Money, Money, Money!
So I was walking by the Money Tree one day and – What? Hold on. *shoves narrative aside*
Director comes forward.
I quizzically flex my eyebrows in response.
Director: “You’re supposed to give them a little background before you begin the story, you know, tell them a little about yourself so they get hooked.”
Me: “But they’re already hooked? I mean, they’re absolutely flabbergasted by the weirdness already taking place here. Just look.”
*points to you*
Director: “I see. Carry on.”
So I was walking by the Money Tree, right? And I see these weirdos hanging out there, practically staring dead-eyed at an empty spot by the base of the tree.
Me: “YO BOYS! Out for a tan?”
Before I continue - No, I will not elaborate on the species of said weirdos, nor will I remark on how the sunlight glistened off of their positively sweaty and unshaved backs. What I will say is that both were of the same species and that, of course, if I were to call them Korbats – then you might assume by the end of the story that all Korbats are idiots. Not all, just these two.
Anyway, after I reluctantly poked one of them, the pokee zombishly turned around and hazily glared at me with a look so exquisitely placid as much as it was mind-numbing.
Me: “What are you doing?”
Sullen Zombie: “Waiting.”
Me: “Waiting for what?”
Morose Baboon: “Stuff.”
Me: “What kind of stuff?”
Incompetent Halfwit: “Free stuff.”
Director: “Alright, I think we’re being a little too free with the name-calling here.”
*shoves narrative aside*
Me: “Excuse me, but I’m in the middle of some brilliant dialogue here! Can’t you see that we’re about to unravel the mystery behind idle well-wishing in all its majesty and glory?”
Me: “Let’s continue.”
So by the time the Zombie tells me that he and his friend are waiting for free stuff, well, my golly, I was absolutely perplexed! For there we were, surrounded by free stuff. So I couldn’t help but bend down to my lame compadre and ask:
“What KIND of free stuff?”
Supercilious clown: “COOL free stuff.”
Me: “My dear friend, WHATEVER could you MEAN?”
And then the poor fellow gingerly pointed to some floating object in the sky. Seeing it as an obstruction to Heaven, I simply asked him what it was he was pointing to.
Rancid-smelling Nincompoop: “Magic Closet.”
Me: “Magic Closet? HOW interesting! What does this Magic Closet do?”
Incompetent sluggard: “Gives out free stuff.”
Me: “Tremendous! So you’ve been waiting for the Magic Closet to give you stuff?”
But before he could answer, I saw his blank face violently twitch at the sight of an object falling from the Goddess of Obscene Vanity.
AND BEHOLD! How feverishly his limp body suddenly leaped into pervasive animation! By Skarl, if I were ever to persuade my faculties to move at such speed – well, I suppose there would be less griping about Premium bugs.
Want to know what I saw cascading from that Dismal Closet of Abomination?
Why, none other than a glamorous Beauty Mole, of course. With a few hairs attached. But that wasn’t the disturbing part.
As soon as the Mole descended, I witnessed in inexplicable horror as ARMIES of random wayfarers leaped from the confines of the surrounding bushes and flew as if Jhudora herself were guiding their atrocious ascent.
In a moment I swiftly side-stepped to avoid being suffocated underneath a mound of struggling bodies, and precariously took note of the scene unfolding before me.
Me: “My goodness, this is interesting…”
Just then another cursed object descended, and by then all of the bloodied and bruised faces of the wayfarers seemed to twitch in unison, and again leap towards the defenseless trinket.
I was amused, no, FASCINATED by the show of bravery and wit (and albeit senseless cruelty) being displayed in the vain pursuit of these foreign objects. Such power the Magic Closet holds! My curious mind was determined to find an explanation for this.
Leaving the frenzy behind me, I traveled east towards Roo Island. In my previous travels there, I encountered many jovial folk who were very welcoming and although I questioned their sanity at times, overall their hospitality trumped my suspicions of lunacy.
(That’s not to say that all Blumaroo’s are lunatics.)
After some time I arrived on Roo Island, with the madness of Neopia Central behind me and the promise of pretended paradise before me! I was determined to find an answer, and was hopeful that the Blumaroo’s could provide some closure to a deeply troubling question. So! No better Neopian to confront about this issue than the King himself, right?
You probably see where this is going.
As soon as I arrived at the palace, the servants informed me that the King was residing at the ‘Dice-a-roo Tournament Hall’ for the day. I hastily made way to that very spot.
In retrospect, I suppose I should have been more prepared for the spectacle that was about to unfold before me. But, being ignorant to the traditions of idlers and being raised up in a society dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge and learning (careful Meridell) my eyes were soon opened to a darker side of Neopian existence. A darkness that could only be illuminated by the lustrous glow of gold and silver, of course! But that light never lasts.
Picture this: Have you ever seen such a slew of dice being hurled about so viciously by lackluster beings only comparable to those feeble-minded minions I saw at the Money Tree? Dear Fyora, what a horrendous sight. And there was the King! Basking in all that nonsensical derision.
I quickly departed, knowing no answer awaited me there, only madness. In the weeks following I travelled to other lands, seeking answers to a question that I became convinced would never reach a resolution. But I was determined, nonetheless.
Upon arriving in Faerieland, I turned myself away after witnessing the mob at the Wheel of Excitement, flinging away their money and time in hopes of more money and more FUN!
I arrived in other lands, finding similar mobs gathered at certain places. Alas, I decided that Neopia itself didn’t have the answer. So I directed my path towards Virtupets, only to find a bunch of cockamamie nimrods yanking a random lever attached to a wall. By this time I had already developed a permanent twitch under my left eye, and the amount of twitching that occurred as I saw crazed Grundo’s yank this lever only for a hand to come out and take their money was, at its best, rampant and disturbing.
Therefore, I bought my ride home and at last arrived back in Neopia Central after weeks of soul-searching and running away from endless mobs. I came back with nothing, and no answers to resolve the confusion that befuddled my mind ever since the day I laid eyes on that insidious Kor - NEOPIAN!
Anyhow friends, I’ll leave you with just one last thought.
I know not why some Neopians waste away their existence waiting for free stuff and dedicate their time to nothing else, while others labor for those same provisions and enjoy just as much, if not more happiness compared to their compatriots. But, it matters not, because the journey is different for all and every Neopian must discover (insert moral punchline here).
*takes deep breath*
“Bleh Bleh Bleh, bleh…bleh? Bleh Bleh! Bleh bleh…”
Director: “By Jove, what a fantastic story! This will definitely sell a lot of copies—“
Me: “It’s ‘By Skarl’, dude. Don’t you know we’re on an imaginary platform here? Nobody knows who Jove is.”
Director: “Right. Well anyway, you did a wonderful job. I’m sure this will gain a lot of popularity on the Neopian Times!”
Me: “Yeah, yeah. CQ’s gonna need a Triple Chocolate Smoothie to wash down all that lyrical garbage and melodramatic, slightly offensive, weirdness…”
Me: “Speaking of Chocolate, is there any fudge laying around? I need something to quench my aching soul after losing out on that free Bowtie at the Money Tree the other day.”