Journey to…the Mysterious Island – BardHaven’s Story Part 4

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They were well hidden along the treeline, gathered in small groups and staring down at the white sand beach from the hilltops. The great ship was odd enough when they first saw it’s massive masts in the distance. However, then it was just an amusing curiosity…much like when Lawrence sneezed during elevenses and sucked an entire papaya through his nose. Now, for that same ship to suddenly ram the shore with a hideous snapping noise and start spitting things onto the beach…well that had required sending for their Chief.

He stood there in brooding silence, watching the overdressed chimps down on the sand unloading strange toys from the ship while they maneuvered around one another. Several females were there, seeming to alternate back and forth between trying to get the males to mate with them, and trying to get the males to leave them alone. One of the males only played with a big blue box while an angel held an umbrella over his head. Another, younger male kept bringing drinks to a flame haired child and staring longingly into the jungle as if he were desperate to go explore. The third male had stretched out on a piece of driftwood and apparently gone to sleep while the others labored, wrapped in a black fur cloak…but something about him seemed watchful or just neurotic. Meanwhile, the Chief knew that in the distance the Fuzzysporkhoppyhoppy hungered as well. Time was short.

Finally, Chief Templeton of the Itchysporkchowchow turned away from the beach and looked at his warriors gravely.

“Go tell Giuseppe to fire up the hibachis. Dinner has been delivered.”

The warriors followed Templeton in almost reverential silence as he road his coconut shell Vespa a little closer to the interlopers, still keeping well out of sight. By the time he was close enough to hear their pigeon speak, there were nearly a thousand Itchysporkchowchow warriors, hunters and lawyers gathered around the beach, cleverly hidden by pretending to be trees, sandcrabs and abandoned trinket stands.

Little had changed on the sand. The younger man had abandoned the red headed girl by now who had taken to trying to fish. Apparently he had finally gained her permission to go explore the trackless wilderness for there was no sign of him save for his tracks. From the direction of said tracks, the tribal chieftain surmised he had blundered off in the direction of the glade of Flopsie, one of the largest of the Fuzzysporkhoppyhoppy. He would surely meet the wrong end of a cottontail by morning. Templeton didn’t much care as he looked a bit stringy anyway and there were plenty of plump fryers still on the beach.

The odd looking angel was continuing to shade the old male from the sun, even as he tossed what appeared to be tools left and right in genteel frustration. Apparently his box was broken. He finally realizing he had tossed a tool aside that he needed and went off in search of it, sifting through the fine sand carefully. He suddenly stopped and appeared to become very excited. Templeton smiled to himself as he knew he had discovered either the tracks of a Fuzzysporkhoppyhoppy or their giant round spoor. Soon the interlopers would run off into the jungle for shelter, and they would be easy pray for his ruthless sous chefs.

However, that did not happen. Instead the interlopers all began to measure the track, and make great shows of scratching marks in books, and argue with one another. “Bad form, bad form indeed…” thought Templeton.

Then apparently thinking he was being sly, one of the intruders drew a purple haired female away from the others. Templeton shifted slightly and realized he recognized one of the outsiders. It was that madman from Lauk known as BardHaven. That was disturbing enough, but in his whispered conversation with the female, he mentioned an idol, and she nodded….then he said the name that none may speak while standing, that of the Itchsporkchowchow God of Natural Disasters and Drink Mixes….Doyawannabuyawatch, the king of the chaotic and somewhat lascivious pantheon of Itchysporkchowchow deities. How could he know such a name, and the idol he spoke of, could he mean the Busy Man’s Dolly?

Somethine had to be done this minute! They must not disturb the Busy Man’s noble work! With a blood curdling shriek, Templeton charged the beach. In an instant, hundreds of Itchysporkchowchow warriors had joined him, surrounding the small knot of outsiders, poking at them with umbrellas, spears, and discarded radio antennas.

Highly pleased with himself, Templeton was counting his captives and was just about to notice that the red headed child seemed to be missing when one of the older females strode up to him, followed by another of the females.

“Look darling Gabi..a SAVAGE!” said Female One.

“Why yes my dear Eva, it certainly is. A fine specimen of a savage too. Quite…well grown. Look, his nametag says “Hi, my name is Templeton”. How friendly!” said Female Two.

Female One nodded. “A manly son of the jungle, a veritable Tarzan, even though he is wearing golf shoes and driving a coconut shell scooter. Perhaps, we must make a sacrifice and win our freedom and the freedom of our compatriot by…succumbing to his primal aggression towards civilized women. Do you think he may need to have his reason overthrown in such a fashion as he victimizes our heaving busoms, my sweet Gabi?”

Female Two looked shock, but had begun to unbutton her bush jacket. “NAUGHTY Eva, you can’t mean….NO, you mean to…offer him a Duchess Sandwich??!!”

Female One giggled, her bush jacket already removed. “I think a Duchess Sandwich is our only hope, my poor benighted Gabi. I am prepared to make such a dark and sordid sacrifice for you, and our goals.

Female Two nodded resolutely, pleased she had worn the apricot corset and not the one with little palm trees. “And I would make such an exhausting and moist sacrifice for you, noble Eva…and of course for our goals as well. What say you, ruffian, would a Duchess Sandwich still your hunger for passionate violence?”

Templeton raised an eyebrow. “Sandwich? Hunger?”

The two females clapped and spoke in unison. “You SEE, we have soothed the savage breast…beast…no, breast….A sandwich you wish and a sandwich you shall have!”

Templeton nodded…”Yer darn tootin. Liberace, bring the mayonnaise and some gherkins.  We’re havin deli!”

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