6-12 (1)

## The Great Love of Sandromedus John Boye and Snake

One day, approximately 6.9 years before the events prior to this, Sandromedus had fallen in love. He had been sliding around, as you do when you don’t have legs, leading his crab army behind him. He had somehow found his way into Hell, because Landysandia has several shortcuts there. His crabs were enjoying the bread burnt by the flaming flames of a flaming place.

“Would you like sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssome glilk?” said someone with an outrageously fake hiss.

Sandromedus turned to see a vaguely humanoid snake holding a bowl of glilk. Despite not having eyelashes, because it was a snake and snakes don’t have hair, it was somehow wearing (yellow) mascara. It had horns, which made sense, given that this snake-mascara-demon monstrosity resided in hell. For some reason Sandromedus was attracted to this thing since he had weird taste.

I will spare you the details because this story is PG-13, and, in addition, I don’t really want to write about myself falling in love with a man made of sand, I’m not that weird, but over the years they fell in love. Since Sandromedus is an asshole he never bothered to learn their (snakes have no concept of gender, they’re snakes duh) name, he just called them Snake. He also frequently stole their magic mascara made of piss, since he’s an asshole.

They were happy together for a debatable amount of time and got married.

## A Cheating Scandal Because This is Just a Teen Drama

Sandy boy was laying down, next to his favorite crab general Krab. He was very loyal and was with him from the beginning of his life. Krab’s acting was very strange however, being more giddy and excited.

“My dear friend, why are you so happy? Nothing out of the ordinary has happened.”

“But alas something has happened! I caught sight of a muscular man in the dining hall, I wish to become like him! So large and firm he was!”

“Ah Krab you speak of Muscle Man. He is a good friend of mine, and maybe he tried to eat me once but yeah lets ignore that.”

“You know of the muscular man? Why please introduce me, it would be my honor to meet and train like him.” Sandy boy was a bit hesitant, he was after all rather violent and would gladly eat Krab. But eventually decided to meet him anyway.

“Come with me Krab, for I shall introduce you to Muscle Man.

“Oh thank you your highness! I am forever grateful, let us meet the Muscular man!” And they waddled over to the dining hall to find Muscle man chomping on Fish Fins. Sandy Boy noticed the way his shining white teeth ripped through the fins with precision, and the way his taut muscles showed through his taut muscles, because he wore no clothes and had no skin.

The three of them spoke for a while, wandering about the palace, before Krab scuttled off, mumbling something about “the author not knowing how to lead characters out of a scene”. Sandy Boy had no clue what that was about.

And so him and Muscle Man were left alone in the dining hall of the Sand Castle. They said some romantic Sblack Bart to each other that no one knows how to write because we’re in seventh grade and then they made out. I don’t know if Muscle Man has a tongue because I don’t know if the tongue is a muscle but they made it work.

Sandy Boy left feeling ~conflicted~, as all vertices of love triangles in bad YA novels do. Should he stay with his beloved spouse who he literally went to hell for, or meet up with this skinless dude in secret. Obviously, he went with the latter because Granny Boy got all the family brain cells.

## The Magical Properties of Soilk

Sblack Bart patted the seat next to him on the Arsonmobile.

“We’re going to your place because my *pissy* little brother is wreaking havoc at home," he stated nonchalantly.

Sandy Boye floated in on his train of sand and settled down. The Arsonmobile zoomed over peasants and leaped across the river, all while Swhite madly flapped behind him, trying to move everyone out of the way.

As the bones of mammoths crumbled under the flaming wheels of the Arsonmobile, the looming gates of the Sand Palace appeared. Sandy Boye did what he always did:

“Oi! Lil Piss!” he bellowed as he and Sblack stepped out of the Arsonmobile. “Your royal pissiness!”

Instantly, an annoyed face popped out of a window on the nearest tower.

“I’m trying to study, asswad!” Granular (granny) Boye was as pissed as piss.

Sandy Boye threw a rock at the now open window, which fell back from the force field on it, which landed in a bush behind the palace wall, which opened a scanner on the wall, which scanned Sandy Boye’s eyes, and fingerprints, and deposited a visitor badge from a chute below for Sblack Bart.

Sblack bart took the flimsy tin in his hand and burned it into a puddle.

Sandromedus decided to ignore this and instead asked,

“Hey, how was your day?”

Sblack shrugged. “You know, the good stuff. I burned down an elementary school. I destroyed their brand-new playground. It was *epic*.”

Sandy laughed. “Yeah, I fed my crabs and passed around some sand. He magically pulled out a giant loaf from his bread. “Speaking of that, can I, uh, have a little help here?”

Sblack Bart took the dough in his left hand and grinned. “You don’t even need to ask.” And he promptly punched it with his other hand, setting it aflame. He blew it out, and there was now a perfect loaf of toasty, crispy bred.

Sandy boy thanked him, and they continued into the palace.

30 minutes later

Sblack bart and Sandy were chilling in the cellar.

“This is the life, man,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the stocked shelves around them, and at Swhite, who was hanging from the ceiling in a birdcage, unconscious.

“Indeed,” Sandy hiccupped as he took another swig from his glilk jug. “To- uh, sand and arson!” he toasted, and Sblack raised his own jug, clinking it with Sandy’s.

Sblack chugged the milky liquid. It seemed magical, smooth, intoxicating, beautiful, like glilk, but so, so much more intense. It made his ears pop and his head spin, he felt like the blood was rushing to his head. Sblack Bart felt exhilarated, like he was flying through the sky on Arson Pony, his former steed. RIP Arson Pony, crushed in a windmill :(

This- this was *beyond* glilk. It was giggling and bubbling delightfully like if glilk was aged like a fine wine.

“Dude,” Sblack gasped, “what *is* this stuff?”

“It’s glilk,” Sandy slurred, his eyes rolling around in their sockets as he swung around his jug. “See? *See?* Read it, it’s —”

“Oh, fishk.”

Even as their vision got blurry and their heads throbbed, they could read the difference between *SOILK* and *GLILK*.

Sblack took another drink anyway. “So flavorful,” he murmured, slumping on the ground.

Sandy thumped him on the back.

“C’mon, ya wimp, drink with meee, less have a contes…”

He poured the expensive beverage over his head, and suddenly, his hair sprung up in rejuvenated curls.

“This little sblack bart is 69% soap,” Sblack grunted, and drank the whole thing. “Waiit, 69%

rubbing alcohol… or is it donkey milk?”

“Who cares?” Sandy slapped a random sack of rice and burped so loud, the walls vibrated. What a noble prince.

Sblack rose to his feet and yawned.

“I should go home, ya know, don’t want Octangula to worry… not that those firemen would catch me anyways.”

He promptly tripped over a bag of potatoes and fell face first on the ground as a thick smoke clogged the room.

Sandy coughed, his eyelids growing heavy. The faint shape of a muscled face loomed over him, and then everything went dark.

## The Life and Piss of Granny

Granular Dry Boye is nothing spectacular. And he knows it.

“Well, fishk you, Sandromedus," he cursed in a whisper as he kicked his door open (on the fourth try, because his feet are made of sand).

Sandromedus had interrupted his study session *on purpose! Again!* The audacity of his brother, throwing rocks and frogs at his window, and making fun of him for being a pissy child.

He’d just come with his friend Sblack Bart, who was admittedly handsome, but an absolute donkey’s *arse*.

Granny boye drifted down the hallway and the stairs on his sand, down more stairs, until he reached the last floor.

And suddenly, there was a *whoosh*.

The smoke was terrible. He was coughing and wheezing, his eyes were tearing up, and his head felt like it was pumped full of helium.

Granny Boye’s eyes drooped sleepily. He stumbled around the hallway blindly.

*Oh, brother, why must you treat me so?*

This must be another devious trick Sandromedus had planted.

As the air around him fogged, Granny could just make out the door to the palace dungeons, where there seemed to be thick, white smog pouring out.

He had been hoping to sneak some glilk for his (demon) cat, Ppiss, but that didn’t look like it was happening today.

And he passed out.

###### **COMMERCIAL BREAK!**

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It felt like hours later when his eyes slowly opened.

His back was completely numb. He lay motionless on the floor, still outside the dungeon doors.

There seemed to be shouting from the dungeons. He could hear Sblack Bart screaming and yelling curses. Sandromedus roared from somewhere down below, and made the unmistakable sound of a Sand Attack.

He could hear and feel a brutal battle coming from the dungeons below, and there was nothing he could do about it. Granny lay paralyzed on the floor.

There was a huge *clash!* and a *bang!* as a large metal object collided with the floor. An unfamiliar voice yelled, “Fishk! Give thy tendons!” and there was a sizzling sound. A wave of heat hissed through the door crack: Sblack Bart was committing arson yet again.

And Granny, being pathetic and paralyzed, decided to do nothing.

Another voice screamed and yelled, “There! A, uh, flood will do something!” It was such an angelic noise, the voice of this mystery man, Granny boy found himself thirsting for a voice—

Suddenly, all of the noise in the dungeon stopped. And it burst into laughter.

“Yes, Swhite, where’s the flood? In your pants?” Sblack mocked. “Oh, my pissy little brother, you will never beat my fire.”

Granny Boye felt something he had never felt before: pity. He had never ever known something to be even more pathetic than himself. He slowly got up (he was un-paralyzed)

Laughing at the poor man seemed to have brought the rest of them together, and as Sblack Bart, Sandromedus, and a weirdly muscly and skinless man came through the door, Granny Boye saw who was lagging behind.

Swhite.

It *was* him.

He looked so much better than Granny Boye had remembered, even though he was limping and bloodied from the various gashes down his limbs.

What a glorious being, what a perfect soul, the pure opposite of Sblack and Sandromedus, what a being to thirst for,

And then Snake swooped down, and bonked him.

He passed out again.

Granny Boye woke up in a prison cell wearing an orange tshirt labeled HAPPY JAIL . (He can’t wear a jumpsuit because his bottom half is sand.)

The steel bench under him was hard and cold. Something was ticking; he looked down and saw a timer branded on his t shirt.

5 days, 4 hours, 20 minutes until release

He looked around the small, bare cell and saw something surprising.

Sandromedus?

This prank has gone too far.

Or… was it real?

“Hey, you’re awake,” Sandy Boye remarked.

“What- what is this place?” Granny asked.

Sandromedus laughed wildly.

“This is Happy Jail, Lil Piss! Surely you don’t need an explanation, since you read all those palace guidebooks.”

Happy Jail? That meant-

Damn it. Swhite.

“Speaking of books, why are you here?” Sandromedus continued. “Did you find a textbook to your fancy?”

“What- *are you really-*”

Sandromedus didn’t seem to notice him. “Oh, let me guess, it was *History of* *Ancient Dunes* Volume XI!” he teased. “You were sleeping with it.”

Granny Boye felt his anger rising.

“Oh, no, was it *Planet of the Sand Phrogs* ? You know, it *is* interesting, and there *are* HD pictures of phrog piss…”

“That book is for sand-babies,” Granny retorted, hoping Sandromedus hadn’t found the signed copy under his pillow. Just the thought of sand phrogs sent an electric shock down his back, and his timer jolted as it readjusted.

5 days, 6 hours, 18 minutes until release

Sandromedus laughed so hard he fell on the floor in a heap of swirling sand.

“You-*you thirst for sand phrogs?!*”

Granny boye couldn’t take it anymore.

“He’s an actual human, you ass-nosed reindeer!” he exploded.

Sandromedus looked up at him from the floor incredulously, then wheezed, beating the ground with his fists. He was laughing so hard, he burst into a cloud of dust. It floated down slowly onto the floor where it settled.

Sandromedus popped out from the pile.

“Sorry, where was I?” His Happy Jail shirt flashed into existence with the timer still beeping on track. It read, 3 weeks, 4 days, 14 hours, 50 minutes until release. The words barely fit on the screen. Granny couldn’t help but notice how much longer his jail time was compared to himself. “Oh yeah, you’re thirsting. Let me guess, the palace librarian?”

He hunched over like the ancient and noble librarian of the Sand Books Palace Library. “Why, Small Urine, do you need help reaching the bottom shelf?” he mocked. “Oh, small child, the book on urination is right over there.”

“And you thirst for a pile of meat,” Granny grumbled. “A naked pile of beef who eats tendons.”

Sandy froze.

“What the fishk did you just fishking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Crabby Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Sanda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills.

I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire Crabbed armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fishk out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fishing words.

You think you can get away with saying that Sblack Bart to me in this cell? Think again, fishker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across Landysandia and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fishking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands.

Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Landysandia Marine Pincers and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little Sblack Bart. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little ‘clever’ comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fishking tongue.

But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will Sblack Bart fury all over you and you will drown in it.

You’re fishking dead, kiddo.”

“My my, someone seems a tad *touchy* about this subject.” Granny clutched his head in mock despair.

“Shut your fishking mouth you- you-” Sandy stuttered, giving up.

“Weird, isn’t it, getting bonked by your spouse?” Granny mused, avoiding eye contact. He giggled under his breath.

“Weird, isn’t it, getting bonked by your brother?” he replied, smacking Granny over the head with an exclusive edition, *Dunes & Nobles* signed copy of *Planet of the Sand Phrogs*, complete with a foldout painting of happy desert phrogs, taken from under Granny’s pillow.

As Granny fell unconscious on the floor, Sandy peeked through the bars of the cell cautiously, then motioned for someone to come. A towering figure made of raw, tAuT muscle slunk down to him. He looked left and right, then wrenched the bars out of the way, and reached in to rip the timer off of Sandy’s shirt. Grinning, Sandy took his strong hand, and they fled the scene.

**…**

###### To be continued…….

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## The Manhunt and the Scandal

Sandy grinned and eagerly followed Muscle Man. He carefully stepped between the misshapen bars, leaving his brother behind.

Hand in Hand, Sandy and Muscle Man dashed down the corridor. Well, Sandy sort of floated on sand, actually.

“You really came for me?” Sandy whispered excitedly.

Muscle man nodded.

“We gotta get out of here, though.”

A guard off duty eating a SandWich™ spotted the two fleeing Happy Jail. His jaw  (and sandwich) dropped. Then with (several) moments of hesitation, he began running down the hall in pursuit of the escaped Sandy.

“Now this is a fishking adventure!” Sandy whooped, pumping his fist in the air.

“Best adventure I could hope for is spending my life with you,” Muscle man assured.

Sandy’s sand-colored cheeks flushed.

“You might want to put on your seatbelt for that,” he laughed.

They ran down the hall aimlessly for a while, not knowing or really caring where they were headed.

Footsteps pounded loudly somewhere behind them. Incoherent shouting. Yelling, and the sound of baseball bats clunking around. The slithering voice of Snake, and another figure They were getting closer, louder, and angrier.

Muscle Man scooped Sandy up in his lorge, stronk, TAUT arms and dashed down the corridor.

“Sandromedus John Boye I, King of the Landysandian throne, Keeper of The Krabs,  this is the end. Our love is forbidden. You’ll be exiled.”

Sandy glanced up at him.

“But isn’t that what we want? I’ll never have to see Granny ever again, and we can live by the Oasis, by the Far Dunes. We could be happy there.”

A tear fell from Muscle Man’s eye onto Sandy. It was warm for a moment, then it disappeared.

“I wish we could do that,” Muscle Man sighed. “I will always remember you.”

He skidded to a stop and set Sandy on the ground. They had reached a dead end: the hallway stopped suddenly at a small window, perhaps the only one in all of happy jail.

The voices were approaching rapidly.

“Can I eat his belly fat once we kill him? You know, just wondering.” a somewhat familiar voice said. Another voice, a *very* familiar one, replied, “Yes, but we’ve gotta get him first, though, okay?”

“Deal,” the first voice said.

Sandy and Muscle Man both froze. *Which one of us? Am I really that fat?*

“Sh-she can’t be serious,” Sandy stuttered desperately. “She wants it? And Snake’s gonna let them do it?”

He and Muscle Man stared at each other, blue green eyes into dark grey. Both pairs could see no way out.

“Of course I want it, I've always wanted to know what the *King* tastes like!” The horror of those few words. PissCabinet appeared next to them, grinning. “It’s about time.” Smiling in satisfaction. And behind her, was *Snake*. Their livid look was more than enough to show that they knew about their relationship. They realized who they were after, who they wanted, and who Pcab was going to eat.

Sandy boy scrambled back, only hitting the solid wall again. He could try breaking open the window, but it was only a foot wide.

Muscle Man wasn’t doing anything either. He looked a lot more startled at this appearance than he should’ve, considering his great hearing due to his weird ears.

“Sssso, Ssssandy,” Snake spat/hissed. “You ththththought you could ththththwart me. You thththought you could keep a sssssssecret. You thththought *wrong*.”

Sandy conveniently did not reply. He was too busy trying to climb the wall to avoid being eaten. Alas, he was too fat.

“Snake, get someone to hold that pile of beef, he looks like he’s about to kill me.”

Snake rolled their eyes, snapped their snake hands, and a burly boa constrictor appeared.

“Yesss?” he grunted, swinging his huge baseball bat in an arc. It hit Muscle Man on the head. Muscle Man fell on the floor, and there was a red *tAuT* welt where it collided.

“Go sssqueeze that lump of beef, he—” Snake turned around and saw Muscle Man, unconscious.

“Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it Sandy Boy?” Pcab taunted, turning around to Sandy boy, crouched against the wall. He clearly did not want to be eaten.

“Do I get a pay raise?” the boa asked.

“Ssssshh, we’re busy,” Snake hissed, and waved him away. The boa awkwardly squeezed past them in the narrow hallway, back to guard duty.

“There's no one to save you now, Sandy Boy, Muscle man is unconscious and everyone here is on our side, you made yourself a *lot* of enemies.”

Pcab eyed Snake. They whispered something, and Sandy Boy was suddenly aware that two industrial strength baseball bats were coming down on his head.

As expected, he passed out.

## Snake's POV, for Once

“Sssssssblack Bart!” Snake cursed. The doors of the dungeon had been flung open, and a few wisps of smoke from Sblack Bart’s cursed *arson* floated up under their snake nose. Sandromedus would get a good, hard bonk this time. Not only did he have the audacity to thirst for a fat man wrapped in beef, *he had the audacity to escape happy jail*. Snake was going to bonk Sandy’s head, that sandy son of a sidewinder.

Snake opened a random door that suddenly appeared. It was a teleporting closet, stacked full of baseball bats and weedwackers.

After pressing a few buttons, and making some coffee, the closet jolted and an elevator ding sound from a hidden speaker.

Snake swung open the door, slithering out onto the white tiles of Happy Jail. There was no Sandromedus anywhere: only his pathetic little brother who was beginning to stir, still laying on the floor. There was a heavy book next to him. *Planet of The Sand Phrogs*.

“Where issss he?” Snake hissed dangerously.

“There's literally a trail; of sand over there, Forehead Skin,” the second in command snorted. PissCabinet stepped forward. “Look here. Do you see this? We call it *sand*. Sand dude always leaves a trail wherever the fishk he goes. Sand; *noun*: this Sblack Bart that’s annoying, gets everywhere, and is a beach, much like dear Sandromedus.”

Snake frowned. “Did you just make a pun, Pcab?”

Pcab imitated Snake’s expression mockingly.

“Oh, but did I, boss?”

Snake sighed and just gave up. “Listen here, you’re only second in command because Colonel Cornelius Cornsnake was crushed under a dune buggy. You can shut your hole and help me deal with Sandy.”

Pcab shrugged. “Only Sandy would leave such obvious tracks on the floor. This is *happy jail*. It is for *fancy people*. Sandy is such an idiot anyway, he doesn’t even care.”

There was a loud yell somewhere down the hall.

“We’ve definitely got him now,” Snake said, and they ran/slithered after.

“Can I eat his belly fat once we kill him? You know, just wondering,” Pcab asked.

Snake sighed and replied, “Yes, but we’ve gotta get him first though, okay?”

“Deal,” grinning and sprinting to the noise.

“Sh-she can’t be serious,” Sandy sputtered like an idiot. He must have overheard us, which means he’s closer than we thought. “She wants it? And Snake’s gonna let them do it?”

Snake’s tongue flickered and their eyes narrowed.

“Of course I want it, I've always wanted to know what the *King* tastes like!” Pcab impulsively leaped over to Sandy and Muscle Man. “It’s about time.”

“Sssso, Ssssandy,” Snake spat. Their fangs flashed in the dim light. “You ththththought you could ththththwart me. You thththought you could keep a secret. You thththought *wrong*.”

Sandy was as silent as a Far Dunes prisoner. He turned rapidly, trying to find an exit, attempting to climb the wall. His flab thankfully stopped him.

“Snake, get someone to hold that pile of beef, he looks like he’s about to kill me.” Pcab gave Sandy a disdainful glare.

Snake rolled their eyes and snapped their snake hands. A tingle went down their forearm. *Hmm, with this much power, who to call? Ah, he seems right.*

A burly boa constrictor appeared.

“Yesss?” he grunted, swinging his huge baseball bat clumsily. There was a *thunk*.

“Go sssqueeze that lump of beef, he—” Snake turned around and saw Muscle Man, unconscious on the ground. A trickle of *tAuT* blood ran down his forehead skin. *Seasoning for my snack!* Pcab seemed to yell. And Snake felt like they would’ve gladly shared that belly fat and forehead skin.

“Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it Sandy Boy?” Pcab said to Sandy Boy, who crouched against the wall with his hands over his head. His fear wavered in Snake’s nostrils. It smelled delicious.

“Do I get a pay raise?” the boa asked. He was still standing there like an idiot.

“Ssssshh, we’re busy,” Snake hissed, and waved him away.  He squeezed past them in the narrow hallway, back to guard duty he went.

“There's no one to save you now, Sandy Boy, Muscle man is unconscious and everyone here is on our side, you made yourself a *lot* of enemies.”

Pcab eyed Snake. There was something between them, the mutual urge to bring violence upon this sandy bItCh

“Let’s bonk him together,” Pcab whispered. Snake nodded, and they swung their bats down on Sandy Boy with a satisfying *thonk*.

Pcab grunted, and lifted Sandy’s body off the floor. She tried to lift Muscle Man too, but it was no use.

“Fishk this,” she swore, and shoved the beef lump off to the side. “This is the real prize, if everything went according to plan there should be some beautiful marbling here.” Jabbing his stomach.

Snake kicked him in the side. Nothing. Good. They heaved him onto a bonk cart, and wheeled him back down the hall. Pcab followed, dragging Sandy along. The sand and blood would have to be cleaned later, as there were too many things to do now.

Pcab pressed a small, hidden button on the wall. Two metal doors appeared where there once was nothing but blank, white walls.

The doors slid aside and there was a pristine elevator there.

“You know, we’re gonna need a reason why our dear sandy boy has died, got any ideas?”

Snake shrugged. “The usual. Got too happy, we bonk him, he dies.”

“Yeah but the public sure isn’t gonna settle with ‘bonk’.” Wheeling the bonk cart into the elevator, Pcab pressed the shut button.

Snake’s face hardened. “He deserves it. He one hundred percent deserves it.”

“He does, but Sandy is still beloved by the people, if we just go ahead with Happy then there will be an uproar, Sandy is known to go to happy jail and get away, so why this time?” pressing the button for the 3rd floor.

“He suffocated in the walls trying to escape, let’s say that.”

“Honestly, why not just release the scandal? You will look like the victim. Sandy cheated on his oh so caring spouse with a pile of meat. You will become beloved. It all works out does it not?”

“You would think it would,” Snake replied. The elevator began to move. The Coconut Song began playing on the speakers. The two stood in awkward silence for a while.

“Well I mean, what would go wrong with that plan? I mean seems all smooth to me, and the people already kinda like you? Like yeah you don’t look like the average citizen but you’ve treated them with respect and naturally when a Noble respects a commoner they become crazy popular.” rambled Pcab. The door opened and they walked/slithered out.

“You do realize, if Sandy dies, Granular is the next in line? He’s not quite as popular.”

Pcab laughed.

“You do realize,” mocking Snake, “That Granny would NEVER, Want the crown? He could stay in the library all day everyday and he would be perfectly content. He lacks the leadership skills that a ruler will need in case a war breaks out. He lacks the decision making skills a king needs, and he's also more or less really self conscious. Not a good trait for a king.”

“But then who will be king? Sandrew is getting quite old.”

Snake and Pcab wheeled Sandy and Muscle Man down another hall to their new prison cells, far away from each other.

“Well I mean,” avoiding eye contact, “you could always rule. Of course like if you don’t want to then i mean you don’t have to Haha i mean it is possible and very legal, You can read it in Paragraph 7 about royal heritage in the Constitution Of Sand that i mean the wife of the current King can rull if there are no other options but of course,” Speaking very quickly. “Oh and make Sure that Muscle Man’s bars are extra reinforced.”

“We can discuss this tomorrow. After the execution, of course,” Snake said. “I’ve already booked a bonkitine.”

## Not Quite Notable is Not Notable

Sblack Bart was on his way to the sand palace, and he stopped to see one of the greenhouses. He was not going to set anything on fire today, amazingly enough.

A small Wumpus suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Hi I’m a HUGE fan of your work i have the HD sblack poster on my wall it’s epic wait i haven’t introduced myself i am Not Quite Notable but you can call me NQN and i deliver packages for LSD emojis ‘specially and oh have i said how i am your biggest fan-”

At this point Sblack had picked NQN up in one hand and dumped him in the fountain.

The Wumpus peered from the fountain, and saw the sun gleaming on Sblack Bart, illuminating his form and body. It was like the album cover of *Lord Sand Phrog*. Sblack was hot. Not, like, arson hot, but actually. (insert nqn saying or doing something thirsty)

Snake swooped in, bonked NQN, gave Sblack a cookie, and left.

Sblack Bart waved goodbye mockingly as NQN slowly dissolved in the fountain, his body being transported to Happy Jail.

“Have fun,” he said, and left for the Sand Palace.