'Cept it's not about a Quest for a Can Opener... Whatever. Just read the thing already!!
Anyway, after looking back after a looooong time of being away from the Oddworld forums, I realized I didn't do a sequel to my hugely-popular *smug smug* fan fic, 'Quest for the Can Opener'! So yes, here it is, the (hopefully) long awaited sequel.... 'New Quest'.
*bows*
Oh, and for those of you have
not read 'Quest for the Can Opener', as I think the Oddworld forums have
eaten it, you can find it here:
Quest for the Can Opener
So far the first two chapters are up, but I will be putting the whole thing there. Reviews are more then welcome.. *hint hint*
Onwards to the sequel!
-----
Plop.
The light played across the water of the lagoon. Dancing in intricate patterns along the edges of ripples and highlighting the sandy shallows of the tranquil pool. Deeper areas remained hidden from the light, but no so much as to completely hide the residents of this particular pool. For all it's tranquil appearances, the pool was teeming with life.
Plop.
A small fish starting away from the surface, and another medley of ripples gliding across the surface.
PLOP!
A small body, fast moving in the water, snatched at the slower fish and swallowed it eagerly.
It was feeding time in the Gabbits' home-pool.
Munch watched the younger Gabbits happily, privately thanking Odd that they grew up fast. But then, not all things were as much a blessing as they appeared to be. With the Gabbits reaching maturity so quickly, and Munch being the only one who could effectively look after them, the task of regenerating the Gabbit race was proving extensively difficult.
150 Gabbits.
Who were starting to talk.
Who wanted to know what their names were.
Who still didn't understand the dangers, even in a peaceful place like this.
And Munch.
Mudokons couldn't swim well enough to rescue the baby Gabbits when they were in danger. Nor could they teach them how to do things the way Gabbits were supposed to. Plus Munch wasn't too good at names... 150 names.... It had been easier to call them by numbers when they didn't understand him. But he'd have to name them soon, to avoid any of them growing up thinking they were '125' or 17'.
Speaking of which, it was time to call the roll again.
"Lets see... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7...."
------
Abe was taking a well-earned break.
'So many Mudokons to save, so little time', as the new saying went. Mind you, Abe was also mildly pleased with himself. The 'Native' Mudokons were becoming more and more at home with their ex-slave neighbors, and were even reteaching them the old methods of hunting, gathering and story telling that had been almost lost. Tribal body art was also springing up again, with more and more ex-slaves having tattoos or piercings performed by the natives. To Abe's embarrassment, a few natives had resurrected the Shyrkull design and altered it a little, giving Abe his own personal symbol, which many Muds were now having tattooed onto themselves. But still, he couldn't really stop them, could he?
"Hey Alfie," Abe called, attempting to catch the attention of the tea-serving, over-worked Mud.
Alf, proprietor of Alf's Rehab and Tea, the most popular place to hang out in the village, quickly finished handing over a variety of teas to some native Muds and hurried over.
"What'll it be Abe?" he asked, using a rag to spread the dirt move evenly over Abe's table.
"Gimme some of your 'special' stuff Alfie, the stuff you save for yourself..."
"Aww, come-on Abe! You know I don't do that stuff no more!"
Abe cocked his head and surveyed the other Mud. "Sure you don't Alfie... I don't mind, so long as you don't go as bad as you used to be."
Alf looked a little meepish and scuttled back behind the bar. "Mebbe I gots one bottle stashed away... in case of emergencies."
Abe hid a smile and watched as Alf made up some strong black tea, glanced around, then added a generous dollop of Brew to it.
"Alfie, you do know what that stuff is made from, right?"
Alf blinked at the question, then gave an off-hand shrug. "They don't make it no more Abie, so once the stuff is gone, it's gone, right? Let me have at least a little something to keep me going. Geez! You 'Chosen One's' are all the same! Always think you've got the hardest job! Hah! You should try making enough tea for everyone around here every day! Rescuing Muds must be a snap next to that!!"
Abe took a sip of his tea and decided not to comment.
"Hey Alf! We want some tea!" A random Mudokon called angrily. (You know, the ones that are just kinda _there_. They don't have any defining features, like names, personalities or common sense. They only exist so Abe can spend hours running around and almost getting killed trying to save them. Then they'll probably walk off the side of a cliff if not attended to anyway.)
Alf glared at him. "We're closed!! Go find a name or something!"
Abe watched the poor Mud going into a catatonic shock at being given an actual line and a mention in the story, even if it wasn't a big part.
"That was mean Alfie."
"So? I'm sick of having to serve tea to those #&%^! everyday! And what's with the symbols?"
"Censorship. It gets everywhere."
"Oh."
.....
....
...
..
.
They drank their tea.
.
..
...
....
"Abe?"
"Yeah?"
"What are we waiting for?"
"The plot twist. Should be about..."
"ABE!!!!"
Munch burst through the door of the Rehab (& Tea), hopping frantically until he tripped over a Mudokon who had come in for the first part of the deal and smacked into a table.
Several Mudokons clapped and cheered, giving Munch and overall score of 8.5 for his 'Smacking into the table' routine.
Munch flailed wildly with his tiny arms and HUGE leg, but was unable to get up with his large gut and even HUGER head weighing him down.
A round of laughter or six later, and Abe helped the Gabbit to his feet.... er, foot then.
"ABE!!!!!" Munch screamed in the Mud's ear, deriving perverse pleasure from the expression of pain that crossed the Mudokon hero's features.
"Yeah Munch?" Abe asked while massaging his ears.
"They're gone!!"
"Um... Yeah?"
"You don't care?!"
Abe smiled nervously. "Depends what you mean is gone. Like is it your stuffed Slog collection? Cause if it is I'm..."
"Shut up Abe! Some of the Baby Gabbits are missing!!"
Abe groaned. This was sounding like the beginning of another lengthy and pointless quest....
-----
I think it got a little Munch-bashing-like towards the end... Don't worry, the whole thing won't be like that.... I think.
So what do you think? Should I continue with my sequel? Or kill the thing here and now, burn the leftovers, bury it at cross-roads at Midnight and never darken the forums with my face again?
*waits*
The return of the Quest for the Can opener!
)
