I Am Clever

alec_towser


A Fine Line - Between Chaos and Creation

Everybody seems to think I'm lazy; I don't mind, I think they're crazy...


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More of the Smitty Story... :P
I Am Clever
alec_towser
Title: Smitty And The Quest For The Class 5 Cook
Author: Myself, Smitty 'Jaws' McPatchington, Esq.
Rating: G (might go up later)
Word Count: Unfinished
Disclaimer: I don't own the organizations I name in this story (names have been changed), and a good deal of the characters are based off of real people.
Warning(s): MAJOR CRACK/RANDOMNESS. Read at your own risk. :P
AN: My fourth piece of OF. Previous chapters:


Chapter 1

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After several hours of walking, Yvanovich the jester began to complain. "I'm hungry! My feet hurt! My smelly spray-on deodorant's gone!"

Princess Smitty fixed a withering glare on him. "Aren't you supposed to entertain me, not exasperate me?"

"Your point being?" Yvanovich returned petulantly.

"My point is that I threw out all your smelly spray-on deodorants/colognes/etc. out a long time ago, so shut your pie-hole," Smitty smirked, leaving the jester standing there open-mouthed as she continued to walk.

Finally he regained his wits and ran to catch up. "But WHY, Majesty, WHY? They were preciously delicious! Not to mention being incredible babe magnets!"

"Because they're contraband," the Princess returned, not once turning her head. "You know full well that smelly things of that nature are banned in Marineria, as my delicate nose and allergies can't handle them. And as well, where would you find babes to attract out in the middle of the WOODS?" She gestured at the multitude of tall trees surrounding them. Yvanovich opened his mouth to complain again, to which she silenced him with a hand held up. "Don't like it? Then leave the country."

"Fine!" Yvanovich pouted. "I don't have to take this abuse." He stomped his foot, after which a yell was heard. "What'd you step on my house for?" screamed a little man, only about 6 inches tall.

Yvanovich bent down, and Princess Smitty came back to join him. "Who are you," Smitty asked, fascinated.

The man turned a haughty glare upon them. "My name is Won Ton, and I am one of the fine people of Hayrjell. This imbecile," he indicated the jester, "stepped on my house before the Dippity Do cement had a chance to set! Now it'll take weeks to fix!" he ranted and raved. "But that time should be considerably shortened - considering YOU will be taking the time to help me out! If you don't, you will suffer the wrath and judgement of our fine people!"

Smitty smirked. "What're they going to do - bite our ankles?"

Won Ton rolled his eyes, put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. Immediately, hundreds of little people all similar in size to him, all bearing weapons, appeared from out of the trees and surrounding shrubbery, completely surrounding Smitty and Yvanovich. "Well, this kind of changes things," the jester whispered as the people began to close in.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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