So I wrote a couple more impromptu ones today, to help Mur test chat, fairly sure besides him Seph was the only one reading them!
[log=The taxidermist and Steve]
19/04/14 14:21
Once upon a time
there was this strange fellow
..and his pet chameleon
the chameleon wasn't actually alive of course
the strange fellow was a taxidermist
and had stuffed him many moons ago
but there he sat, on his shoulder
as chameleons are wont to do
this strange fellow of a taxidermist, who shall remain nameless - i mean really, would you want to be named if that were you?
he went from place to place, stuffing these strange and bizarre animals
he even came across a dinosaur once, though who bought that, how should I know
So this strange fellow, he met many people
and many met him...though I think they'd rather they hadn't
As he was particularly smelly...
One day this smelly fellow met another man
This man was steve
Not well liked for how he made his product, was not the most appealing
But his product always sold
That product of soap
Soap they say, when made
Can make a high explosive, one so high it blows the top off
it's tiny little mind
So these two met, once upon a time
Smelly man and fragrant steve, and when the two combined
You had two men, that all would meet and be pleasantly suprised
For this taxidermist smelled sweet, and had a manequin named steve
19/04/14 14:34
[/log]
[log=Jonh the Shaman]
19/04/14 14:38
There was, upon a time, as these stories go
A shaman in a little hut, name of Jonh from Bo
The little place, from whence he came, this minor place of Bo
Held a reputation of being superstitous, and so
His mother, seeing how he was marked at birth, cast him out to fend upon the world
So off he set, at age of three - they developed quickly in that place of old
Cast out and all alone
Except for that, for he could talk to those that no other could
For those that died, but stuck around, could communicate in spirit
So this shaman left his place of birth, and went to hide from those that feared
There he sat, and thought, and stood
In silence, lest he be found, and tried
Now many years, they passed and went
And he forgot himself quite thoroughly
Until one day there came this time a strange "knock, knock"
He had not heard that sound before, this not like another
For no visitors had called upon him in his years of struggle
So with caution, and a lack of haste, he crept up to his door
And with slow reaching fingers, flicked the door ajar
Now what did he find, upon the other side
But a small man named Jerry
Jerry came to tell a tale, of woe and great dispair, but try as he might, he met with empty air
For young little Jonh, had left his home, and had learnt but not a word, so all he spoke and tried to point, was lost upon his ears
So head in hands, the little man, wept and wept and wept
For what he could not say to him, was that his mother had left
Not left to shop, or walk the pet, but left this mortal coil
And that if they could not speak to her, the lives of others would be lost
Somehow or another Jerry managed to take Jonh with him home
The journey long, the weather harsh, they spent a lot of time
And over that two month journey, Jerry started to teach
So that by the time they got to Bo, Jonh could at least understand
The rudimentary language that a toddler might
But language could take many years, and time they did not have, so hoped he Jerry, that when he communed, the spirit it would differ
Jonh he crept up to his home town, and saw the sights and sands
Of a place he barely recognised, in the time that he had gone
Now Jonh, he went, up to that door
The green green door of home
And there he felt some..thing, quite new
A tingling sensation
A little itch, behind his ear, a feeling quite entirely new
That tweak he went, and scratch scratch scratched, upon that doorstep his
Upon doing so, a sort of glaze set down upon his face, a chill set on his brow
And there stood, before him now, as clearly as me to you
His mother bright, and shining clear, like on the morrow gone
And so he blinked, some tears away, to see his mother clear
A mix of hate and anger, true, for doing what she'd done
But also love and hope for all the things to come
So there he stood, and spoke to her, and learned but all he could, to help that sleepy township out, of their dire and their strife
And from then on, the village grew in size as well as fame, for someone like a shaman is hard to keep concealed
He lived his time from then on there, and then a while, it's true, for his life had been extended for time spent with the dead
He found no wife to settle down, though happy he was sure, and after time he sat and smiled, and laid down his head and crown.
Though gone he was from body, true, he stayed on, for when a new shaman came, they would need teaching and that was his place
19/04/14 15:24
[/log]