Alice Wondercat

    Alice Wondercat took the stage among bursts of confetti and dazzling lights. The crowd cheered as she stepped under the spotlights; her sequined dress sending dots of light across the audience. When the music began, Alice started leaping back and forth across the stage. Giant balls of yarn descended from the ceiling, and she jumped up and clung to them. She scratched one, then flung herself across to the other clawing it equally ferociously.

    The audience was amazed at the beauty of the performance, and when the curtain fell, Alice Wondercat received a standing ovation. She stepped out from the curtain to bow, and was greeted with showers of fish and sprays of milk. Tears welled in her eyes, and she retreated from the stage, happy to have given yet another magnificent performance.

The Stinky Banana

    "What is that awful smell!" exclaimed Delilah. She scrunched up her nose and waved the air around her trying to not smell the smell. "Eustace, come here!" she cried.

    "What is it?" her brother asked as he entered the room. Then he gasped in repulsion at the odor. "Blegh, what is that!"

    "I don't know, but we need to find it and get it out of here!"

    The siblings looked all throughout the room, taking breaks outside for fresh air often. Eventually, Eustace bravely followed the smell to one of the air vents, when he was sure it was where the smell was originating from, he lifted it up and reached his hand in.

    He rummaged around and brushed against something with a revolting texture. Overcoming his shudder of disgust, he delicately grasped the object dripping wet with slime and removed it from the vent.

    Delilah and Eustace beheld a black drooping object that reeked such a foul odor it was nearly visible. They realized what it was, and in unison shouted "Sarah!"

    Snickering sounded from the stairwell, and soon Sarah descended on her belly, laughing and blabbering "'Nana! 'Nana!"

    And so, the two older siblings found the stinky banana their little sister placed in the vent. They threw it in the garden to decompose further, if that was possible, and the air in the house eventually cleared of the smell. The family was wiser, leaving Sarah to further challenge her disruptiveness.

Grubs for Mom

    "Green ones. Gotta find the green ones. Why does Mom always insist on the GREEN ones? They all taste the same." Nglemel muttered under his breath as he looked for grubs. He peered under every log he passed trying to find the green grubs Mom liked so much. To him they all tasted the same. Finally, though, he managed to fill his basket with all green grubs and headed home.

    When he arrived, he called proudly "Mom, I'm home with a bunch of green grubs for you!" There was no answer. Nglemel searched through the house for Mom, but he couldn't find her. He walked out to the grounds, and at the edge of the field in the distance he saw a large undulating shape.

    Mom.

    She was eating leaves again.

    She must have decided she was a "vegetarian" again.

    Well fine, Nglemel thought. If she wants the grubs she can have them.

    Interrupting Mom while she was feasting wouldn't do him any good anyway, so Nglemel went to his room to bide his time. Maybe she'd pass out before she came home? Then Nglemel could at least sleep before her tirade the next morning.

    The door slammed downstairs. She didn't pass out. Enough of this Nglemel thought. The boy gathered what belongings he could, and when he heard Mom coming upstairs, he escaped through his window, and set off down the path. He'd figure things out, and anywhere he wound up would be better than this place.

William on the Hill

    William stood tall atop the hill, showing himself freely before the enemy. He was afraid, but he had courage. So, there he stood, ready for the onslaught, determined to fight his best.

Soon, his fellow soldiers joined him, and one by one, what was a single person standing atop the hill, became a squadron, then an army, until the enemy slowed, clearly questioning their chances.

    Eventually, they stopped, and seeing that they were now outnumbered, they retreated. All because William stood tall before them, ready to fight.

The Juicefuat

    "Come and get your juicefuat folks! A nice juicy juicefuat will quench your thirst and sate your hunger! Only $9.99 each!" The juicefuat salesman called out from his stand. No one stopped, and few even slowed to give the man his attention. One little boy, though, did eventually stop. He peered at the bulbous, gnarled fruits and grimaced. But he was so hungry.
    The boy gave the man ten dollars, and the man winked, then handed him the biggest juicefuat on the stand. The boy thanked the man, then looked at the fruit. After another grimace, he closed his eyes, and stuck his teeth out to take a miniscule bite. It probably tasted as awful as it looked.
    As soon as the boy began to chew, his expectations were demolished. It was the most delicious food he'd tasted, and he soon devoured the entire thing. It wasn't until a minute later that he realized he had grown several feet, and his muscles were bulging from head to toe. The boy strutted sown the street, helping everyone he passed lift heavy things and reach high places. He gave upnods to all the cool guys on the street, and when he came back around to the juicefuat stand, he shook the man's hand and started proclaiming loudly the wonders of the juicefuat.
    That day forward, the juicefuat salesman was rich, and he and the boy traveled the world selling juicefuats to all who would buy them.

Deadly Moisture

    The moisture in the air condensed and froze into tiny drops that scattered down the slope. The citizens could hear the drops, and noise they made was the only indication of how far they were from contact. Before long, chaos ensued among the citizens and they themselves scattered in attempt to avoid the drops. One touch would freeze them solid, with little chance to be thawed this far for the Ember.
    Soon enough, the clinking of the drops ended, and the unaffected citizens began inventorying casualties. If it was only a few, maybe they could bring them to the Ember? Small chance, but how could they continue to let their lives ones go without trying? This time would be different.

Mr. Whetherton's Mime

    "Would someone shut that mime up! I can't think straight in here." Mr. Whetherton yelled in the board room. Nancy did her best, but communicating with mime's wasn't a strong skill of hers. It was Mr. Whetherton's idea to bring the mime in the first place, so why should she be the one to handle his outbursts?

Griselda and the Peach Orchard

    Mr. and Mrs. Pliarie had had just about enough of their daughter, Griselda's whining and complaining at the peach orchard. They wanted a nice family outing, and Griselda loved eating peaches at home, so what better family outing than peach picking they thought?

    Well, when they arrive at the peach orchard, Griselda decided she didn't like eating peaches anymore, but she did make sure to complain loudly, for the entire orchard to hear, how hungry she was.

    "Well what's going on here?" A booming voice sounded from behind the family. The orchard director, Mr. Fuzzskin, approached wearing his typical bright orange and yellow tuxedo, complete with top hat and cane.

    "Oh! Mr. Director sir, please forgive us, we've been having a little bit of trouble with Griselda here. You see, she loves eating peaches at home, and so for a family outing, we thought it'd be a nice idea to --"

    The director rapped both Mr. And Mrs. Pliarie on the heads, then turned to Griselda and asked "what's the meaning of this little girl? Not eating your peaches? At MY peach orchard? Why, no one disapproves of Director Fuzzskin's preaches, it simple isn't heard of!

    Griselda had been carrying her single peach this entire time, refusing to eat it. At the director's question she began screaming even louder, and longer, until she took a breath and the entire orchard was silent.

    "Now listen here little miss." The director said. "I can tell you're sad about something. I don't know what it is, and I don't really care. The here orchard is the finest in the valley, and I'll have no more of this behavior on my property. Do you understand?" He asked, glaring sternly at the little girl.

    Griselda met his eyes, and after some time she couldn't keep her menacing stare any longer. It softened, she looked down, and nodded in response to his question. The director picked his head up, and with eyes still on her said "Good."

    Griselda looked back up, and before turning away, Director Fuzzskin made his final remark to the girl, "Eat now, or forever hold your peach!"

The Gathering of Nuts

    With a loud squak, King Scruffus commenced the annual Gathering of Nuts. From the Central Oak, thousands of squirrels descended, some slipping and toppling over others, hitting the ground headfirst, sounding like a chaotic drumroll from a distance. The squirrels spread out in all directions seeking the nuts they'd buried over the year. They dug up the nuts, shoved them in their cheeks, and made their way back to the Central Oak to deposit them before King Scruffus.

    Two Squirrels, Gnuthead and Fuzzball tried sneaking some nuts for themselves, which earned them each a hard rap on the head from the staff of King Scruffus' head enforcer, Gnutmajus. Chittering sounded throughout the cavernous trunk of the Central Oak, and when all the nuts were deposited and accounted for, Gnutmajus raised his paws, demanding silence from the crowd.

    The chittering lowered, and once it was silent in the trunk, King Scruffus raised a large mallet above the sacrificial nut. The largest of the deposited nuts was place in a special sound amplification chamber, and when King Scruffus slammed down on the nut with the mallet, the crack of the nut's shell reverberated through the entire trunk, shaking the rest of the nuts so violently they their own shells cracked.

    Once the reverberation ended, the crowd looked around at all the newly opened nuts. They all looked at King Scruffus, and when he gave the sign that the Great Crack was successful, every squirrel in the trunk began frenetically devouring every nut he could find.

    The squirrels ate nut meat and drank nut wine long into the night, and the next morning, unconscious squirrel bodies littered the ground underneath the Central Oak. Gnuthead and Fuzzball hung by their hind legs from one of the branches, and King Scruffus himself snored away on a separate bough.

    With the squirrels of the Central Oak satisfied, so ended another year's successful Gathering of Nuts.

Matthew Holiday Needs a Holiday

    "Go home you old drunk! You're cranking my style." Matthew Holiday said to the old man lying down on his lawn in a winter jacket. The man didn't move, though. He just laid there snickering at Matthew, which made the young professional even more frustrated.
    At his wit's end, Matthew went back inside to grab the bucket of ice cubes from the freezer. He brought them out and started smashing them with a hammer. With a crazy look in his eyes, he scooped up the chunks of ice with a shovel and started hurling them at the old man, who snickered even harder at the irony.
    Unable to handle it anymore, Matthew went back inside, out on his own coat, and laid down right next to the old man.

    "That's the spirit!" The man said, snickering.

Wendy Rattlebones' Scuff in the Park

    Wendy Rattlebones took her daily route to the library like she did every morning at eight o'clock. She waved at every passerby, rattling her rattlebones as she did. Of course, this would be the day the Mickey Stiffneck decided to wait for her at the park. Mickey couldn't stand Wendy's rattly rattlebones, and he chose to do something about it.

    As Wendy clicked and clacked through the park, Micky stomped and clomped over to her. He picked her up and carried her over to the trash can. Before he threw her in, though, Wiggly Rick slinked and skulked over to Mickey, then slid up right in his face between him and Wendy. He slapped Mickey across the face, causing him to drop Wendy, but Rick scooped one leg behind him and caught her before she and her rattly bones hit the ground.

    "Leave Wendy alone Mickey!" Rick said, and then gently let Wendy back on the ground. Mickey laid there stiff as usual, and refused to say a word.

    "Thank you Rick, you've always got my brittle back and rattly bones!"

    "Any time Wendy! Have a great time at the library!"

    "Thanks! You too. . ." Wendy laughed, "I mean have a good day!"

    Rick laughed back then went on his way to stop further injustice in the town. Wendy proceeded to the library, shaking her rattly rattlebones all the way in, earning her a good "SHHHH!" from the librarian.

Delirium's Madness

    How could she possibly defeat Delirium? He had a grasp on her soul, her very being.

    There's always an escape Madness thought. Always. 

    She wriggled, trying to escape the prison, but still she only felt the weight of the cold chains on her mind. But what was a chain?

    There it is she realized. A chain was just a strand of links.

    "The weakest link" they always discussed. This must be what they meant.

    Link by link she could destroy the chains. And so, she set to work. Breaking through each of the thousands of links with her mind. It'd be long, but the path forward was now clear. And then she could exact revenge upon Delirium.

Another Engine Repair

    The engine was failing again. The stupid engine. Every time they reached 0.33c it started malfunctioning. Then it was a bunch of complicated orbital maneuvers, which took forever, until they reached the nearest repair bay.

    But Ann didn't care. It was always about the bottom dollar for her. If they had an ounce of foresight, she'd realize a new engine would be cheaper in the long run, and they'd make more money a lot faster too.

    And here I am, "fixing the engine" by her orders. I've "fixed" this engine countless times by now, and it still remains unable to reach the speeds Ann wants to go. "Theoretical top speed" does not mean what Ann wants it to mean. And that's the real problem isn't it?

    This isn't an engine problem, this is an Ann problem. I need to get rid of Ann don't I? Well that's a refreshing thought. How will I afford to eat though? I think I can handle hunger long enough to find a new captain. It's settled then, once we dock, I'll go in for "refreshments," and refuse to step back aboard this ship.

    "The engine needs repairs again, captain. We don't have the tools for it on board."

    "Again? Fine, all crew members prepare for orbital deceleration, we need to make an emergency stop."

    "Already?" The crew sounded throughout the ship.

    Let's hope we can find a decent repair bay. . .

The Snopig

    A hefty waddling sounded from the brush.

    "A snopig!" exclaimed Hjierfni. "I'll grab my gun!" he added as he ran to the back room where his guns and ammo were stored. Back in the front room, he sighted out the window, while Hjellna continued boiling water as to not disturb her husband.

    When the snopig bumbled into the open, Hjierfni shot it right in the side. The bullet simply disturbed the snow on its back, bounced off and flew into the distance. Snopigs are of course quite bouncy, so shooting one with a regular bullet wasn't going to work. Hjierfni dropped the gun and grabbed the net, but Hjellna commented "you aren't going to catch a snopig with a net, you aren't a boy anymore dear."

    Drat.

    The snopig waddled off down the road, and Hjierfni sighed. Boiled water and bread for dinner again.  The thought of it irritated him so much that he grabbed the net anyway, put on his skis, and slid down the hill to try and catch the creature.

    Hjierfni leaped upon the snopig, and was reminded again of the lesson he failed to learn the first time.  Snopigs are bouncy creatures, and so Hjierfni bounced off of it, into a tree. Minutes later, Hjellna came skiing down, and snatched the snopig by the hoof. She tied it up, and released Hjierfni from the tree.

    The couple returned home and cooked up the snopig. It was delicious, and Hjierfni, though humbled, was satisfied. They slept well and full for the first time in weeks and together looked forward to spring.

Winterfell's Key

    Winterfell charged up energy and unleashed a frostfire blast at Castle Smashwinter. It left a snowflake-shaped hole right in the middle of the wall, and minions could be seen scrambling back and forth inside.  Winterfell stalked up the path to the castle, ignoring all return fire aimed towards him; the minions were horrible shots.
    When he arrived at the front gate, Winterfell charged up more energy, and unleashed yet another frostfire blast, and then proceeded right through the snowflake-shaped hole in the gate. Upon arriving at the throne room, he found King Daintyflake shuddering in his underwear; the frostfire blast had singed all of his clothes off. It was not the attire you wanted to be left in while residing in a castle made of ice.

    Winterfell demanded the snowflake key that was rightfully his back. King Daintyflake was in no position to refuse, and he procured the key and tossed it to the intruder. With the key in hand, Winterfell made his exit, skating back down the path he came on frostfire skates.

Philerious

    Philerious stalked through the underbrush seeking the rescuer. Yes, of course, the rescuer would come.  How could he leave his comrade to an unknown fate. There he was. Follow, follow, follow. . . for now. Yes, all he had to do was follow this poor creature. Follow him and make sure he arrived at the facility unscathed, plump and juicy.  Delicious.
    But of course, the rescuer is a capable one, and only a minute after the alarm has begun sounding, he's begun escaping with his comrade and special pet. Next time, yes, next time. Next time, the rescuer and friends will become dinner. And next time there will be more haste. But for now, hungry. Yes, very hungry,

Dr. Edmund and the Patient

    "Greetings Edmund, I take it the journey was uneventful?" Ashton inquired of the doctor.
    "Hardly, Sir Weathermit, the crabs were the worst I've ever seen. How they climb upon a moving carriage is perplexing. Regardless, here I am. Where's the patient?"
    "Ah, I'm sorry to hear that. Right this way." Ashton replied, leading Dr. Edmund to Willapilna in the back room.
    "A fever you say?"
    "Erm, yes, and the foulest stench has filled the room."
    "Wonderful." The doctor replied. Whether it was sarcasm, Ashton wasn't sure.
    They entered the room, and the stench was in fact most foul, but Dr. Edmund proceeded. Upon inspection, he found Willapilna to be arching her back, and her neck deep into her pillow. The only noises she seemed to make were reminiscent of constipation, and so he proceeded to inspect her abdominal region. Her entire core was tense with clenching, and with permission he proceeded to inspect her rear. The cause was immediately apparent, and Dr. Edmond retrieved his reverse forceps.

    When the doctor stood back up, Willapilna's body immediately relaxed. In his hands Dr. Edmund held a crab. It had pinched Willapilna's rear end so tightly that she could only clench in response. It had nestled itself right between her and the sheets, and weeks of sitting there left it to reek.
Ashton looked at the doctor in astonishment.
    "I tell you Ashton. The crabs." The doctor said as he began cleaning up his instruments.

The Town Of Wonders

    Welcome to the Town of Wonders! Population: 3. . . if you can find them.

Splurtflurts Diner

    "Order up!" Uddleglung splurted out to the kitchen staff.

    "I got it, I got it! Quitcha yellin, bag." Bordlesngleh replied. He slopped back to the slime vats, scooped out three bowls worth, and slid them back to Uddleglung. She rolled her eyes at the crude face he made to her, then wriggled the bowls out to the customers.

    When Uddleglung returned to check on the customers, they commented extensively on how exquisite the slime was, and asked to speak to the chef. Surprised, Uddleglung returned to the kitchen and told Bordlesngleh the customers wanted to speak with him.

    "Leave me alone, bag!" he replied as he passed her on the way to the customers.

    "Are you the creator of this fine meal?" they asked.

    Bordelsngleh squinted his eyes and leered at them, "yeah. What's it to ya?"

    "Well, we own the restaurant down the street, Glopple's, and are in need of a new chef. Have you any interest in filling the role?"

    Bordlesngleh peered back at Uddleglung, then asked "You serve slime?"

    "Nothing but!" they replied. "And hopefully soon, the best!" They added, eagerly trying to sway Bordlesngleh towards their offer.

    The chef despised this place, and the bag of an owner was constantly annoying him. Taking this opportunity would let him finally get away from this place.

    "Slop off! You mold cakes. Go make your own slime!" Bordlesngleh said and made his way back to the kitchen. If Uddleglung was annoying, these two mold cakes were slime-curdling.

    "What did they say?" Uddleglung asked.

    "Shut up, bag!" Borldesngleh replied, getting back to his work.

Pluckin' Day!

    Happy Pluckin' Day from Uncle Plucker's Farm! Bring the kiddos on down for pluckin' great time!

    The kids can enjoy pluckin' their own chicken, or turkey, they get to decide! Once all the birds are plucked, we'll have fried chicken, and turkey drumsticks a plenty. Bring a sack for our "Make Your Own Pillow" activity. Then try your luck at the giblet toss or snag your good fortune at the wishbone station! (Note: Wishbones will be limited and will be distributed strictly on a first-come, first-serve basis. We don't want another Timmy Schmutkins year. . .)

    So come one come all to the Uncle Plucker's Farm's Plukin' Day Celebration y'all!

The Sun's Flower

    Summerville Valley experienced a cold like it had never experienced before. And with that cold came The Icicle, a ferocious fiend intent on destroying the valley. It hated summer and the sun, and so it flew through the air stabbing ice spikes through the homes and farms that lined the valley. Only one hero could stop the ravage of The Icicle.

    The Sun's Flower awoke from his slumber, startled by the chill. He stood up slowly to inspect the valley, and when he saw what was happening, a fire the strength of the sun itself came alive within him. The Sun's Flower shot into the air and burst into his flowerform. His head became wreathed in vibrant yellow petals, and giant sunflower heads enveloped his fists. A cape of spiny green leaves fluttered behind him, and he sought The Icicle.

    There.

    After destroying a particularly productive farm, the freezing foe was slammed to the ground by The Sun's Flower and shattered to pieces by his mighty fists. All the pieces then rose into the air and pointed towards their shatterer. As they shot towards him from all directions, he responded with his own barrage of sunflower seeds, further shattering each small icicle into ice dust.

    To ensure no further attacks, The Sun's Flower charged a giant ball of energy above him, and before any of the dust could flee or rejoin, the ball exploded in a blast of radiant energy, melting the ice dust, and all the snow from the valley. Warmth returned to the region, and the sun shone again on Summerville Valley. The Sun's Flower returned to his pot to rest. He sunk his roots down deep into the soil and basked in the sunlight that once again shone across his home.

Mr. Shmittigan's Two Cents

    "I'll give you my two cents" bellowed Mr. Shmittigan, always eager to offer advice to those uninterested in hearing it. Well little Alfred was an exception, and was himself eager to hear Mr. Shmittigan's two cents. Perplexed, the old man continued on, but he stammered, unsure of what to actually say since he was used to having to shush people up to listen first.
    "Well, the way I see it, you threw the newspaper right into Ms. Whatsitworth's face, and you owe her an apology. When she returns from the hospital, see that you're the first one to see her." Mr. Shmittigan said. 

    Then he subtly added "and after you do, see if you can put in a good word for this old guy. She's been playing hard to get for far too long, and it's about time I snag that catch."
    Little Alfred nodded excitedly, happy to finally have to good, solid advice for once. When Ms. Whatsitworth returned from the hospital, little Alfred was waiting on her stoop, and though she tried to ignore the little annoyance, he stood right in her way. She glared down at him "come to throw another newspaper at my face? Haven't you had enough!"
    "I just wanted to apologize Ms. Whatsitworth! Mr. Shmittigan told me I should apologize to you, so I did."
    "He did now did he? Well I appreciate the sentiment, and I suppose you're forgiven."
    "And one other thing. Mr. Shmittigan said he wants you to play snag the old guy with him, he's far too hard to catch."
    Ms. Whatsitworth was a proper lady, and held herself with great poise, but at the challenge offered to her that moment, she glared over at the old man. He was standing on his lawn, smiling and waving at her, and an instant later she was sprinting across her own lawn. Before Mr. Shmittigan realized what was happening, Ms. Whatsitworth shoulder checked him in the gut, knocking him to the ground.

    He lay there cross-eyed with the wind knocked out of him. She squatted over his torso and stared at him angrily until his eyes focused and simply uttered "tag." Then she walked away, regaining her posture, and entered her home.
    As Mr. Shmittigan found the strength to stand back up, he looked over to little Alfred walking on the sidewalk. Little Alfred simply winked at him and gave him a thumbs up. Mr. Shmittigan looked back over at Ms. Whatsitworth's house, and after a moment of eye contact through the window, she shut the curtains. Mr. Shmittigan returned to his home confused. He sat on the couch and pondered long and hard about whether he'd give his two cents to anyone again.

Caught Again by the Black-Caps

    Endless blackness stared at Holly from all directions as she sat in her ship, silently pondering what to do. The black-caps were cunning; they'd find her eventually. A trail of stockings undulated some distance in front of her; evidently, they'd already found her scent. They'd close in on her soon, so she needed to act.

    "Time to flee again" she said, and she ignited her Christmas boosters, spraying tinsel into space behind her and launching forward, past the trail of black-caps.

    They sensed her immediately and turned and followed her.

    "Only coal for you!" she could hear them chanting through her speakers.

    Black lumps shot past her, and some clipped her wings, but still she flew at top speed. They were relentless though, and eventually one, then another lump hit her boosters dead in the center, blocking each of them from providing any thrust. Her acceleration stopped, and she continued on her last path, frustrated at having been caught again by these wretched creatures.

    The stockings undulated next to her ship, and they "wrapped" her, and towed her all the way back underneath their capital tree to await prosecution. Completely blinded now, all she could hear was their awful cackling. They unwrapped her before the high judge. The "Big Man".

    He "Ho ho ho'd" terrifyingly before her, and without giving her a chance to defend herself, bellowed "SLEIGH DUTY!" Then laughed a maniacal laugh as the black-caps towed her back to the sleigh. Holly was tossed a mop and bucket, and got back to work scrubbing the wretched vehicle, and began plotting her next escape.

Amelia the Lace

    There's one thing you should know about the impending doom of the dragonkind. It approaches them from within. Centuries of greed and jealousy have corrupted their cores to a blackness that cannot be bleached clean.

    Save for one.

    Amelia the Lace.

    The only dragon to have turned to knitting, rather than the gluttonous collection of gold and consumption of pleasures. She alone will survive the inferno that sears the rest of her kind from within.  And when she is the last dragon remaining, she will clothe the Earth in white lace and keep it pure and white until the end of time.

The Mungalow

    The earth shakes and tree after tree falls to the Mungalow's powerful bite. With each step he turns his head sideway and snaps right through the trunk. He lies on the ground and catches the tree, then chomps on it longways until it disappears into his gut.

    Critters scurry at the Mungalow's coming, but they have nothing to fear. A Mungalow is naturally an herbivore, with a preference for the barky texture of freshly-chomped trees. Once he's full, he loves to run down to the nearest lake and splash. The unfortunate fish typically end up flying into the air, and many find themselves in the same stomach as the trees after he's taken a long draught of water.

    After a day of eating, splashing and drinking, he will be tired and ready for bed. He'll lie down in a cozy clearing, and under the moonlit sky, slowly turn to stone, leaving the land free for the next Mungalow to emerge.

The Honkey Car

    Down, down, down the Honky Car rolled, quickly approaching the ramp. Stands holding thousands of spectators aligned either side, and as the Honky Car launched off the ramp, they erupted in cheers. Just a cabin and four wheels, the Honky Car was fragile, but that was the point. It achieved maximum height with its light weight, and the passengers rocketed out of the roof at the apex.

    As they descended in their parachutes, the Honkey Car crashed into the wall of the North Plateau on the other side of the gorge. Another round of applause sounded from the stands at the explosion. Every week this would repeat until they could consistently land the Honkey Car on the North Plateau, and even then, the tradition would likely continue. It'd become a staple part of the citizens lives in Arid Twelve by now.