Thursday, September 13, 2012

The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Day 42

One of the giants told me a bizarre story today. I'm writing this from memory, so I may not have it exactly right. I'm guessing it's one of their myths, but what do I know? Could be true. You be the judge.

So there's these five creatures. I think it called them "pwiggies". It starts with one of these "pwiggies" going to a store. The giant didn't tell me what this "pwiggie" did at the store, or whether it bought anything neat. All I know is that it went. And that someone thought this fact was somehow significant.

The next "pwiggie" didn't get to go. I'm guessing there were hard feelings about this, but, again, the details are scarce. Don't know what it did instead. Don't know if it was being punished. Don't know ANYTHING!

You know, now that I'm retelling it, this is a really stupid story, isn't it?

Anyhow, there were five of these "pwiggies", so I'm not stopping with the second one. The third "pwiggie" had some sort of meat dish, I forget what. The giant -- of course -- didn't tell me if this one ate it at home or at the store. I'm guessing it was at the store, since there's no mention of meat for the second "pwiggie."

The fourth "pwiggie" was as unlucky as the second "pwiggie." There was no meat for it either. They clearly spell this out. It had NONE. We can only hope that it at least was able to go to the store with the others, even if it was forced to watch the third "pwiggie" eat something really good. It would totally suck if it had to stay home with the second "pwiggie" AND not get the snack. Besides, why have two characters in the same story doing THE EXACT SAME THING?!

OK. But here's the bizarre part. The fifth "pwiggie", who DID get to go to the store, where it may or may not have had some meat, went "Weeweeweeweeweewee" all the way back to their house. Why, you ask? Exactly! Is there an explanation for this behavior? Is it "pwiggie-speak" for something? Is it, in fact, the entire POINT OF THE STUPID STORY!?

Apparently, I'll never know. The giant just laughs and tickles me when it gets to this point. And the big galoot seems to be expecting some response from me. What am I supposed to say? "Oh, wow! Tell me that one again! I just can't get enough of pointless anecdotes!"? No. I won't give it the satisfaction.

These clowns are wasting my time, I tell you.

Explain this to me, by the way. I'm telling you, they're messing with me. And I'm tired of it. I'm supposed to be on an Arctic Adventure, dammit! (Pardon the French.)

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