draliman on life

Here is my entry for Evil Squirrel’s Fourth Annual Competition of Whatever.

He has been running a series called “Shelf Critter Theatre” and has invited us to have a go! We just need to anthropomorphise at least two objects and make sure that at least one isn’t using a personality ascribed to it by the media (for example a “Mickey Mouse” toy would have a different personality to that usually ascribed to “him”).

I think that’s correct, rule-wise. So here goes. Warning – it’s a bit rude and gory 🙂

Grandpup 1: Grandpaw, Grandpaw, tell us a story!

Grandpup 2: Yes, Grandpaw! Tell us about the time you got injured.

Grandpaw: I guess you’re old enough now, kids. Gather round and listen up. It was back in the Furry wars and I was a soldier.

Grandpup 1: A soldier? Wow!

Grandpaw: Yes! I’d just received a transfer to a new unit and I was very proud, yes, proud to be F.U.C.T.

Grandpup 1: Um, what did he just say?

Grandpup 2: I think he said…

Grandpaw: Yes, the Furry Unified Combat Troop. Tell you what, kids, I was previously a member of the Allied Research, Science and Exploration division. Boy, was I glad to put that acronym behind me!

Grandpup 1: Um…

Grandpaw (lost in his memories): Yes, everyone else was very jealous of me. I was the youngest soldier ever to be F.U.C.T… will you two stop giggling? Do you want to hear this story or not?

Grandpup 1: Sorry, Grandpaw.

Grandpup 2: Sorry.

Grandpaw: There were five of us chosen for the mission – myself, Sarge, Pengy, Tatty and Andy. We set out full of hope, single file to hide our numbers.

Grandpaw: Soon we reached our first hurdle – a vast mountain to climb down.

Grandpaw: This is where we lost a couple of team mates. Pengy was first, oh poor deluded Pengy…

(Pengy: I can fly down, I’m a bird!)

(Sarge: Pengy, no! Penguins can’t fly…)

Pengy: Wheeeeeeeee! SPLAT

Grandpaw: The rest of us took our time. Sarge was a great help.

Grandpaw: But Tatty took a tumble, landed on his head.

Grandpaw: At last we reached the bottom, but then we saw them coming…

Grandpup 1: Who, Grandpaw, who?

Grandpup 2: Yes, tell us Grandpaw, tell us!

Grandpaw: The Empire, that’s who. Shock troops, distant at first but coming closer, ever closer…

Grandpaw: … until soon we could see the whites of their bricks.

Grandpaw: That’s when we lost Sarge… he sacrificed himself… threw himself on top of them…

Grandpaw: (forgetting there were children present) …guts everywhere… blood… brains…

Grandpup 2: Urgh, I think I’m gonna… bleurghhhhhhh!

Grandpaw: Er, um, don’t tell your Mum about this… there were just two of us left, myself and Andy, when in a totally freak occurrence The Doctor showed up and decided to show off his sonic screwdriver. A wave of intense sound slammed into Andy. Everything ruptured…

Grandpaw: Realising his mistake, The Doctor swiftly left, leaving me alone.

Grandpaw: I tried to stop him, to make him pay but I tripped over and scuffed myself. And that’s the story of my injury, this scar on my paw.

Grandpup 1: That was a great story, Grandpaw, but…

Grandpup 2: … we were actually wondering about your eye.

Grandpaw: Oh, that! I got that years earlier, in ‘Nam.

Grandpup 1: You were in Vietnam? You really are old! How did it happen? The Vietcong? The NVA?

Grandpaw: No, kids. I was there ten years ago on holiday, got really drunk, slipped in the shower and poked it out on the tap.

Grandpup 1: Oh.

Grandpup 2: I liked your first story better.

Grandpaw: Me too kids. Me too. Now, give your old Grandpaw a kiss and off to bed with you!

The End