What REALLY Goes On Inside the NT Submission Form
Authors note: This story is dedicated to anyone who has ever wanted to punch,
kick, smack, hit, whack, club, stab, shoot the Neopian Times submission form.
"Hey, Rachel!" cried Matt the starry Eyrie after his
sister. "Guess what I got?"
Rachel the striped Eyrie turned around to face
him. He was holding up a bottle of red ink.
"Smell it!" he said, handing her the bottle.
She pulled off the cap and sniffed it. "Smells
like Juppie Juice."
"Exactly! There's a small shop in the market
it that selling them. It's real ink, but it smells like Juppie Juice!"
Rachel rolled her eyes. Her brother was always
doing something weird.
"Now my Neopian Times submissions will even smell
good!" And he ran up to his room.
"You are aware that you're going to attract every
Meepit in the city into your bedroom with that stuff?" shouted Rachel up the
stairs, but Matt didn't yell back. His Twisted Roses Speaker thudded on.
"I'm going down to the Beauty Parlor, and I better
not come back and find this place full of Meepits!" yelled Rachel before slamming
the door behind her.
Rachel took the path through the marketplace
to the beauty parlor. As she walked, she noticed a large crowd of people walking
in and out of a small shop. She peaked inside to see what all the commotion
was about. The salesman was a Darigan Zafara selling…Juppie Juice Ink. A blue
Meepit was sitting on his shoulder.
"Hello Miss," said the Zafara, waving at Rachel.
"I'm Nigel Randonon. Would you like to buy some of my Juppie Juice Ink? It's
not real juice, it just smells like it! All your friends will love receiving
letters from you!"
Rachel gave a sniff of disapproval and walked
out the door.
* * *
It rained that night. It pounded against the
windows as Nigel Randonon placed more Ink into his shop stock before closing
up. He didn't put a price on it yet, he'd wait till morning to do that.
"Quackers!" yelled Nigel. "C'mon it's time to
He waited for his Meepit to come running to him.
Quackers was nowhere in sight.
"QUACKERS!" yelled Nigel again. He started to
search the shop. Then he heard a crash. He ran out into the front of his shop,
where Quackers and three other Meepits were surrounded by broken glass and a
shiny red liquid.
"NO! NOT MY JUPPIE INK!" cried Nigel. "QUACKERS!
"Meeeeeeeeep!" said Quackers.
"MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!" said the other Meepits.
They stared at Nigel, with their big, back hypnotizing eyes.
"Nooooooooooooooooooo!" cried Nigel as he tried
to not look at the Meepits.
and ice blades!" said Nigel. He had fallen for the Meepit stare.
* * *
Matt had just finished his new piece for the
Neopian Times. He was very proud of it. One thousand two hundred words exactly
on how to care for Dung, written in red Juppie Ink. He placed all his papers
into one stack and ran downstairs and placed them on the counter. Matt went
back up to his room, which looked like the Kass War at the time when Kass decided
to rear his ugly head. Toys were scattered all over the floor. Some were broken.
His bed was unmade, and his closet was even worse then his floor, but he ignored
all these things now.
Matt looked over at his desk. His bottle of Juppie
Ink was low. He dug through his piles of junk and found his money box. He pulled
out five hundred Neopoints, enough for another bottle. With a shout to Rachel's
room that he was going out, he walked out of his room and down the stairs.
* * *
The Neopian Times Submission Machine, or the
Autoform, or the I'M GOING TO WHACK YOU BECAUSE YOU ATE MY STORY, form was a
huge machine, made up of four bins and four long pipes that led to offices on
the floors above. It was located in the first room in the Neopian Times office
by the visitor's entrance. Each bin was labeled, Article, Comic, Series or Short
Story. The pipes were connected to the bins. Matt placed his submission in the
Article bin and hit the 'Submit' button. His article flew up into the pipe on
out of sight.
* * *
Caroline the red Uni worked at the Neopian Times
Office part time. Her job was simple, empty the article bin when it became full
of submissions, remove and reject submissions that were not actual Times submissions,
and make sure nothing got jammed in the pipe.
It was a Monday afternoon, and Caroline was sent
to retrieve some article submissions. She approached the bin and took out a
large stack of papers. She quickly skimmed over them. She removed two of them,
which were just gibberish. She was almost through the pile when a submission
caught her eye.
It had bite marks all over it and it had some
edges torn off it. The ink was red and smeared. It smelled of Juppie Juice.
"Eeewwww!" cried Caroline, who placed it on top
of the other two submissions that she had rejected.
* * *
Matt heard a ping as a letter zoomed into the
Neomail can. He opened it to find
Your Neopian Times submission (How to Care
for Dung) was rejected because we found that your article had numerous bite
marks and was illegible. We recommend that you try not to eat your submission
in the future. Please try again next week.
The Neopets Team
"WHAT THE HECK?" cried Matt. "BITE MARKS? I SENT
THIS IN ON A THURSDAY, CHECKED JUST ABOUT EVERY WORD IN IT WITH A DICTIONARY,
AND HIGHLIGHTED ALL MY PUNCTUATION MISTAKES UNTIL MY HIGHLIGHTER WENT DEAD,
BUT IT GETS REJECTED BECAUSE OF BITES?"
It took a bit for Matt to calm down. After he
had a hot cup of Borovan, he went up to his room to re-write his article. His
Juppie Ink was runny, Mr. Randonon didn't make it was good as it used to be.
Next Thursday Matt resubmitted his article.
After a week, he didn't get a reply. After two weeks, still no reply. He resubmitted
again. He still got no reply.
"That's it!" cried Matt. "First, I get rejected
because of bite marks, then I get no reply for four weeks! I'm going to see
if I can sort this out." And Matt stormed out of the house and marched all the
way down to the Times office.
"Excuse me," said Matt as he walked up to a security
guard was in charge of watching over the Submission Form to make sure no one
did any damage to it. "Um, I've been having a problem submitting. You see, the
first time I submitted my article; it was rejected because it was bitten. And
now I haven't gotten a reply for two weeks."
The guard was about to reply, when a blue Yurble
came up to Matt. "Did you say bite marks?" he asked.
"Yeah," said Matt.
"My submission was rejected because of bite marks!"
he said, holding up a piece of paper with bites identical to Matt's. It was
written in Juppie Juice Ink.
"Mine too!" cried an ice Bori, who came running
over with yet another bitten submission with identical bite marks. A Meepit
was sitting on his shoulder. His paper had red spots on it. "I came here to
resubmit my new piece. AHHHH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
The Bori's Meepit had just sunk its teeth into
the Yurble's Juppie Juice Ink written story. The bite mark was identical to
the one's already on it, and the marks on Matt's.
"It's attracted to the smell of the Ink," said
Matt. "That's what's been biting our submissions. Meepits!"
"But what about mine?" asked the Bori. "I didn't
write mine in Juppie Juice Ink?"
Matt looked at his story. "You see those red
dots? The maker of Juppie Ink has been making it really runny lately. Some Ink
must have leaked into yours while it was in the pipe. And I guess Meepits have
sometimes eaten Juppie Juice submissions, which is why I haven't been getting
"So you're saying that we have Meepits crawling
around in the Autoform eating and biting submissions?" said the security guard.
Screams were heard over by the Short Story bin.
Poking its head out of the Pipe was a Meepit.