Dieing is easy
by, 08-05-2010 at 01:53 PM (1179 Views)
Comedy is hard. I've been working on a comedic fantasy story, which by now is more of a fantasy story with comedic undertones, if their is a difference. I hereby offer the first page of what will eventually be a trilogy, and then hopefully a setting of random books. The title of the book at this time is classified, because it's moronic:
In a mystical land separated from our own, as these fantasy stories usually are, that mystical land was on the brink of war, chaos, turmoil, and horrible inflation, so more of the same. In this era of high prices and chaos, a young man will fulfill his destiny…
“Welcome to Elf Fried Dragon, how may I help you?”
But first he must take my lunch order.
“Whoa, how are you doing that?”
His name is Twitchy, a young human unaware of the power he will hold.
“Never mind. I’ll take a four piece with elf bread, and a medium elf berry juice.”
“That’ll be three gold.”
“Fine, two gold.”
“This place is too expensive.”
“You have any idea how hard it is to slay a dragon?”
“You tell him, Twitchy!”
“I am, Boss.”
“Yeah. Here’s your order.”
Now that I have my lunch, we can continue. After I leave, a bloody and battered elf staggers in carrying a golden box.
“The Orb of Evil… is… in the wrong hands… War… Find… Dundorff…” the elf collapsed and died.
“Uh, Boss, we got a dead elf at the counter!”
“Is it one of those hot female ones?”
“No, it’s one of those old male ones.”
“Toss it in the dumpster!”
Twitchy dragged the elf by the legs through the back to the alley where the dumpster was and heaved the body in. Only then did the box leave the dead elf’s hand and clatter to the ground. Twitchy examined its gold color and seemingly seamless sides and stuck it in his pocket.
“I can try and pawn it later at least.”
Dude, you can’t pawn the Orb.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
You wanna go at it? I’ll omniscient you straight to the moon!
“Don’t you have a different scene to narrate?”
I’ll be back.