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Writing Syrupy Sweetness


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For the longest time, the city-states of Waffland and France hated each other. They continuously quarreled and warred. You would think after 400 years they?d learn to get along. After all, there was enough syrup in the neighboring midget province of Vermont to sufficiently supply both countries. But neither the Waffle King nor King Louie De Touets wanted to share the bountiful and tasty syrup of Vermont. They both wanted to gorge upon it and cover their loyal and quite scrumptious subjects in it. Any peace talks that were scheduled between these two leaders always erupted in violence and vicious name-calling. The Waffle King would accuse King Louie of stealing his shower caps, and King Louie would retort with a slur against the Waffle King?s mother. Forks would then be thrown, but often missing their targets, to cause massive fatalities on both sides of the breakfast table.

It was not long after the 14th peace talk had failed, when the nation of Waffland invaded and occupied France. King Louie was forced into his palace by roving tanks and RPG?s. The forces of Waffland, having been terrorized for sometime by the once superior army of France, now had the upper hand, thanks to a bigger weapons development budget. The Waffle King was pleased with his army?s advances and the pressure placed on King Louie to surrender his lands and retreat into the mountain ranges, thus allowing Waffland to gain full access to Vermont and all its syrupy goodness.

But sadly, this occupation of France, while having some positive effect, also led to enormous amounts of violence. Though King Louie was holed up in his palace, his army was still on the outside and able to cause damage and confusion among the people of Waffland. Bombs would still go off and destroy buildings, usually public buildings. Houses of knowledge and wealth in Waffland?s capital were blown-up. These terror attacks perpetrated by the factions under King Louie did not achieve the withdrawal of the armies of the Waffle King. Retribution was enacted, and many Frenchmen perished in bombings and ambushes with assault weapons. This was all small stuff compared to the really atrocious atrocities that went on every week. There were individuals on both sides that were willing to die for their leader and would wire themselves with deadly explosives and walk into breakfast houses to detonate. In the aftermath of these attacks, officials had to clean up the scene, which was not an easy task. There were bits and pieces of citizens everywhere, tables and chairs were overturned, glass crunched under foot. Windows were blown out, and walls were scarred with burns. But the one detail that most officials threw up over, was the syrup that made the floor sticky.

Upon hearing of the destruction to his citizens, the Waffle King vowed vengeance upon France. He appeared in front of many of the other nations? leaders and voiced his opinion that King Louie De Touets needed to be booted out of office in order for the violence to stop. This would be no easy task, the Waffle King explained. King Louie was a dangerous individual, just shy of the factions who claim part of his armies. It was of the opinion of the other leaders that yes, King Louie is dangerous and yes, he needs to be stopped. However, we do not have the time to deal with him as of this moment. This enraged the Waffle King, and he stormed out of the conference room, sickened at the unwillingness of the leaders to put an end to the nation of France. The Waffle King returned to Waffland to propose his idea to his cabinet.

King Louie De Touets must be deposed, he said, I have a plan. Then his aides drew the blinds and the meeting began.

His aides marveled at the depth and ingenuity of the plan. It was simple to explain, and wasn?t boggled down with logistics of execution. It set simple standards and requirements. The Waffle King described it with gusto and flair, which caused his cabinet to flock to it with enthusiastic admiration of their leader. He called for immediate research and development of the technology needed, and his team of scientists hopped to it, determined to win the king?s favor.

At the same time, King Louie gathered together his best spies in his subterranean office. I need to know what the Waffle King is doing, he explained, I have a feeling he?s up to something that threatens my well-being. I want you three to infiltrate his palace and steal the secret plans and bring them back here. I will reward you with three drums of syrup should you succeed. I expect nothing less than perfection from you. If you are caught, I shall disavow any knowledge of your activities, for failure is not rewarded. With that known, go forth and succeed.

Having been given their mission, his spies, Pierre, Francois, and Denny, slid silently out of the office and out into the night. They all separated when they were out on the darkened streets. Francois stole down the alleys, using the cover of dark to his advantage. Pierre took to the overpasses, and Denny, well Denny just strolled down the streets. He was an innocent-looking spy. Francois reached the palace first, scaled the tall wall and leapt down with ease. The guards were not about, probably snug in their beds, or smashed out of their heads on that glorious syrup. Francois padded quietly through the yard, avoiding searchlights and such, when he came across an entrance that said, PUSH. It opened with the greatest of ease, not squeaking nor creaking, well oiled, you see. There was a long hall now, with doors numbering ten. Francois decided to check which was home to the plans. Door One was locked, he found out so quickly, and Door Two would provide no access as well. The next three doors were shut tight, and Francois began to feel sickly. The waning hours of night caused him much alarm, for it would be day soon, and with capture much harm. He decided to retreat, to escape to the dawn, and bids you hope leniency for he the pawn.

The other two spies, though cunning and brave, laid in wait for Francois and his success to deprave. Lucky Pierre took a spot on a roof, where he could see anything that moved. Denny sat outside on a chair, enjoying the cool dawn air. Lark, Pierre saw one move, down there in the yard. Who goes there, he thought, it must be Francois, that sly little fox. He thinks he is slick, but has just walked into my trick. Pierre then sounded the alarm and Francois was found. It appeared this was the end of this noble spy. But then Pierre called out to him and dropped a rope from high. Latch on, Pierre cried; for there would be no reward or syrup, should Francois have died. Francois took hold, he pulled with might, and this escape was quite a sight. But the duo was to not get far because the army was right there, their rifles raised in the air, pointed straight at their hearts. The two spies froze, paralyzed with fear, a frightened gasp alone escaping. Their knees rattled and buckled, their fingers went numb, as they heard the call to fire. The shots rang loud, true and clear, and punctured their surface, causing them to fall back to the yard from which they came.

Through all of this commotion, Denny sat there, hidden behind a paper. Nonchalantly he read, munching on some toast, sipping of his coffee. Soldiers armed with automatic weapons ran past him in both directions, chattering into their radios. Attention, attention, they cried, the perimeter has been breached. All personnel on high alert, code orange, they ordered, and the palace was locked down. No soldiers paid any mind to Denny as he strolled down the street with a copy of News Today folded under his arm.

Meanwhile, in the palace, the Waffle King?s security council began an investigation into the alleged spy infiltrations. It appeared Pierre?s luck had finally run out. He was the spy who survived and now the secret agents were brutally interrogating him. Who sent you, they asked, what was your objective? Pierre kept his lips tight and was silent, but this did not stop the hot light beaming down on his face. His silence made the interrogation more torturous. The bulb was brought closer, almost scalding his leathery skin, and now barbaric methods were utilized. The agents forced Pierre?s eyes open with toothpicks and withheld Visine. His loyalty to King Louie was still too strong, and he thus refused to talk. The agents felt it was unfortunate that he did not see the futility of his actions. They were going to draw out the answers they desired using any means necessary. It was time, they decided, to break this spy. Electroshock methods, though outlawed by many pro rights groups, was the most efficient way to obtain information. Pierre was thankful when they removed the toothpicks from his eyes but saw the equipment now being rolled in.

We have ways of making you talk, a foreboding man warned. But scared as he was, Pierre would not betray his king. I will not talk, you pigs, he declared and was brutally slapped across his right cheek. The sting brought tears to his eyes but he was steadfast in his resolve. An agent forced a piece of wood into his mouth. Bite down hard, the agent advised. Pierre did as he was told. Dots of gel were placed on both sides of his head and the voltage was set at a low setting to start. The first few sessions tingled, but the agents gradually turned the power up each time. The fifth time was at three-fourths power and Pierre dreaded the switch. Will you talk now? They asked. They were not satisfied with his response and joyfully sent current into him. Pain jumped through his body and he cried. He wished it to be over and screamed in anguish. I?ll talk! I?ll talk! He yelped. The power was then turned off and the machine wheeled away. The agents smiled and the information poured out.

Though the information was shocking, the Waffle King was expecting it. He called his publicist and ordered the press into his conference hall. There he told the world what had just transpired. My friends, colleagues, and business associates, he said, I have received startling information from a very reliable source. It appears that one of you attempted to sabotage my peoples. A coward is what you are and I assure you, I know who you are and you will be stopped for your evil and deceitful ways.

As the Waffle King was addressing the reporters, and in addressing the reporters, the world, King Louie was watching intently in his subterranean office. He was eating banana pancakes doused with syrup. The Waffle King?s words struck a chord with King Louie. He was deeply offended by those stinging barbs in the Waffle King?s words. How dare he say those nasty things about me, King Louie fumed, I?ll show him! Then King Louie stormed out of his breakfast hall, leaving his half-eaten banana pancakes on the table, sopping with syrup. The king?s temper had risen and was giving him indigestion. He screamed at the top of his lungs for his cabinet and advisors. They hurriedly filed into his conference room, still dressed in their nightgowns. Why are you not dressed, the king demanded. Your Majesty, Le Beck Fin answered in the group?s defense, you have roused us out of bed. We slept soundly beneath the warmth of our covers, and dreamt of symphonies, the queen?s warm apple pie, and geese getting blown right out of the sky. But we are awake, now, and ready to hear what Your Majesty has to say. King Louie was quite pleased at this, and then took up much of the morning to voice his disgust with the Waffle King. The Waffle King has insulted me, the king exclaimed, and for that transgression against your king you must teach him a harsh lesson in international diplomacy! The king was far beyond rational thought now. We must bring about the destruction of the Wafflers!!! I want a full press siege laid upon his palace and all his people gathered up to be gassed!!! I expect to see no more Wafflers walking my beautiful city!!! It is time we purified my city!!! Now, GO!!!

Then King Louie kicked his council out of his conference room and the assault began. Rockets blew apart chunks of the walls of the Waffle King?s palace and citizens of Waffland were rounded up and mass executions took place. King Louie watched these executions broadcast live around the world. How marvelously delicious, he thought. However, the Waffle King did not share this opinion and expressed it thus to his advisors: King Louie has gone too far! The time has come for our action to be swift and resolute! His country must be annihilated for the good of the world!

In a rage the Waffle King activated his Doomsday Machine. IT IS TIME TO DESTROY HIM, the Waffle King screamed. System activated, security network optimal, weapons efficiency rating at 100%, a pleasant female voice announced, system ready. Excellent, he shouted and pressed the button to once-and-for-all, destroy King Louie De Touets of France.
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Heh. Surely PT, you have a talent for humorous stories... however... some parts of it [purposefully I believe] sounded really... awkwardly put together, yet in other areas the vocabulary shocks... it is a very fresh mix of 6 year olds, and adult's writing. Good stuff.

8/10. Whats the secret weapon?
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Ah, yes. Yes, I did intend for certain parts to sound childish, because, well, kids rock and their almost innocent presentation of writing intrigues me. How they construct awkward sentences and pronoun mis-use is quite neat.

Syrupy Sweetness was written during my childhood fable period, along with Wonderful Lego Land (which I've also posted on OB), and actually, portions of EPICITY were written/revised during the childhood fable period. If you look really closely in EPICITY, I think you can tell what passages were written during the fable period.

Oh, the secret weapon. It's The Waffle King's Doomsday Machine. It's a throwback to Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove. Dr. Strangelove featured a kill-all device called the Doomsday Machine. While Strangelove's was activated by attack, Syrupy Sweetness' is activated by human action.

Syrupy Sweetness has a very clear-cut political agenda about it, with some very...caustic political messages. I'm not going to say what they are right now, but if you want to take a few more looks at the story, see if you can pick out what's really going on. Syrupy Sweetness is an allegory for a few different things, as all child-type fables should be.
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