A Magical Story

(Winner of Tilan's contest! :D

**A short story by Onyx**

***Yes, tiny insignificant children. I will tell you a tale of magic, of mystery, of- Don't look at me like that, I promise it'll be exciting***- no, not 'exciting' like my other stories we're- like ACTUALLY exciting. Yes. It will NOT make you question life after words. People have said it actually has the opposite effect- it makes you question me! Yeah, isn't that great! No more conspiracy theories about VR and that junk, an actual, magical story. Would you like to hear it?￼

Once upon a time, in a forest where the trees swayed forcefully in the rings of a wind racecar track, there were three slime balls. Yes, children, circular, greenish slime balls. I assure you, you have never seen these little things before, and you don't want to. As in this wind-track, every two days, because, well, why not, they merged together, forming.. (insert Tilan's thingy :3) YES! GASP IN HORROR! It was terrifying- very evil too. It ate scalps. yes children, I am not lying. The broken, mangled wreck ages of the slime balls' victims had no scalp. Or jaw, I think. Yeah, they didn't have jaws either. What a lovely sight to look at!

These thingies terrorized many lands, stomping around and sometimes floating around in bubbles. Why? Because these slimy balls were made of MUSIC. …H-hey- th-this is no laughing matter! NO! DON'T LAUGH! This evil beast had absorbed the sound of beautiful, wonderful music and stolen it from the world, from the oddly yellowish, imaginary dragons that live on a hill. They were very sad.

Okay, I'm tired. You kids go to bed. Yeah, go to bed. Like I care if you won't sleep until your bones creak loud enough to be staircases.

Ugh, you DO though? Gosh, kids are whiny. Well, fine, I GUESS I’ll continue with the story. Tomorrow is my death day anyways, so why not tell one last tale? Mhm, I’m dying tomorrow. I figured 1,067,658,545,329 years was a long-enough lifespan, don’t you agree?

No, I will not hold you. BUT, I will inform you that turning around and putting your arms around yourself looks pretty much like it. If you’re okay with not seeing. Me talk. About this amazing story.

Anyways, a guy with long, flowing blonde hair from a town called Therapy Needed, yes children, there indeed is a place called Therapy Needed. DO NOT LAUGH. Then you’ll need therapy too. Anyways anyways, he stomped up, or out of his airplane, (as this man lived on an entirely different continent) up a mountain. To find the monster-slimeball thingy? No, to get permission from the yellowish imaginary dragons to get their music back.

No, he thought suddenly, as he was about to slide down the mountain like an oversize penguin. He turned back to the mountain and imagined that the yellowish imaginary dragons were there. Then they were.

“NO.” They bellowed. “DON’T TOUCH HER.”

“Touch what?" The dragons scoffed. "The music, obviously."

"Why?” asked Undefined. “I thought you wanted your amazing, incredible, beautiful music back.” The dragons shrugged. “She’s a friend of ours. We let her use it” Undefined’s eyes bulged out. “What? I thought she- I mean the monster- I mean she was evil!” The dragons shook their heads. “Nah. She’s just borrowing it.”

Undefined raised an eyebrow. “She’s been borrowing it for 56 years.” The yellowish imaginary stopped, thinking for a second. “We give you permission to smite her.” They said, starting to disappear. “Also, CHECK OUT OUR NEW ALBUM!”

“It doesn’t exist. You’re imaginary.” Undefined said. The dragons burst into tears, then were gone.

He proceeded to then penguin slide down the mountain, get back in his airplane, and prepare his weapons to take on this monster-slimeball thingy.

Now you, yes you, child on the left who I will call Tilan, I can see you are very confused and disturbed at this. First, this beautiful being you created is evil, and now this man with no name has visited some imaginary dragons from a place called Therapy Needed?

You are probably thinking what a horrible old man I am, to tell such a tale like this literally at 3:15 am in the closet of my deceased mother’s apartment which someone else now rents and parties in 24 hours a day.

Well, you would be right.

Isn’t it magical? Lemme guess, umm, I’ll say your name is Dwayne, a sort of rock-ish child, what a very nice name, I think you think that I think this is magical. But I’m not asking about myself, that’s being a showoff, I’d like to know what you think I think you think of this story. You think I think you think this story is boring?

NO! I wouldn’t be merely asking you if I thought you thought this story was boring. I’d be begging for your approval and sobbing my old man tears until this closet overflowed with lipids, water, mucus, salt, and all the other things tears are made of. And you don’t want that, do you? NOW TELL ME YOUR RATING ON THIS MAGICAL STORY.

10 out of 10? Yes, I thought so. Now I will continue.

ANYWAYS, Undefined flies his airplane all the way to where this monster thing is, which is… a faraway place known as Insert Name. Insert Name was- er, could have been, a peaceful town, of course if it weren’t for that slimeball monster that came every two days. Darn that slimeball monster and it’s inadequate timing! You’ve heard of every day, you’ve heard of every five days, but every two days. I mean, I personally prefer odd numbers over even numbers and will not count with even numbers, even if it lead my mother to believe I was insane, which I am definitely not, but- do not take this as opinion. Even numbers are bad for your health. They could eat your scalp off! Then your corpse wouldn't have hair. Hehe, you'd be a bald corpse.

Well this monster here was floating around in their wind-track and Undefined appeared. Out of thin air.

It wasn't actually out of thin air, as the air was pretty thick around Insert Name, but Undefined had fallen out of his airplane and fell there. Don't ask how he survived, because then I'd have to explain why there's a grave marking the spot￼

"HEY!" Undefined cried to the three slime balls, as it was not the second day yet. The slime balls jiggled, and he scowled at them. It was a very big scowl. The slime balls continued to jiggle.

"I will destroy you to get the imaginary dragon's music back!" Undefined screeched. The slime balls merged together, creating the dog-dragon thing. "I just borrowed it." She said. Undefined put his hands on his hips, eyes narrowed. "For 56 years."

She paused. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that." She frowned. "But I really like this song! It's sooo good!" Undefined nodded. "That doesn't mean you takey what is not yours."

The dragon-dog handed him a pair of Adidas.

Adidas were a prized thing here, kids. It was something that really only cavemans had- well, mostly because it was a sign of a professional caveman. Now and days they're just stolen because people want to be professional too.

Undefined cried out in delight, grabbing them, putting them on, and running off, never to be seen again.

. . .

The slime-ball monster turned away with a sigh. "Well, that's the 40th time THAT'S happened." She stalked over to her pile of corpses, laying down softly. "maybe I should give up this whole monster business. It's getting a little dull, and even numbers are just the worst."

She sat there, thinking for a while, before an idea popped into her head. "What if.." she mumbled. "What if.. I become a.. non-monster?"

She thought about this for a while, before nodding, certain. She turned back into the three slime balls, and attempted to make herself into the form of a person.

It turns out that instead of a female human, she looked preeetty close to a old man. Normal people thought she/he was insane, so she played to that role.

That's why she's sitting in a closet, telling a magical story to a whole bunch of kids.

**The End**