By Xaris (with Hannah Christensen)
Sir Hendrick was bringing in more wood for the fireplace, The fireplace didn’t need anymore wood, but it buried his sword hidden under the loose hearth stone.
“Hendrick!” The yell made him drop his armload of wood. He slowly turned around to find his sister standing there.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “We don’t need any more wood.”
“Um…this is for…our neighbor.”
“Our neighbor.” She narrowed her eyes. “He’s let his monsters loose again. They’re ravaging the country side. You need to go vanquish them!”
“Again?!” He groaned. “This is the third time.”
“At least it will be shiny after last time.” She snickered.
“The countryside?’ he asked hopefully.
“Your sword.” She pointed at the fireplace. “Dig it out. Now. And I already dumped the dirt and dandelions out of the armor.”
“But—”
“You’re a knight. It’s your duty. If they mess with my roses, you will really see a maiden in distress.”
Sir Hendrick glumly dug his sword back out and trudged outside. His helmet, still filled with water and daffodils, came hurtling out behind him. His sister had a strong arm.
Outside three escaped monsters milled around the stone wall surrounding the garden. One crunched away at the bricks, trying to get through. They looked like a cross between a kitten and a dinosaur. The smallest on might have actually been a kitten, but he wasn’t taking any chances, not after last time. Strapping on his armor he made his way to the wall. “Um…go away…please?” Sir Hendrick asked. The largest of the monsters turned toward him and growled. He took a step back. “Nice kitty-dino monster thingy.”
It bristled its fur, rattled the plates along its back, and spat. A great big goopy hairball hurled toward him. He ducked, wishing he could remember where his shield was. The smaller ones began to tighten closer to him as well. He drew his sword and swung it in an arch, forcing the monsters back. Reluctant to actually hurt them, he carefully nudged the smallest with his boot. It climbed up his leg and lung to his back. He spun around and around, trying to dislodge the monster. Finally he stopped, the monster still clinging to his back. He was sure it was smirking.
Backing up to the wall, he tried to scrape it off his back. It squeaked. He gritted his teeth and rubbed again. It scraped down, probably leaving claw marks. Just as it got low enough for him to grab on and start pulling, the others ran and jumped on him.
Sir Hendrick choked on the fur and stumbled sideways to fall into the ditch. Unfortunately it was full of rain water. The current carried Sir Hendrick and the monsters downhill. He struggled to keep his head about the water with his three hitchhikers weighing him down. Finally he dragged himself and the monsters out of the water. Looking up he saw he was sprawled on his neighbor’s front lawn.
The door to the cottage burst open and Wodely ran out. His hair stuck out at odd angles, and soot marked his face.
What are you doing?” he wailed. “My Hoobersurs! They aren’t made for ditch water! It doesn’t have enough soap to keep them safe!”
The monsters lay limply about the ground, whimpering and mewling and growling. Their fur lay limp and stringy about their tails and bodies and becks. Wodely scampered from one to another, gently touching each and checking their mouths and claws. He turned to Sir Hendrick and glared. “Help me carry them inside.”
“But…but…Okay, fine.” Sir Hendrick sighted. They’re not monsters. They’re Hoobersurs!” Wodley huffed. “And they’re not monstrous in the least. They only eat fruit and flowers—”
“We noticed,” muttered Sir Hendrick.
“—and are helpful for all sorts of things: washing dishes, sorting mushrooms, peeling carrots, combing caterpillars. They’re even better than the Pullillians I tried last month. Now, thanks to you, they’re going to be sick.”
“If you don’t like sick Hoober…Hobber…whatever, then keep them out of our yard!” snapped Sir Hendrick. “Hoo-ber-sur, and if they can’t wash my dishes then you will.”
“No…no no no, not ME!”
“Yes, you. Come with me,” he ordered, dragging Sir Hendrick to the kitchen.
Before Sir Hendrick knew what was happening, he was dragged inside and shoved in front of a cauldron filled with soapy water. He wasn’t even given a chance to change out of his armor.
Metal gauntlets are not delicate. He broke several teacups (by accident) as well as a tall, skinny glass with a rounded bottom (maybe more on purpose). Wodely was too busy mixing up medicine and drying off his monsters to notice. This gave Sir Hendrick an idea.
While Wodely was distracted he grabbed an experiment off the table, dumped it into the cauldron and washed it out. He did this several times and was reaching for another vial when the water began to bubble. He looked over and squeaked, “Oopsy.”
Wodely looked up. “Are you almost done?”
“Um…it depends what you mean by done,” he said as the water bubbled over.
“I mean are you done with the dishes so you can start combing the—oh, no!” He looked at the bubbles, now bright purple and vibrating, with wide eyes. “You are done for! At least—” He dashed away and began rummaging frantically through flowerpots of bottles.
Sir Hendrick decided to take a step back, but it was too late. Purple bubbles had overflowed onto his boots, and they were now stuck to the ground. Before the damage could go higher, Wodely dashed back over and threw red powder all over the bubbles. The bubbles soaked up the the powder and stopped flowing. They slowly melted back. Sir Hendrick tried to pick his feet up but his boots were still stuck. He pulled and tugged until his feet came out of his boots. Glancing around he tried to sneak out but Wodely grabbed him by the collar.
“Oh, no, you don’t, you’re going to clean this up.”
Sir Hendrick looked glumly down at the mop in his hands. Maybe he could swab his way back home. Then if Wodely followed him with more chores, he could shove them at his sister. As long as his armor didn’t rust stiff on the way.
Octopencil 