tim-writes-a-lot

[tim-writes-a-lot]

The Battle Of A Lifetime!

The Plastic Knight was drenched in sweat from head to toe. He had been in an intense battle for nearly an hour now. If he did not make a bold move soon, the opportunity for victory would slip away. He swiped furiously at the enemy, finally driving it towards the exit. He had driven his foe back to this point again and again over the hour, but could never take advantage of getting the upper hand. One more try...

With a final giant heave of Butterknife he swiped at his stubborn adversary. Fully spent, the Polystyrene Pugilist dropped to his knees. He glanced up knowing his more-than-worthy rival would yet remain undefeated and unhindered in any way.

It was at this point the door swung open. The Lady Sarah watched a wasp fly out of the door quickly as she stepped inside. Looking down she sees Sir Tim, spent and defeated, kneeling and dripping beads of sweat upon the tiled floor.

“I tried so hard, I did this for you, fair Lady, for you!” said the overly-dramatic spork of a man.

“Tim, did a wasp just get the best of you?” said the head-shaking beauty as she tried not to giggle.

“I had the evil winged bastard cornered before you opened the door.” said Tim as he shrugged his defeated shoulders and wondered to himself whether he should crawl under the table close by.

“Always the Brave Sir Tim,” said the Lady Sarah, and then she patted the Knight upon his head, not quite knowing what else to do.

Sir Tim felt his face turning red as he stumbled awkwardly up into a standing position and tried to act cool. He failed on the last part, there was no way to look cool while leaning over the table and breathing heavy. How long was it going to take to recover from the battle with the wasp?

“So, does this mean dinner is going to be a bit late this evening, my Good Sir?”

Still trying to catch his breath, he whispered back “No, no, it's simmering on the stove and is ready, my Lady, just give me a moment, please.”

An hour later, and after a dinner that went much better than the battle with the wasp, The Knight of Plastic bid a fond farewell to the Lovely Lady.

With exchanged smiles and spoken plans to do this again soon, the two departed for the evening. Lady Sarah riding off to the Potato Prairie, and Sir Tim remaining in the Acrylic Fields.

He really enjoyed every moment of time he had with the fair Lady, and hoped he would have more again soon.

He yelled one last “Good evening, Sweet Lady!” as she waved back and then rode over the crest of a small rise and then downward into the Valley of Spoons that led to the Potato Lands.

As the happy and content Sir Tim closed the door of his cabin, he did not notice the wasp flying back inside. This may well be an interesting night for the Knight!

[tim-writes-a-lot]

The Giant Slugs

The not so smart Knight of all things Plastic was walking through the PVC Pipe forest, looking for a special kind of bush. He walked into a clearing and found himself at the back end of a box canyon. But before him, in all their glory, were three pancake bushes, ripe and ready to be picked. And this must be his lucky day because a syrup spring was dripping forth from the back wall of the canyon.

The excited Knight picked a pack of pancakes and cupped some cups of syrup and just finished loading up his pack. The fairest of all Ladies would be having a special breakfast tomorrow morning.

In his excitement the inattentive Knight did not at first notice the creatures encircling him. He finally saw from the corner of his eye a giant slug. Once he turned around he noticed there were three of them. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. With one slightly shaking hand he pulled his polystyrene shield from his back and held it fast in front of his body. The other hand was pulling Butterknife from its sheath. He thought to himself - “These slow moving bastards will not get the best of me!”

It was at that moment the slugs launched acid spray at him. He ducked and held his shield to block the foul liquid. Once the creatures acid blasts subsided he stood up, and began to let loose a hearty laugh, but his shield melted away before he could muster anything more than a whimper. He began backing up as the giant slugs crept their slimy selves towards him.

Back and back he moved, quite upset that he was cornered in the canyon. He didn't even have his trusty steed, Polystyrene, with him. How dumb was this moment? This was not one of those times where he could humor his way out of a situation. With the slugs acid eating through plastic the way it did, he also had no defense or anyway to attack these foul things. He wondered how long it took them to recharge their acid attacks. As his body backed into the wall of the canyon he knew he was finished. His thoughts drifted to the Lady and how he wished more than anything he could see her one more time before he experienced what was certain to be a horrifying death.

As the slugs sharp teeth and slime covered bodies began to traverse the last bit of distance to their next meal, he saw a robed figure step into the clearing from the PVC Pipe forest. There was no wind to be had in that canyon, yet the robes of the figure appeared to flow and move. Whoever was within the robes seemed to be glowing. His eyes were momentarily blinded before he could get a longer look at this person. Lightning bolts seemed to emanate from their hands as two of the giant slugs were obliterated. Another round of lightning and the third slug met its end as well.

The puzzled plastic paladin blinked his eyes until they began to clear. The robed figure stood before him. They pulled their hood back to reveal themselves. Flowing black hair? Warm and caring eyes? Lush, full lips? A lady of spectacular beauty stood before him. Now he was even more confused. He muttered “La-La-dy, Lady Sarah? I, uh, what?”

“Good Sir Tim, you didn't think you were the only brave soul in these parts, did you? Come along now, and don't forget your pack. I do want those pancakes.” She flashed a smile that damn near melted the rest of everything plastic the shocked Knight had in his possession. He realized his mouth was hanging open in a most awkward and confused and not very handsome way.

As they exited the canyon through the pipe forest they came upon where Polystyrene was hitched.

At a total loss for words, the Knight in Plastic Armor handed the pack of pancakes to the fair Lady.

“Tonight, good Sir Tim, I will guard the Potato Prairie and also make sure nothing foul or nasty enters your Plastic Lands. You look like you need some rest.”

“Yeah... I... yes, I imagine I do need a bit of that... I, I'm...what I mean... is... ummm... thank you! And... please Most Brave Lady Sarah, have a wonderful evening and weekend with the people in the Potato Prairie. I do hope to enjoy your company again soon.”

[tim-writes-a-lot]

The Green Knight Arrives

There was a chill hanging in the air along the Potato Prairie. The Knight of Plastic pulled the pot from the fire in front of him and filled a cup. After stirring it he looked across the fire and said “My Lady, would you like marshmallows in your hot chocolate?”

She nodded her head “yes” while pulling her scarf a bit tighter. “Thank you,” she says as she takes the offered cup of sweet chocolate warmth and takes a quick sip. “If you keep treating me this way...” she begins to say as there is a sudden rumble coming through the brush.

The Knight of Plastic jumped up to his feet. (a move that he would certainly feel in his back later when the soreness kicked in), He quickly unsheathed his trusty sword that he called the “butterknife.” And just in time too, because the Green Knight was already swinging for his head as the wide-eyed petrified plastic warrior parried the blow and also nearly soiled himself.

The Green Knight yelled loudly “Stand aside you pathetic plastic punk! On this day she dies! The Potato Kingdom is mine!”

A bolt of braveness shot through our plastic protagonist, a wave of anger as well. With one giant swing he brought the butterknife down upon the Green Knight. The attacker's sword shattered and fell to the ground. Blood dripped from a slice upon his hand. “You did not! You can not!” yelled the now-shocked Knight.

“I did, and you didn't! And you will cease breathing if you don't take your Green self out of these lands now!”

Reluctantly the Green Knight turned and fled, yelling from a distance about revenge and the Lady will be mine and various other nonsense. The Plastic Knight turned to the Lady and said “Is the hot chocolate good?”

“Yes, yes it is, but what... what about... what just happened?” said the slightly confused Bringer of Everyday Sunshine.

“Don't think a thing of it my Lady, I will stand guard this evening. Do not fear. Go and enjoy yourself, get some peaceful rest. No foul deeds will fall upon you this night, nor the next. I may not believe the nice things you say about me, but that doesn't stop me from feeling good when I hear them. I'd rather keep you around than let some foul Knight bring his wrath upon your lands. Do take care, it has been an honor, as always, to share this time with you, Utsukushī jagaimo.”

[tim-writes-a-lot]

Oh No! Nalfeshnee!

The hapless bard walked slowly through the forest, a mighty plastic long sword gripped tightly in his sweaty hands. Hey, what did you expect? He usually just carried the weapon for show.

Why was he so nervous? This hero thing can't be so hard, thought the bard-turned-sellsword. Besides, how bad could a Nalfeshnee be? Such a garbled name must come from a fairly weak creature.

But this beast had attacked a small group of travelers on the nearby trail. So when the cute barmaid at the ale house had twirled a finger in her hair and tilted her head just so, he couldn't help but say yes to whatever she asked. In this case it was to go take care of whatever had tormented and apparently even killed several unfortunate wanderers. Besides, after two weeks of performing at this bar he needed something new to bring a bit of excitement to his life.

After a half hour of walking back and forth from the trail and through the forest all that he had found so far was boredom. This Nalfeshnee thing must have seen him coming and became scared and ran off. He aimlessly stepped into a forest clearing for the fourth time already today.

Maybe I'll work on my new song a bit more while I waste my time...

"I woke up one fine mornin'

And what did I see?

That cute little barmaid

Was sleepin' with me.

I had courted her with poems

I flirted and she laughed

I sang her a sweet tune

And then made a slick pass

Took her back to my place

She was a ball of fire in bed

Made my mind go a reelin'

She gave the best...HOLY SHIT!"

He was not sure if he sang the words "holy shit." He was dead certain that it wasn't the lyric he had intended to sing. He was also sure it didn't matter much right now. He was also pretty sure he now knew what a Nalfeshnee looked like. Especially since it stood snarling before him. He was not sure at all whether he had soiled his pants, but the odds that it had actually happened were currently running down his leg.

What stood before him was best described as a cross between an ogre and a wild boar but with wings that seemed way-too-small to be useful on its back. It was drooling worse than the seamstress he had taken to bed a few months back in the village of Charcoal Cross. It was also much uglier than the local he assumed was not fully human that he had slept with while passing through the town of Mossy Oak three weeks ago. In other words, even a bard with such questionable standards would not have slept with a Nalfeshnee. It was just gross. Oh, and very angry, we can not forget the angry part.

He held up his plastic sword, which strangely enough, looked like a large butter knife. The demon standing before him almost looked happy to see the bard try to defend himself. It swung a powerful clawed hand and shattered the blade instantly, sending bits of white plastic flying everywhere. A hoofed leg then kicked the helpless pretend-sellsword to the ground. Was it laughing at him or does this freaking thing just sound like this when it breathes?

What the bard thought were his final thoughts began running through his head. Why did he let the cute barmaid talk him into such a quest? Well, because she was a lot better looking than the people that usually enjoyed his talents as he skipped from town to town bringing laughter, catchy rhymes and really way-out-of-key singing. Maybe she was not all that she seemed, could it have been a spell, or some potion? He should have suspected as much, no one that pretty usually talked to him, not even after his best performances. His next thought was that maybe he should have stuck with what he was good at, or at least halfway decent at... or maybe just acceptable at... but you know what he means, right? Fighting an angry Nalfeshnee wasn't exactly in his upper skill set, entertaining townsfolk that were rarely sober, that was more in his comfort zone.

He looked up and watched the beast open its pointy-sharp-toothed jaws wide and swing its clawed hand back for another swipe. The air around him seemed to begin crackling. A bright flash caused him to close his eyes. He thought: Is this what happens when you die? But he then heard a sound from the Nalfeshnee that was more one of surprise than crazed anger.

He opened his eyes to see the beast writhing in pain, then out of the corner of the bard's eye he saw her. She was glorious. Dark flowing hair that seemed to twinkle as if it was made of strings of black opals. Soft dark skin, how was it glowing? Was she glowing? Is this an angel, come to save me? Her ears were pointed and jutting through the black opal hair on either side of her head. Her flowing outfit concealed much of her form, but the stunned bard knew he would never see anything more beautiful in his entire life. How much of that life was left, he wasn't sure of. He let his eyes close again as the sounds of a very one-sided battle ripped through the forest clearing.

Minutes later? Hours later? Lifetimes later? He didn't know, he just felt a soft hand on his cheek and heard a voice. He slowly opened his eyes and saw her leaning over him. He croaked out a few words “My angel, my savior...”

“Oh, shut up, you silly fool, I'm no angel, you should see me in a library.” She seemed to laugh at some sort of inside joke before speaking to him again. “Consider yourself lucky I could not only hear, but could also smell that foul wretched beast from the nearby trail. Otherwise you may have become that demon's lunch.”

He kept staring at his savior and mumbling “Angel, you are... saved me... thank... the goddess Meilikki herself has protected me... so beautiful...you are...”

“Goddess may be right, but the name is Zelpha. And you are crazy, and most-likely have a concussion, not to mention various other bruises and lacerations. I will get my mount and get you to a village for care and rest. Please don't play the hero again. The next time you may not be so lucky.”

The banged-up bard continued to babble about the pretty dark angel elf that lit up the sky with fire. Finally, after about the twentieth time he thanked her and said she was beautiful, she glanced around quickly to make sure no one was watching and then cast a Silence spell on the deranged adventurer. “That's much better,” she said and went about the business of getting this half broken man to a village.

He woke up in a soft bed at the inn of the next village along the trail. He had been dreaming of fireballs and pretty elves and foul smelling demons. He opened his eyes for the first time in three days only to be disappointed. The old motherly face of the inn keeper glanced back. Oh how he wanted to see another face, a prettier face... a... “Glad to see you finally awake, good Sir. The lady that dropped you off left a few coins and dealt me a good bit of persuasion to see to your recovery. Rest up, lad, you are safe now.”

Several weeks later he found himself in a country pub, performing and entertaining and bringing laughs to the townsfolk. Had he learned a lesson? I would say so. He sung his latest song to the sparse crowd. Laughter, at his own expense, but hey, it was a living, which is much better than a dying!

“One fine spring day

I ventured into the woods

It was time to be a hero

To deliver the goods

But a demon arrived

Put me in a fear-filled trance

Broke my favorite sword

And made me piss my pants

But a goddess came along

Cast spell after spell

Knocked out the demon

And sent him back to hell

She was glorious and pretty

Saving my soul and my life

I just wish I could thank her

And sing this song to her some night!”

As applause and laughter rose from the crowd, he spied at the back of the pub a figure so out of place he could not miss it. It was her... she still looked like she was glowing to him, but he also noticed she was laughing. She was laughing!

By the time he got to the back of the pub she was gone. At least he felt like, in his own strange way, he was finally able to thank her, even if it was with a silly song.