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really old story that I wrote in math class (oh dear six years ago) with my then good friend and really funny guy Calen. Thought i would put it up here as a reminder that I have improved, and because I still think its funny (although my fingers itch to edit it).
The Secret Of Celery Isle (written by me, and Calen Horton)
"never go out at night, my minion onions" the leader of the small patrol shifted to take in the whole tropical isle laid out infront of him. He turned back to his troops adding, "if you do, I won't be at fault for your deaths. Remember always that the celery stalks at midnight."
The minion onions (being mindless logic machines) paid no heed to their leaders warning. They felt that their tear gas was more than a match for the savage samurai celery. They set out carefree as the orange moon rose over the inky black waters behind them.
"Halt my minions!" the onion leader barked at his troops. "If ye plan to leave tonight, set up camp, that way those of you who survive will have a place to retreat." The onions pivoted, (more rolled actually) and began to set up camp on the beach. Once the master's tent had been established, and properly furnished, he decided to organize a meeting. "Dorg! Tharg!" he called to his generals "in my tent, now!"
The obediant onions went into the tent. "I must inform you of the hazards of this isle" Blank stares from Dorg and Tharg."
"First the samurai celery. We are safe here, this is a sacred celery burial ground, they will not come near. Second, the hot water springs (more commonly known as the "soup springs"). They pop out from within the jungle. The temperature is hot enough to turn a large onion into a smushy pulpy mass in ten minutes." Dorg and Tharg shuddered at the visual image as the leader paused for breath and spat out onion juice. (a special attribute of this juice is its effect on the eyes, it's the "secret ingrediant" in their tear gas)
The only warning you get is the smell of bay leaves. If smelt remove yourself from the area immediately. What, what is it Dorg?"
"Um, milord, what do bay leaves smell like?"
"What a completly competent question," said the leader sarcastically, "one befitting a lowly ensign taking Onion Defense 101!" The leader brandished his green onion whip (made from the scalps of seven scallions) as Dorg and Tharg cowered.
"Now leave me and head my words. You are dismissed." Dorg and Tharg quickly rolled out of the room.
Back outside the tent, the minions had finished setting up camp. The tents were up and the squash had been fed and groomed (well "polished" would be a better word). Dorg and Tharg quickly recounted their meeting with the leader.
The onions plopped themselves around the fire (at the careful distance of about 3/4 of a squash away).
Does anyone know a story?" asked ensign Morack, the youngest onion of the patrol. "Why sure, I think I know a story fitting of this night." said lt. Col. Diack.
"It happened long ago, when I was a little green onion, not much older than you, Mory." Morack looked increduously at the ancient Diack. Diack was a large yellow onion who was going black (although no one would admit it to his face). He was covered from top to bottom with battle scars. His valor was widely known, why he had fought in the Fruit Wars. When Diack glanced back at Morack, Morack cringed. Diack laughed and began his tale:
"Way back when I was a wee little green onion," Diack said (adopting a Scottish accent for emphasis. Why not, that was where the Fruit Wars took place)
"My company was hunting band of renagade apples through the Loch Forrest, when the celery descended upon us. You should have seen them!" Diack said, hopping around and looking scary to add to the suspense.
"They turned the commander into onion rings before the alarm was even sounded. We had walked into a trap!" He paused for a dramatic moment.
"Now me and my fellow minions were prepared to become stir fry. Then the samurai leader appeared. And let me tell you, never a more fearsome sight has this vegetable ever seen. Dressed in lettuce leaves he was and carrying a tomato vine whip, the leader stood about three onions high. Long and thin was he, and a healthy spring green color as well, in perfect fighting condition. He raised a leafy front for silence and then he spoke.
'Foolish onions you have trespassed on our homeland. Tell me, where you chasing these?' At that he made a leafy motion, and two of his followers hopped into view, rolling along several dry husks of the apples we had been chasing. All of their juices, their very life's blood, had been sucked out of them.
'what did you do to them?' someone asked.
'Simple, ' the leader of the celery said, 'We threw them to the lettuce." All of us remaining (roughly ten) gasped. We had heard enough stories to know about the lettuce. Evil, vile, bloodsucking vampires in capes of green they were. 'And now, its your turn.' the leader said with an evil grin.
BANZAI!!! yelled a voice from behind and above us. We knew what was happening, but the celery weren't so sure. Suddenly a king-sized banana bearing the proud mark of the Chiquitas, smashed into the leader, knocking him into the bushes and splattering banana goo across the clearing. In the confusion following the attack, we fled into the forrest. Right before I went in, I turned around to salute the brave lone kamikaze
"who saved our lives." Diack closed his eyes, remembering. "Now that's the end of my tale." He rose from the campfire and hopped to his tent.
Dorg and Tharg sent up night watches. Morack and Thiesen got first watch, Darg and Ayeck had second, Tharg and Diack had third and Snark and Feron had fourth and final watch.
Morack and Thiesen prepared to watch for two hours, while the other minions went to bed.
"Have you ever seen a vampire lettuce? Do they really suck apples dry?" asked Morack
"Nope, but Diack is a great warrior he would not lie."
A long pause ensued. The crackling of the dying fire was all that could be heard. The squash woke up and became restlessless. Thiesen stretched.
Something was out there.
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