Battle Quills... ready! Circulation: 180,846,367 Issue: 386 | 3rd day of Eating, Y11
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Confessions of a Twiggermoose

by unosilvah


I perched myself atop a thick branch and looked longingly outside. The golden sun was blanketing the atmosphere. Beekadoodles were chirping loudly about. I hung my head and crawled off the branch.

     It has been weeks since my owner traded me for medicine. Two long weeks.

     When he grew sick, I was worried for him.

     Four days after he had developed his sickness, I woke up in a petpet shop, with a note taped to the window that I now look through each morning. The note was plain and simple. It read, "I'm sorry, Sparkz." in Kirk's handwriting.

     I can barely remember what Kirk looked like.

     Ever since then, life has not been the same. But I remain optimistic; hopefully I will find another owner. Every day about a hundred owners and willing Neopets come into the shop. I remain unnoticed, usually, but that can all change.

     Chewing on a leaf, I crawled into a corner and peeked out again. A large, green Xweetok was holding a white Xweetok in her arms, and pushed open the door. A bell attached to the top of the door rang softly.

     "Welcome to Porky's Pets for Your Pets Shop!" a pink Lupe exclaimed to the visitors, grinning. "We've just been delivered a variety of colored Miamice, as well as colored Angelpi. We also have two trained Warfs, and some new robot petpets."

     I looked at the white Xweetok. She was smiling warmly to all of the petpets in my cage. I smiled back.

     "Oh, Kiki!" the younger Xweetok shouted, pointing at me. "He's perfect!"

     The Lupe sighed and unlocked the cage, with an emotionless, "Pick the one you want."

     The Xweetok beamed and cheerfully reached into the small cage. "Finally," I thought, inching towards her paws. "Huh?" The girl scooted me away and make a disgusted face. "What a weird petpet," she murmured, grabbing a small Urchull. I crossed my short arms and squinted at her.

     "That's 4,500 neopoints. Have a nice day," the Lupe explained, extending her arm. The green Xweetok dropped a bag of neopoints into her paw and walked off with the white pet and her Urchull.

     I grunted, spitting out the chewy leaf.

     Just then, the bell rang once more. I paused, then stared at the doorway. A baby Jetsam was crying hysterically, begging a shadow Aisha to leave. "Pleeeeeaaaaasssseeee!!" he insisted sharply through tears. "Nooooooooow!!"

     I rolled my eyes at the baby. The pink Lupe growled and walked into an office, where she threw about complaints of spoiled customers and such. Obviously, this was the last straw for her.

     A thin, blue Poogle walked out of the office and chuckled. "What can I do for you, sir?" the man asked, tipping his hat.

     "Just let my brother explore; he'll know what petpet he wants," the man instructed, patting the Jetsam on the head gently.

     "Scottttttttttttttttt!" the Jetsam screamed, tugging on the Aisha's jeans.

     "Just look. Two minutes, we'll leave in two minutes."

     The Jetsam jumped. "I hate you!"

     The Aisha laughed. "You hate me every day. Look around."

     Pouting, the baby scooted around the shop angrily. There were rare and exotic petpets lurking about, none of which caught the boy's eye. He stared at a green Warf, flipping around in a cage. He shook his head and scampered over to another section of the shop. A large, clear cage filled with dozens of Buzzers, Poppits, Cobralls, Greebles, Tennas, and Spyders.

     "Eeew!" yelled the Jetsam, dashing away.

     The Aisha shot the Jetsam a hard look. The Jetsam hung his head and lowered his lip, as if to act like an innocent little Kadoatie. And one thing I've learned from my fourteen days in this prison:

     Kadoaties are NOT innocent.

     The Jetsam silently approached my cage. Not me, anyone but me, I thought. The Jetsam's eye's widened. "Twiggermoose!" he declared.

     The Poogle, Mr. Craig Rendst, let out a laugh. "A Tigermouse, one of our more unpopular petpets, but if you want him--" Mr. Rendst's voice was cut off by the Aisha.

     "We want him. Price?" The boy's voice was firm. I sighed. I was finally going home, but with a stuck-up baby.

     The Poogle winked. "Nine-thousand," he demanded, holding out his hand. The Shadow pet dug in his pockets while the baby, with the help of an annoyed pink Lupe, scooped me up and held me in his arms.

     "Your name is Kookoo!" the Jetsam added happily. I grunted.

     "Actually, I go by Sparkz, and I--" The young neopet interrupted me, and grinned in a rather odd fashion.

     "Squeak squawk squeak to you toooo, Twiggermoose."

     I exhaled, trying to calm myself. This would be hard.

     "He funny!" The baby pointed out, tugging on the ankles of the Aisha, who seemed to be the child's brother.

     "Stop it," the Aisha growled, slapping a pile of coins onto a nearby table. I glared at the amount of neopoints, remembering that Kirk paid for items the same way-- slapping a pile of neopoints onto a counter carelessly and walking away. I sighed. The baby's hands seemed to be covered in a substance like peanut butter or toothpaste. This literally was a sticky situation.

     "Scotttttttttttttt! Scottttt! He's saddddd!" the baby exclaimed through thin tears. Scott picked me up and observed my grim face.

     "Maybe you're holding him too tight. I'll hold onto him until we get to the house." After the shadow pet's words, I instantly smiled. "Aw, look, he's already excited to come with us," the emotionless Aisha lied to his brother. It was very obvious that I couldn't stand the Jetsam either.

     I rolled my eyes. "To be honest, I'd much rather be locked up in my cage," I snapped arrogantly. The baby giggled, wiping his damp face.

     "Squeakle squeak squeakly!!" he replied happily. The Aisha raised an eyebrow.

     "What are you doing?" he questioned. His brother grinned.

     "I'm talking to Kookoo. He said that I'm his favorite owner, and I said he's mwah favorite petpetpetpet!"

     The older pet raised another eyebrow at his sibling's words. "Don't you mean 'petpet'?" he corrected.

     The baby hastily nodded, as if to say 'Ya whatever'.

     I looked quizzically into my new owner's eyes. "Oh, I forgot, you don't understand me," I murmured. The Jetsam bounced with joy.

     "Scotttt! Kookoo wants to pway gwormball!"

     With a regretful slap of the face and hands, I dug my head into a shadow and grumbled.


     The Aisha's home was unruly. Papers and half-eaten foods were strewn about, couches and cushions were torn apart with white fluff hanging messily from the bottoms, and the faint sound of screaming filled the air.

     "Get offa me, you brat!" shrieked the voice of a young girl, most likely a Usul.

     "Make me, you stupid nooblet!" screamed another.

     I hung my head and jumped out of Scott's arms, taking a seat on a cushion. "Kookoo wants to pway gwormball!" he repeated in a needy tone. Scott lifted me and threw me out a door, handing the baby a blue ball.

     "Knock yourself out," the tired eldest brother said, yawning. The baby did a weird dance and shouted something I couldn't quite understand.

     The Jetsam hopped outside and patted me on the head. I shot the child a hard look, and crawled into a patch of brown grass. The pet giggled and lifted the item up to his face. "Let's start! Winner wins a cookie with pieces of chocowate in it!"

     My first day being the kid's petpet, was, well, torture. I wanted to just go to a calm, down-to-earth owner with an utter sense of peacefulness and serenity. Instead, I end up with a little baby who can't even take a hint.

     "Hewe it comesss!!" he yelped. I jumped as the large ball hurdled towards me. I extended my puny arms. As if I could catch that huge thing!

     Water splashed around me, wetting my orange fur. "Yippee! Cookie!" cried the baby, doing what appeared to be a poorly thought-up victory dance.

     "I waited nineteeeen seconds!" he added, sneering. I watched as the naive pet ran inside to nibble on a treat, when I suddenly noticed something: a loose piece of wood in a fence. This was my chance! I looked around me; complete silence. I carefully moved towards the fence, when a burst of sadness surrounded me.

     "Twiggermooooooooooooooose!! Nooooooo Koooooookooooo!" he sobbed uncontrollably.

     I turned around with empathy in my eyes. "Fine," I mumbled, crawling over to my owner.

     "Kookoo!" the Jetsam exclaimed. I frowned. Now I'm back where I started, I thought viciously.

     The baby lifted me up with his flailing fins and hugged me. "Good Kookoo!! You're mwah favowite petpet," the Jetsam pointed out, admiring himself for saying 'petpet' correctly.

     I jumped out of his arms and shoved myself through a hole in the door, jumping onto the ripped-up sofa. I dug into the corners of my mind. I closed my eyes and attempted to watch a distant memory fly by my head in slow motion. I couldn't. It seemed logical, though, because it had been almost a month since I saw Kirk's face. Since I heard his voice. The thought of this being my life for what could possibly be years, well... it made me freeze up. I don't know the answer to something that isn't a question, but more of an abnormal phrase. I don't know the solution to a problem as great as this. But perhaps I can make the best of this-- perhaps I can see through the baby's ways.

     I almost chuckled at this, but decided that laughing was an unusual activity right now. I'm hanging by a thread, here. What would become of me? Would a stay a grumpy petpet forever, or would I catch the contagious hobby of being an annoying little fool? Do I have a choice?

     As the questions raced through my mind, I heard more screeching. From the same girls who were fighting a moment ago, I assume.

     "Get over here, runt! I haven't pulled out all of your hair yet!!" yelled a girlish voice, followed by the thump of an item of piece of furniture falling.

     "Over YOUR dead body!" the other fought.

     I plugged my ears with white fluff and tried to get some sleep. "Kookoooo, dinner dinner!" the Jetsam called out.

     So much for sleeping.

     I limped over to my owner's feet, my fur still drenched in water, and looked at the baby. "You get burgers!" the ecstatic pet announced. Scott picked him up and set him down on the counter.

     "Kookoo is having petpet food," he corrected again, pulling a green can out of a cabinet. I shook my head and pounced back onto my seat on the couch.

     "He prolly ate at the petpet store," insisted the baby.

     "Sure," I replied, knowing my answer came out an a squeak.

     "See? Kookoo ate yummy food."

     I bobbed my head and lay down upon a blue pillow, searching for my long-lost inner peace to drown out the squealing sisters upstairs.

     I scanned the room for my new owner, to make sure he wasn't staring down at me, awaiting the very nanosecond that I arise. Thankfully, he wasn't. He lay on the counter, pretending to be me.

     Kookoo the Twiggermoose.


     I woke up on a soft carpet; my fur was not dried. My nap wasn't so pleasant with the sisters fighting all night, but they finally decided to postpone their war and get some rest.

     The baby Jetsam sat silently on the same counter top he was lying on the previous day. He was munching on a waffle, drowned in maple syrup. It was appalling.

     I shifted around, trying to make as little noise as possible, but the small pet had heard me with concentrated ears. "Kookoo!" he observed, running towards me.

     I scrunched up my nose and prepared for sticky syrup hands.

     "Kookoo, there's a waffow over there. You can eat it if you're hungwy," he offered. I paused, peering to the edge of the counter, where the Jetsam pointed.

     I rejected it by walking away, glaring at the life that I was missing. The life was invisible and nonexistent, though, and very distant as well.

     A moment later, Scott, in a pair of green pajamas, practically rolled into the room, rubbing his eyes lazily. "You early birds..." he grumbled, revealing his droopy eyes.

     "You couch potato!" the Jetsam shot back in a funny tone. The Aisha smiled and sat down next to me.

     "Hey, Kookoo," he greeted me. I groaned and hopped away, agitated. "Mph." His voice was muffled under his hands.

     Laughing, my owner stood up proudly. "I'm his owner; he knows twicks and I can make him do twicks," he declared. "Roll over, Twiggermoose."

     I sat quietly, giving the baby a pathetic look. He frowned. "Fetch," he ordered, tossing a lump of his waffle.

     I remained still for a second, then darted away from these bothersome neopets. I won't lie, I'm acting quite scornful, but I wanted an owner, not a baby that calls himself my owner.

     "Gosh, you're all annoying," I sighed, not remembering that my words aren't understood by neopets.

     "Squeakle squeak!" the Jetsam giggled, chasing me. I turned around and hid under a table. I poked my head out from underneath the table and stuck out my tongue vainly.

     A meek pout covered Scott's face. He looked blankly into the air, as if he was realizing a cruel fact. I didn't exactly need to guess what the fact was.

     "Kiddo, can I see you for a second? In the hallway?" Scott asked his brother, dragging him into a nearby opening.

     Curious, I hopped off of the couch and tiptoed towards the hall, pressing my back to a wall and leaning over. Scott sighed.

     "I think we should take Kookoo back," Scott explained silently, whispering.

     Tears formed in the baby's eyes. "No no no! Kookoo is mwah favowite petpe-"

     "I know," Scott interrupted, with a firm tone. "But it's obvious he doesn't like it here."

     The Jetsam threw his face into his knees and wept. "Kookoo is the bestest! Pwease pwease! I only had Kookoo for a lil' bit!" he cried.

     The Aisha's face was concerned. "Tigermice bite, and run away. I just don't want you disappointed."

     "NO! I want Kookoo to stay."

     "There are too many reasons that he shouldn't stay. We could use the money after that paint brush we spent on you!" Scott argued.

     "I don't care! I lub Twiggermooses!" the baby squealed.


     I stared in awe. All the faded remembrances, all the dusty memories... they all flew into my head.


     I beamed and watched Kirk expertly hurdle a red ball in a straight line. "See, Sparkz? Nothin' to it."

     I clapped my paws together and jumped onto the blue Jetsam's finger. "We'll have that paint brush for me in no time."

     I had always wondered what the paint brush was, but knew I'd find out soon enough. I grinned and jumped out of Kirk's arms, with an idea floating around me.

     Pushing the red ball with my nose, I gave Kirk a wink and gathered my momentum, shoving the ball with all my might. Kirk laughed. "Good job, buddy!"

     Life couldn't have been going smoother.

     "Attention, the Wingoball stadium will be closing in five minutes. Five minutes!" boomed a loud voice. Kirk scooped me up and patted me lightly.

     "Let's get going, champ," the Jetsam chuckled, walking towards a desk. A royal Blumaroo handed my owner a bag of neopoints, and smiled warmly. I wondered what a rich pet like her would be doing in a place like this.

     I climbed atop Kirk's head and nodded. Kirk giggled in delight and shook his head playfully. "You're my favorite petpet."

     And the next day, I awoke in the petpet shop.


     With wide eyes, I inched into the hall, Scott and Kirk not noticing me.

     "Kookoo says I'm his favowite owner!" As of now, true.

     "He's annoyed. Not just with you-- but with everything. I don't know why, but I know." Totally false.

     Kirk sobbed hysterically. That's my cue, I thought.

     I crawled into the scene and grinned happily. "Kookoo! Stupid Scott wants you to go," Kirk pointed out. I scrunched my nose and gave Scott a harsh look, and hopped into the lap of my owner.

     Shocked, the Aisha tilted his head quizzically as if to say, 'What's with the mood swings?' in a disgusted tone. I ignored this, and smiled at the baby.

     And suddenly, I decided that a baby as an owner... wouldn't be so bad after all.

The End

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