Dog Tornado

Are those pillows to your liking?

Since you’ve spread them everywhere?

Are you packing to go hiking?

You sure took time arranging, there

I do not get it, little dude

Why must you make a mess?

To be frank, it’s kinda rude

Can you not just chill and rest?

All the blankets, all the throws

In the wash machine

It’s like you think nobody knows

That someone here must clean

Listen, bro, and yes I know

You like to fluff and puff

No more of this dog tornado

Because I’ve had enough

Dog Breath

What do you do when you’re faced with a curse?

A fate that is worse than your death?

A thing that can just be described as the worst

A thing that is Baxter’s dog breath?

I usually let him jump onto my lap

It’s not a big deal, normally

But when I wake up after taking a nap

He tends to come walk over me

He’ll stand on my chest and look into my eye

As if to say “time to get up”

And then he will yawn and make me want to die

As I gag and say “close your mouth, pup”

It’s really not funny, because when he yawns

It’s like he’s exhaling his guts

His breath smells like what he ate from dusk to dawn

And what’s more, he’ll stand on my nuts

So I must say, as I lie here today

Typing and scribbling words

Buy a dog bed, so when you hit the hay

You’ll wake up, and only hear birds

Editing Sucks (but Marriage is Great)

I’m wedded to Words, yes I’m smitten with love

But like any such marriage, we fight

Sometimes it gets tense, and push comes to shove

As they shout, “Don’t give me your bullshit tonight!”

Of course that’s unfair, Words just don’t understand

Just like any ole husband or wife

Its worked to the bone, this here writing hand

Far too much for that “editing” life

Why can’t Words just listen, do what I say

And tidy things up on their own?

I’m only one man, and its been a long day

Must I do so much work all alone?

As carpal tunnel sets in, Words just lounge and relax

Can’t even say “Good job today, Matt”

Oh its cool Words, I got this, ya’ll just lay on your backs

Like I’m hitched to a fat fucking cat

Hell, I even invent those new friends that you like

“Words Night Out” exists ‘cause of ME

The least you could do is be more sportsmanlike

And help edit occasionally

I mean how hard can it be? Just shuffle your feet!

One step and that loose screw is tight

My spelling is solid, my grammar’s is neat

Its not like it’ll take you all night

But whatever I guess, I know they think I overbear

I truly feel marriage is great

I just get so worried they might have an affair

With that douchebag songwriter I hate

 

 

 

 

 

The Ward & the Bone: 13

“Bites of the Round Bowl!! Please, lend me your ears.”

Standing valiantly on the balcony of Cage Spamalot’s Keep, Grr Barker tells the entire Realm of the quest he will embark on, with no puns intended.

“Realm!” He shouts, “I shall commission my bravest, most chivalrous Bites to accompany me on this epic quest! We will weather the challenges that lie ahead. No obstacle shall stand in our way as we courageously mush our way to the artifact of old; the fabled Excalibone!!”

“HUZZAH!!!!” The Kingdom roars before him. “LONG LIVE GRR BARKER!!!”

“Calm yourselves, constituents,” Barker howls as he raises a paw. “Yes, this quest shall bring much glory to our Kingdom, but we mustn’t forget the severity of the threat which lies to the East! My advisors have informed me that there still remains a Phelyon, by the name of Corgin La Fey, who wishes to reclaim our freed lands!!”

“NAY!!!” The crowd shouts, fully in support of their leader. “You must vanquish her!!”

“Yes!” Barker asserts. “And vanquish we shall!! But first, I must unearth the fabled weapon of old!! For without Excalibone, I might as well be riding into a sea of Jellyfish!”

“But wait, my Liege!” A random peasant shouts from the crowd. “What do jellyfish have to do with this narrative? Alas, they don’t even remotely relate to the topic at hand!”

“Aye,” Grr Barker barks, “your words are true. Jellyfish are not, in fact, related to this quest at all. But alas! We shall recover Excalibone and send Corgin La Fey back into chasm from whence she came!!!!” He howls, awoo’ing at the rising Moon.

“AWOOO!!!!!!” The crowd repeats, even though many of them are not Kaynine. “Tomorrow,” Grr Barker shouts, “our quest shall begin!!”

The Ward & the Bone: 12

“Grr Barker, you’re up early.”

Trotting aimlessly through the hedge maze outside of Cage Spamalot, Master Squirrelin spots the new King on a morning stroll.

“Aye, Master. I found it difficult to slumber this morning. I am used to my princely duties, but now that I have inherited the Bone, I find that the responsibilities weight heavy on my conscience.”

“This is understandable, my Liege.” Squirrelin says as he pats Grr Barker on the back. “Your newfound tasks must cast an unimaginable burden.”

“They do, old friend. They do.” Barker sighs.

“My King, there is something I must share with you. I have spent much time digging through the archives. There is something I believe that must be addressed.”

Intrigued, the young King raises an eyebrow.

“Go on,” he barks.

“Barker, I have known you since you were just a pup. You know that I have always had your best interests at heart. May I speak freely?” Squirrelin asks.

“Of course,” Barker nods.

Stopping their pace, Squirrelin places a hand at the King’s chest. Looking up in surprise at the gesture, Barker turns to the mage to give him his full attention.

“There is much peril brewing in the East.” The old Squirrel says.

“Peril?” Barker asks, caught off guard dog.

“Yes, my liege. Peril. Much of it.”

Squinting his eyes and slowly casting his gaze toward the rolling hills to the East, Grr Barker suddenly wafts his hair back.

“These lands are as secure as ever!” He barks with confidence.

“My liege! You must listen.” Squirrelin pleads. “There is one who remains. One who was not felled during the War of the Realm. She is a Phelyon known as Corgin La Fey. She is mustering a massive army to reclaim what was once theirs!”

Recognizing the sincerity in Master Squirrelin’s plea, Grr Barker’s arrogant smirk fades into a look of concern.

“Are you certain of this, Master?” He asks.

“I am.”

“Hmm.” Barker hums, stroking his beard. “I shall consult my Bites about this. We must purge the Realm of any evil if it does, in fact, remain.”

“It remains, my liege. It assuredly remains. There is more…”

“Oh?” The King Barks.

“Yes.” Squirrelin asserts. “The prophecies have foretold there is but one way to defeat this scourge. You must recover Excalibone! The sword your father wielded during the War of the Realm. It is the only way that this Corgin will be defeated.”

“A quest, you say?” Barker barks.

“A quest!” Master Squirrelin repeats.

“Then it is so!” Barker shouts, head held high. “Myself and my Bites will take on this quest with honor and return balance to the Realm!”

“Excellent!” The magic-wielding rodent exclaims. “Excalibone!”

“It shall be mine!”

 

What Are You Waiting For?

All the things out there you see, they’re shining, glistening, calling thee. Why wait? Its there, right in front of you, all that needs to happen is for you to stand and do. Do, don’t wait, don’t put it off, you get one life and time, it costs. Please don’t let yours go to waste, dream your dream with utmost haste, chase it till your legs are through, and when they’re gone your arms will do. Make it there, no matter what, don’t give in and don’t say “but”, this life is yours and only yours, I tell you as I’m on all fours. I beg that people understand that life is not some fairy land, its filled with things we need to do and if undone, then it’s on you.

So simple things can really be when eyes are open and you see, take a glance over the sea and wake up to reality. All the things you dreamt you’d be don’t have to fade into the breeze, you can make these dreams come true if only you believed in you. That’s all it takes, I speak the truth, so much is wasted in our youth, if only we could comprehend that time is not a thing to lend, it never stops taking its toll and always ends up with our soul.

I ask you, what is it that you’re waiting for? Someone else to open the door? Listen, friend, please listen close. Absorb these words before your ghost. Your time here is not infinite. We don’t know what happens when we quit. Some say God and some say not, but either way we’ve got one shot. One chance to do the things we dream, one chance to love both you and me. Take this chance and never stop. Take it to the mountaintop. Take it to the ends of Earth, and give a reason to your birth.

Throughout your life, find every door. Fill your heart, then fill it more. And when you find something to love, ask yourself: what is it that I’m waiting for?

The Ward & the Bone: 11

“Barker? He is King now?”

Far to the East, Corgin Le Fey and her minions discuss the new events that have transpired throughout the Realm.

“Yes, madam,” a rat-servant screetches, “there has been much change occurring throughout the lands. Grr Barker has ascended to the Bone, and now rules with his Bites of the Round Bowl. Your carefully laid plans to put Toother to rest worked without err, and everything has gone according to your foretelling.”

“Excellent,” the Phelyon sorceress says. “Toother’s campaign almost destroyed my entire family tree. I will take pleasure in clawing the limbs and branches from his own.” She adds, combing her claw over a scroll detailing the Toother Mansbestfrienddragon’s lineage. “He should have known better. You NEVER abandon a Phelyon in a tree! They will always find a way to survive.”

“It is known, my Queen!” the rat-servant says, rolling up the Bestfrienddragon lineage scroll. “Forever Phelyons!”

“Forever Phelyons!” Corgin repeats, leaning out of the stone window so her voice can echo across the land.

“Rat-servant!” She shouts, retreating from the window. “Send a dispatch to Barko Polo. He shall send emissaries to assist me in my conquest!”

“Of course! Barko Polo is an excellent ally to call upon. You are wise to summon him.” The servant obediently replies.

“Yes.” Corgin purrs. “The Realm shall soon be mine. MINE!” She adds, pointing her Phelyon butt up to the ceiling, exposing her backside.

The Ward & the Bone: 10

“LONG LIVE THE KING!”

The Transition has come, and the night of festivities to celebrate Grr Barker’s ascension to the Bone is at hand.

“At last, he is King!”

Drunkenly swaying through a tavern full of the finest bitches, Grr Sleepsalot wafts his bowl of ale in the air.

“To Grr Barker!!” He shouts as the tavern follows suit, all throwing back a drink of Spamalot’s finest.

Watching the drunken Bites from afar, Squirrelin retreats to his study to record the events he is witnessing.

They are merry-making, and this is acceptable, I know. Yet I cannot purge myself of the fear. I know that Corgin La Fey stirs in the East, and she will pounce at the first opportunity. Its what the Phelyons do, for reasons unknown. They pounce.  

Lo, Grr Barker’s Transition will be a tale to be told for the ages, surely. But there must be a way to focus him on the threat that brews. If left alone, he will focus on nothing other than the games and the festivities. We cannot allow this to transpire. We must focus him on the grander picture. But how? How can we divert his focus on to that which will benefit the Realm? Surely there is a way. Treats. I believe that treats will refocus Grr Barker’s attention. That’s it. I shall consult the archives. The archives always sound like they contain information that the people should know, but don’t. There is simply something about that word, archives, that sounds…informative. Yes, I shall consult the archives.

As he consults the archives, Squirrelin begins his study into what must be done to combat the coming threat. Corgin La Fey is building her forces, and as the Realm is welcoming its new King, they are oblivious to what brews in the East. Let us hope that they will eventually see reason.

Reason. That is what we should see.

The Ward & the Bone: 9

The day after the sudden passing of Toother Mansbestfrienddragon, the Realm is on edge. The Realm was accustomed to Toother’s rule and guidance as King, but now they wait with gritted teeth in anticipation of what comes next. Who will inherit the Bone? Who will step up as the new leader of the Free Realm? Tradition points to Grr Barker, the sole blood heir. And yet the people are left questioning: is he ready? He’s been groomed his whole life to become King, but has such grooming been adequate? Its an excellent question, indeed, for if he hasn’t been groomed well, the people will recognize it instantly. A poor groom is the embarrassment of many Kaynines, as history has shown.

As he exits the Royal Groomer’s stall after receiving the customary cut for the Transition of the Bone ceremony, Grr Barker looks around to get his bearings.

“How do I look?” He asks his fellow Bites, who have accompanied him on his haircut quest.

“Dashing!” Grr Pantsalot pants, looking at the new King up and down. “This will bode well for the ceremony.”

“You look like a King,” Grr Goodgallihad barks, admiring Barker’s shimmering armor vest and perfectly trimmed fur.

“Wonderful!” Grr Barker exclaims. “I only hope the Court accepts the Transition. There are many nobles who wish their own kin would inherit the Bone. I must assert my claim with a show of strength!”

“Fret not, my Liege,” Grr Slobin says, having recently joined the inner circle from the Lady of the Shake’s troupe. “The Realm will respect your right to rule.”

“I pray you are right,” Barker says. “Anyway, let’s return to the Cage. I could use some rest before this evening’s festivities. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

“You will do splendidly,” Grr Sleepsalot assures him. “You’re a natural. Soon the entire Realm with be singing songs in your honor, KING,” he says, emphasizing the last word so it will sink in.

Grr Barker sighs and beckons the troupe forth.

“I suppose we shall see. Come on good boys, let’s get back before Squirrelin has a cow.”

The Bath of the Birds

I sit here in silence, observing the fray

They jump and they fly and they chirp and they play

No notion of others, surroundings are clear

They have no concern for the things that are near

A troupe, all together, just having some fun

Enjoying themselves now that rainfall has come

A friendship? A family? Their dynamic unknown

I’m certain of only one thing that they’ve shown

Simplicity flies in this unit of four

No worries, no stress, no rich and no poor

Their life is just that, a puddle to play

A place to post up and put worries away

And as I observe, these birds look around

They hop and they leap and leave marks on the ground

I can tell that they’re happy, such joy do they feel

As they chirp and they play, I can see it’s so real

They love one another, there’s no question of that

I can tell just by watching, it’s a sobering fact

I can’t help but wonder, as I see these birds play

Why humans can’t see things this simple today

This life wasn’t forged for such fury and fear

We were meant to be loved, all my friends, it’s so clear

Today, make a promise, I beg for your words

Reflect this world’s beauty, like this bath of the birds

The Ward & the Bone: 8

The morning after Grr Barker’s cryptic meeting with The Lady of the Shake, he rises early to greet the new sun. Trotting over to the stone window overlooking his Kingdom, he squints his eyes as the light meets his emerald, green eyes. His thoughts bark the question of whether he is worthy of such a quest, and he internally wonders if he is suited for the job. Before his mind has a chance to answer, he is interrupted by the gravest of news.

“Grr Barker!” A rat-servant hysterically shouts after climbing the many stairs to his Cage. “You must come! Your father has taken ill!”

“My…my father?” Grr Barker asks, immediately concerned.

“Yes! Please, follow!”

Scurrying off into the spiral staircase of the chamber tower, Grr Barker trails the rat-servant across the Castle Cage’s halls until they finally reach his father’s Kingly chambers.

“Father!” Barker howls as he sheds a tear from his glistening green eye, “please tell me you will persevere!”

Weakly lifting his head, Toother Mansbestfrienddragon takes his paw and wraps its around his son’s shaggy neck.

“My beloved Barker…cough cough…y…you must see that our Kingdom r…cough…remains. You must recover that which I have lost. My…my son…you must recover Excalibone!” The King manages to say, before his spirit sadly fades beyond the Veil.

“FATHER!! NO! AWOOOOOOOO!!!!” Grr Barker howls in pain. “How did this happen?!” He asks the surrounding servants and dogtors, suddenly displaying an expression of fury and hatred.

“My liege,” the King’s primary dogtor says, “we believe he was poisoned. His death was far too sudden for this to be a conventional illness.”

“Who is responsible?!” Grr Barker shouts, wanting answers.

“We believe it was the work of Corgin La Fey, my liege!” A tiny rat-servant who has been watching from afar squeals in a high-pitched voice. “There have been rumors that she lives on, and has sworn revenge against the Bone!”

Hearing this, Grr Barker slowly raises his head, looking up at the coat of arms mounted above his father’s chamber.

“She will be ended for this.” He snarls with a deep, sinister growl. “That wicked Phelyon will know my wrath. SERVANTS!” He barks. “Prepare my armor! Tomorrow, we ride!!”

Watching, as always, from the shadows, Squirrelin overhears the new developments. Knowing that the prophecies have now been put into motion, he retreats to his study to research what must be done.

To be continued…

The Ward & the Bone: 7

After the seventh hour of the seventh day of the seventh month of the seventh year of the seventh century of the seventh Age, the brave Bite, Toother Mansbestfrienddragon, overcame his enemies. He led a valiant assault upon the entire Realm, ousting the Phelyons and their evil regime. This is common knowledge, and their story is told in halls across all the Land.

However, a far more secretive element of the story exists. An element, should it be widely known, that would open the Kaynine’s new Kingdom to challenge, and contest. This element is the very weapon that enabled Toother to defeat his powerful foes…Excalibone! The fabled blade that contains unspoken magical properties, allowing its wielder to own the battlefield with the mightiest of presences.

Much to the dismay of Toother’s campaign, the legendary Excalibone was lost after the final battle between the Phelyons and Kaynines. Thus, the knowledge of such a powerful artifact was buried, deep, deep, underground by the furious digging of Kaynine paws. The scrolls detailing Excalibone’s last known whereabouts were buried way beneath the Catabones of Cage Spamalot, far out of reach of any who may remember its influence.

Now, the Kaynine’s face their greatest test since the War of the Realm. They must recover the weapon that they so carelessly lost, or helplessly face Corgin La Fey’s reinvigorated armies of the East!

The Ward & the Bone: 6

The evening following their arrival to Cage Spamalot, The Lady of the Shake and her honorable Bites have settled into their guest quarters, much appreciating the fluffy, soft floor beds Grr Barker and his troupe has made available. As is customary, a Grand Feast is held in honor of the regal guests, with minstrels and jesters providing song and entertainment while the nobility discuss matters of state.

“He is Brave Grr Slobin, Brave Grr Slobin!”

Dancing atop an empty table, a small crew of minstrels begins singing the same song they sung as they approached the Cage earlier in the day.

Slightly under the influence, Grr Barker stands and hoists his silver goblet-bowl to request something else.

“Minstrels!” He barks loudly. “Play a song honoring the Kaynine’s who conquered the Kingdom!”

This request catches the attention of the entire court, as the events that led to the Kaynines’ triumph have been long debated amongst the land. Opting to please their host, the minstrels pick a tune that honors Grr Barker’s father, the current King of the Realm.

“Yes! We shall play the tale of Toother Mansbestfriendragon!”

Taking their positions, the minstrels begin singing the ballad that honors Grr Barker’s father and his campaign to liberate the Realm from the Phelyons oppressive rule.

“They came from nowhere, these Kaynines, and when they saw the harsh Phelyons, they drew their bones, and threw their stones, and now the Realm has grown and grown! With treats they came and fed the land, upon the Phelyons sad last stand, the Bites of Round Bowl, then unknown, gave peace by wielding EXCALIBONE!!”

As the melody booms throughout the Hall, Grr Barker leans back, proudly watching the court revel in the victorious song. Noticing a subtle poke in his side, he turns to see what has approached him as the rest focus on the continuing ballad.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking down at the rat-servant who has poked him.

“Please, my liege, The Lady of the Shake beckons you.” The servant says, bowing her head in respect.

Intrigued, Grr Barker leans over to a still-enamored Grr Pantsalot.

“Grr Pants, keep an eye out on the festivities. I must answer this most cryptic of dispatches. I leave you in charge of the festivities.”

“Of course, my Liege.” Grr Pantsalot barks. “I shall oversee the feast with honor.”

Satsified that he’s placed the Feast in a good boy’s hands, Grr Barker exits the chambers as he follows the rat-servant. Making their way through a winding tunnel of underground catabones, they arrive at a secret chamber previously unknown. Waiting patiently is the Lady of the Shake, whom Grr Barker watched walking through his Cage doors just hours before.

“Greetings, Grr Barker.” The Lady says, her soothing voice echoing through the underground halls. “I have learned much about you over the past several months.”

Not knowing what kind of encounter this will be, Grr Barker responds with a neutral tone.

“Is that so, Lady? Pray tell, how have you come upon such knowledge? Our Kingdoms are united, yet separated. How has my liking been passed along to your lands?”

Casually strutting forward, the magnificently beautiful Lady of the Shake walks down from the elevated stone she is standing on.

“Such knowledge has not been obtained conventionally, my dear Prince. It has come to me in a vision, one which overwhelmed me when I shook off the bathwater the other day after I bathed.”

”Tell me of this vision, m’Lady.” Grr Barker says, kneeling.

“I exited the tub, Prince, whereupon a towel was placed upon me. As I dashed into the nearest blanket and comforter to maniacally shed the moisture that plagued my fur, I saw you. I saw you holding the fabled Excalibone, standing tall amidst a ferocious battle. You were fighting the last of the Phelyons who had so desperately launched an assault on your Kingdom!”

Hearing of the Lady’s vision, Grr Barker gasps.

GASP!

“This…this cannot be so!” He barks, taking a step back. “My father ousted the last of the Phelyons! It is known!”

“No, Grr Barker.” The Lady says. “Evil still remains in the Realm, and it is your destiny to destroy it. You must dispatch yourselves and find the fabled Excalibone! There is no other way.”

Knowing The Lady of the Shake never speaks untruth, Grr Barker pauses a moment, and takes a deep breath.

“Yes. I shall find it, m’Lady!” Turning to the rat-servant who led him, he instructs her to scribe a dispatch. I call upon all the Good Boys and Bites of the Round Bowl! Gather! We have a quest!!”

To be continued…

The Ward & the Bone: 5

The morning following the magnificent feast of the finest soft foods, the Bites of the Round Bowl are beginning to wake up, clumsily trotting into the Breakfast Chamber where they are all fed the day’s first meal. As the last of their troupe, Grr Sleepsalot, finally enters the chamber, the soft sound of music can be heard echoing through the castle cage’s iron windows. Jolting up to see who approaches Cage Spamalot, Grr Barker rushes to the window to look down upon the minstrels and small group of honorable Bites who have arrived to join in on the season’s festivities.

“He is brave Grr Slobin, brave Grr Slobin,” the minstrels can be heard, melodically singing a ballad honoring one of the troupe. “He fights, he jousts, he marks, he pees, and all the lovely ladies love him for Grr Slobin lives to please!” The song continues.

Excited to welcome the new arrivals, Grr Barker turns to face his constituents, excitedly shouting for them to prepare yet another day of games.

“Grr Pantsalot!” He howls, opening his arms. “Please send a dispatch to my Lady Playpenuivere! Tell her to send her finest bitches to welcome Grr Slobin and the other Bites accompanying him. They shall enjoy the regal hospitality that Cage Spamalot is renowned for!”

Finishing the final laps of his breakfast bowl, Grr Pantsalot leaves his seat and stands tall, energetically saluting his Prince.

“Of course! Lady Playpenuivere shall receive the message post-haste!”

Trotting off, Grr Pantsalot exits the building.

“So who all has come?” Grr GoodGalihad asks. “I know we were expecting many of the Bites to join us for the Games, but I questioned the courage of some. Who thinks they have what it takes to compete?”

Taking another look out of the Cage’s window, Grr Barker peers down to try and identify the other Bites.

“Hmm. I believe I see Gercival, who has not yet been Bited yet. He has not yet earned our title. And is that…yes! Roars the Younger is among them. Let’s see, who else…Grr Scratchalot, of course, he’s always tagging along. I see Grr GraitDane, always noble and chivalrous. And…no. Can it be? Is…is that The Lady of the Shake? Surely my eyes deceive me.”

Squinting, Grr Barker focuses his gaze on the ephemeral, eloquent Kaynine that is being carried into Cage Spamalot by a group of rat servants.

“It is! The Lady of the Shake is among their party! Good boys,” Grr Barker says, aggressively about facing to give his instructions, “we must prepare our finest bed and adornments! We have a Goddess among us!”

Hastily scrambling to make sure the welcome party is adequate for such an arrival, the court adjourns, getting to work on their tasks at hand.

Watching from the shadows, Squirrelin holds his tongue as the naïve troupe of Kaynines prepare for their fun and Games. He knows he must come up with a good reason for his most benevolent of Princes to see reason. Retreating to his study, he absorbs himself in the scrolls and prophecies of yesteryear. He must learn what is to transpire if he is to combat fate itself.

To be continued…

The Ward & the Bone: 4

Days after the Games, the valiant Prince Grr Barker, first in line for the Bone, parades around the halls of Cage Spamalot, the stone castle which the Bites of the Round Bowl call home.

“I suppose you all witnessed my triumphant victory the other day?” The prince howls, his chest puffed out in pride.

“Aye, you were brilliant in the Joust!” His close friend, Grr Pantsalot, barks as he tries to catch his breath.

“Why are you always panting, friend?” Grr Barker asks his companion, placing a paw on his back.

“I cannot say, my Liege.” Grr Pantsalot pants. “I simply feel as if I’m constantly out of breath.”

“I see,” Grr Barker says, turning to face the other Bites of the Round Bowl. “Come, Good Boys!” He shouts. “We shall dine on the finest of soft foods this evening to celebrate my victory! I have arranged the most well-groomed bitches for you all to consort with in my honor! Behold!” He barks, waving his paw toward the centrally located room in the Tower. Laying within are several beautifully groomed, free-of-fleas female Kaynines, waiting for the Bites of the Round Bowl to join them.

“Awoooooo!!!!!!” Grr GoodGallihad howls, unable to contain his excitement. “Come on, boys! Grr Barker has bestowed upon us the finest bitches in the Realm!”

As the group of brave Bites debaucherously make their way into the Chamber of Doggy-Style, one Bite remains behind, lacking the same level of excitement his peers have displayed. Witnessing the events from the Halls, Grr Barker’s own mentor and personal sorcerer, Squirrelin, sees this particular Bite pausing. Carefully approaching him, he inquires what is on the young Bite’s mind.

“Grr Poopsalot, what troubles you?” The magical rodent asks.

With a grave stare, Grr Poopsalot locks eyes with Squirrelin for a moment, only to let his gaze drift to the floor.

“I have been plagued with nightmares as of late, Squirrelin, and I fear for Grr Barker. For weeks, every night as I rotate several hundred times before finding the perfect spot for me to lay myself to rest, I have had terrifying images occupy my thoughts.”

Recognizing the significance of such events, the magic-wielding advisor tries to learn more.

“You must share these visions with me, Grr Poopsalot. It is the only way for me to use my powers; we must see if there is imbalance brewing in the Realm.” Squirrelin asserts, placing his claws on Poopsalot’s forehead.

As the two close their eyes and hang their heads, deep in concentration, the somewhat cavalier Grr Humpsalot shouts at them to join the others.

“Poops!” He barks. “Come, sit and be a good boy! We are celebrating our Lord’s victory, do not be disrespectful!”

Sighing and briefly locking eyes, Grr Poopsalot apologizes to the sorcerer for his duties.

“I am sorry, Squirrelin, but I must join my pack. We shall revisit this conversation another time.”

Obediently jogging toward the Chamber of Doggy Style, Poops reconvenes with his peers and partakes in all the pleasures Cage Spamalot has to offer. Squirrelin, recognizing the possibilities before him, retreats to his kennel to study what this young Bite’s dreams may truly mean.

The Ward & the Bone: 3

The Ward & the Bone 3

Far to the East the sinister Phelyon sorceress Corgin Le Fay, one of the last survivors of her species, storms through the halls of her crumbling keep, Cage Dryfude.

“JESTER! Bring me wine, right MEOW!” the Phelyon shrieks, pointing her razor-sharp claw toward the empty bowl by her decaying throne.

“Right away, m’Lady, right away!” A hunchbacked gopher shouts, hurriedly making his way to fill the dish with a 5th Age Furlot, a dry red wine harvested from grapes of a realm long since past.

“Much better,” Corgin meows, leaning down to flick her stubbled tongue into the liquid, lapping it up in haste. “Now…where were we?” She asks, peering down at the table of constituents seated before her.

Following the War of the Realm, the Phelyons were forced into exile, carrying with them the same feeling of defeat and despair they had strewn upon the Realm just years before. The sorceress, however, refused to accept such failure. Witnessing the fall of the Phelyons before her very eyes, she vowed at a very young age to return the Phelyons to their prior place of prosperity.

Scooting his chair back so he can stand and address the matriarch, a gopher known as Gosef of Hairymathea boldly speaks his mind.

“M’lady, what you propose is impossible! The Kaynines have ruthlessly cut down all opposition to their false claims of honor! The entire Realm has become plagued; brainwashed by their notions of equality and classless hierarchy! What you ask of us is simply not achievable!”

Expecting such a reaction, Lady Corgin stands on all fours, pacing back and forth, tail raised high and butthole exposed for many moments. She then calms into a soft, rhythmic purr as she reassumes her position on the throne.

“Your concerns are those of a defeated, weak gopher who falsely claims the title of Lord, Gosef. You will soon learn of what has been brewing behind the scenes, buried deep within the darkest chasms of the scratchposts of Cage Dryfude. You have no idea what’s been going on in there, for all you see are the tiny holes carved outside which expose me only when I deem it appropriate. You will ALL soon learn of my plans!”

Sadistically rubbing her paws together, Lady Corgin leans back in her throne, watching her obedient subjects look upon her with perplexed and admiring expressions.

“Soon,” she meows. “Verrrrrrrry soon.”

The Ward & the Bone: 2

Grr Barker

“Grr Barker! You have forgotten your vest-piece!”

As the gigantic crowd gathering around the fairgrounds sits in anticipation of the Games, the magic-wielding mentor of Grr Barker, heir to the Bone, chases after the daring Prince holding a Leash of Armor in his hand.

“Fear not, Squirrelin!” Grr Barker shouts back as he charges ahead, valiantly guiding his faithful steed Lambrei toward the jousting arena. “I shall have no need for such protection! Grr Sleepsalot may be a Bite of the Round Bowl, but he poses no challenge to the likes of me!”

The crowd, seeing the handsome Grr Barker ride out so daringly with no concern for his own protection, roars in support of their future King.

“ALL HAIL GRR BARKER!!!” The chant echoes across the land, reaching even the chipmunks who occupy the outskirts of Spamalot, the Kaynine’s Kingdom and Castle.

“’Tis a beautiful day for the games, no?” Grr Bitesalot says to his fellow Knights as he peers up into the bright, blue sky; anxiously awaiting the joust ahead.

“Aye, it surely is, “ barks Lady Playpenuivere, Grr Barker’s faithful betrothed. “I only hope he doesn’t hurt himself again,” the beautiful bitch adds. “The last time he jousted without a vest-piece, the Royal Vet had to attend to him for days. He worries me with such careless antics.”

“Bow-wow, fear not m’Lady,” Grr GoodGalihad says. “Barker always maintains his composure in the ‘Pens. He will come out without a scratch, I assure you.”

“I hope you are right, GoodGalihad,” the bitch says. “He so loves his theatrics. It pleases the common-folk, but I worry every time he sets paw in that arena. I pray to the Dogs that they bestow their blessings upon him. I know not what I would do if I were to made a widow.”

Interrupting the barkalogue, the Games’ trumpets are blasted, echoing across the entire Realm.

“KAYNINES!” The announcer barks, straddling a brown bear as he struggles to maintain his grip on its reigns, “LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!”

As the announcer manages to steer the brown bear away from the fields into the Cage for Commentators, Grr Barker and Grr Sleepsalot take their positions opposite each other on the long, green field.

“JOUST!!” The announcer woofs, aggressively waving his paw.

Both riding their favorite foxes, the two contestants charge at each other with bone-lances in hand. After several suspenseful seconds of fox-trotting, the two clash together as Grr Barker’s bone-lance strikes the heart of Grr Sleepsalot’s fluffy vest-piece, de-foxing him.

“HUZZAH!!!!” The crowd barks, drooling in excitement as they witness their Prince circle the Fields in victory.

“AWOOOOOO!!!!!!!” Grr Barker howls, holding his lance toward the sky in triumph.

“I told you!!” Grr GoodGalihad bow-wows to Lady Playpenuivere. “Ha! Let’s join the celebration, shall we?!” He adds, launching himself over the short, hallway-sized divider meant to keep the Kaynines from entering places they shouldn’t enter.

Beaming at her betrothed, the bitch bats her eyes several times before letting her indifferent gaze fade into a wide grin.

“Fine,” she reluctantly says through her smile. “Time to celebrate…again.” She adds with a playful eyeroll.

As the crowd celebrates their victor, a raspy voice stirs far to the East.

“Fffffffftttt.” The voice fits, observing the celebration from afar in digust. “These Kaynines’ days are numbered, mark my words. Mark them, as they unwittingly mark their territory which shall soon be MINE!!!”

To be continued…..

The Ward and the Bone: 1

The Beginning

Lo, verily, and behold.

It was the seventh hour of the seventh day of the seventh month of the seventh year of the seventh century of the seventh Age; the Bone Age. For so long had the Realm been ruled by the monsters of yesteryear. Those snide, cunningly demonic oppressors who could see through the night as if it were day…the Phelyons. Many millennia had passed since the Phelyons conquered the domain, and many millennia had passed since the realm experienced true peace.

That is, until the Kaynines came.

The Kaynines, a race which hailed from a previously unknown land, had introduced themselves to the Realm unexpectedly, having never been seen or heard of before. This new brand of noble, courageous warriors witnessed the death and despair the Realm was strangled by, fighting valiantly to overcome the Phelyons’ rule. For many decades the War of the Realm transpired, finally ending with the Kaynines emerging victorious. Peace, fortune, and love swept over the Realm upon their victory, echoing until this very day.

Until…this exact, very day.

My Dog, the Cat

There is but one thing that I wish

That way back then, I’d bought a fish

Let me explain, it wont take long:

They know which species they belong

My purpose for this poem, I’ve used

Is just to rant, for I’m confused

I could’ve sworn I bought a dog

As time goes on, it seems I’m wrong

Its not that he’s evil, it isn’t like that

Its just that he acts…well, he acts like a cat

And don’t get me wrong, I mean cats are alright

Its just that they suck out your soul every night

But back to my “dog”, he’s a weird one you see

Like sometimes he sits there and just stares at me

No telling what things might go on in his head

Since he thinks like a cat, likely wishes me dead

And that’s just the start, when he lays on the couch

He sits on the armrest, just like all the cats slouch

One day when I fed him, he like a cat threw a fit

He just scoffed and walked off, said “who eats this shit?”

Its all just a shame, he was such a good friend

But now all he does is just raise his rear end

I guess I’ve no choice, I’m being forced to adjust

I just hope it’s a phase, cause this “cat” I don’t trust…

Don’t Wait

Oftentimes, I’ll look to see

The person looking back at me

Watching through a hazy lens

At who that strange reflection is

 

Staring forward, several blinks

Is he the person that he thinks?

Does he do the things he speaks?

Is practice coming from the preach?

 

My eyes still glare, this man ahead

I’ll wonder what, that day, is said

Right now I live, and yet I dread

What memory, of me when dead

 

What mark have I bestowed upon

The family that I belong

I hope they say, when I’m a thought

That happiness is what he brought

 

Improved the lives, of all the men

The girls and kids, the children

For life is but a journey, yes

We walk and run, we talk and dress

 

We do the things we love to do

To make ourselves enjoy the dew

Every day, a precious gift

So smile wide, and heart uplift

 

This path is short, don’t waste your time

Just search and search until you find

The purpose you’ve been looking for

Unlock and open passion’s door