Chapter 6: Count Berker...the Awesome

Count Berker was having a rather splendid morning. Waking at the bright hour of two in the afternoon, he sat in bed and stared into the black darkness of his quarters before leaping over the rails the top bunk of his bunked bed. The Count did not have a roommate, but he rather enjoyed being able to sleep on the top bunk and so he had commanded his subjects to build him an extravagant bunked bed. He clapped his hands, compelling light to cover the features of his large quarters with a dim, gloomy light. Slipping on his bright-blue woosii slippers and donning his drab-purple morning robe, he raced to the opposite end of his colossally-sized room and gazed impressively at his reflection in the mirror. He practiced poses in the mirror before standing still and examining his identical likeness. The man staring back at him had a long face with smallish, keen-brown eyes. His rather prominent nose, which gradually ended in a point three inches from his face, was notched and erratic in places as it had been broken at least thrice, though he couldn’t remember exactly how many times. His face was rough, but somehow handsome. He smiled at himself, showcasing teeth that were slightly less than perfect. His hair was grey and balding at the top, and the little hair he had was standing on end sideways and behind him, making for a rather “exciting” hairdo, in the Count’s opinion. He was a tall, lanky man, standing about six feet three inches short. This handsome genius couldn’t be much older than forty he thought to himself. Liking what he saw, he leaped across the room and threw himself onto the tire swing hanging in the middle of his room. He tested the limits of his vocal chords singing incoherent opera loudly, spinning in circles, clinging to the tire swing. Letting the tire swing slow its pace of turns, he sighed in content before dismounting in a hurry. He quickly voided the spam between himself and his large desk and came to a sudden stop beside his large misfit periscope which stretched upwards a quarter mile, just enough to break the surface of the Lake Bloik which was located in the heart of the Epic Village of Bob. The top of the periscope was disguised as a lipsok, a mere stroke of cleverness on the side of the Count who very much “unwanted” attention on the part of literally anyone. Count Berker often contented himself by observing the going-ons of Bob and then plotting how to best inconvenience the citizens of the town he loathed. He loathed many things, including peanut butter, sarcasm, clowns, garden gnomes, and of course people in general. Seating himself on his massive wheeled armchair, he peered into the lenses of his periscope and gasped at what he saw. There were people everywhere, strolling about, minding their own business. Is this world going MAD? he exclaimed in his mind although he already knew the answer was resounding “yes.” The snow was falling ever so lightly, making for a fairly romantic walk for the couples making their way down the sidewalk which encircled the lake. Under a large tree was a school teacher encircled by a group of ten-year-olds who were all talking and pointing about and at completely unrelated things all at once, much to the objections of their exasperated teacher who was trying to teach them the fundamental differences between a polkk tree and a typatra tree.

The Count threw his head back and cackled a quite rehearsed maniac laugh, and then focused again on Bob, giggling. He focused on a young man sitting on a bench next to the lake and studied him intently. This man was a skinny, spectacled one—the Count calculated he couldn't be much older than twenty-three-and-a-half. This man was simply sitting, looking glumly at the water's surface and this annoyed the Count almost as greatly as the happy couples did. Get up and move already, thought the Count impatiently. After a few minutes, the Count concluded that the "boy" must have been depressed as a direct result of his most boring apparel. Yawning most loudly, the Count concluded that his animosity towards boring people was almost as pointed as his animosity for thumbtacks.
            The Count was bored and he felt like the epic village above him was growing extremely arrogant for a people who lived a mere half-mile above an evil genius. "I will show them to fear the name of Count Berker!!!" he shouted aloud to mostly himself as a morale booster. “But,” he said, “How should I do it?" He again peered into the lenses of his periscope and again focused on the man sitting on the bench. The man, however, seemed almost happy now, causing the Count to gag on his tongue in disgust. "MAKE UP YOUR MIND!!" shouted the Count in anger, “You people change your emotions like a CONFOUNDED STOPLIGHT!!!” Clearly annoyed, the Count continued, “In a perfect world, you pathetic people would be absolutely emotionless, APATHETIC I SAY!!" Then the Count paused, taking in the full brilliancy of his ramblings. A wicked smile hijacked his lips, causing them to curl up around the edges. He slid across the room on his armchair, coming to a solid halt after crashing in the wall opposite him, summoning the airbags he had installed to prevent injury. As one might have guessed, the Count was not a much practiced armchair driver, resulting in broken bones almost daily until the Count, in rage, had ordered his subjects to install airbags. The Count climbed out of his now inflated armchair and shook a bony finger at the wall that had greeted him so lovingly. "BWAHHAAAAHAHAAAHA! YOU DIDN”T GET ME THIS TIME YOU IDIOT WALL!!! BWA!!” With that, the Count stalked to his mirror, and after straightening his hair into its normal position of chaos, he smiled to himself. “Berker, you ARE a genius,” he said fondly of himself, “and a quite handsome one at that.” With that he strode to the intercom microphone mounted on the desk and broadcasted loudly, “Heeeeellooooo my minions! This is your handsome, brilliant…humble…and yes, handsome Count speaking. I, your Awesome, kind, and gorgeous leader have an announcement to make. Assemble into the GREAT Hall in one hour!” And with that, the Count, went to dress.

To Be Continued…

Credit: Tom K

Chapter 5: Horace

                Horace was having a rather bad day.  His boss wasn’t going to be happy. It had all started when Horace was elected by his fellow henchmen to safeguard the Berker’s plans of evilness while it was to rendezvous at the fortress under Bob itself. These plans were top secret and ultimately more valuable than any of the henchmen combined—it would be better to stub one’s toe on a hillocrate than to lose these plans. Somehow Horace had managed to do both. Now the plans we being digested by a rather small hippo.

                Horace was a rather largish man who wasn’t the brightest among many at all. While not so generous in the brains department, Horace’s intentions were generally good. He was amenable, meaning easily manipulated, which was how he had come to be employed by the Berker. His lot in life was to serve the Berker with all his strength in return for three servings of porridge a day and a warmish place to sleep. He didn’t understand most of the plots that Berker conceived, but he would do everything he could to make sure that his boss was happy, for he liked to make people happy, especially the Berker. He aspired to become a borker someday, but he had been told that he wasn’t amusing enough for such a position.

                One morning, while Horace was washing the Berker’s rubber ducks, he heard approaching from behind him muddled footsteps and heavy breathing. He turned about, wiping his hands on the apron strung across his formidably sized waist, and saw Neviel sprinting awkwardly towards him. Neviel confused Horace—Neviel was a tall, skinny boy, who couldn’t have been much older than seventeen.  He was a slender, wired-haired boy that hadn’t quite figured out how to effectively use his limbs, resulting in many accidents involving arms wildly springing into action without being summoned or legs deciding to move in opposite directions of each other. Neviel was definitely on the Berker’s “List,” as nothing was safe in his presence. The only reason Neviel had not already been thrown out of a high-storied building was actually two reasons. The first reason: he was a practical closet-genius who had invented many great gizmos and what-cha-ma-call-its for the Berker. Reason number two: he served as a half-decent messenger for the Berker himself, who reacted to every whim and thought that crossed his mind and hence kept at least three messengers busy at any given time.

                Neviel skid to a prolonged stop when he reached Horace. Attempting to speak and catch his breath all at once, Neviel blurted, “His Awesomeness—gasp—may he live for years, has summoned you to be present as he assigns tasks to his subjects—gasp, pant, pant—You must come quickly!” “Oh dear, I forgot,” mumbled Horace and he trudged quickly, hoping that the Berker wouldn’t be angry if he was only ten minutes early. Horace entered the assembly hall and was greeted by a great silence, which had befallen because the Berker was impending. He stood in rank in the front, and waited.

                He yawned as the minutes passed, and his thought process began to become more sleepy than usual. He was standing in formation with all the men of Berker’s (or Count Berker as the Berker liked to refer to himself as), waiting for the large purple curtains before them to part and for the Count to stride out of his bedroom for the morning briefings. The Count was obsessed with objects of that portrayed his supposed royal-ness, and so his possessions reflected rich though oft-musty taste. As Horace began to let his mind wonder, the curtains began to spread, and out from behind them, strode Count Berker. 

To Be Continued...

Credit:Tom K

Chapter 4: Kia Mud

Hello. I am secret agent Kia Mud. I am a hippo. My cover name is Mudge.  I currently reside in a cage. The cage in which I am so cruelly forced to live in is rather sturdy. My laser gun cannot melt the lock. I am now recording my story  of how I came to be here on my electronic recorded journal. If you are listening to this, you will spontaneously combust in a matter of minutes. My current mission is so top secret I can not reveal it even you, my dear ERJ. My cover is a faithful hippo pet to one named Hiemleck. I am Mudge to him. I eat as normal hippos do. I sleep in the bed Hiemleck has given me, and I give him the attention needed. When he is busy, I do my work. I report daily to my headquarters via a source untold.

Hiemleck has been acting quite weird lately. His adornment of boisterous clothes and hairdos has made me wonder. I have reported all this to the head of the Bureau of Unobvious Surveillance who had advised me to watch him carefully. I must make sure he is not part of Berker's evil plan. That's what I'm here to stop. This past afternoon as Hiemleck went out on an odd unplanned walk, I conducted a thorough search of his living room, an action that proved to be most...revealing. You see, I found the Berker's master plan--under the floor boards! Upon finding it, I ate it immediately, nom nom. I am very confused concerning Hiemleck. I really didn't think he was involved in this whole mess. But I am currently contemplating the likelihood of the theory that the plans were placed in Heimleck's house without him knowing. I think he could very well have been set up.

Anyway, back to eating the plans. Even as a hippo, they were very hard for me to digest. Talk about papery dryness. Gack! After devouring the master plans I preceded to clean up the mess. I did not want Hiemleck to suspect anything. And then the doorbell rang. I being the gorgeous, faithful watch-hippo, did not answer it. The door handle jiggled. I grunted. The door swung open. I feigned an attempt to faint but was stopped becau...Oh great. Someone is here. Gotta go. Over and out from Agent Kia Mud.


Credit: Ellen K. Smith

Chapter 3: The Happening

Six past Thirteen. This is what Hiemleck’s watch read as he glanced nervously at it. Hiemleck was pacing, not quite sure of what to do with himself. He found pacing to preoccupy his body and calm his mind, which were both overrun by nerves.  He was waiting, as he was to meet someone, though he didn’t know whom with or what exactly to expect.  As he waited, he entertained second thoughts, thoughts which were beginning to make his present situation seem irrational. How had he gotten into this mess anyway? He asked himself this question, and as he did, he recalled:

            You see, dear Hiemleck had days prior determined that he was an absolutely extraordinary being, and he loathed this fact. Attempting more than twice to change his appearance by means of fancy hair products and colorful clothes, Hiemleck received in return nothing but perplexed looks from Mudge. One day, after a particularly stressful event involving noodles, Hiemleck decided that he would go and take a walk to clear his head. He stood up abruptly, startling Mudge, as she was taking her afternoon nap. Fashioning his dull grey shoes, he walked out the door, leaving Mudge looking about in bewilderment, with slight bed-head on her right side.

            He toured Bob, gazing up in awe at the incredible heights of the large skyscrapers that made up the urban center of Bob. Above, the air-driven hover-buses wove their way busily throughout the tall buildings, each racing to drop off their passengers so that they could pick up more. Though it was referred to as a village, this urban bright-spot was definitely anything but such. With millions of citizens taking settlement within its large boundaries, the Epic Village of Bob was one of the largest cities in the Northern Hemisphere.

The initial developers of Bob named the town after the man who had obliviously discovered a plethora of precious metals when he accidently uncovered them trying to bury his shovel. Bob was not the brightest among any, but after a large metal refining company manipulated him and eventually stole the metals from him, the local religious group insisted that Bob be given naming rights to the town in which was founded atop his discovery. The developers, relieved that stricter measures were not suggested, hurriedly agreed to these terms and named the city the Epic Village of Bob, an inside joke which mocked Bob’s intelligence.

Hiemleck had studied this story many times before and was amused that the religious group hadn’t demanded anything sterner. Catching himself smiling, he continued on his way.

He soon found himself walking along a large lake within the city’s park. He stopped at a park bench and overlooked the lake, marveling at how the waves reflected the light radiating from the Incredibly Ginormous Star. He watched the gliopis as they swam lazily upon the water’s surface, splashing each other with their long, colorful wings. He watched the clever little woosii as they bustled through the leaves in search of nuts and other small artifacts. He found himself at peace, something he hadn’t been associated with for weeks. He yawned, looking at his watch. It read seven after three, and he stood up with intentions of going home, as Mudge needed to be fed. As he walked that way, he remembered that he was out of his favorite hand soap, and so he detoured and walked into the local supermarket.

 He walked through the door a few hours later, experiencing difficulties reclosing the door again as he had entered with large paper sacks in both of his arms. After trying in vain for a few seconds, Hiemleck abandoned these efforts and carried the sacks into his room, leaving the front door open.

            In his room, he laid down the large paper sacks and began rummaging through them and setting each item out for display on his bed. After he had neatly organized these items, he turned and examined his room. Though it was his primary sleeping quarters, his room closely mimicked a library. It was a smallish, tidy room, with a raised ceiling that reached two floors up. The ceiling itself was glass, so that Hiemleck could admire the night sky at night while he rested. Completely hiding one wall was his tall bookcase, which stretched from floor to ceiling. On the wall opposite door and directly to the left of the bookcase was a thin ladder which lead up to his bed, which was located on a cut-out platform midway up the wall. Up on this platform, his bed and side table were positioned cozily best exploit the scenery of the night sky. Stationed in the center of the room was a cozy reading chair behind a large desk. Both the chair and the desk were positioned with their backs to the bookcase, facing a large window which overlooked the Epic Village of Bob and its surroundings. His bedroom accommodated everything that Hiemleck enjoyed in life: books and the surrounding nature.

Hiemleck turned now to the large mirror positioned on the wall with the door. He examined himself and was saddened by what he saw. In the mirror staring back at him was a smallish man, with nothing absolutely exciting going about his features. His hair was faded brown but cleanly cut and combed neatly. His eyes were dark, staring through round spectacles and overshadowed by large straight eyebrows. His face was leaning on the side of pale, with slight splashes of red color on his cheeks and lips. His throat showcased a rather prominent Adam’s apple, a feature he loathed. His body was small, and the most intimidating feature about it was his large hands. His scrawny arms hung loosely by at his sides. He was a few inches short of average height and so he wore on occasion shoes in which elevated him, and thus his height.

Taking off his spectacles, he looked at the items that he had purchased at the store. There were various items he had found that interested him, and he was pleased with his findings.  

He walked into the kitchen, and began to make dinner. Collecting the various ingredients needed to make qualupace, as it was one of his and Mudge’s favorite dishes, he began to prepare the various ingredients. As he mixed these ingredients, he called Mudge, as it was customary that Mudge would set the table. “Mudge darling,” he called, but after a few minutes, but there was no answer. Not wanting to burn the dish, he called again, louder this time. He paused and then decided to hazard burning his dish. He walked into the living room, where she had been napping, and almost fell down as he took in his surroundings. His living room was destroyed. The tables and couches had been toppled over, the curtains were shredded, and the piano had been destroyed. There were debris of furniture and smoldering burnt patches in the carpet. A whole section of the room had been torn out, and Mudge's armchair had been crushed by something large. Sitting in the center of the room was a large boot that smelled of unpleasant things. Hiemleck fell to his knees, Mudge was gone.                      


To be continued


Credit: Tom K