Wherein Lies Utter Foolishness
by WhiteKnight, Thedude3445, and Steelix100000000000000000000
“Alright, what now?”
Stan lowered his gun and turned to his partner with a look of bafflement. “What do you mean, ‘what now’? We’ve gone over this plan for a damn near month by now.”
Ryan shook his head, mumbling nothings so that he at least looked like he was thinking. “birthday tango lepton dance…,” He had no clue how they were going to get out of this jam alive. He grit his teeth until they scraped against each other and grabbed the nearest thing he could find. Without thinking, he tossed it at Stan. It was a plushie. Stan screamed in terror as the soft fabric bounced off his head, for this marked his demise. One moment was all it took for the perp to pump him full of hot lead.
This is not Stan’s story. This is not Ryan’s story either. Rather, this is the story of one mad woman’s quest to get just the right designer bag, at any cost. It all started on one hot winter day. Hot because it was in East Africa. Too hot for Petra Smalls, at any rate. But she knew, deep down in her heart, that once she got her hands on just the right designer bag, everything would change. Men would fawn over her, money would find its way into her wallet, and thousands of other custom clothes and accessories would be hers. All that stood in her way were the law and thousands of other women seeking the same power. However, that day, she struck from the list of blockades the law. No longer would she let mere words stop her ultimate quest. That is when she decided to enlist them.
Three small plushies, none more than a half-meter tall, sat in chairs around a roundtable outside the bar inside the mall in the suburbs of the city in East Africa. One of them was smoking a large cigar, while the others were playing some sort of game with their cards.
“Five of diamonds,” said Captain Troublesprout. “Your move, Bub.”
“Captain, what game are we even playing?” Bub asked, scratching his plush rump. But Captain Troublesprout merely tapped his cigar in response.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Looks like we have a customer.” He flicked his cigar out into the floor, right next to where Petra stood. “You rang, missy?” She returned his polite greeting with a devilish grin and a swift snatching of his fluffy head.
“Indeed, I did.” She fixed her curly hair, twirling it around a little before she made her request. “I want it.” The three plushies gasped in unison.
“Wait,” Bub interrupted. “Which it? There’s like, forty of the dang things.”
“Oh,” Petra mumbled weakly, carrying none of the sureness she met the plushes with. “I meant, ah… the bag.”.
“Which bag?” The three rasped in unison.
“The, ah… the popularity one… It’s d-designer…”
“That one,” Trogdilpie wheezed, “is quite special. Our services will be… costly, to say the least, Miss. You did come here knowing that, right?”
“Of course!” She squealed, her previously lost conviction gushing back. “I robbed 3 banks for this occasion!”
“Meh. I’ve seen a lot more drive than that, and we cost much more than you have, I can already say that.” Captain Troublesprout shrugged and turned towards the other plushies and their game of cards. Out of nowhere he pulled out another cigar and lit it. A moment or two later he noticed Petra still had not left, and turned back around, puffing a ring of smoke that hit her face. “Did you hear me? Are ya deaf?”
“Let me tell you the names of the banks I robbed,” Petra proclaimed, almost commanding. “First National. J.P. Morgan Chase One. Knox Minor. And I hit up Great Zimbabwe National just for kicks.”
Captain Troublesprout nearly dropped his cigar. “Lady, that is some kind of messed up. You might just be the kind of monster that can contend for the bag.”
“I most certainly am.” She crossed her arms and raised her left eyebrow. “
lol guys I’m not dead yet
Who said that?
Suddenly the authors began battling furiously for control over the tale with their wordfists!
“I want to make this a romantic comedy!” Said Thedude3445, who put several fingers on the keyboard and began punching away.
Captain Troublesnout- sprout you fool! Forget not the name of the cast!- and Petra looked at each other with a passion they had only just realized for each other. Petra really liked that cigar, man was it sexy. Probably as big as–
“What are you doing tonight, lady?” the plushie asked.
“Just looking for someone to help me get this purse I want.”
“Then I’m just the guy you’re looking for.” Troublesprout put down his cigar and stepped towards Petra. She began towards him as well.
A cry of “Mom!” split the air in two, and Petra turned horrified to see her darling little Sherman staring at her, eyes pulsing with disappointment and fury. “Why are you talking to these crooks? I want my birthday cake already!”
“Sweetie, Mommy’s in the middle of something very important right now,” said Petra, head trapped between her shoulders upraised. “Go wait outside with the shopping cart.” Sherman sucked on his teeth and did as he was told.
Troublesprout stared his ‘customer” down, giving her a deep, piercing look-down. “What the heck is this, lady? You wanna risk more life and limb than your own for this bag and you got a kid on your shoulders? You’re sick, lady. Sick.
“Perfectly sick,” he snarled.
White Knight twiddled his thumbs, waiting for his compatriot-rival in word-arms to meet his challenge.He took far too long, having been playing Paper Mario 2 on his Nintendo® Gamecube©. WK foolishly scoffed at his affection for such a wonderful game, and was promptly crushed by a mountain of Cross-Yuxes.
How come you don’t want to write this story the way I want to write it, then, huh?
Because I want to write it the way I want to write it. It’s like some kind of karezi screwaround bullshit. The perfect troll romcom duo. This is just like that probably fake college assignment of the story done by a boy and a girl stuck flipping between a guy writing about an alien war and a girl writing about a date. Are you a girl, TD?
I am a girl, WK. That doesn’t matter though. Do you want to write this thing or not? But it has to be done the way I want it. No other way.
But utter foolishness : (
I don’t care about your utter foolishness. You know what? We’re the fools here. And this is wherein we lay. It is us.
I can agree to that. Unfortunately, I doubt the reader can. Sorry, chap.
Petra swooned at Troublesnout’s sheer charm. The way he rolled his r’s made her legs quiver with longing, and she stepped to the plushie once more. “No, you are the perfect one. I would be glad to discuss more of your plan over dinner.”
“Aight.” And so it was.
That night, Petra got to the agreed-upon place early. It was a ritzy restaurant in a bad part of town, but it sure was flashy. She swallowed at the sight of the singing, dancing showgirls inside. Once she had the bag they would be absolutely nothing compared to her. All the guys’ eyes would be on her, showering her in glorious praise, gifts, attention, maybe even their love. The thought coaxed a sigh out of her. How wonderful things would be then!
Plushies really are the best, she thought as she walked through the restaurant, not realizing that only feet behind her, there was a teddy bear just waiting to snipe her head off. But we knew, because we were the audience. Well not me. I’m the writer. Seriously, have you even been paying attention?
Move, Petra, Move! We can’t go on without you!
“What?” Petra shouted out to no one in particular. That was strange. But it was enough to get her to turn around, flustering the teddy bear who quickly hid his gun in his trenchcoat. Wait, why is a teddy bear wearing a trenchcoat in the middle of the summer? Doesn’t he already have a ton of plush fur?
Steelix, do you suggest any plot developments that would be interesting here? I mean we have this here teddy bear, but why is he attacking? We should have figured this out before adding it…
Steelix isn’t here you doof! Unless you want to pretend she is…
That’s exactly what we have to do.
Hi I’m Steelix! And I approve this message!
Hey buddy do you want to RP right now? I have a new touhou OC I wanna give a spin.
You know it!
Oh but we should really bring this into AIM before it looks like a pre-y2k script fanfic.
Y2K? I wasn’t even born yet!
You’re 17 years old! This isn’t the year 2030! I’m not an old coot!
Isn’t it weird? People born in the year 2000 are going to be in HIGH SCHOOL next year…
I bet some already are.
A sudden soft tapping on her legs alerted Petra to the Captain’s presence. She turned and looked down at her date, who said, “Evenin’, toots. You got your end?”
He shook his booty. “Yep!”
Petra was unsure if she should open the door for her tiny date or pick him up to let him open it for her, but another couple did so for them as they left in a hurry. She quickly found seats and set Troublesprout on his. A waitress was quick to greet them, and asked for their order.
“Cotton fluff, on the heavy side,” said the Captain, patting his round belly.
“I’ll have the chili,” Petra noted, “and water.” She noticed the trenchcoat teddy bear make his own quiet entrance to the joint, but lost him amid the tables three times his height.
“And I’ll have the cigar soup,” said Troublesprout. Whatever that is. Thedude, why do you come up with the strangest stuff?
I don’t even know.
Hi I’m Steelix!
Petra felt a cold hand. Wait, no she didn’t. –Stupid WhiteKnight– She felt a WARM hand. Vaguely warm, anyway. She turned her body around and saw the trenchcoat teddy bear once again.
“Pssssst.” The teddy bear motioned at her to come closer. “I have a secret that I’m willing to tell only you. I’m a male teddy bear but I actually have female reproductive parts. They only added me to the cast so they could say they were being Trans Positive. Don’t trust them.”
“Them?”
“Them.”
And we never saw him again…
“Who the heck was that?” Troublesprout demanded. “Your hired muscle?””
“Oh no, I don’t use such things,” said Petra. Some weirdo talking about a ‘Them,’ that I can’t trust, whatever that could mean.” (Don’t say weirdo in relation to a character that is transgender! That could mean trouble if this ever leaks out to the radical LGBT community!)
(the radical tumblr community mirite)
(No don’t say that!!!)
“It means bad,” Troublesprout growled. “They’re already watching you,” and me by extension, he thought. “Watch what you say and do.” Petra nodded, only peeking around and centering on her date every couple of minutes before the food arrived, Troublesprout checking her out top to bottom all the while. He tried to ease her fears with a grin and a soft growl. It must have worked if it brought a giggle and a smile out of her every time.
WK realized his romance writing muscles were woefully inadequate but there was no time better than the present to exercise them. He wondered if TD could do any better and realized that they were already halfway done with this page. He prayed that he didn’t miss the next page break.
He then realized that TD was a crafty fiend who added content to the middle of the page to confound him. Well done good person, well done. And lo and behold, in defending the ravenous hounds of Tumblr, Once more it was done.
We’re going to get massacred.
And so they did. The authors were mercilessly killed by rabid dogs, the likes of which man has never seen and may never see again, because they are way too vicious and kill anyone who sees them so nobody who sees them can tell anyone anything about them because they are dead. Not us though. Dear reader you are safe from the troubles of these rabid dogs.
Meanwhile, Petra and Troublesprout enjoyed their dinner, both finding it difficult to start their business. By the time the plush had finished his soup, not a single word about the Bag or the Procedure had been exchanged. “We should probably take this somewhere more… private,” he suggested.
“I would love to,” said Petra. She hurriedly finished her chili, paying for the dinner, and follow the Captain’s directions to his car, a surprisingly large mini-cooper decked out with a chrome sheen and bull horns on the hood. Petra “Ooh!”-ed, covering her mouth and smile. Something about Troublesprout’s sense of style tickled her, brought out more of her desire, but she kept her mind on business.
Business is exactly what Troublesprout was keeping his mind on, as well. Before he entered his vehicle, he pulled out a tommy gun and shot down an unsuspecting sniper. His name was Jared. And now he was gone.
“Petra, let’s go make a pit stop, alright?” Troublesprout now asked.
“Fine with me,” she said. As long as it got her the purse she didn’t care.
A few minutes and more than a few shady neighborhoods later, the mini-cooper stopped in front of an inconspicuous house. “Wait here,” the plushie said. “This is the house of that sniper I blasted. I used to know’em. Too bad he picked the wrong target… I’ll be back in just a minute.” Petra checked her cell phone. Reception wasn’t terrible here; Africa is fairly good about having coverage, but it was as slow as molasses on a snail on a sloth on a glacier. That is to say, it’s kind of slow, but for some reason it’s on top of a bunch of things. Amazon finally loaded and she took a peek at the prices for her purse once again… Wow, only 82 million dollars. Price’s going down, and fast.
There was a tap on Petra’s door. She opened it and lifted Troublesprout up and placed him in the driver’s seat. “Thank ya.”
“Welcome.”
“I was right about it, though. Seems someone placed a hit on you, girl.”
“Oh really?” Petra realized all that bank robbing had finally caught up to her. She should have been more careful in killing every single witness.
“Yep. Seems there’s a massive price on your head. 82 million dollars.”
A metaphorical lightbulb appeared over her head. “Troublesprout. Can you kill me?” she asked.
Troublesprout spit out his newly-lit cigar. “Wh–what?”
“See, the purse I want is just as much as the bounty on my head. So I need people to at least think I’m dead so you can get the money and then give it to me so I can buy the purse!”
“Ah, that’s a nah to that, miss!” Troublesprout wasn’t having none of this.
“You’re saying you wouldn’t hit that?” Petra asked. “That being me?”
“Ah, the good old euphemism,” he said. “I’ll tell ya what. If you give me 25%, I’ll make an assassination so convincing your own mother’ll think you’re dead.”
“I killed my mother and stole all her jewelry.”
“It was a figure of speech, Petra.” Petra nodded, and they shook hands on the deal. She was going to get that purse, no matter what.
However, little did they know, but one man was sitting in a car across the street, just like they were, watching them discretely…
“Stan,” Ryan said into his radio. “I have a confirmation.”
“What is it?” Stan’s groggy voice signaled back. “It’s like 3 in the morning.”
“He went to Jared’s, Stan. He went to Jared’s.” Ryan turned off the radio, as Stan knew exactly what that meant. It was time to put this plan into action.
“So long, old buddy,” whispered Ryan, clutching a couple of small stones – Ice and the Rock – in his vest. He emerged from a van on the others side of the block, rocking his best black suit, tie, shades, and automatic weapon. He got some strange looks from the neighborhood kids and parents, but they didn’t dare keep staring once they saw the star-shaped insignia on his vest.
Back in the car, Petra and Troublesprout were busy making the kissy kissy. Petra had to hold him in her arms while they made out, though, so it was very strange. It only lasted for a couple minutes before they resumed their previous actions.
“Okay, now that that’s over,” Troublesprout said. “We need to get down to business. We’ve gotta assassinate you for money. Now how will we be doin’ that is still what I’m thinkin’.”
“You could just drive this car off a bridge and put a dummy in there that looks like me, and film the whole thing.”
“Naw, once they recovered the car they’d find it’s not you.”
“I really just want to see this story finished,” TD, now a ghost after being killed by rabid dogs, said. WK didn’t respond for a really, really long time. So long that the narrator grew old and died and they had to get a new one. Would we ever be able to find out how Troublesprout and Petra pulled off their heinous plot? Or were they unsuccessful in their endeavor to get that bag?
It was a mystery that we all yearned to know, though less so now that the story had become so convoluted and confusing due to author interruptions such as this one. And I guess I can’t say “we” in this case, I guess you, the readers. Or reader. I’ve got no clue how many people will read this.
WK took one look at TD’s delusions and let loose an adoring sigh. “How precious. Well, time to clean this up. An ending is an ending, after all.” After being distracted by a Cosmo speedrun, advice on what kind of gift to get for the girl he liked and browsing other shops, WK set out upon this gargantuan task.
Petra found herself struck by magnificence. “Why don’t we just lure some competitors into a shootout, dress up one of the bodies like me, and claim the bag money that way?”
“That’s a stupid idea,” Troublesprout immediately replied. Shaking his head he continued, “The coroner would have to be a complete doof to fall for that.”
“Or be in on it,” said Petra with a wink.
“What if he tries to backstab us?”
“We kill him. That hasn’t stopped us before, right?”
“That depends, sugar-buff. Has anything else stopped us before? Nah.”
Petra found herself giggling. “Well then, let’s get to it.” She stepped out of the car and made for the house, carrying Troublesprout
The never successfully executed their plan, because their love transcended the love of purses.
Thedude3445's 365-Story Challenge 