Post by stormphrax on Jun 10, 2007 10:51:20 GMT -5
Please read and critique.
Note: Buttonia is me.
Note: Buttonia is me.
Meepit vs. Feepit
The sun was bright in my pebble black eyes and hot on my blue speckled fur. My fuzzy tail waved menacingly behind me. I opened my mouth wide, displaying my fearsome teeth and roared out a battle cry.
“Feep!”
Alright, so not that terrifying but the crowd loved it. I flexed my muscles as my opponent swaggered into the arena. It was blue. It had enormous round eyes. It had a powder puff for a tail. Yes, that’s right, I was facing a meepit!
“In the red corner…”
I looked round at the fluttering pink threads behind me. A hastily crayoned paper flag had been stuck on top of them. What sort of a budget did this place have?
“…weighing in at two and three quarter pounds…”
I sucked in my stomach.
“..and making his debut here today, the Terror of Terror Mountain…”
Fixing what I hoped was a snarl on my face I growled at the spectators. A baby ixi waved to me.
“….the Feeeeeeeee-eeee-eeeepit!”
Ignoring the fact that the ixi found me about as scary as a cream bun I leered at my opponent. He seemed unfazed. Uh-oh.
“In the Blue Corner we have the horror of Haunted Woods. Fifteen bouts, fifteen knockouts. Weighing in at two and a half pounds, the undefeated reigning NFA Meepit vs. Feepit champion, the Meeeeeepit!”
I made a big show of yawning.
“FIGHT!”
I looked desperately around at the human giving me my orders. I found her, right in the front row, wearing a scarf that would have made Meuka wince (honestly, powder blue and neon purple?) and waving it above her head.
“Goooooo Feepit!”
I tapped my foot. I needed an order before I could move. The meepit was jogging on the spot waiting for my attack. Impatience took over.
“Hurry up will you!”
She looked around, startled, short brown hair flying in her eyes.
“Who me? Oh yeah, me, sorry, hang on a sec…”
I bit back on a sarcastic remark. I’ve always said that he customer is always right, although this philosophy was a little hard to apply as she hadn’t yet said anything. Buttonia, I think her name was, and it seemed that her ability to give instructions was about as good as her fashion sense.
“Jump!”
Like a good little feepit, I jumped. On the spot. The meepit continued to limber up. I rolled my eyes at the girl.
“Anything a bit more helpful?”
A blue zafara tugged on a sleeve of the girl’s sweater (bottle green, may I add) and she bent down to listen. I regarded them aimlessly. Then I regarded the quaint little houses lining the arena. Then I regarded the cloudless blue sky. Then the meepit hit me in the stomach.
Finally, the girl and the zafara looked up and noticed me lying on the floor.
“Oops.”
I was too out of breath to tell them exactly how helpful that comment had been. I gulped. The meepit was already preparing for his next charge.
If I had to sum up the way in which a meepit walks in a word, it’d be waddle. The cutesy little horror had waddled back to his side of the arena and was waiting for my move. He put me in mind of a spyder. With me being the vernax. A bead of sweat trickled down my back. The meepit grinned at me. It was not a nice grin.
“Bite!” commanded the girl.
“BITE!” echoed the crowd.
I walked forwards. The meepit blocked before I was halfway there. Feepits, if you hadn’t guessed, aren’t renowned for being speedy. The girl changed tactics.
“Jump. Bite.”
I jump-bit. The meepit and I connected with a thump that shook Neopia. White Weewoos twittered round my head. Luckily, the meepit was similarly dazed. We lay there for a moment, the judge’s stop-watch ticking away.
Then we got to our feet.
“Bite-kick-bite!”
Zafara girl was trying a combo.
I don’t know what it is about meepit vs. feepit, but the opposition always manage to pull of combos. If you haven’t already guessed, I didn’t. It wasn’t helped by the fact Buttonia had her mouthful of scarf. One again, I bounced along the ground on my behind as I was literally slammed out of the air.
Buttonia was still chewing on the edge of her scarf. She was nervous. Had she no faith in our fighting abilities? Then again, I didn’t have much either.
The meepit had my back to a wall and was hammering out blow after blow.
“I say,” I gasped, “at least give me a chance fight to back!”
The meepit paused.
“Meep.”
It continued to pummel me. I took it that ‘meep’ meant ‘not a chance’.
At last it eased off a bit. I vaulted over its head to land behind it. Now I was safe from all attack.
The meepit turned round. Maybe not.
Zafara girl decided that the best strategy was to duck, and block. I studied the crowd from underneath my left armpit. There was the usual gathering, plenty of petpets, a smattering of humans and – what in Fyora’s name where those?
There – at the bottom of the arena. Were they very small houses? No – too much glass and metal. Robots? Yes, that was more like it; the meepits were always worshiping some evil genius or another. It looked like this week it was Dr. Sloth.
It was as I was contemplating this that Buttonia suddenly discovered that you can’t hold a block forever.
“Meep?”
I have never known such a simple word to be so menacing. The zafara was whispering again, it seemed that the pair were growing desperate.
“Jump. Kick. Jump. Block. Bite. Forwards. Crouch. Bite. Kick. Bite!”
“What, all of them?”
Wham!
The stalls exploded in noise. The Dr. Sloth robot things bleeped excitedly to each other. The meepit was tossed into the air like a hero by three of its brethren.
“Meep! Meep! Meep! Yahooooo!”
I turned my fluffy tail and wept.
After two more agonising rounds I sat dejected on the floor of the arena, tears dribbling from my eyes for the third time. I could hear champagne corks popping. Talk about salt in the wound.
Sighing and glancing around aimlessly my gaze rested on the huge hill behind me. I wished I were on top of it. Well, to be quite honest, I wished I was anywhere other than that arena.
I eyed the distance from the top to the bottom of the mound, and then pictured myself racing down it, leaping over grassy hummocks, flowers twirling and spiralling away from my negg shaped feet. All in slow motion of course. I grinned a wistful grin.
Then my private fantasy was shattered as I noticed Buttonia standing over me. Behind her were standing the whispering zafara, a bored looking xweetok and a green gelert standing to tongue lolling attention.
She twisted the end of her scarf in her fingers and smiled sheepishly.
“Er… Play Again?”
The End
This story is dedicated to all the disgruntled feepits out there, but especially to the many (myself proud to be one of them) who, no matter how hard they try, never seem to get any better at this vexing game.
And to all the white weewoos that fly round people’s heads.
