Soren's Story Mach 2

Written by Soren the Hard-of-Hearing Scribe on September 22. 2009

After the Urgu had gone, we all sat in a corner and thought.

"This is pretty uncomfortable," Olaf said. "Maybe we should separate into different corners."

We agreed, and we all sat in our own corner.

"If you think about it," I said. "It's pretty unpractical to build a seven-sided jail cell."

"You mean a Heptagon?" I asked.

"Yeah," I said. "That's what I meant."

"Hey, we're thinking, not talking aloud!" Erik screamed.

"LISTEN!" Chia screamed. We all got quiet. "We need to figure out how we can escape this cell without dying in the process!"

We thought.

"I'VE GOT IT!" Olaf shrieked. Jumping up, he began to quickly run around the cell in a loose circle.

"What the Out Dere Flappin' are you DOING?" Chia shrieked.

The next thing we knew, Olaf had stopped running.

"I thought we were making omeletes," he said.

Everyone stared at him with disbelief; well, except for Phil. He stared at himself with disbelief. "How on EARTH am I so SEXY?" he asked.

Everyone ignored both of them.

UP to this point, we had all avoided the spot where the Urgu who had pretended to be Lulu had gone. All that was left of any sort of evidence that anyone had been there was a tiny black scorch mark, about the size of a penny. Erik was getting frusterated, and he began to nervously pace around the seven-sided cell. We all watched him from our corners. He began to stray off of his straight pacing line. He hovered closer to the scorch mark.

ZAP! he disappeared for the slightest moment, reappearing beyond where he had stepped over the scorch mark. Everyone gaped at him in surprise.

"Whoa," Erik said.

Everyone jumped to their feet. "The dead Urgu left a prtal behind it, just like the one Lief jumpd into!" Olaf yelled.

"We shouldn't go into it," George stuttered.

"And why not?" Omar shrieked, giving Olaf a start. "I was gonna say that..." he moaned.

"Because it probably leads to wherever the Urgur go after they die," George said.

We all stopped.

"Good point," I said. "So what do we do?" Acting on impulse I turned to Erik. "What did you see?" I asked.

"I was in and out too fast," he said. Our brows furrowed with concentration. Chia's didn't, of course, and she looked at each of us in turn with a look of disgust on her face.

"ARE YOU VIKINGS OR NOT?" she suddenly screamed. "We thrive on the Unknown! We live for the unexpected! If this is our only chance to escape this grubby cell, so be it!"

"But we might die if we stay in there too long," Omar reasoned.

"Yeah," Olad agreed.

"On second thought, I agree with Chia," Omar said.

"Why? You just agreed with me," Olaf said.

"I never want to agree with you EVER," Omar said.

"But in saying that you agree with Chia, doesn't that mean you're lying?" Olaf asked.

"Well, yeah," Omar said.

"I love lying," Olaf said smugly.

"Well, then I retract all my prior statements. Let us pretend I have never spoken," Omar said nastily.

Olaf turned to Chia and whispered, "It's shameless the way we show our friendship."

Chia smiled. It was only for a split second, but she did. She then turned and slapped Olaf across the face. Olaf was already stunned enough from the dazzling smile, so the slap barely affected him.

"Here's the deal," she said. "I'll go in there, and if I come out, you'll know its too dangerous to enter. If I don't come out, that means its safe."

"Sounds good to me!" Our fearless leader cried.

"I guess you're not talking about me," George moaned.

Chia walked over the scorch mark and disappeared with a ZAP! Olaf counted for two seconds, and cried, "All right, we're safe!"

"You know, this is a very stupid plan," Omar iterated.

"In you go!" Olaf cried, grabbing Omar and throwing him in.

Erik simply nodded; he was still obviously upset about the loss of Lulu two times in a row. He walked over the scorch mark and vanished.

"Look, Phil, a magazine with your face on it!" Olaf cried, pointing to the scorch mark. Phil disappeared before he even bolted over it.

"I don't need you assistance, Olaf," I said grimly. He had just pulled a rather large Webster's dictionary and had hooked it onto a fishing pole. He was now dangling it over the scorch mark.

"Oh right," Olaf said.

I sighed, then stepped through.

To be continued...