Sanity is forbidden Circulation: 175,957,853 Issue: 354 | 8th day of Hiding, Y10
Home | Archives Articles | Editorial | Short Stories | Comics | New Series | Continued Series

Smartycara and the Evil Fuzzle

by marbookworm22


June 3

Mar went avatar hunting today. I don’t really get the point; she’s not much of a chatter. Oh well.

     She took me to the Shop Wizard. His hut was shaped like a fancy blue magic hat. I found it pretty cool. We went inside the red doors, where we found the Shop Wizard talking to a Kyrii. The Kyrii left with a map and Mar stepped in front of the yellow JubJub.

      “Alakazam!” he shouted. “I’m the Shop Wizard. What can I find for you today?”

     Mar rubbed her ear. “You don’t have to yell,” she mumbled. “Anyways, I’m looking for a blue evil fuzzle.”

     “An avatar hunter, eh? FINDUS FUZZLEUS!” And POOF, a map appeared in Mar’s hands.

     “Okay, that should lead you to the cheapest Fuzzles in the area. Have a nice day.”

      Mar and I let a boy with a Grarrl in front of us and left the hat-shaped hut. “Okay, the cheapest Fuzzle seems to be at Komie’s A-Z Mart, which is right over there.” She pointed to a place with black walls and a sign that read “Emo Usul Land.”

      “That doesn’t look like Komie’s.” I sighed. “Mar, the map is upside down.”

      “Oh. I knew that.” She flipped the map. “Well then, it should be right... there.”

      There was Komie’s. It had purple walls and looked like a normal shop. We went inside.

      “Schön dass du da bist, hoffentlich findest du auch was du suchst,” said the Uni who greeted us.

      Mar didn’t know much German, so finding the toy in the huge store would be tough. Luckily, the Fuzzle was in plain sight. Mar grabbed it off the shelf and handed 1,500 NP to the Uni.

      “Danke,” replied the spotted pet. We left the store.

      “Does this thing scare you?” Mar asked me, holding the Fuzzle to my face.

      “No,” I said. It was pretty creepy, I will admit, with its wild blue fur and malevolently stitched smile. But I wasn’t about to admit that. I’ve read way too much to be scared of something so small when there were other things to be scared of, like angry Chombies and Grundo diplomacy.

      “Well, I guess you won’t be the one who plays with Fuzzie,” the girl said. I think she could tell I didn’t like it. But what was creepier was how Mar was patting it on the head. And she named it. Fuzzie, what a bad name for a fuzzle.

     June 3, late night

     I can’t sleep. Mar put the Fuzzle in my room because it didn’t scare me. But it’s starting to. It’s just staring at me, like it’s waiting for something. So I’m writing this to try to make me sleep. Too bad brainpower keeps me up all night (one reason why I’m not allowed to read under the covers after nine on a Neoschool night).

     Mar tried to get the Fuzzle to scare Icekid. But it didn’t work. My brother is just too brave (and stupid) to get scared by a little plushie. Even after an hour of playing Trick-or-Treat Nightmare: Ultimate Doom Edition. I’m surprised Fuzzie didn’t scream.

     I’m starting to feel sleepy. The fuzzle’s eyes are just so appealing, I really want to look at them... tired... sleepy... good-bye____________

     June 4

     Sorry for that line last night, I just sort of fell asleep. And y’know what? I’m blaming it on that Fuzzle. I looked at it, and somehow it seemed it was hypnotizing me to sleep. I told Mar that and she just laughed, saying that I have a very active imagination. Well, I do. But this was real.

     June 4, some time around two

     Mar took Marcia and me out for lunch today. A “girls only” outing, she called it. While we feasted on pizza (I had peppermint, Marcia had Mushrolivepepper), the boys had omelette with fish. Ha ha, Icekid.

     When we were finished eating, Mar put on a serious face (something very hard for her.) “Girls,” she said, “I brought you here for a reason. We are going to have a very serious talk.”

     Marcia and I groaned. Mar always burst into laughter when she tried to be serious. It didn’t work for her.

     “Don’t groan, this is a good thing.” The girl pushed her blue glasses up her nose and smiled. “I have decided to paint both of you.”

     Our mouths fell open. Paint us? Mar must’ve hit her head too hard when she jumped for joy after reaching Diamond Deposit Plus at the bank today.

     Since my sister and I are already painted (she was born a white Grundo, I was painted Christmas soon after I was brought home) Mar wasn’t going to paint us. She made about 5,000 NP a day and could barely afford paintbrushes for my unpainted brothers. After all, Errol’s plushie paintbrush was going to be over three million. And Boochi had not come for Icekid yet (he preferred to give Mar a scare by nearly zapping Errol instead.)

     “I need your opinion on what colors to paint you, and I don’t want a basic color. And that includes NO PINK, Marcia.” I suppressed a laugh at the Grundo’s expression.

     I love my Christmas fur, but I will admit that being seasonal all year gets annoying sometimes, especially in the summer. After pondering all of the colors I’d seen at the Rainbow Fountain color gallery on the tour last month, the one that I liked the most was Cloud.

     “I think,” I said slowly, “I’d like to be cloud.”

      “Striped,” grumbled Marcia.

     “Excellent,” said Mar. “Now, let’s go home. I doubt the boys could get into much trouble in less than an hour, but ya never know.”

     It turned out that the boys could get into trouble in less than an hour. We found Errol sitting next to Icekid’s unconscious body, shivering and close to tears. After a vigorous shaking Icekid revived.

     “Fuzzle...” Icekid whispered. “Fuzzle... it...” And he fell back into unconsciousness.

     “Errol, what happened?” Mar asked, squatting down to the Eyrie’s level.

     A whimper came from his beak and he buried his head in his paws, sobbing. After a few minutes of pats on the back he came to and told us everything.

     After we left for Pizzaroo, Errol had gotten the omelettes and fish off their shelves and he and Icekid had been just fine. Icekid went to watch Neovision in the entry hall’s sitting area while Errol cleaned up. Hearing a shout come from the entry hall, Errol went to see what was wrong. He found Icekid on the ground, the Blue Evil Fuzzle standing on his belly, looking like it was about to do something very evil. Errol shouted “STOP!” and the Fuzzle looked up, its eyes glowing red. It scuttled off, and Errol was left with a passed out brother and a plushie on the run.

     Mar looked grave. “Errol, fly Icekid and me to the Neopian Hospital. Girls, be careful. If you see the Fuzzle, run. I’ll come back as soon as Errol and Icekid get to the hospital.” And with that, she was gone with my brothers.

     Marcia let out a small scream. I couldn’t help but agree. My stomach is hurting really bad as I’m writing this. I feel like I won’t make it to tomorrow. Bumblebooks, why are you quavering? (Bumblebooks is my Poppit.)

     Oh gosh. Marcia is crying. The evil fuzzle must’ve scared her to death.

     Evil fuzzle. No. No.

     Red eyes, staring at me. Good bye, dear journal. I’ll miss you.

     June 5

      This morning I awoke in a hospital bed, surrounded by doctors, family, friends, and a few plushie tycoons.

     “She’s awake!” shouted Mar. “Leave her alone, this is private.”

     The doctors and plushie tycoons filed out of the small hospital room. The girl also waved out my siblings and friends. “What happened?” Mar asked gently, handing me my spectacles.

     So I told her last night’s events. I had seen the glowing eyes of the fuzzle staring at me. It opened its stitched mouth and let out a cold, cruel laugh. “Your time is up,” it had said. I had grabbed my pencil sharpener and stuck the pencil I’m using now in it and turned until it was deadly sharp.

     “Going to fight, are you?” sneered the plushie. “This isn’t some fantasy book, you know. You aren’t going to be the brave, unlikely heroine who beats the odds and wins.”

     “Yes, I am,” I muttered against gritted teeth. And I flung myself, pencil and all, at the sneering blue lump of fluff.

     But it was too fast. It jumped out of the way, leaving me to crash through the doorway, into the hall. I hit the wall and got a nice big bruise on my head, too. I rolled over and saw the Fuzzle standing next to me. It bit me on the paw. I felt really nauseous and could barely move. But I still had my pencil, so I stabbed a hole in the toy. It screamed and stopped moving. And after that I don’t remember anything.

     Mar was quiet. “You were so brave,” she whispered in my ear. “I’m so proud of you. When I got home and found you lying on the floor with a stuffing-covered plushie next to you I feared the worst.”

     “Well, I’m okay now,” I said quietly, smiling. “Thanks, Mar. And by the way, what did you do with that plushie?”

     My owner blushed. “Well...” she said, “I put in the shop last night and told Beatrix to fix it and put it up for sale.” Beatrix was our bad-tempered, overworked Cybunny shopkeeper. I laughed.

     Mar called my family and friends in. Maria Grace and Bunny Rabbit, my two best friends, sat down on the end of my bed and asked me to tell them everything. Icekid, wearing a hospital gown and looking quite stupid, leaned against Errol. Marcia just smiled as I started to tell the story.

     It’s late night now. I’ll get out of the hospital tomorrow and get to see the damage in the shop. Apparently the Fuzzle chased Beatrix around the store after it was fixed for about an hour until some brainless customer came in and bought the plushie, which had stopped running at the customer bell. Poor ‘ol Beatrix.

     I’d better get to bed now. The nurse who just came in is glaring at me. Oh well.

     Y’know, journal, I bet I could get you published. Thanks for listening to my rants over the past few days. I wonder, would the Times find this a good story?

     Aww, man, I’m almost out of paper. This is the last page. Good bye, dear journal, you were a great friend.

The End

This is my first short story! I hope you liked it. :) Thanks for reading!

Search the Neopian Times

Great stories!


A Game of Nostalgia
As you open the creaky gate, you may be surprised by the neat rows of headstones, quite at odds with the generally run down, dishevelled appearance of the rest of the Haunted Woods.

by dipper70


Galleries Galore!!!
It is up to you to decide which type of gallery you would like to have. No one can tell you which gallery is right for you.

by _mariokart_


It Ain't Easy Being Grape: Part Three
"But you can't go! We've only just become friends..."

by rainbow2skittle


Hungry Grarrl + Chocolate = Yikes!

by chkmic8

Submit your stories, articles, and comics using the new submission form.