White Weewoos don't exist. *shifty eyes* Circulation: 174,142,867 Issue: 408 | 4th day of Gathering, Y11
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A New Idea

by xweet_candy


“Tim! Hey, Tim!” my brother, a Snow Shoyru, turned around as I ran up to him, panting. My Dofrey, Moosie, trotted behind me.

     “Yeah, Tara?” he answered.

     That’s my name, by the way, in case you haven’t worked it out yet. My full name’s Russetara, and I’m a Red Xweetok. I live with my sugar-obsessed owner Mango, as well as a younger brother called Rain – a Darigan Wocky. Anyway, back to the story.

     His Petoot, Petoopsies (imaginative name, hey?) petooted softly at me. I bent down and rubbed her softly on her head.

     “I’ve got this great new business idea!” I enthused, when I stood up again. Tim nodded at me to keep going. “I’ve made this new drink, and Mango said I could set up a stall in the Lost Desert marketplace tomorrow if you’ll take me and Moosie there, and if I bring home two of those new sugar-coated ummagines for her.” I rolled my eyes. Seriously, how weird was Mango?

     As Tim considered, I suddenly remembered something else as well. “Oh, and you can have twenty percent of the profits, if you help me carry the cans there as well.”

      “Hmm. Thirty percent,” he said.

      “Twenty-five,” I bargained. He nodded and we shook on it.

      The next day, I woke up early and began to pack my important business items into my briefcase. When Moosie woke up as well, she clip-clopped over to see what I was doing. She raised her eyebrow.

     “...” she said, her head on one side.

     “What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m packing my important business items into my super smart and sleek briefcase, of course!” I answered indignantly.

     “...” she said skeptically.

     “Well, it mightn’t be the best briefcase ever, but it’s still pretty cool,” I argued. I squirmed under her gaze. “Okay, okay, so it’s not a briefcase, just a super cool bag.” I squirmed some more. “Oh fine! It’s a leftover sack from one of Mango’s bags of sugar,” I grumbled, stuffing my items in more vigorously.

     Moosie rolled over and executed what looked suspiciously like a fit of spasmodic laughter. I glared at her, and then huffed down at my bag. Then there came a knock at my door.

     “Come in,” I called out grumpily. Tim came in, lugging a crate of fifty drinks with him, and said he was ready to go.

     I fussed around a bit more with my sack before hefting it on my shoulder and skipping out the door, with Moosie just a little behind me. Tim held my hand and kept hold of one of Moosie’s antlers while we crossed the road to the river (seriously, it’s not like Moosie or I would go fling ourselves under a passing Uni carriage or something) and immediately whistled for a Uni cab for us to take to the Lost Desert. After that, we swiftly boarded the first one that came along and landed in the Lost Desert a while after. The market lay right in front of us.

     I stepped onto the dry desert sand.

     Ooergh. Looks like an Anubis had been there before me. There was a neat little accident which my foot was in the middle of, with little paw prints leading out. Gross.

     Tim sighed, and handed me a bottle of water. I immediately started washing my feet.

     “I’ll go off first to look for a good spot for our stall. Stay there and DO NOT MOVE,” Tim instructed, before giving a hop and flying off.

     I glanced around. How boring.

     “...” Moosie suggested.

     I considered. “Yeah, okay. I’m so bored anyways.” I bent down and looked for a suitable stick. All I could find was a rotten Tchea fruit. I shrugged, that would have to do. I chucked one and Moosie rocked off to fetch it. She came back a few minutes later.

     “...” she chattered crossly.

     “What do you mean, that wasn’t much of a challenge?!?” I cried furiously. “I just need to get more practice. Look, I’ll warm up now.” I did a few stretches, and then got ready to chuck the tchea. This would be the most epic throw ever in the history of Neopia. I whirled my hand in a ring, building up momentum. Satisfied with the build-up, I flung it with all my might –

     – and it landed smack bang into Tim’s left knee, flipping him right over, and he crashed into a busy looking Aisha behind him. The Aisha, of course, started to shout and generally make a fuss. To shut her up, I shoved the whole crate of drinks in her arm and pushed her away. Then I looked down at Tim. He was softly groaning in pain. Uh-oh.

     Moosie nudged me. “...”

     “You smart girl!” I exclaimed, and then rummaged around in my bag for a Healing Potion. Thank goodness I had resourceful Moosie along, who thought to pack all kinds of weird things in my sac... I mean, bag. Finding a glass bottle of bluish stuff, I tipped it into Tim’s face. Unfortunately, I wasn’t good at aiming and most of it went over him. But a little went into his mouth, so it should work.

     I gave Tim a sufficient amount of one minute and thirty-nine seconds to recover, then grabbed him and dragged him to the nearest empty spot.

     “We’ll set up our store here,” I said.

     “How are we supposed to set up a stall when you just gave all our products to that fussy woman?”

     My face fell for a moment, but then Moosie nudged the sack again. My eyes lit up when I found five bottles left. I shook them in front of Tim irritatingly, and then grabbed an old crate that was conveniently lying around and plonked the bottles on top.

     “DRINKS, DRINKS, COOL NEW DRINKS!” I bawled at the top of my voice. This didn’t seem to do any good though because everyone else around me was yelling as well about their goods.

     “...” Moosie nudged the bag again furiously. She gave a harrumph as I took no notice of her and kept on bawling. Burrowing in, she retrieved a Magical Quill and Book, and with some difficulty, managed to get it on top of the crate. She stood over it for a few minutes, before nudging me again. Irritated, I glanced at the book, and found three torn out pieces of paper.

     “Posters!” I said, grabbing them and waving them in Tim’s face. He grunted, and somehow managed to stick them to the front of the crate. It must have been the magic or something, for suddenly everyone crowded around to look at our posters. The first one showed three Neopets with parched throats in the desert, sweating and dragging their feet. The next depicted a scene where they came upon my drinks. Lastly, they were shown satisfied and well hydrated.


     “How did your stall go, guys?” Mango asked when I skipped in the door, followed by Tim trudging slowly behind. Moosie gave her a lick and went over to her food bowl.

     “Well, first of all, I got hammered in the knee with a Tchea by Tara, and I crashed into the Aisha behind me. So we gave her our whole crate of drinks to placate her. Then we found out Moosie had packed an extra five drinks, so we tried to sell those. No one came to check our stuff out so we made posters. For some strange reason, once people got close enough to see the posters, they got really shocked and one lady even fainted.” Tim sighed.

     “Huh? That’s puzzling.” Mango mused.

     “But then we found out that over there, they read from right to left!” I announced. “Don’t worry, though,” I rushed on, “I’ve got a new idea! And it’s sausages this time!” I looked around. “What are you guys shaking your heads about?”

The End

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