?"
"That sounds like Dramaqueenitis. We will heal her immediately. Ajihad, you may enter and question Eragon now!" said King Hrothgar. He called for Ajihad.
There was a loud bang as a door slammed open. A rather plump African American man stood in the threshold. He wore green bermuda shorts, a homemade green cape, and a green and white football jersey that read #5 DONOVAN MCNABB. His face was painted green and he wore one of those weird soda-drinking hats that you bring to sports events. His eyes lit up when he saw Eragon.
"E-R-A-G-O-N- ERAGON!" The man shouted. He jumped from the ledge he stood on, his cape billowing behind him. "I-AM-AJIHAAAAAAAD! "
Murtagh dropped Arya, who made a small, dainty scream.
"Um… hi?" said Eragon, tentatively waving his hand.
"W-H-A-T- WHAAAAAAAAT?"
Eragon thought for a second, and then had an idea. He bent his knees slightly and held his arms out, also bent. "U-M-H-I- UM HIIIIIII!" He yelled.
"W-A-S-S-U-P-WASSUP!"
"N-O-T-M-U-C-H- NOT MUCH!"
"DO- YOU- LIKE- THE- E-A-G-L-E-S-EAGLES!?!?!?"
"W-H-A-T-E-V-E-R-D-U-D-E-I-D-O-N-T-C-A-R-E-S-U-R-E- WHATEVER DUDE, I DON'T CARE, SURE!
"C-O-N-G-R-A-T-U-L-A-T-U-L-A-T-I-O-N-S CONGRATULATIONS! Y-O-U- P-A-S-S YOU PASS!
"U-M-O-K-W-H-A-T-E-V-S- UM OK WHATEVS!"
"B-Y-E- E-R-A-G-O-N! BYE ERAGON!"
With that, Ajihad swept his cape over his face and ran back out the door.
Everyone in the room stared at the now closed door.
"W-E-L-L- *ahem* Well, that was weird." Said Eragon.
King Hrothgar looked ready to speak, but he was interrupted by a small green explosion of smoke. Once again, Eragon's eyebrows were singed off.
"Oh, no, here we go again…" said Hrothgar, putting his face in his hand.
"Heeeeeeeeeey its Nasuada!" yelled a voice from the smoke. When it cleared, there stood a young African American girl that looked a lot like Ajihad, not much older than Eragon and wearing a green and white cheerleader outfit reading EAGLES CHEER GIRL. She saw Eragon and her eyes widened like her father's.
"Why, hello! Hello! Have a good time here! My name is Nasuada and I love cheer! WOOO! GO EAGLES! ALL THE WAY THIS YEAR, BABY, YEAH!" She screamed, doing various back flips and splits that made Murtagh turn green again.
I doubt the Eagles will win. It's been, like, 50 years since they won the super bowl. Saphira said to Eragon skeptically.
Their team may stink, but they do have the most spirited fans. Just look at Nasuada and her dad! And for that matter, all of the Philadelphia area. All through those 50 years of pain and loss, the noble Eagles fans still remain loyal to their home team. That's true sportsmanship.
Well, Mr. Deep and Dedicated, I didn't know you had a vocabulary of +25 words. I have to write this down somewhere.
Ha ha. Very funny. Just listen to the freaky cheerleader.
"… so we'll win for sure! YEAH!"
"So… what was the point of us coming in here and listen to the wannabe cheerleader scream at us?" Eragon asked, bored. Nasuada glared at him like he had just blown up Tronjhiem.
"Good point. Nasuada, go away." Said King Hrothgar. Nasuada looked glum. It was clear she had more cheers she wanted to show everyone. She scowled, and there was another small explosion, and she was gone.
The King then turned his gaze on Murtagh, who was standing in a corner facing the wall and not saying anything.
"Turn around, son, so that I might see your face." He said to Murtagh.
"Muluffle floopie nibbertome ni!" Murtagh replied.
"Turn around so I can hear what you're saying!"
"Miff…" said Murtagh, but he turned around.
King Hrothgar gasped. "Seize him! He is the son of Morzan, the evil dude!" Immediately, guards ran from around the room and tied and gagged Murtagh.
"Aren't you gonna try and stop us from imprisoning him?" King Hrothgar asked Eragon.
"Heh, I don't care!" Eragon Answered. Murtagh's eyes widened and he started struggling, making strange noises that sounded like death threats through his gag.
"Ok, then… Eragon, now that we know you are on our side, you can go explore until Galbatorix finds us. We will take Arya now." Said King Hrothgar. He clapped his hands. Some healers came and picked up Arya, straining from the weight. "Have fun. Orik!"
Orik came running. "Please, follow me into your dank, dark cave were you will stay. Our luxury dragon suites that you will stay in are large and spacious enough to-"
"All righty LoserOrik, I think that's enough." Said Eragon as they go to the cave. Eragon pushed Orik 20 feet in the other direction and then slammed the door in his face.
They slept in their cave that night, but Eragon didn't get any sleep because Saphira had a nightmare and asked to sit on his lap. She fell asleep there, and eventually Eragon passed out from lack of blood circulation. They only awoke when a siren sounded throughout the mountain…
Yes, I am a huge Eagles fan, being from New Jersey. They will win eventually! THEY WILL!