User:Alfibart1

The Truterful Boshroom

‘You can’t do that!’ shouted Pompous, with his usual sneering tone, ‘there is only one way to catch a fluffhump, and you know it!’ The sun was just setting, and was leaving an immeasurable hue of violet on the western skyline, and it was the perfect time to hunt for fluffhumps, to heal the beautiful princess of her leeches. A fluffhump buzzed, and landed on my neck; I snapped at it, and managed to catch it in my mouth. I cried out. ‘How does defeat taste’? I tried to shout back smugly, but with a mouth full of crawling fluffhump, it came out more like ‘hoe doeshh pefeet paspe’? He looked confused, but I didn’t care, I had caught a fluffhump, and there was nothing stopping me becoming the village star, and getting a commendation. Or so I thought. The spade hit me right in the head, there was a sickly pain, and then the flashing blackness, I had to fight for consciousness, but with aching muscles, stayed just long enough to hear Pompous mutter ‘try catch a fluffhump now, slughead’, and feel him yank the fluttering fluffhump out of my bleeding mouth. I awoke, what must have only a few hours later, and sat up. I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my gut, and realised with despair, that, in his fury, Pompous had planted a bumfrog egg in my stomach. I considered all of the possibilities; I knew that there were certain ways to get rid of a bumfrog, but none of them could surpass as entirely possible in my mind. I only had a few days to be rid of it, lest it would burrow a hole through my bowels, and begin to eat my sweet fleshed heart. As this was not something that I wished to occur, I set off heading west, towards the land of the setting sun, where, I believed, there lived a high priest who, had once stated, in the time of epidemic ‘I will heal the wounds from any leech, bumfrog, or dweller of the abdomen for a man who has faith in the lord father’. I reached the small village of Pocroft in the early hours of the morning, as the sun began to arise from its deep slumber, and direct me west, I decided that there was no use in travelling to The land of the setting sun without a boghop, so with that thought in mind, I entered a small shop, near the towns centre, labelled ‘Fribillous’s shop for boghops, and other magical items’. I resolved that I should purchase a race-worthy boghop with the silver, that I had collected over the years, so I strode, arrogantly, straight to Mr Fribillous himself, and exclaimed ‘give me your most excellent boghop’. He looked doubtful, so I flashed my large bank of silver, and he immediately shot off to the back of his shop, to fetch the glorious item. He returned several minutes later, with a magnificent boghop, with two red racing stripes lining the roof and green tinted windows. I handed him the bag of silver, knowing that it would be more than enough, and began to climb inside the monster of a machine. The interior was made primarily of boggart leather but, on closer inspection, I noticed that the seats were lined with kaké jewels, at 5 cm intervals, and the smooth steering wheel was crafted from the strongest material known to boshrooms, Ropna. I powered up the jellyfruit powered engine, with a swift twist of my right hand, and felt the whole boghop come to life, and vibrate in my hands, and began to pull out of the pristine garage, chrome wheels rotating slowly. I knew it was perfect, from the first moment I saw it, but I soon realised that I had completely underestimated the power, as I shot down the midland desert. I had been cruising for a few hours, when I came across the first Bomrod. I had been warned about these creatures, but nothing could have prepared me for this beast, with its wide eyes, and bomb sacs hanging from its arms. It confronted me, with its mouth wide open. I knew this was a test to find whether I was scared so, shakily, I climbed out of my boghop, and confronted the beast, with my most fearsome face. At first he appeared to be thinking, reading my posture for signs of fear, but he soon plundered away into the distance. When he was about fifty nescouers away, I decided that I should attempt to continue on my way, so as to not lose time, so I slipped back inside of the boghop, and set off in the direction of the falling sun. I continued driving through the night, and managed to reach the land of the setting sun by midday. As I rolled through the crowded streets of the capital, I revelled at the young children, gazing at my boghop longingly, and the busy commuters, trying (but failing) to get to their measly jobs on time. I drove along the main high-street, and soon reached the temple; I pulled up alongside the giant building, stepped out of my boghop, and began to mount the golden steps. My heart was racing. I went through what I was to say to the high priest as I walked but, as they usually do at fearful times, none of them sounded quite right. It felt like I had been walking for hours, but eventually I reached the great iron doors of the temple. I foolishly tried knocking, but then blushed for my stupidity; no one would be able to hear the reverberations of a knock through these doors. I scanned the surroundings of the giant gates, and soon found a grey buzzer, on the right hand side of the door. I pressed the button, and a crackly voice spoke out, ‘who goes there’? I was, first shocked by this, but soon realised this was all for safety, in case a boggart or feebling tried to access. ‘Just a poor Boshroom, with a need of help’ I replied, and at that, the great iron gates swung open, to reveal the temple inside. I stepped inside, cautious at first but, then realising there was no danger, began to stride towards the main alter. As I approached the sacred alter, I noticed something, which I had not recognised before. It was a being, but not one that I recognised from my lessons at school; it had small stubby legs, a big white beard and a very large, pointy nose. Suddenly I recognised it. ‘Be you the high priest?’, I asked in an attempted-casual tone. The man coughed twice, the replied with a frail voice, ‘Yes, that is I, why is it that you ask’? I explained my story, as best I could, and he gave a short laugh. I enquired, ‘why is it that you laugh at my situation’? He said, in a characterful tone, ‘the act of removing a bumfrog is a very truterful one, if I may say so’? ‘Well, you see, truterful is the characteristic, that I was named after’. He gave another laugh, muttering things of coincidence under his breath, and pulled out a glass of red liquid. ‘Drink this flutter juice, and your situation with the bumfrog will disappear’. I slowly lifted the blood-like concoction to my lips, and gulped the revolting liquid down. The wise priest spoke again, ‘you must go now, and defeat the evil presence, that I sense, has plagued your village for numerous years’. I nodded my head, thanked the kind priest greatly, climbed into my boghop, and began the journey back to my hometown, of Latherakan. As I pulled into the town, where I had dwelled, for my whole life, I noticed something strange, something different. I could not put my finger on this strange presence, but I felt some unknown fury towards it. Then I recognized it; the great palace of princess Latherakan was decorated by the foul features of pompous boshroom. My face turned purple with rage, why had he got the commendation? He was no hero; he was merely cheating scum, who deserved to be punished. With that thought in mind, I had a feeling, which I had never felt before; it was a mixture of anger and hatred. It was the feeling, which you got before you killed someone. For I had decided now, that there was no use in trying to convince the princess, that it was me who caught the fluffhump, that would save her life. I had decided that Pompous must die. I walked into his bungalow, seemingly unfazed by the actions, that I was about to commit. I crept into his sleeping chamber, Bomrod-horn rimmed knife in hand. My mind was flashing, the world had gone insane, and I was the talisman of insanity. I was to kill the town hero. So at that, I raised the knife. And stabbed myself in the neck.