Coney The Redominator - part 2
Hello, here is the second part =)
The sun was high when Coney finally emerged from his cozy little burrow. Carrying only a bindle made from a nearby tree branch and his Avatar printed comforter. He made his way onto the narrow rabbit trail which lead to a vast world of adventure and re-domination of his kin.
It was a bright and lovely morning. With an atmosphere enhanced by chirping of the birds flying round and round, diving in and out of the high trees. Little Coney, enjoying the wonderful view of the rising sun together with the graceful movements of the birds was happily striding along the path when suddenly a bone-chilling screech was heard from atop the trees.
"Gawkk!!" came the strident sound of a falcon aloft the trees. Coney looked up incredulously. Fear crept up his tiny vertebrae. Coney's eyes darted desperately around, looking for some shelter to hide in.
Fortunately, the Gods of Happy Carrot Ground found it an auspicious moment to spare the life of little Coney. The rabbit's eyes caught hold of a hollow in a gargantuan oak tree. Not much, but plenty of room for camouflage. Little Coney dashed towards what was his only hope of survival.
The wings of the falcon fluttered over his head, its shadow formed a dark shade over Coney. He shivered. "What now??" he thought.
THUMP! LUMP! Down came the falcon on to his head like a tennis ball covered in feathers.
“AUGHHHHHHHHH!” screamed Coney.
“ACCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!” screeched the falcon. It sprang up and began advancing menacingly towards Coney.
"Please don't eat me...I taste terrible," whimpered Coney.
"Ah'm ain't a-listening! Ya sure will taste darrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnn gud!"
Despite himself, Coney cocked one of his ears. He had never heard a falcon speak, and more importantly, he had never heard anyone ever speak so terribly.
"You will get stomach-ache," he declared, and fervently hoped so.
Surprisingly, the falcon paused and looked nervous.
"No, shan't shan't get no tummy jigglies. no no.."
"Yes, you will. Your stomach will wobble like jell-o"
The falcon gave a moan and stopped in his tracks. "Dangnabbit my stomachy problems. Cabbages stink my intestines. I hash no...." and here he sniffed audibly. "I hash no proper falcon stomachies. I am no falcon."
"You're not a falcon?" Coney asked hopefully.
The falcon flashed a very falcon-ish glare. "Howsh saysh you my lunch saysh that! I am a FALCON! ACK!"
"But...." he said sadly. "My stomachies aren't meat yum-yum. They dun yum-yum rabbitsh. I am not a falcon....in my stomach"
Coney sat up straight at this perfect sentence.
"That's my mamash stuff to me. I no falon stomachies. I am a....." he paused and squinted. "a....veggie falcy. I no eat rabbitsh. Tries I must, or no falcy frensh I ish. But ish can't!"
The falcon looked like it was going to cry.
Coney, startled at the falcon's conduct, saw an opportunity opening. Could this be what has been destined for me? Coney thought to himself. He wasted no more precious bunny seconds and decided to take advantage of the situation.
"Now now. Don't cry," pleaded Coney, "It’s okay not to be the way you should be."
"Oh yea?" replied the falcon between tears.
"Yea! Like my mummy used to say, thou shalt not judge..." Coney's squeaky voice trailed off as the sweet memories of his late mother came back to him. He had great time with her, up till her demise during their visit to Coney Island. It was a traumatic experience for him.
"Erhm.." Coney cleared his throat, "As I was saying," he continued, "It’s okay to be who you are. After all. We are who we are."
The falcon looked at Coney indifferently.
Coney pressed on hurriedly. "Besides, who says you need to eat rabbits to be a falcon, eh? Maybe you got such a strong stomach, you can only eat......mountain lions! And bears! Big fat juicy bears! I think that's just what you need!"
"Me ishy stomach strongeryish?" questioned the falcon skeptically.
"Yeah! Say, you know what, I think I know where to get you some mountain lion!...why not you tag along?" invited Coney, stunned at his own words. I must have lost my mind, he thought. Oh well, I suppose he can protect me, if he doesn’t eat me first. And he should learn proper grammar.
"Yayness! I foooollow the lunch!"
Oh dear, sighed Coney. I am a fool.
Slowly, he turned his nose west and sniffed.
"I think our journey begins here...."
If some of you are wondering why this is more nonsensical (and cheesy, *ahem ahem hint hint to a certain someone*) than my other stuff, it's really because it started on a whim, and i've yet to perfect it. Besides, "a little nonsense now and then, is relished by the wisest of men".
The majority of this part was written by Shaphan, btw.
It was a bright and lovely morning. With an atmosphere enhanced by chirping of the birds flying round and round, diving in and out of the high trees. Little Coney, enjoying the wonderful view of the rising sun together with the graceful movements of the birds was happily striding along the path when suddenly a bone-chilling screech was heard from atop the trees.
"Gawkk!!" came the strident sound of a falcon aloft the trees. Coney looked up incredulously. Fear crept up his tiny vertebrae. Coney's eyes darted desperately around, looking for some shelter to hide in.
Fortunately, the Gods of Happy Carrot Ground found it an auspicious moment to spare the life of little Coney. The rabbit's eyes caught hold of a hollow in a gargantuan oak tree. Not much, but plenty of room for camouflage. Little Coney dashed towards what was his only hope of survival.
The wings of the falcon fluttered over his head, its shadow formed a dark shade over Coney. He shivered. "What now??" he thought.
THUMP! LUMP! Down came the falcon on to his head like a tennis ball covered in feathers.
“AUGHHHHHHHHH!” screamed Coney.
“ACCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!” screeched the falcon. It sprang up and began advancing menacingly towards Coney.
"Please don't eat me...I taste terrible," whimpered Coney.
"Ah'm ain't a-listening! Ya sure will taste darrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnn gud!"
Despite himself, Coney cocked one of his ears. He had never heard a falcon speak, and more importantly, he had never heard anyone ever speak so terribly.
"You will get stomach-ache," he declared, and fervently hoped so.
Surprisingly, the falcon paused and looked nervous.
"No, shan't shan't get no tummy jigglies. no no.."
"Yes, you will. Your stomach will wobble like jell-o"
The falcon gave a moan and stopped in his tracks. "Dangnabbit my stomachy problems. Cabbages stink my intestines. I hash no...." and here he sniffed audibly. "I hash no proper falcon stomachies. I am no falcon."
"You're not a falcon?" Coney asked hopefully.
The falcon flashed a very falcon-ish glare. "Howsh saysh you my lunch saysh that! I am a FALCON! ACK!"
"But...." he said sadly. "My stomachies aren't meat yum-yum. They dun yum-yum rabbitsh. I am not a falcon....in my stomach"
Coney sat up straight at this perfect sentence.
"That's my mamash stuff to me. I no falon stomachies. I am a....." he paused and squinted. "a....veggie falcy. I no eat rabbitsh. Tries I must, or no falcy frensh I ish. But ish can't!"
The falcon looked like it was going to cry.
Coney, startled at the falcon's conduct, saw an opportunity opening. Could this be what has been destined for me? Coney thought to himself. He wasted no more precious bunny seconds and decided to take advantage of the situation.
"Now now. Don't cry," pleaded Coney, "It’s okay not to be the way you should be."
"Oh yea?" replied the falcon between tears.
"Yea! Like my mummy used to say, thou shalt not judge..." Coney's squeaky voice trailed off as the sweet memories of his late mother came back to him. He had great time with her, up till her demise during their visit to Coney Island. It was a traumatic experience for him.
"Erhm.." Coney cleared his throat, "As I was saying," he continued, "It’s okay to be who you are. After all. We are who we are."
The falcon looked at Coney indifferently.
Coney pressed on hurriedly. "Besides, who says you need to eat rabbits to be a falcon, eh? Maybe you got such a strong stomach, you can only eat......mountain lions! And bears! Big fat juicy bears! I think that's just what you need!"
"Me ishy stomach strongeryish?" questioned the falcon skeptically.
"Yeah! Say, you know what, I think I know where to get you some mountain lion!...why not you tag along?" invited Coney, stunned at his own words. I must have lost my mind, he thought. Oh well, I suppose he can protect me, if he doesn’t eat me first. And he should learn proper grammar.
"Yayness! I foooollow the lunch!"
Oh dear, sighed Coney. I am a fool.
Slowly, he turned his nose west and sniffed.
"I think our journey begins here...."
To be continued.....(if you want it to)
I want it to continue =]
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