Episode I: The Shortpants Menace

So last month I had the pleasure of being able to write a story for a contest by John Scalzi. Basically you had to come up with a short story based upon this picture:

yeah, kinda wierd eh? Well, it was alot of fun trying to come up with some kind of fitting explanation as to how these two vastly unique characters came together, and why Wil Wheaton is riding the craziest looking creature ever seen outside of Monty Python. So, I dug deep, and came up with this story…enjoy!

The Day The Skies Rained….Kittens?

Sir Wil had never been one to play with the fair and just. After all, when you are the leader of a group of warriors and mercenaries who look up to a rather hideous demonic clown, people tend to look at you with a bit of disgust. This did not bother Wil though, for he was very assured of himself, almost self-centered in a way. Basically, he was a rather arrogant fellow.

Now, just because the Demonic Klown Order took their orders from, well, a demonic clown, did not necessarily make them evil. Quite to the contrary, they are considered among the grandest of citizens and the guardians of the capital city of Gothgeelia in the land of Wheatonia. And on this fateful day, Sir Wil and his gallant guard shall be put to the test. For it is today, that the Orcs invade.

Orcs. Vile, hideous deformed creatures from the deepest and darkest nightmares. They lived deep in the volcanic Ignilian mountains far south of Gothgeelia. Long have they been a bane to the townspeople, due in no part to a deep hated of all humans for having captured many orcs and put them into slavery. On this day, the Orcs were preparing to rise up and conquer the humans.

Its was two months prior that Sir Wil, at the request of the people and the ruling council, had asked for a cease fire with the orcs and to speak with their leader, Scalz. Its was in the forest of Exteia that this fateful encounter was to happen.

The orcs arrived at the agreed upon meeting location mere moments before spotting the humans approaching on horseback from the the west. Sir Wil, however, was not among them. He rode high above on the great creature known as the unifelphon, a rather drollish looking creature. Best described as a gryphon with a unicorn horn and the head of a delightfully cute kitten, its purpose in life was simply to ferry commanders into battle, whilst distracting the enemy with its blatant odd cuteness. Then of course it gouges your eyes out.

“Come down here and face me man to man, pink skin!” Scalz shouted into the sky. The unifelphon swooped down with a fierce speed and landed mere paces from the feet of the enemy orcs. Sir Wil slowly dismounted, his chainmail armor brightly adorned with the colors of their order, which curiously took the shape of a clown. He stood tall, not only in reality but in self-assuredness. A smug, wily grin came across his youthful bearded face.

“You, sir, are no man. Matter of fact it is not even clear if calling you a man is even proper. And how dare you call me a pink skin.” He said, his eyes looking up, as if searching for answers. Or words. “I shall have you know that we humans are not in any way pink, and we would ask that you and all orcs cease from calling us that. It is rather insulting.”

“Hah, I bet you turn pink when we boil ya in a steaming cauldron!!” A voice shouted from within the crowd, followed by a burst of laughter from the orc legion.

“Enough!” Sir Wil shouted. “Lets just get this started and over with as quick as possible. Now, in exchange for you not attacking any human villages from here on out, we are willing to give orcs work in the farms and in the villages helping out with menial tasks. Your pay will be rations and better rags to cloth yourselves in. Agreed?”

“That is slavery!” Scalz replied with much hatred. “We orcs shall not, and will never be, slaves to you or to any humans ever. We live free!!” The cheers and chants from the orc legion echoed through the forest.

“No? Very well then, we are done here” Wil proclaimed, as he turned and walked back to his mount.

“Wait, that’s it? No negotiating at all?” Scalz asked of Wil.

“Negotiate? The mere fact that you even know of the word is hilarious in itself..” he replied. “And besides, those frilly shortpants of yours are hurting my eyes. Men, we are….”

“What!” Scalz interrupted. “How dare you insult my grand gimcrack. You shall pay for this insult with the death of every pink skin in Gothgeelia! Rest assured Wil. In two hours time, I shall return with the largest army of orcs you have seen. We will tear down the walls of your precious city and feast in the halls of the Demonic Klown!”

Back in the present, as the orc legions hammered and clawed at the main door into the city, Sir Wil took to the skies. He knew that the only way to stop the legions once and for all was to kill Scalz and tear down their morale. However, did he have it in him to take another life, no matter how twisted? As he soared the sky, he spotted Scalz’s encampment planted onto an outcropping on the tallest of the volcanic peaks.

Orc scouts signaled to Scalz that Wil was approaching. His gaze fixed on the smoke filled skies, and he drew his mighty battle axe in preparation for what could be a final battle. As Sir Wil swooped in upon his mighty unifelphon, its from claws gleaming and ready for striking, he took his spear in hand. With a mighty throw, it found its mark with deadly precision…….in Scalz’s foot.

Sir Wil, assured of victory, leapt from the sky and his mount. As he found his footing, he drew his sword from the sheath on his back, its sharp slightly curved blade glinting in the light. He walked over to his adversary, who desperately tugged at the heavy spear that pinned his foot the the mountain rock.

“Surrender. You have lost the battle.”

“Never, pink skin, not as long as I still hold my axe!”

As he raised his axe to strike, Wil sliced the air with his sword. The razor sharp blade found its mark, separating Scalz’s axe, and hand, from him.

“No!” he shouted in agony. “Thats my good hand you demon! The battle can not end like this!”

“Call off your army now, Scalz, and I shall let you leave with your life.”

“Very well, Sir Wil, but mark my words. The orcs shall return in much stronger numbers and conquer your people.” Scalz said as he tore the spear, finally, from his foot.

“Please,” Sir Wil said to him with a slight chuckle. “Don’t be a ninny.”

The orcs began retreating into the dark valleys of the Ignilian mountains. And as the smoke cleared and the fires put out, life in Gothgeelia began to return to normal. Children played in the streets, men drank ales in the taverns, women did womanly things, and Sir Wil stood proud in the halls of the Demonic Klown, having saved the day once again.

However, carried in the breeze, was a distant echo. An echo of a maniacal cackle. Somewhere, beyond the great sea, a demon plotted……..

The End?