Bread & Butter

            “The first woozel to get the Purple Beguzzle will be crowned champion of all the enchanted Woozel of the fair and black woods of Eldar,” said the wizened High Grasshopper, Menenga. 

           

            The Woozels gathered at the foot of Ant Hide hill at the feet of the wise and powerful High Grasshopper Menenga. They each hoped that this would be their year to obtain the adoration of the other Woozel’s by completing the trials and hold the Purple Beguzzle close to their chests. 

            “I’m going to do it this year,” said Hickfar

            “You say that every year,” replied Cagnee

            “This time, for sure. I’ve been really working out. Feel my muscles,” said Hickfar.

            “Dude, don’t be weird. I’m not touching your muscles,” said Cagnee.

            “Don’t be afraid. They won’t crush you, too hard,” smiled Hickfar.

            A Plesnucket sounded, announcing the arrival of Lord High Valmordica, King of the Woozel’s and bearer of the sacred crest of Eldar. All the Woozels stood at attention as his chariot of octane horsemobilius pulled him toward the thrown above Ant Hide Hill. It would be the Lord High’s duty to start the hunt for the Purple Beguzzle by banging the ceremonial headless corpse of the most recently executed prisoner against the water bell of Algar. Algar of course being the former and now defeated enemy of the Woozels.

            “I’m so freaking excited to get this thing started,” said Hickfar.

            “Dude, you have to relax. If you get too excited you’ll explode,” said Cagnee.

            “That’s just a myth. No one is going to explode from excitement,” said Hickfar.

            Hickfar wiped the small beads of sweat from his forehead as Cagnee lit a smoke stick.

            “The purple beguzzle will be mine. I’ll put in on my mantle so me and all the hot babes can look at it while we do it in front of the fireplace,” said Hickfar.

            “Dude? The babes? You’re not going to get any babes. All that Purple Beguzzle is, what it really is, is a tool to keep all of us in line. Every year they trot us all out here like our whole lives are just meant for this one moment. It’s cowfernicus crap and you know it,” said Cagnee.

           

            The Plesnucket sounded again as the Lord High Valmordica took his seat on the thrown of the Vanquished and the crowd cheered. He mildly waved at the people and yawned slightly. His Princess, his Queen, the beloved Saramay, took her seat next to the Lord High and waved to the masses of Woozels. They immediately went crazy for her. They cheered and yelled and threw the pink petals of the marcar flower at her feet.

            “Oh my god she’s hot,” said Hickfar.

            “Pssht, like you’d have a shot,” said Cagnee.

            “If I win the PurpleBbeguzzle I will totally have a shot with her. I’ll just have to eliminate the Lord High and sidle up next to her. I’ve got some pretty smooth moves,” said Hickfar.

            “Smooth moves? You once crapped yourself in high school when Stalicy, captain of the cheer squad accidentally touched your arm as you passed each other in the hall. You don’t have a chance,” said Cagnee.

            “Seriously, dude, why are you crapping on everything I’m saying? Can’t you just be positive for one second,” asked Hickfar.

            The High Grasshopper Menega quieted the crowd and started explaining the hallowed and sacred rules for obtaining the Purple Beguzzle. Then he moved on to the part that gave every Woozel a tingle up their spine. It was a speech every Woozel knew since their hatching time.

           

            “Those worthy of honor, worthy of the heavy weight of pride, shall therefore seek the majestic Purple Beguzzle. It’s pulsing power will fill their eyes with the hope for a new harvest moon and invigorate the constant unwavering spirit of all Woozel kind,” said the High Grasshopper Menega.

            The crowd closed the incantation with the usual, ‘Hiwatcha’.

            “I love when he does that,” said Hickfar.

            “I wish this day was over already,” said Cagnee.

            The Woozels moved to the start squares drawn in the dirt along the bottom of Ant Hide Hill. There was room enough for eight woozels in each square. They took their starting positions as the Menenga watched the sun move across the sky. It had to reach its optimal apex for the official start of the hunt.

            Hickfar was in a crouched position, licking his lips in anticipation. Cagnee was just standing next to him, watching Menega perform the swaying ritual.

            The Lord High Valmordica hoisted the headless corpse and on the signal from the High Grasshopper he tossed it into the water bell of Algar. Hickfar took off like a lightening bolt as Cagnee sort of started walking while the rest of the Woozels took off in a mad rush into the black enchanted woods of Eldar. Hickfar looked back over his shoulder.

            “Come on Cagnee! I’m not going to win this alone!”

            “Whatever,” said Cagnee and he sprinted to catch up with Hickfar.

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            This is what I write when I can’t quite come up with anything profound. I wonder if Hickfar will win the Purple Beguzzle? I hope he knows that all that beguzzles, isn’t purple. And what of Cagnee, will his apathy get the best of him? It’s the sort of story that always floats around in my head. Imagine if it was my bread and butter though. Pretty cool right?