I Am Clever


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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Smitty Story, Chapter 6
I Am Clever
I can’t believe I’m still writing this thing. I really have no idea where this will ultimately go (besides the vague given of ‘finding a Class 5 Cook’ :P) or how it will end up, so brace yourselves and enjoy the ride.

…or, be weirded out by the ride and get off after reading the synopsis/seeing Chapter 1. Your choice.

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
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5


After that threatening announcement, Yvanovich was the first to speak up. “Why is it that whenever it looks as though we’re out of danger, some new threat comes along?” the jester complained.

Smitty shook her head. “What are you talking about? That hasn’t happened at all on this trip.”

“It totally has!” Yvanovich retorted. He then pointed over at Won Ton, who was attempting to wring out his tiny bag. “When this guy tried to attack me!”

“I beg to differ,” Smitty replied, not looking up from where she was now examining a rather damp notebook that she had fished out of her bag. “That only happened because you didn’t watch where you were stepping.”

The jester seemed to deflate for a moment, then perked up as he remembered another incident. “Well, then - the Ooomoo attacking!”

“Wrong again - it never actually attacked, and we were technically already being threatened at the time, so that doesn’t really count.”

“Oh. Uh… the sludge field?” By now, the Russian seemed to be grasping at straws. Smitty just sighed and shoved the notebook into his face, pointing at a line of slightly smeared text.

“That was evident from the moment we left the treeline - and that was more of an inconvenience than a threat, anyway. Read this to refresh your memory, if you want.”

Yvanovich grabbed the book before it fell. “Is this…? Have you been writing about our travels? In cheap NOVEL form, I might add?” He gave the Princess a look of scorn, pointing out the cover. “I mean, really - you’ve titled it ‘Smitty and the Quest for the Class 5 Cook’. Nobody’s going to want to read that. It sounds like a cheaply-made children’s book. And the pictures?”

Smitty raised her eyebrows at that. “What pictures? There aren’t any.”

“EXACTLY!” The jester shouted triumphantly. “There are no pictures, therefore losing eighty-five percent of your readership. I know, because I’ve done research on the subject. And that’s another thing - you clearly haven’t done your research. I mean, clearly I’m nowhere near that obnoxious in real life. It’s like this is some horrible caricature of me that only resembles me in name.”

“Yeah, well,” Smitty snatched the drying notebook from Yvanovich’s hands, ignoring his protests. “If I’d wanted your criticisms of my writing style, I wouldn’t have asked. And besides, someone somewhere is bound to like it, at least marginally.” She then turned to Won Ton, who seemed just about dry. “How are you doing?”

“Much better, thank you.” The small man nodded, looking up at her.

Smitty began to say something else, but was cut off by the booming voice again from deep inside the cave. “I’M WAITING! DO YOU WISH TO INCUR THE WRATH OF THE RIDICULOUS QUADRILATERAL?”

Smitty looked back outside the cave. It was now raining harder than ever, and gusts of unnatural wind were starting to blow into the cave, bringing showers of Gatorade in with them. At the rate the weather was shifting, the travellers couldn’t stay where they were, unless they wanted to get flooded. She looked back to face the others. “Well, I think-“

“ARE YOU LEAVING, OR WHAT? I HAVEN’T GOT ALL DAY, HERE!” The voice interrupted Smitty again.

By now, the Princess was just getting annoyed at the constant interruptions. “IMPATIENT, MUCH?” she shouted back.


By now, Won Ton and Yvanovich were making ‘do not engage; kill the conversation’ signals, but Smitty paid them no mind. “OH, REALLY?” she replied. “LIKE WHAT?”

“UH…” It was clear this Ridiculous Quadrilateral being had never expected the conversation to take this kind of turn. “LOTS OF STUFF! GREAT STUFF! EPIC STUFF! THE KIND OF BETTER THINGS YOU COULD ONLY DREAM OF DOING! SO THERE!”

“Right…” Smitty folded her arms. Then she noticed the floor of the cave was slowly starting to get covered in an ever-heightening pool of Gatorade. The cave was flooding, and there was nowhere to go but deeper inside, where a potential threat was lurking. Smitty grimaced. “Only one way to go, and that’s in. I don’t know about you guys, but I really don’t want to stay and get flooded out.”

Yvanovich cringed. “You mean, go in there? With that…thing? Not a chance. I’m too good-looking to die.”

Sparing only a brief look of disgust for the jester’s cowardice and complete lack of logic, Won Ton shouldered his own tiny bag. “I will come with you, my lady. Someone shall have to defend you, should it come down to a combative state.”

Shouldering the bag of supplies herself, Smitty began to walk into the darkness, Won Ton by her side. “Hopefully there’s another exit, or we’ll all be in a lot of trouble.”

Seeing that the two of them were leaving (they had taken the only light source), Yvanovich looked up from where he was curled up in the fetal position on his rock. He then realized how quickly the Gatorade was rising, and his sense of self-preservation suddenly kicked in. Pausing only to snatch up his re-soaked jester hat, he ran in the direction of the quickly disappearing light. “Hey! Don’t leave me here!”

In doing so, he completely missed the pair of eyes watching him from outside the cave…



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