HappyPhantom was well over exotic radishes and eel. He'd been carrying this shit around for too long. And the eel smelled. Smelled bad.
His stomach yearned for some tender venison; but there are no deer in the desert. Happy remembered waking up in the sand and was still confused about what had caused him to end up there.
He had since heard his brothers had suffered the same fate; and that they now ran with the Gobblin in his sandy hot kingdom. Looking back on his awakening in the desert, Happy could now imagine hearing the Gobblin's wrath echoing through the dunes - for the Gobblin's sharp tongue and foul words are renowned; and Happy fears them. He wants a peaceful life.
Waking in the desert, Happy had wandered aimlessly north, keen to get away from the sand. He missed the forest, and the snow of his home: Initially he planned to make his way to New Ulburban but he heard rumour that Ulburban was no longer the place he remembered; not home.
One evening on the steppe - before the radishes had begun to turn is stomach - his camp was approached by a young man clad in blue. Happy recognised him as a great warrior from the south; a land where women glow and men plunder, and where the beer does flow and men chunder. The fellow offered Happy his last vegemite sandwich.
The two talked of their travels, and where they were heading. Happy had contemplated travelling north, but word from friends only brought words of war; word from the west had been of trade conglomerates. So despite the sand, and the heat, Happy was drawn south towards his brothers.
Happy was happy (HAH! it's a name AND a feeling!) that the young southern warrior offered to join him on his travels. They must seek adventure the warrior said, and a home.
Happy was glad to hand some radishes over to his friend - and together they began to make their way south to a place called New Mazigh where the steppe and desert meet.
There the two hoped to catch up over some Coopers, Kiwi, and Crocodile and set up a sauna business (onyx hot rocks for all!) for wary travellers from the money made on those magnificent radishes.
Title: Re: A tale of Radishes
Post by: HappyPhantom on March 06, 2014, 08:36:14 am
Thanks to all the cool kids that turned up to the first New Mazigh battle...
The trials and tribulations of trying to run a small business: A Tale of Radishes continues...
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Unfortunately the apparently devout citizens of Mazigh, or at least those willing to bend their ear to the holy preachers nearby, had been convinced an innocent massage business would lead them all to ruin. They had clearly confused a soothing hot rock massage with perhaps the more debauched kind. Maybe they had heard Larry was a silent partner in the business, who knows.
Regardless, as the Happy Fun Squad entered town, they were met with only hostility. The crusaders of un-relaxed muscles and aching cramps, hiding their identities with hoods and scarves, drove the Happy Squad out of town :(
Clearly the locals had been tempted by the silver that would come their way, and would rather shed blood for money than support any local small businesses. McGod was in town.
The bitter taste of old radishes burned in Happy's mouth.
Now skint due to the horrendous interest due on their bridging small business loan (radish investment could only get them so far), the Southern warrior and Happy cobbled together all they had left.
In the hope of convincing even the most godly of people that body touching is actually ok, and that nothing beats a great massage, especially after a hard fought battle, the Happy Fun Squad threw all in.
As the kids say "#YOLO!"
Title: Re: A tale of Radishes
Post by: HappyPhantom on March 08, 2014, 01:08:27 am
Thanks to all the super cool kids who showed up for the successful second battle for New Mazigh...
Unfortunately, the saga continues:
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Well, the party in New Mazigh was to be short lived.
True to his heritage, the southern warrior was chundering into the river that ran through the middle of the village - the fun squad has stayed up late drinking in celebration - and as he retched into the water, in the distance he could see a giant poo-coloured dust cloud. He wiped his mouth and squinted into the distance. Flashes of neon broke through the dust cloud - this could be only one one man: Cheater Bob.
As the warrior ran back into the village to warn the others, neon pink arrows began to thunk into the sand... Cheater Bob was attacking...
Title: Re: A tale of Radishes
Post by: HappyPhantom on March 08, 2014, 11:23:44 pm
Sorry, I darned fucked up that last defense due to my change in allegiances :oops:
And so we come to the final chapter in a Tale of Radishes:
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Happy watched as the southern warrior took off into the distance. He carried everything they had been able to quickly grab from the sauna premises. They had said quick goodbyes, and promised to catch up with one another again soon.
Happy sat on the bridge watching what seemed like neon fireworks go off around him and contemplated the situation. All he'd wanted to do was earn a bit of money (touch a few bodies) and be able to pick and choose some cool clothes to stride round in. Dealing with all this didn't seem worth it, given he was actually trying to seek a peaceful life. He didn't actually care that much about Mazigh.
Happy stood up, and put his had in his pocket, where he could feel a scrunched up piece of paper. It was a note that had come by Butt-Courier soon after the attack had started. Apparently the Gobblin Kingdom was no more, and his brothers offered him a place with them.
"Fuck it" he thought, "it's gotta be better than dealing with this shit. Bob will keep."
And with that, he hoisted his pack and took off north, back on the road again.