I began my adventure in the office of my travel agent. He peered
at me over a towering stack of brochures.
“So you want to take a trip to a magical far away land? Well today’s you’re lucky day mister because I got a whole bunch exciting options!”
I took this moment to clarify my
budgetary situation with him.
The sound that escaped him was something stuck between a
snort a groan and a laugh. But the consummate professional that he was, he re-applied
that big fake movie star smile in a fraction of second.
“Well, that certainly simplifies
your travel options a bit,” he removed all the items from his desk except a
single slender volume. He opened it and thumbed to a map.
“Are you familiar with Fairy
Country?”
“Like the Land of Oz?” I asked
“Yes, exactly like Oz,
just a little…North of it, here.” He said pointing to a sliver on the map
wedged between the Kingdom of IX and the Land of EV. A miniscule asterisk in
that tiny sliver corresponded to a miniscule name on the bottom of the page: The Glorious Peoples Republic of Warblethorp.
And with that I was off, well almost, I spent about a ten
days in Kansas tracking down a tornado, no easy feat in January. It’s no wonder
tornado travel never went mainstream (as cost effective as it may be). Finally
I met with my vortex of adventure and was whisked away.
I landed in The Glorious Peoples Republic of Warblethorp relatively
intact with only a few cuts and bruises. I looked around the magical world I
found myself in. Lumpy blue plains that looked to be carved from blue
polystyrene stretched out before me. The ground made a creaking crackling sound
with every step I took. On one side loomed a giant wall made of what appeared
to be gingerbread, gumdrops and was topped with razor wire. The landscape was
fairly desolate save for a network of streams that flowed with a strange marmalade
colored liquid. The only plant life was a sparsely growing red shrub that
seemed to move without the wind, upon closer inspection the shrubbery was
actually made of hundreds of live conjoined crabs.
A little while later I met my guide, a curious creature with
the head of a seahorse festooned with purple polka dots, and the body of a
middle-aged truck driver. He spoke in a gravely baritone,
“So you’re the tourist eh? Welcome to The Glorious people’s
republic of Warberthorp, I’ll be your guide here, my name’s Larry, but
everybody calls me Spots”
“Hi Spots,” I said
“You wanna know why they call me
Spots?” Asked Spots,
“Isn’t it because of the spots
of you’re fa-“
“No,” he interrupted “No that’s
not it at all” he said getting a far away look in his eye.
Suddenly were approached by a
roving band of Scoodlers. They whooped and hollered, closing around Spots and I
in a ever-tightening circles. The leader of the mob dislodged his own head and
threw it at us with surprising enthusiasim. The Scoddler’s head hit Spots in
the stomach.
“Goddamned dirty Scoodlers”
exclaimed Spots. He picked up the cranial projectile and punted it over the currently
attached heads of the other Scoodlers. Then in a swift single motion Spots removed
the crossbow from his back with his right hand and produced a small fluffy ball
from his rucksack with the other. The ball was a creature with soft cottony
yellow fur, large watery black eyes and a set of giant buckteeth not unlike those
of a Beaver.
The creature squealed a bit as
Spots griped it harshly in his giant hand and secured it to his bowstring. He
pulled back on the string and let loose the shrieking cotton ball on our foes.
It’s giant teeth latched on to the stomach of a Scoodler. With a final defiant yelp
the tiny creature exploded, expelling a green liquid that sizzled and steamed
when it met with flesh. The unlucky Scoodler who got the brunt of the attack
fell on his back and began to writhe uncontrollably; he let out an agonized
scream. Those who were still able to run scattered in all directions.
“That looks like it hurts a lot”
I said
“Ah they’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” I asked, “that one’s
not moving anymore.” I observed feeling a bit guilty now.
“Yeah they’ll heal right up they have fairy magic or
whatever. Hey look over there! who’s that?” Exclaimed Spots brimming with forced
enthusiasm
A girl who couldn’t have been more than thirteen was running
toward us shouting like a maniac.
“Quick now we must return the Chalice of Veracity to the
Duke of Swazblat before the full moon!” She yelled but I couldn’t make out to whom.
“Poor girl’s lost her mind,” observed Spots
“You think she’s okay?” I asked
“Dunno”
She was so absorbed in her quest she nearly ran headfirst
into Spots.
“Oh excuse me Sirs, we are on a very important quest, my
name is Dorothy, this is Toto,” She said as she lifted the picnic basket she
was carrying to reveal a small black terrier; Toto took a brief respite from
licking his crotch to assess Spots and I.
“Ruff” asserted Toto.
“Yes, that man’s head
is a little peculiar, are you under
some kind of witches curse?” She asked Spots.
“Not that I know of.”
“How extraordinary.” Said Dorothy vacantly.
“Is this your Dad?” I asked pointing to a disheveled looking
man in his mid-fifties who was eyeing Dorothy rather suspiciously from behind.
“Why no silly man, this is Darrel the Drifter, I met him yesterday and now we are the best of
friends and we’re going on a wonderful adventure!”
“Is that what he told you?” I said
Darrel gave a wide toothless
smile and nodded
“Yes, and a most wonderful adventure it’s been” said Dorothy
fluttering her eyelids girlishly
The drifter smirked.
“So this drifter guy just started following you? You know
nothing else about this man?”
“Nothing except that he is the
keeper of the Chalice of Veracity and if we don’t return it in time-”
“Yeah, yeah the chalice… hey can
I talk to you?” I asked Dorothy,
“Why don’t be silly stranger,
you already are”
“I mean without Darrel for a
moment, it’s very important”
“Okay? Darrel my darling” she called out “would you be a
dear and fetch me one of those crabs from the bushes over there, I am
absolutely famished, we can have our picnic right here in this spot.”
“Of course m’lady” he said
jogging off to wrestle with the writhing red shrubbery.
“Dorothy I think you’re in danger, I don’t have a good
feeling about this Darrel guy, I think you should go home.”
She smiled widely,
“Oh no, no, no, you have me all wrong stranger, I know
Darrel is a strange transient with a sordid past. Why he’s just my type. We’re
dating! Although the magic of this land has bestowed on me this youthful exterior
I am actually very old, at least a hundred years in fact”
Darrel came back heavily scratched but smiling his big
toothless smile, a writhing clump of crabs clutched in one bleeding outstretched
hand.
Dorothy kissed the drifter on the cheek; the kiss felt like it lasted hours.
“Spots” I asked “can we please
get out of here, now”
Spots nodded emphatically.
“But don’t you want to stay for
lunch?” asked Dorothy,
“No thank you I had a big breakfast,” said Spots already
starting to hurry in the opposite direction.
“Huge” I said “A giant, disgusting breakfast, we really must
be on our way” I followed after Spots who was now sprinting into the horizon
with an agility not suited to his girth.
Out of breath we stumbled upon a wide red road, paved with
what appeared to be crushed crab shells. A large blue mountain loomed ominously
in the distance, it’s top was hidden in green clouds. As we walked we saw a large
hand painted sign that proclaimed “This Way to the Stump of Wisdom”. The D in
wisdom was backwards.
“I think you’re going to like this,” said Spots cheerfully
“it’s one of the most popular attractions in The DPRW”
As we followed the road a crowd started to gather by the
edge. They were oddly silent; their gaunt dirty faces stared unblinkingly at
me.
“This is the only road to the
stump” Said Spots, noting my unease.
To my surprise the group of onlookers suddenly spoke out in
unison “The Stump of Wisdom…” They all droned together.
“uhh” I said.
Judging by the tools they carried everyone in the crowd
appeared to be a farmer of some sort but their clothes were peculiar. Every man
woman and child was dressed in identical purple silk bathrobes.
“What’s with the bathrobes?” I
asked Spots.
To my surprise the crowd answered me before Spots had a
chance “they’re so comfortable why change?” they chanted, “Why change? Why
change? Why change?”
“So what make the Stump of Wisdom so special” I whispered
to Spots,
“We hear you,” the group droned,
“all praise The Stump, The Stump hears all”
A child in the group fell to his
knees and started to speak in tongues.
Spots cleared his throat “the
uhh, S-T-U-M-P of W-I-S-D-O-M”
“Most of us can spell!” chanted
the group
“Ah shit” mumbled Spots
“The Stump gives us wisdom!”
I made one final attempt to converse with Spots, carefully I
said barely above a whisper “Okay, so
what does this… uhh, you know, do… exactly, how does it work?
“Well once we travel to the um,
place… it gives you wisdom”
“Okay, I figured as much but how does it work?” I said
heartened slightly by the lack of audience participation thus far in our latest
conversation.
“Well” said Spots pensively stroking the area where a chin
would be on a seahorse head. He paused for a long time seeming to take uncharacteristic
care over the exact phrasing of his answer.
“You lick it,” He said finally.
“What?” I said so incredulous that I almost yelled it.
“You lick it and it gives you knowledge” replied Spots
calmly.
“So you’re telling me that everybody here’s been licking the
same stump?”
“Oh no.” said Spots.
The crowd murmured excitedly and started their drone again
with a renewed gusto:
“It’s not as gross as it sounds!”
they exclaimed,
“The stump is periodically cleansed in The Shower Stall of
Truth, all praise the cleansing water of the Stall! All Praise the Stall!” they
chanted in tandem.
As we followed the red road it started to get smaller and curvier.
To my relief the onlookers had gotten their fill of yelling at strangers for
the day and began to disperse back to their homes. The road got steeper and
even narrower yet; we spiraled slowly up the blue lumpy crags.
Panting and wheezing Spots and I eventually reached the peak.
The top of the mountain was surprisingly flat, as if a regular mountain had
been sheared off at the top. It was approaching evening and the clouds had all
but dispersed. For the first time on my trip The Glorious Peoples Republic of
Warblethorp the scenery actually looked vaguely scenic. The walled lands rolled
out beneath us in the golden late afternoon sunshine. In the haze I could make
out what must be Emperor Warblethorp’s castle, the only building for miles and
by far the largest in the region. Over the giant brown wall and the sparkling
razor wire I could see gleaming colorful lands stretched seemingly forever. For
the first time on my trip I was at peace.
“Hey man you got a light?” Spots interjected,
still panting from the climb
I shook my head,
“Alright” he said shakily bringing a cigarette to his lips
“I think I got one in here somewhere,” he said rummaging in his rucksack you go
on ahead, the stump’s over that way.”
I found a path of glittering purple emeralds and followed
the increasingly enthusiastic hand painted signs.
“This way to the Stump of Wisdom!”
“You’re soOOO close to the Stump of Wisdom!”
“Seriously it’s right over there can you believe it?”
“Just a few more steps
wow this is the best day of my life this is seriously why I got into sign
painting everything in my life has led up to this moment I wish my grand pappy
could see me now hey this is a really big sign soon I’m going to run out of
”
And I think the last one said
something like
“STUMPSTUMPYEAHSOEXCITEDSTUMPAMAZINGWOO…”
But the feverishly painted
letters were almost impossible to discern.
The emerald path stopped abruptly. A gnarled, grey tree
stump stood alone on a concrete dais. Not far behind was a ramshackle wooden lean-to
that appeared to have restrooms and a shower.
“Well here it goes I guess.” I
said to myself.
I carefully climbed the concrete slab and approached the
stump, I readied my tongue sticking it half out in anticipation and I took the
final couple steps toward the stump. Suddenly my legs were stopped by something
solid.
“Hey buddy watch it.” Said
someone, I looked around but I couldn’t find the speaker.
“Down here genius” Said the
voice again.
Sure enough I looked down and saw a small muscular elf like
creature standing cross-armed in front of my legs. The top of his head only
came up to the bottom of my knees. He was dressed completely in denim from his
pants to his unbuttoned jacket. He wore a necklace with a gold fist over his hairy
exposed chest.
“Whadayou think you’re doin’
mister?” Said the currently very disgruntled elf.
“Um, I guess I was going to go lick that stump over there”
As those words left my mouth I realized with horror that this could have all
been some kind of terrible joke.
“Is that right?” Said the little
strong man raising one eyebrow.
“Well anybody who wants to
partake in the Stump there hasta’ go through me.”
“Do you want me to solve a
riddle of something?” I asked
“You think you’re a funny guy eh? Ay we got a real comedian ‘ere!”
he yelled to the mostly empty mountaintop.
“Twenty bucks for three licks, a eighty for
ten” said the man flatly
“You know I kind of imagined
this place would be a little more impressive.” I said
“Impressive?” Responded the Elf incredulously “I’ll tell you
what’s impressive, full plumbing on top of a mountain.” He said gesturing to
the restrooms
“So how about it bud?”
“Uh, I guess I’ll do three” I said feeling oddly grimy but a
little excited too. I removed a bill from my wallet and handed it to the man.
“Alright champ here’s the deal, you approach the Stump
slowly and when you’re done you back away slowly. You do not cough on the stump;
you do not sneeze on the stump, no cuts or open soars near the stump, and licks
should last a maximum of two seconds, any more I have to charge you. Got all
that?”
“Yeah sure. Hey why aren’t you in one of those robes like
everybody else?” I asked the little man.
“Oh no I’m not with those
crazies, I just work here.”
With that the Elfling moved aside. I approached the stump
slowly, kneeled down and gave it a lick. It tasted like a dry old tree. Suddenly
I saw nothing, darkness then a flash of light, out of nothing a thought popped
into my head. A new thought that I had never thought before, out of nowhere
just like that. As it coalesced in my brain I started to feel it growing, I
began to understand.
Suddenly I blurted out; “The
Capitol of Nebraska is Lincoln”
“Two more.” Called out the elf
Well I that’s sort of interesting, I thought, I mean I didn’t know that before, I guess I
could have looked it up, but still… the stump must just be getting warmed up.
I mentally prepared myself for more wisdom; I bent in closer
to the stump and took another lick. Another flash more new thoughts:
Rhododendron beyerinckianum is a rhododendron species native
to Indonesia and western Papua New Guinea, extending as far east as Mount
Victoria and Mount Dayman, where it grows at altitudes of 1400-4000 meters. It
is a shrub that grows to 5 m in height, with leathery leaves that are narrowly
ovate, 6 x 3.5 cm in size. Flowers are tubular-funnel-shaped and usually dark
red, but also white, yellow, greenish or pink.
“One more.” Called the Elf
Still tentatively optimistic I took my final lick… Several
complete recipes for cornbread materialized in my mind.
“Well then.” I said
“Time’s up.” Said the Elf
I walked back to Spots in
silence.
“So…How was you’re first time?” asked Spots in-between puffs
of his cigarette. I shrugged.
“That Elf guy was kind of a
jerk.”
“What Elf?” Asked Spots
“You mean he’s not always
there?” I asked.
“I’ve never seen an Elf. Anyways,” he continued “We gotta’
go, I got something big planned for tonight” Said Spots “The Emperor is
expecting us for a royal reception and dinner.”
By the time we got off the mountain it was night. The
Emperor’s palace was a brilliant beacon of light and color in the grey blue darkness
of the countryside.
As we approached the
palace grounds Spots flashed some papers at a checkpoint manned by about a
dozen armed scarecrows. As we were waved through the gates I was instantly
overwhelmed by spectacle. The palace had the unique ostentatious charms
characteristic of an insane dictator. The palace grounds were resolutely indifferent
to the effects of night. Hundreds of giant spotlights made of diamond shone a
rainbow of brilliant shapes across the lavish tropical gardens. Peacock
giraffes, baboon sparrows and some kind of ambulatory sperm whale wandered
freely about the grounds.
“Wow.” I said
“A little kitsch for my taste”
said Spots,
Just then a rotund mechanical
man came over and greeted us.
“Gree-tings es-teemed comp-any
Em-por-or is expecting you, fo-low me.”
We followed the creaking robot up a grand stairway that
seemed to lead to the entrance of the palace. Where the door should have been
stood a giant silver visage of the emperor’s head. The robot knocked three
times on the nose, and the mouth of the statue opened sideways in a rather
unsettling fashion to reveal a golden door.
The room we entered into was surprisingly small; it reminded
me a lobby of a Holiday Inn that had been renovated by an overtly fascist interior
decorator. Sensing my confusion Spots turned to me and whispered,
“A few years ago Princess Ozma put economic sanctions on the
DPRW after she found out about some alleged Winkie trafficking by the Emperor.
When the resources dried up he wasn’t able to finish the interior.”
“Well-come to the grand ban-quet
hall” said the Robot.
He pushed open a set of doors to a grand but really not all
that stunning dining hall. The robot bowed squeakily, turned and left, leaving
us alone. It was dark, a startiling contrast from outside; the only light came
from a few candlelit chandeliers. The longer I stayed in the room the more I couldn’t
shake the feeling that we were being watched. Just as I was about to ask Spots to
go get the robot we were assaulted by a blast of royal trumpets. BAHBAHBAH!
They jeered.
Once I extricated my heart from my throat I regained my
composure and noticed a spotlight click on down the opposite end of the long
oak banquet table. The spotlight revealed a dark figure. I could make out a
curly mustache from his silhouette that matched the sculptures in the courtyard
and the giant head at the door of the palace.
Spots bowed deeply and I did the
same without even thinking.
“The Emperor is
pleased you could join him in his most celebrated domicile” boomed the Emperor;
“The Emperor so rarely has guests anymore”
I looked at Spots uneasily.
“Please weary travelers The
Emperor implores you to take a seat”
After the gallons of booze arrived the atmosphere in the
dining hall speedily improved. Soon we were all downright merry and acting like
old friends. After the drink, more drink, then food. Mountains of meat, bread and
an assortment of enchanted puddings. Succulent beasts and birds of all shapes
and sizes crossed my plate that night, most probably endangered but all
completely delicious. When the desert course came around I thought I could hear
the faint wails of my arteries calling out for mercy.
After we were all thoroughly gorged and laughing
uproariously at something I can’t recall, the Emperor got up on the table and
clanged a spoon on a crystal goblet as if to make a toast.
“Hear ye hear ye!” he slurred,
“Now I just wanna… You guys… can
I just say that…” he paused to take a long drink from his goblet,
“You guys are just the best and so… so pretty, ESSPECIALY YOU LITTLE MISSY,” he said
pointing to an empty seat next to Spots.
“Anyway,” he continued “Yknow when I invited you guys over I
was gonna trap you in the palace and hunt you for bloodsport-”
I sobered up instantly, Spots
choked on a spoonful of magical pudding.
“But now, I-dun-no maybe-I-need’t-find-more-constructov
hobblies yuhno? Fuk I sound like my ex-wife! Why’dshe have to take the kids?”
The Emperor erupted in an avalanche sobs.
“Hey now, hey guy, it’s okay” Said Spots gently patting the
chubby autocrat on the back.
“Excuse me, can I suggest
something?” I asked
“Of course lovely” responded the
Emperor sweetly “anything.”
“This evening was splendid and all but I think you would
feel a whole lot better if you let us go.”
“Let yooou go… hum-well, let me
just say I’m defernitley not gunna kill you-”
“Thank you!” chirped Spots,
“Whoever, that being said, cause we’re such all good friends
and such, I’d like to keep you guys locked in my palace forever.”
“Please Emperor” pleaded Spots,
The emperor began to laugh
manically,
“HahaHAhahahaHA! Friends forever HAHAHha! You can checkout
any time you like, but you can never leave! hahaHAHahahahaha!...”
Spots turned to me, “you got to get out of here! I’ll deal
with the Emperor, find the palace wizard he should be able to help you escape.”
As I bolted towards the door Spots ran up to the Emperor and
punched him in the stomach,
“Owie!” Whimpered the Emperor.
I slipped through the doors and ran down the nearest
corridor. I heard the rustling of scarecrow guards and the click of clips
loading into automatic rifles. I ducked into a dark doorway. I soon discovered
that the doorway was actually not a doorway but the entrance to a spiral
staircase. Through some miracle I impacted the stairs with every part of my
body but my face. Approximately twenty-seven flights later I laid on the cold
damp stone floor in what appeared to be a dungeon of some sort.
“Well hello there” said a shaky old voice “and who might you
be?” a knobby old man with a long white beard and pointy hat hobbled into view.
“You must be the Palace Wizard.”
I said
“Why yes I am! I’m Wizgum Great Wizard of Warblethorp” his
eyes darkened “a century ago the Warlblethorb clan put a curse on my family
that trapped me-“
“No time” I interjected “Can you
get me out of here?”
Wizgum sighed, “Ah well nobody
ever wants to listen to old Wizgum’s stories…”
“You sure you can’t stay for tea? My grandchildren haven’t
visited for over two-hundred years”
“Sorry, but I’m in grave danger
I really have to leave.”
“Fine, fine, I guess it’s just Wizgum and the wooden spoons
again tonight, poor old Wizgum…” he muttered “Follow me,” he sighed.
I followed him down a labyrinth of narrow twisting corridors
to a laboratory overflowing with bubbling beakers and shining, whirling
instruments. In the corner I also noticed a large pile of wooden spoons, each
with a different face drawn on with care.
Soon Wizgum procured a small
bowl of blue powder from the chaos of his laboratory.
“This should do the trick,” said
Wizgum holding out the bowl “Just give it a sniff”
“What is that?” I asked a little
skeptically.
“Why it’s magical fairy dust to get you home safe and sound”
chimed Wizgum whimsically.
“No seriously, what is that?”
Wizgum sighed, “It’s just
crushed up Ambien.”
“Oh, okay that works.”
I could make out the echoing of scarecrow footfalls nearby.
I took the bowl in two hands and took a magnificent snort.
The next thing I remember I was waking up in my warm bed, a
little achy, but safe and sound just as the wizard had said. I got up,
stretched and got dressed; I think I’m going to make some cornbread.
