LNH: A Journey 2 the Mind of the Seemingly Unstable

Tarq mitchell_crouch at caladrius.com.au
Sun Nov 12 00:54:00 PST 2006




Contempo Weapons Lad, trapped in his own mind, looked up at the
vegetable on the stack.

.o( I need to get of here), he thought urgently, .o( I need to get out

Suddenly, the massive carrot stood up, and began to walk down. CWLad
felt as though something important was about to happen. The carrot had
arms and legs, but no eyes, mouth, or nose.

The massive carrot boomed through its lack-of-mouth, "I have waited
here for a century! Your heathen idea of 'God' created your world in a
week, and thus shall I destroy it in a week!" The carrot stepped
forward with its skinny, stick-like leg.

"Uuh... sorry, but I don't remember --"

"Okay, fine, we'll get this out of the bag. My name is Ka'rot, Lord of
the Wejtabyls, and I have come to take your mind out!"

"I'm _terribly_ sorry, but I don't particularly appreciate --"

"Bad luck! I wrote... y'know, that book?"

"Say what now?"

"The one on being bad, y'know, the prequel to _502 Practical Uses for
Lace_. Never mind, never mind, I am Ka'rot the Master!"

A plan was forming in Contempo Weapons Lad's mind... but he'd need some
sort of... bait...

Ka'rot pointed up at the hole from whence CWLad had come, up at the
approaching dusk. "Up there, right now," he gloated, "is an
apocalyptically-proportioned spider."

There was a silence before Contempo Weapons Lad slowly responded,

"Well, it was the closest thing I could find to a Turtle of Apocalyptic
Proportions, and the only real difference was the tail..."

CWLad decided that, no matter how vegetable Ka'rot's body was, his
brains were definitely made out of dough. He chuckled as he remembered
splattering Billy's brains all over his desk. He really had loved
reliving his past.

However, he couldn't think of anything in his past to copy. Nothing to
copy to save himself, to prevent Ka'rot from turning him into a ghost.
He felt as though he had an incurable lung tumour, and Ka'rot was his

Ka'rot raised a fist and brought it down, splattering a nearby rock
with Contempo Weapons Lad's blood. CWLad fell back against said rock,
and looked up at the rising moon. Ka'rot's pure punching prowess had
the power of a North Core.ean bomb.

The Lord of the Wejtabyls brings his hand up again, and when he brings
it back down, Contempo Weapons Lad knows sudden peace.

Oh, no -- he was wrong. Just a particularly sensitive spot underneath
his fluorescently-coloured cap. Now _that_ was what he called a fashion

Ka'rot hit him graphically and often, and CWLad began to involuntarily
squirm. He reached around for something to fight back with, and felt a
tremendous amount of relief as he fingers closed around a branch.

He brought it up superhumanly quickly, and Ka'rot found himself looking
straight at the point.

The giant carrot bit the sharp end off with his lack-of-mouth, and
spat, "What, would you like a wreath? A prize?"

.o ( I have to do something, anything, quick! )

Contempo Weapons Lad began juggling debris like a clown.

Ka'rot frowned, and murmured, "I think I hit you in the head one too
many times, I think, I think."

Contempo Weapons Lad convinced himself that he needed to do _something
else_, and thus ripped off his vest. "My mind," he muttered
discontentedly, "is somewhat short of a blessing."

Ka'rot nodded in comradely agreement, and intoned, "Yeah, I'd say your
skull's fair thick."

"Thick like paper?"

The Lord of All Wejtabyls shook his head, and said, "It's time I
informed you that you, in my grand plan for world domination, are
naught but a puppet."

"I would rather be a puppet than a pumpkin! Wait, wrong orange
vegetable... you know... uuh... not the one with the peel..."

"I'm a carrot, you idiot, see the little green thing on top? Anyway,
that's completely beside the point -- I'm going to put your soul in a
bottle - "

Contempo Weapons Lad gagged on his breath. "Wait, what, you collect
souls like some sort of soul-collector collector of soully soul
collector soul... collect?"

Ka'rot pulled out a bottle, and suddenly Contempo Weapons Lad found
himself in an even deeper abyss. The squeezy sauce bottle was back,
screaming angrily at him, "Give me a squeeze! I'm reaching my life's
limit!" Then it began changing colours rapidly, like some sort of
hormonal chameleon.

The colours flashed all around him, and it reminded him of the diamond.
Was there actually some sort of pattern here, some sort of song, some
sort of chorus? The squeezy bottle began to fade in glory.

"Uuh... sorry..." stumbled Contempo Weapons Lad as he began to squeeze
his only companion, "I, uh... don't often..."

The young four-colour shot life back into the squeezy bottle, like some
sort of life-shooting gunfighter. CWLad felt something strengthen
within him, too -- he felt strong, and invincible, like a brick. Felt
like, that morning, he's eaten his oats.

"I ain't gunna quit!"

His fists balled into weapons of stone. His eyes were hard and cold. He
knew that, for all intents and purposes, he was already dead. His pale
flesh was crushed under the bodies of his team mates, the blood mixing
in to make him look oddly pink.

He felt the breath escape his material lips, final and sweet. He felt
his fingers twitch inside his glove.

And the fear of the chasm no longer dominated him -- he dominated the

"Gosh darn vegetable!"


First off, thanks goes to Saxon Brenton's Looniversal Gazetteer for the
name of the Looniverse's North Korea. No thanks to Saxon himself, of
course, just the Gazetteer.  :-)

Well, I think that, in general, it's better than my (second) first
attempt, even if it gets unfriendly. What's more, I was able to
effectively enough pull off a George Lucas, leaving room for an
exciting third installment! Heck, if you crazy kids are lucky enough, I
might even hand you a prequel trilogy. No Jar Jar, I promise.

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