Adventures Inside Ryans Head: Episode 35 (sidenote: from here on out I shall be selling out! Thats right, for the low, low price of acknowledging my existence via facebook chat or comment, I will be happy to add you as a character, or put in a story idea! Act now, before I find my pride!) Last weekend I went to my friends gym, to get away from the troll trainers. No exaggeration there, just FYI. Its amazing! Its humongous! They have a pool, a basketball court, an overhead track complete with multiple static exercise machines, and even a racquetball court! Ahhh, the racquetball court. I love racquetball, so its fitting that it would be the root cause of my lifes untimely ruination. You see, I was on the elliptical on the second-floor exercise pad/dome/track thing, pumping away at a brisk pace and jamming out to A-Ha and looking every bit like an overweight lesbian (please dont take offense; this is merely the most accurate description I can provide and it is entirely up to you to decide whether or not the imagery is negative), and there was a couple of guys playing the game in the court behind me. I was facing away from them and about ten minutes into it, I had to sneeze. I brought my hand up to my face, and in that same moment a stray racquetball flew through the observation window, bounced off my elliptical screen, hit me in the face, then fell into my hand. I looked behind me to see the two guys staring up at me in shock; the apparently thought Id caught the ball as a reflex. So I smiled like a boss, nodded, and tossed the ball back to them over my shoulder like it was no big dead. Bad-ass, right? Problem is, they were elves. Elves are very active and participate in a great many human sports, and are also superstitious and prone to exaggeration. This pair in particular I had never met before, and so they had no reason to doubt that I was, in fact, just that amazing. They thought I was the chosen one. Im not sure what the chosen one is in elfen lore, but they explained that human beings are unable to respond to elven movements with such accuracy, and for me to have caught their underhand serve in mid-air without looking could only mean I was a superior being to humans, even though I was one. Among them, but not OF them. I have an ego, and would like to say that this logic has absolutely nothing to do with the elves diehard tradition of passing off human capability or even human luck in the face of elven superiority as the result of divine ordinance. That is, however, not the case. I have the slightly sneezed-upon racquetball to prove it. The racquetball duo, Naboreas and Twin Caius, tried to persuade me to meet their priest in their ancient elven forest. Forests and me have been on bad terms lately, so I protested at first. But the elves guaranteed me their protection, and explained it was my destiny to marry the elven princess and produce a copious amount of genetically superior chosen one elf offspring. Being a patriot, I accepted. Heres where it gets tricky. The elven high priest, Oh Oestess, loved me, and blessed my future generations. Then he introduced me to my bride to be. A very tall, although not unattractive, majestic Evergreen. A pine tree, as it were. Elves are the offspring of dryads and water nymphs: the children of nature itself, endowed with the magical properties of the breath of the earth and laughter of water, and that holds true for ALL the children of dryads and water nymphs; even the immobile ones. Miss Evergreen just so happened to be the firstborn female, although how they could tell it was a female I had no idea. I had decided I had no choice but to refuse. I would have refused, but word gets around in the tree-world. They have a very complex intelligence network with many branches, and by this point every coniferous being in America knew about the great Calamity known as Ryan. Miss Evergreen attacked me with pine cones. And you KNOW youve upset someone when they throw their own body parts at you! I had to dismiss myself, post haste. They elves were, naturally, grievously offended by the trees treatment of me, since they had already decided I was chosen and their logic is infallible and therefore the the problem was with the trees. And the forest responded by saying I was, in roughly translated tree-speak, a total douchebag who deserved a good branching. War followed. The likes of which the world has never seen.
Posted on: Wed, 06 Nov 2013 06:41:22 +0000
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