Hans and Franz and the Journey to the Magical Strudel Lord's Treasury

by UltramarineGrammarQueen

Once upon a time, in a middle school far, far away, there were two boys by the names of Hans and Franz. Passionate lovers of strudel, the teenagers embark upon a journey to uphold the good of variety in their favorite pastry. Perhaps, though, strudel is not the purpose at stake. After all, the intelligence of a certain egotistical teen should never be underestimated.

2. Chapter 1: Strudels (or Lack Thereof)

Chapter 1

"Mourning the New Strudels (or Lack Thereof)"

Franz traipsed into the school cafeteria, hanging his head in shame. For the first time since the arrangement had been proposed, he had brought the same strudel twice. It was a difficult thought to bear, that they were running out of strudel flavors. As soon as he saw Hans, he was unable to contain the grief any longer. He collapsed onto the chair next to him and sobbed.

Hans moved to comfort him, but noticed the box which sat upon the table next to Franz. Tentatively, he lifted the top, finding an extravagantly prepared strudel inside. "I'm sorry!" Franz wailed, "It's the same! It's just a plain old apple strudel!" Hans fingered his own strudel, which sat on a plate in front of him. "Mine is just watermelon," he told Franz, "There aren't any toppings...or anything. You shouldn't be sorry. I should." "Toppings do not constitute a new strudel!" Franz yelled. "We need solutions," said Hans, tears brimming in his eyes, "or we may never taste a new strudel again." He began to sob along with Franz.

The sight of the sobbing friends did not cease to attract attention. Sven Strudelmeyer, an acquaintance of Hans and Franz, was no exception. He strode over to their table. "What seems to be the problem, boys?" asked Sven, smirking as he did. "STRUDEL!" wailed Franz, loudly, attracting even more attention from the students. He collapsed back onto the table, shaking with sobs.

"Well," Sven began, sensing an opportunity, "I do have quite a bit of information on this matter. Perhaps I can be of service?" Both Hans and Franz looked attentively up at him. "Of course," he continued, "I would have to sell you such information...but my prices are low. I'm certain you'll find them satisfactory!" Sven took a seat at the table. "We'll do anything!" cried a very desperate Franz. Sven smirked. "Anything?" he asked, just to be sure. "Anything," Franz responded.