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Worm Tales Part Three

A tail of two idiots

And so it starts… again…oh wait, we did this…right.

Worm Front:
On the riverside, somewhere in the hilly tracts… (we wouldn't know where this place is, we usually get lost without street signs, we tried, we honestly did, but we failed miserably)

After a long hiatus, of about a few weeks, in which we gave accursed exams and went to on vacations, we are back to tell a tale of epic-ly small proportions. This saga is so big it could be termed as minuscule. That means very small for those who scored low on SATs. We are good students. Period.

On the riverside, were two traveling worms on a mission. They were on a mission so important that they had even forgotten to bring rations with them, which is why they were taking a detour to a way station… to buy food.

“Please sir, just jump, its just a small rock, we had to climb over it. Come on, it isn't more than a few inches.” Watsworm coerced his cowardly superior, trying to get him to cross yet another obstacle on the road.

“Tell me Watsworm, what was the purpose of climbing this rock, I mean couldn't we have just gone around it?” Sherlock McWorm asked. His observational skills were very good, except they only worked indoors, or in Russia.

After a lot of ministrations and yelled curses which we would have loved to write down but we fear for our word limits so we won't, McWorm finally got down from the rock. He fell.

“Ah, now that that's over, lets go sir.” Watsworm said, with more than an audible trace of relief in his voice.

“Let me tell you now Watsworm, I'm an intellectual, you can't expect me to climb rocks and what not. If you do so, you're fired. Where's my pipe?” pompously warned McWorm.

“Ah sir, forgive me, but you don't know the way to the ducks,” snidely remarked Watsworm… the wee shite.

It took them two more hours to reach the worm checkpoint, where there was a way station for traveling worms to rest. The way station was leaf propped up on twig. Vladiworm, who was faster on his tail, had already arrived there before the other two, and was now already drunk on tree-bark vodka.

“Oops, I need to pee. Wait I don't, not anymore,” Vladiworm, with a drunken lisp said, while the two weary travelers stared in horror.

“Uhm… uhm… I think I need to sit down. No, not there, there's all that…stuff there,” Watsworm, said, very reluctantly, in his mind he was already running away.

“Nonsense, Watsworm, Every man needs a drink. I think I need one too,” McWorm, with bubbles all around, coming out of his pipe.

With an increasing look of horror upon his face, Watsworm sat down at the bar. And over the course of the evening he was the only one who remained sober. Excluding McWorm, who after his sip from his first drink, promptly fell asleep. Mommy had never condoned drinking, and that was his first sip ever. Vladiworm on the other hand, cleaned the bar out.

Duck Front:
“Avast ye scurvy scallywags, watch the starboard!” hollered a very excited duck who went by the name of Sir Gander Duckalot. He was a naval commander, except he couldn't captain a ship even if his life depended on it. That's why we have sidekicks to do the job for the stupid heroes.

Duckenstein, said sidekick, rolled his eyes and pointed out what needed to be done to the other ducks on board the SS Ducknought. He knew what needed to done, while Duckalot didn't. Duckalot also harbored a fantasy of pirates. We should have never let him watch the movies.

Sir, shouldn't we be moving faster, I mean, this is an emergency.” Duckenstein said.

“Eh? What? Shut up! Let me command my ship, I know what I'm doing.” Duckalot said, seemingly drunken on the sea air. His tail was in bandages as were his wings. There had been a bad case of Scotch tape and ants, but let's not go there. Wars had been fought for lesser reasons. Take Troy for example. It was just a woman.

“Uh, sir, that helm is ornamental; turning it around won't do anything. The real steering wheel is in the cabin.” Duckenstein pointed out.

“Uh… what? These gulls are screaming too much. I can't hear you. I tell you, gulls are abominations. How many times have they stolen our food? Huh? We should wage war on the first…” yodeled Duckalot, he was obliviously ignorant of reality. He tended to ignore the people who actually did the work. Duckenstein didn't mind though, everyone knew that Duckalot was useless on a boat.

“Uh…sir, I think you're going green again. Maybe you should down to the cabins. You have that motion sickness you know,” a very worried and embarrassed Duckenstein said.

“Nonsense! I feel fine… ugghh. I don't feel so good. Avast ye scurvy… ah, forget it. I can't do this anymore, Duckenstein, take command.” Duckalot said, in between dry heaves.

Duckenstein, who had been guiding the ship all this time, refrained from saying anything. He didn't trust himself enough to say the right things. But he did laugh when Duckalot threw up overboard; laughed a lot actually.

“Like I said sir, maybe you should go down. There was that book you planning to read remember? Why don't you go finish that?” Duckenstein said, sympathetically.

“What book? Oh, you mean, MacDuck? Yes, I was planning to read that. I think I'll go down,” squawked Duckalot over the sound of the wind.

“Right sir. Don't forget to take a plastic bag with you. The last time you vomited all over the bunk and the cleaning crew complained a lot.” Duckenstein said, feeling vindicated that the thorn had been finally removed.

The Enemy Front:
In a cold dark cellar… in a drain… in a country beside ours. (We can't name any names, we fear for our toilets.)

Dung beetles have an affinity for dung. That's why they are called that. They also had an affinity for war and such. They didn't like it when others flourished. It was the dung in their bloodstreams. It made them politically vindictive.

Their supreme leader, who also happened to be a peace loving spiritual warlod, was currently playing a video game. His name was Dung Baba, the history behind the title too gross even for us to tell you.

The cellar was like a hall, and there was a huge conference like table in it. The other war commanders sat at it, playing poker. That's how they worked, with leisure. Why so serious after all? It was just another secret war.

“Grand Dung Theft 4 is awesome! Just look at how the vehicles control. The game play… ah… beautiful.” Dung Baba exclaimed, like a little gamer beetle.

“Ah sir… what about the worms and the ducks, we did as you ordered,” said one of the poker playing commanders, he was cheating, he had five aces in his arsenal.

“Oh them, right, kill 'em all. Who needs 'em? Wait, I do, I need their supplies.” Dung Baba said, engrossed in the game.

“I think they might unite...” the same commander said.
“Ah… of course. I see. Then they will all die... where's my dung beer?”

[To Be Continued]

By Tareq Adnan and Azmir Hussain

Gone with the rain

I cry For the Time That You Were here with us
I cry for the Memories I've Left behind
I Cry for the Pain,
The Lost,
The Old
And the new

The splattering sound of the rain falling on the window panes brought back to my senses. As thunder rumbled outside, I could not help recall those happy days I spent with her. The sweet smell of soil and the gusty gale not brought back those memories, but made realize that those were one of the happiest days, or maybe the happiest days of my life!

What's fascinating is that we became friends within a very short time, and then even closer friends. And then from the best of friends, we turned into complete strangers. Before, we used to chat for hours, but now, I don't even get to hear her voice once a day. The person who used to shout at when I didn't used to take my meals on time doesn't even check on me now, when I am ill! The person she has turned into now is a mere shadow of her former self. She doesn't even care anymore!

I still remember how on rainy days like this, we spent so many happy moments. A single drop of tear rolls down my eyes, as I remember my friend, who still means the world to me. Do you remember that day, when it was raining heavily and your car didn't come to pick you up? Do u remember that as I stood under a shed, you were desperately trying to cover your head with a copy? I felt bad that I didn't have an umbrella to lend you. But the only difference is, on that day, I was looking at my friend. And now I look at a person who doesn't even care if I exist!

Does this mean that you never considered me as your friend? Were all those promises empty that you made to me? “I will always be beside you,” you told this just because you had to? Why are you not with me now when I need you the most?? Don't you realize how close you are to my heart when I told you all my secrets, laid open my life like a book in front of you? Before you used to read my thoughts even when I didn't say anything, and now? Now you don't even understand me when you see tears in my eyes?? It doesn't matter to you anymore! But what about those moments happy, sad, funny, good, and bad - we spent together? Do you want to forget them as if they never happened? If I ever hurt you without realizing, then please forgive me. I am sorry for everything, for the countless times I made you cry. But am I not also the person, who brought a beautiful smile on your face when you were sad?

You really mean a lot to me and I never took you for granted. You are one of those, who make the core of my heart. You are still my best friend, not because I couldn't make any new friends, but because I don't want to replace you! Its true and I mean it. And I am saying this not because I have to, but because I will always be there for you!

By The Dark Lord


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