Okay, so this is probably the most ridiculous thing I've written in my life. It's a product of pure boredom, a lack of effort, and utter craziness. If you're not prepared to be extremely weirded out, don't read it. There's nothing remotely inappropriate or disgusting about it, it's just very strange, that's all. You might be in for a bit of a laugh, but otherwise this is just plain stupid. Please, don't say you haven't been warned. My mind works in funny ways.

Man of the Woods

“Don't eat my honey, please!” the pathetic creature whimpered. It had long, lime green ears and was covered in a revolting, grimy fluff. Granger knew it was a monster by the name of Winnie the Puke, and so he snorted and whacked it on the head with an enormous mace. The creature splattered into tiny pieces of sludge that sprayed all over Granger's head and the rest of the forest.

Granger was a hunter, but not a very good one. He was huge and bulky, with a head that was too small for his body and a nose not unlike a troll's. His wiry hair was the colour of sand, and his skin was disgusting and puce, with a consistency approximating that of sand paper.

Granger had trained under the Master Algy Scunt, the most skilled hunter in the west. But Granger was nowhere near as skilled – while Scunt had been a particularly accomplished devourer of woodpecker faeces, Granger was only trained enough to hunt things much less significant. So Granger scouted the woods and stole honey from unsuspecting Winnies.

Winnies were helpless little creatures, so the tales told. But Granger knew them for what they really were – FREAKS! He knew that underneath the cloak of green fuzz and the wet pig snout, Winnies like Puke bore one razor sharp tooth and muscles like boulders. Only, Granger found that he could defeat them quite easily if he only tried.

After murdering Puke, Granger slung his mace over his shoulder and it plunged into his back, leaving a nasty, bloody hole in his skin and staining his hot pink flamingo feather vest. He took no notice of this and grunted while he continued through the thicket of trees.

It wasn't long until Granger reached another clearing in the woods and caught sight of a Winnie perched on one of the lower branches of an oak tree. The Winnie was singing to itself: “If only I had a toothpick,” as it drove its little paw into a smashed jar of honey. The Winnie's hand emerged, covered in blood and splinters of glass. It looked at its injured palm, bottom lip quivering, and suddenly burst into tears.

Granger growled and advanced on the Winnie with a manic smile on his ugly face. He yanked the mace out of his back and prepared to swing. But suddenly, before he could attack, the ground underneath his talons slipped away and he fell into nothingness. Granger fell for a year and a half, sleeping most of the way. Finally, in the year 1842, Granger hit the ground.

Now, Granger wasn't very clever. He looked around him and saw a wooden door in the dirt walls, lit by the faint glow of a torch suspended just a little above. The door was marked “Abattoir of Granger,” and because he saw his name written on it, he gave a little yelp of delight and blundered through. This was a dreadfully stupid thing to do.

As soon as Granger passed through the door, it slammed behind him, and he looked around, confused. Surrounding him completely were lots and lots of Winnies, menacing green fuzzballs under the sinister lighting. Granger shrieked, realizing that he was surrounded by his enemy. He prepared his mace, but when he tried to swing it, he saw that it had turned into an orange water balloon. Before he could pull it back, one of the Winnies used a peashooter to send a dart at flying at it and the balloon popped.

“Ugg,” Granger said in horror. He swiftly put his hands up in defeat. One of the Winnies let out a high-pitched, gurgling laugh.

“We bringed Granger here today,” it said stupidly. “To die it. Any objunctions?”

The creatures wailed manically and banged their fists against the rocks in anticipation. Granger gulped loudly.

“Ye stoled hunny from Winnies for too long!” one of them exclaimed furiously.

Just then, there was a noise from above and something fell into the room. Something alive. It stood up and dusted itself off before Granger got a good look at it. He grimaced at the sight of it. The thing was similar to a stick figure, pure white in colour with no features. It addressed Granger in a hissing voice that sounded like paper being violently torn.

“Granger,” it said. “I am the Man of the Woods. Come.”

Granger bumbled dumbly forward, and the creature took his hand. Suddenly, they soared into the air, leaving the cave full of Winnies far below them. Granger expelled a booming giggle of elation as he realized that he had been saved.

“Dank youg,” he told the thing. It chuckled.

“No, thank thou,” it said, but without warning, the Man of the Woods suddenly stopped dead in the air. Something had pierced into his shapeless head, from which inky black blood now spurted. Granger recognized the thing in his head as a dart from one of the Winnies' peashooters. Granger yelled out in exasperation as his huge, calloused hand slipped from the man's white ones and he plummeted towards his doom.

Granger fell and fell, terrified as he awaited his death. The last thing he heard was the screeches of the Winnies echoing through the cavern walls, before they gracelessly devoured him.

As I said, it's just plain ridiculous. Leave me a review to tell me what you think. If you're going to tell me how twisted my mind is and refer me to an asylum, that's alright. I just appreciate any feedback.

- Sam :)