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.

6. Chapter 5: A Pelican's Tale

Chapter 5

"A Pelican's Tale"

Hans and Franz entered into a vast space with a central, enclosed dome, housing an incredible variety of birds. Visitors stood, with their noses pressed against the glass, watching the zoo employee in the center.

On his shoulder, sat an exquisite bird, with bright feathers of various colors. It practically sparkled in the sunlight, emitting a radiant glow upon the surrounding area. "That," Hans gasped, "Is not a pelican."

"Hello," said Beaky, casually. She spoke with a slight English accent. The crowd erupted into cheers. "Thank you all for coming here today," she said, "As you all know, my name is Beaky the Pelican... though of course, you know, I am not a pelican. My species is called, 'Gavia Specifiocactilamicustus, and I am known to be the last of my kind." The crowd cheered once again, fascinated at the bird's intelligence.

"Franz!" Hans whispered sharply, "It's him! The guy with the camera! I think he's locked onto us…" "Stay calm," whispered Franz, "We can't leave. If we do that, he'll have conformation. I don't understand. Who could possibly be against our mission? It's for the good of strudel variety!"

Hans pondered this thought. Why would anyone be inclined to stop them? There had to be a reason. They could be in danger…

Beaky continued, weaving an intricate, autobiographical tale of her life on her home island and her intrepid travels. The crowd was listening intently. "..and so, the island was corrupted," she said, woefully, "Evil overshadowed all the good that had been created by the resident strudel…" "Wait a minute," said Franz, "Did she say... 'Strudel?'"

Hans met Franz's eyes, but their pursuer was now advancing. Franz grabbed his friend's arm, steering them both toward the exit. They walked as quickly as possible, attempting to avoid the appalled gazes of audience members, who seemed to be wondering why anyone would want to leave at such a critical point in Beaky's speech. The man with the camera was not far behind. He pushed aggressively through the crowd, eyes locked onto his targets.

The two friends finally reached the outside. "Okay," Franz panted, "I think we've lost-" The rest was darkness.