Dancing Pixies of Doom
Disclaimer: For once, I actually own everything! Well, except for Harry Potter, but who cares?
It's not like I'm publishing this for money! Just out of the kindness of my heart!
BUWAHAHAHA! (::stupid idiot dance::)
Just a little thing I wrote for one of my friends as a Christmas present.
It had some pretty wicked graphics, but they disappeared just like the ones for The Kurt Chronicles! (::weep::)
It was a dark, dreary day. Keyla stared out the window of the high tower. Her evil stepmother, the Duchess of Prigmanticonajoordinia, had told her to go up there to study algebra. Keyla, however, had conveniently picked up Harry Potter instead. (Both books weighed about the same anyway.) For three hours she read blissfully by the fire, sipping pumpkin juice and biting great chunks of fudge.
Now, however, she was done with the Goblet of Fire for the 21st time, and had nothing to do. The high tower had nothing but dusty books on folklore, which were exceedingly boring and smelled pretty gross, too. But as there was absolutely nothing else to do, she walked over the stone floor to the huge bookcase. She ran her fingers over the titles. A Historie on the Foulklor and Lejends ov Lohwer Ligmantou. Where was Ligmantou? Flying with the Barbeznies: an account of one wizard's expedition to the Greckian Plains. Ick . . .
She spent several minutes looking at all the absurdly boring titles. Each one was either misspelled or had mold growing on it. She eventually got down on her knees to look at some of the lower shelves. These were even worse. Titles like How to Raise Your Very Own Miniature Flea! and Enchanted Soap.
Quite suddenly, she came upon a bright pink book. It's golden lettering spelled out the words Open Me Up, You Great Dork!
Well, that's pleasant! Yeah, right. HURRY UP! Keyla stared. The title had changed! She didn't understand how. She never even saw it. It just switched! Okay, Enough with the Mind-boggling Observations. OPEN—ME—UP! Okay, okay. . .
She pulled the book off the shelf with some difficulty. It looked small, but it was extremely heavy. It must have been 20 pounds at least. She put in her lap, which was strenuous, owing to the fact that her stepmother made her wear layers and layers of silk petticoats. She pushed the folds out of the way, but they still kept obscuring the book. The cover now read, along with a sneering pink fairy, COME ON, You Big Oaf!
"I'm going! I'm going!" Keyla muttered impatiently. She decided just to put in on the table. She hauled it onto the wood surface with a grunt, and sat down on the threadbare cushion of the battered pine chair. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and inspected the cover, on which the title had disappeared. The sneering pink fairy was now combing it's long pink hair with a gold comb. It seemed to be showing off. It shot a particularly nasty glare at Keyla, and shouted in a squeaky voice, "I HAVE NOT GOT ALL DAY! OPEN ME UP!" Keyla rolled her eyes. This was one very temperamental book. She opened the cover, and found a bright green fairy with short, spiky hair and bee wings scowling at her from her two-dimensional tree branch. It looked like a fairy version of a punk rocker.
"I am not a fairy! I'm a pixie! Get it right!" The pixie floated up off her branch, and looked Keyla over patronizingly. "You're quite ugly, but I suppose I can't ask for everything. I'm Ivy, Poison Ivy. I'll call you Specs." Ivy sneered at Keyla's glasses. Keyla protested at this, but the pixie interrupted. "I'm going to be your tour guide, and I'll have you know, I'll not be enjoying it. If you so much as complain about the smell of the ink, I will jinx you. You got it?" Keyla nodded silently, wondering what she had gotten herself into.
Ivy flew off the page. "Hey!" Keyla said indignantly. Ivy's head popped back onto the page. "Well, I can't do everything! Turn the page, dimwit!" Ivy cried before flying off again. Grumbling, Keyla turned the page.
Filling the whole spread was a deep red theater curtain. She could hear the mumbles of the audience and the tuning of the orchestra. Ivy fluttered near the border of the scene. She tapped her foot in the air, and examined her black fingernails. Keyla started to ask what was going on, but Ivy gave her another scowl and hissed at her to shut her trap.
A moment later, the audience hushed, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra began a few slow notes. Keyla leaned closer to see the curtains parting. An elaborate backdrop appeared. Slowly, in time to the music, a banner came down. It said:
Dancing Pixies of Doom
"Oh no," said Keyla.
The music began to get faster. Neon colored lights zoomed across the stage. A lightning bolt sliced across the weird backdrop. The zooming lights zoomed faster. And, abruptly, it stopped. Everything was completely dark. Then, a whiny voice came out of the darkness.
"Oh, I really hate this job,
as you well can see,
so I'm going to ruin this song,
and make it fun for me!"
The stage started to lighten, and the same pink pixie from the cover was floating in the center. In it's arms, it held what looked remarkably like, well, bright pink tomatoes. "Uh-oh."
"First I'll take one of these
delightful rotten fruits,
and fling it at that man
in the dreadful yellow suit."
It threw one of the tomatoes at someone in the audience, who yelled a very angry word indeed. Ivy was looking at the pink pixie in disbelief, but she was obviously trying to hold back a laugh. The pink pixie continued to fling tomatoes at people in the audience, singing all the while about the various hairstyles and clothing they were wearing. Then, once it was done, it looked Keyla in the eye. "Ah hah! You! Here, why don't you have this!" It summoned someone backstage, and no less than a dozen pixies in various colors trooped onto the stage, all carrying an enormous rainbow-colored tomato. "I'm sure this will look lovely with your hair!" They began to heave it into a catapult. Keyla stared at it. Could it actually leave the page? She didn't really want to find out. She glanced at Ivy, but she was fluttering around the pink pixie's ear, a devilish grin on her face. Oh no, she thought, she's conspiring against me! The pink pixie began to shout the countdown. Keyla debated against shutting the book. This was interesting, in it's own way, if you liked being insulted and having rotten fruit thrown at you. . .
At the very last moment, just as the tomato was leaving its catapult, Keyla slammed the book shut. She heard a large SPLAT. The cover had a large splotchy imprint on it where the pink pixie should have been. The title read No Fair! Open Me Up NOW!!! Keyla could hear muffled threats and shouts from inside the book.
"Oh, stuff it." And with that, she shoved the book into the trash can.
Author's Note: Ah, yes, that was quite wonderful. It looked a lot better with the pictures, but anywho . . .