Monday, November 03, 2008

The Red Bucket. There's more!!! For the writer guild

Once upon a time there was a red bucket, this bucket belonged to a young woman who lived in a simple cottage between the village and the mountains. The village is of no great importance except it was the last one before you reached the mountains, the road however that went past the young woman's house would normally be considered of great importance because it went from one end of the country to the other, but this fact is of little us to us for as I have said our story is about a red bucket. Our story begins on an Autumn day when the hillsides were painted in brilliant colors. It had been raining and the roof of the cottage had a leak, so the young woman setup the red bucket to catch the leak. At the first peering of the sun up to the roof she went to see if she could fix it. The clouds created drama in the vast sky, and the rain made the world seem polished as if for a special occasion. The young woman took in the whole scene with a satisfied grin. There were few things she enjoyed more then standing on her thatched roof looking at (what seemed) the whole world. Only one thing marred the beauty and that was the blue smoke rising from the woods. A noise from below woke her from her thoughts.
"Hello Madam" You might have been surprised, dear reader, by what this unknown man looked like, for from head to toe with only his face showing he was wearing buckets of all different size and color, he wore it like some men wear armer, outside their clothes yet so bulky you can't really tell anything about the man inside except his hight. Cordelia (for that was the young woman's name) wasn't startled about his appearance only at him appearing.
"I was walking by and couldn't help but wonder if you need assistance down from your roof." Cordelia explained she was perfectly fine, merely fixing a leak ing her roof. Personally I haven't the lest idea how one would fix a leak in a thatch roof, and I don't know if Cordelia really knew what she was doing, and won't know because the bucket man insisted on doing it himself. Up he climbed (it was quite the clamor) to see what could be done. During the course of conversation he introduced himself, his name was Peter and he was a guard against the Blue Trolls. As anyone from that country wold be able to tell because of the buckets. Peter said he was sent out because some trolls had been seen at neighboring villages. Then Cordelia pointed out the blue smoke she had seen rising from the woods. After an appropriate amount of time he declared the roof fixed. Climbed down and headed on his way. Before he left he told Cordelia to be extra carful.

Now is a good time to clear up confusion about Blue Trolls. Blue Trolls are not blue. Their favorite color is blue so they always wear it. Their fire has blue smoke, and in the mud they leave blue footprints. Those are the main reasons why they are called Blue Trolls.

A week later the bucket man returned to the area of Cordelia's cottage and thought he would stop in to see if everything was fine. As he neared the cottage his face fell. It had rained the night before and in the mud were blue footprints. With each step towards the house it seemed another set joined them. When he reached the cottage itself it was completely surrounded by blue mud there where so many footprints. He ran inside and of course she wasn't there, franticly he looked around, his eyes landed on the red bucket, he grabbed it (though he was in a hurry he did notice the bucket was placed under the leak and that it was empty) and ran.

Following Blue Trolls after it rains is rather easy, but always dangerous. Into the woods the blue prints lead him. He ran deeper and deeper into the woods, they became so think he had to take off the buckets just so he could fit between the trees, he kept only the red bucket and the one on his own head. Then he was there, at their village (if such structures could be called buildings). There wasn't a troll in sight, but oddly all the footprints lead in the same direction, to the center of town. You might (just might) remember from the stories you heard when you were little that Blue Trolls enjoy having cats as pets (which explains all the cats that go missing by the mountains) Peter started coving himself with cats, so many cats that he looked like a ball of fluff. They clung on with their sharp claws, yowling and hissing. In such a state Peter entered the Green.

It was full of Blue Trolls, young and old all gathered to celebrate Great Great Great Grandma Blue Troll's birthday. In the center of the stage he saw what he had know and feared he would see, yet now that it was there before him he felt sick and weak and outraged.

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