A Tale of Two Gardens

[unscratchedfoot]

Preface

Do you ever think about what happens when you decide to build a great wonder? Usually you just click on the item on the build queue, adjust the people in your city a bit for optimal performance and maybe drop a worker or 2 into the city. After that is a simple matter of hitting the enter key to end each turn waiting for your wonder to be completed.

One day while wondering if this was all there was to it, I put a microscope on my monitor to see what was happening among my loyal people in my city during my game. A tale rich in adventure and intrigue opened up before me revealing astonishing details of what was really going on. I realized the people involved in the project are just as hungry to finish it as the player and they will go to any lengths to be the first nation to complete it.

This is neither a serious story nor a funny one. It's just a tale to honor those who toil so hard to acomplish what we the players desire.



The Zulus Meet Mr. Lincoln



"We've brought you some symbols of our culture. Please enjoy them." Lincoln pulled some items out of a crumpled brown paper bag and placed them on the table before Shaka. He looked so out of place in his suit inside the straw hut surrounded by curious zulu rulers decked-out in their traditional garb.

Shaka looked with wonder at the strange things: the american flag, a food item which Lincoln called a 'hamburger', a package of flour or something with a picture of a hugely overweight zulu woman on it Lincoln referred to as 'Aunt Jemima', a doll named 'Elvis', a cowboy hat, and a painting of a market which showed people trading cows and chickens.

Shaka picked up the hamburger and looked at it closely. "Go ahead and try it. It's been a month on my ship, but it was kept in ice and is homemade - you'll love it!" Lincoln said. An american interpreter who had lived in Zululand for some time kept both sides informed of what each was saying.

Shaka gobbled down the stale hamburger and his face contorted. "Wahoola! Gohogla muheekomo swalamoko!"

"What did he say?" Lincoln looked at his aide.

"He said, 'Man! This tastes like an antelope that's been sitting out in the sun for too long!'" Lincoln's shoulders slumped and he looked a bit dejected for a moment.

Lincoln went on as he had planned. "The americans are the world leaders of technology. Shaka, you know your people are savages. But America has always tried to help backwards nations like yours for we want you to be prosperous and happy. So I will offer you a sweet deal. For your map of the area, all 53 gold bars you hold in the treasury, and a monthly shipment of 10 tons of ivory lasting for 2 years we will teach you how to build something that will astonish the world."

"And what might that be?" Shaka waited as the interpreter went about his duty.

Lincoln took a piece of parchment from the brown paper bag and unrolled it on the table to reveal a painting.



"Included with this painting are all the instructions written in swahili on how to build it. Your nation will be recognized as a holder of a world cultural icon. It will make your people happy and foreigners will flock to your land to live under the beauty of it. So whaddya say? Are you interested in helping your people?"

Shaka glanced at his comrades who displayed wide smiles and quickly said, "Okay. Throw in a shipment of cowboy hats for all my buddies here to wear and we'll take it. We trust the wisdom of our friend Lincoln."



10 Years Later


Aunt Jemima was a big woman. And her wit matched her size and for that she was the chosen one to supervise the enormous undertaking. Her name was given to her by the zulu people because of her likeness to the image on the pancake mix Lincoln had given them.

She knew how to treat the workers to make them work hard: the best food of the land, dance performances and lion wrestling every evening, and no whipping. She always tried to think of ways to expedite the project which seemed to have no end.

The garden was built on the side of a man-made hill which was formed in tiers. Earth was piled on each tier and water was pumped up through an ingenious engineering system outlined in the plans.

She watched the workers and shouted encouragement, "Bohaba! You drop that fern off the cart again and I'll have you planting poison ivy for the next 5 years!"

At night, the project area was quiet and still but for an occasional crash. The latest fad among young people was "plantation cart crashing". It was incredibly fun and as most good things, had a huge penalty to be paid if one were caught doing it by the nasty animal trainer Mageba, meaning 'dung face', who always had two hungry leopards on a leash with him while patrolling the site.

On one particular night, Punga and his friends were preparing one such cart. The idea of the game was to push a cart to the top of the project site, one or two kids get in and then another person gives the cart a big push down one of the many steep and treacherous courseways. The occupants couldn't steer it but the cart would eventually hit a curbway on the way down and spill the riders into the lush greenery which usually cushioned their fall.

The site managers, never considered to be cool by the kids, failed to see the purpose in the game and were vexed by the damaged landscaping and frequent trips to the hospital for the participants who missed the plants during crashes. Many of the exotic plants were being imported from abroad at exorborant prices given the primitive galleys used at the time so damage to them could not be tolerated.

Punga was actually of Babylonian descent, left behind by his parents 3 years before who were forced out of Zululand after trying to settle in it. His name meant 'pale monkey' because of his pale european skin and monkey-like physique he had inherited from his father. Some of the children had been captured by the zulus to learn about the Babylonian culture. Now Punga, at 13 years old, was fully assimulated into zulu society and had many friends. He had a mischievious streak in him that was sure to get him into trouble.

Punga got into the cart excitedly. His first trip down the courseway a few months back had been terrifying like a wicked roller coaster ride gone off track but now he was a veteran and needed his daily cart crash to keep stimulated. "Mtetwa, push me towards those cool-looking bushes over there!"

Mtetwa gave the cart a running push but tripped during the process. As Mtetwa groaned and fell to the ground, the cart swerved and went down a near-vertical path and then curved into a recently planted japanese sago palm imported for a good part of the nation's plantation budget. The cart hit the curb sideways and Punga spilled into the exceedingly expensive shrub and rolled down through the branches breaking many of them off.

Mageba came climbing up the path breathing hard and trying to hold back the 2 bristling leopards from making a meal of the monkey-like boy. "This is the fourth time I've caught you Punga. Aunt Jemima is gonna explode when she sees you again."

Mageba dragged off the terrified boy to be sentenced again by Aunt Jemima.



The Babylonians Start a Race to Build the Gardens


Aunt Jemima passed through the spearman at the entrance into Shaka's hut. Shaka was at the table sadly dabbling at a painting.

"What's up there Shak? You look like someone put elephant dung in your morning soup."

"It's Lincoln. He called the zulu people 'savages'. I can't forgive him."

Aunt Jemima looked closer at the painting which she saw was the one of the market the Lincoln had given him. Shaka had drawn on a chariot heading towards the market driven by a wide-eyed, frenzied zulu. Inside the chariot was a barrel containing a burning mixture of pitch, sulphur and resin the zulus had learned to make from the greeks.

"Aw c'mon now Shak. You don't wanna blow anything up just 'cause of one remark. Let's talk about the project. That'll cheer you up!"

"That's another problem. I've just started subscribing to the daily Babylonian Times and found out they've been building hanging gardens too for some time. You know only the nation who completes it first will get all the glory."

"Oooh no. We've spent so much time and resources on it. If we lose the race to build it we're doomed to be a third world country." Aunt Jemima added her own bit of lamenting and then her face lit up in a smile. "I know! Let's saboteuge their project! Hehehe, I'm so smart! Hmmm...who can we send there though?" Her big lips puckered as her brain went to work.

Just then, Mageba burst through the door holding Punga by the ear with one hand, and the 2 ferocious cats on a leash in the other.

[Metaliturtle]

Awesome beginning and interesting twist, I hope to see more

[dnassman]

I like this. Different to other stories. Keep going please.

[Verto]

Good plot and twist, waiting for more.

[unscratchedfoot]

Preparations



Aunt Jemima, having explained her plan, stood waiting for a reaction from Punga, looming over the odd little boy with all her volumnous mass.

"Oh great. I'm being sent to my peril by the hot cake woman." Punga said dismally.

The 'hot cake woman', so to speak, in addition to her nasty temper, was particularly sensitive to any analagies made between her and pancakes. Her massive jowls stretched into a grimace of immense fury and she held back her arm to strike Punga who's eyes had became like saucers and he put his hands out infront of himself in a futile attempt to block the expected blow. Punga had witnessed her wallop workers several times during arguments about where the plants should go. It was like being head-butted by a giraffe.

But the blow never came. Shaka was adequately wise as the leader of the country and knew they needed Punga to go on the mission rather than spend several weeks in the hospital. He stayed her hand by grasping her wrist from behind and said, "Dear Aunt Jemima, remember in life, one must bend like a reed in the wind. He is just a boy and must be expected to make such remarks."

"Yeah you're right I guess. He's too important to us now."

"But the mission sounds hard. I don't know if I can do it." Punga was nervous about taking on such a dangerous mission.

Aunt Jemima, quick to anger and just as quick to become jolly again, tried to cheer him up, "Don't worry. You're a brave lad. Those crazy cart crashes must be terrifying but you do it no problem. I could never work up the courage to try that."

Standing behind her out of view, Shaka held his nose trying not to laugh at the thought of her participating in a cart crash. It would be like a human wrecking ball smashing down through the plantation and would likely touch off a landslide that would set back the project by a year or two.

Then Mageba spoke up, "How many times must we endure this boy's foolishness? Do you understand the cost of these continual cart crashes? Sending this idiot on a mission with the reputation of our nation at stake is hardly the way to deal with this! He should be given a lashing!" Mageba was a bitter fellow who only laughed at others' misfortune. He resented seeing others having fun, especially at his expense.

Punga looked up at him with a pouty face, "Hey Dung Face, is it true you got your name when you were shovelling lion dung and you slipped and fell face-first into the slop?" Punga was a quick wit and never failed to return an insult for an insult, and he almost always referred to animals when constructing his comebacks.

Mageba grabbed Punga's ear again and savagely twisted it almost 360 degrees around. Punga fell to the floor holding his beet-red ear in sheer pain.

Shaka replied, "Mageba, it is best to think of correction methods which are constructive. That is why he's been made to plant stinging nettles after school everyday for 3 hours. It keeps him out of trouble and adds to the plantation. As for the mission, he's the best chance we have. He can speak their language and he is a native Babylonian so he can fit in nicely. A zulu spy would be caught in no time. Also, a young boy is much less likely to cause suspicion. At most, if caught he will be considered to be just a prankster. I know that he is an immature little fellow, but..."

"Yo Shak! Did anyone ever tell you you smell like a rhino's butt?"

"...with careful planning I'm sure we can work something out. Aunt Jemima, how do you suppose we can damage their project enough to give us an advantage?"

"Oh that'll be easy. I'll just order up some potions from our alchemist. He's bound to think up some nasty stuff that'll do the job and his concoctions are quite effective. Now he's got me taking a diet potion. Can't you see the difference?" She rubbed her wide belly happily.

Punga took advantage of the opening she had made, "Yeah maybe compared to an overweight elephant."

Villagers wandering past the hut wondered what the terrible sounds of screaming and crashing where all about. Occasional coherant lines could sometimes be made out, "No don't Aunt Jemima!!" "I'll kill you!" "Shut-up pancake woman!"



One week later

Punga entered the mysterious alchemist's hut behind Aunt Jemima. Once inside he was struck my the unusual scent of so many conflicting aromas from the ingredients hung all over the walls: scraggy black hair, squirrel toenails, eyeballs, a crocodile's tail, upside-down chickens with blood being drained into containers, countless herbs in jugs, rows of vials and gourds filled with multi-coloured mixtures and on and on.

"He's gone. He quit yesterday after we had a big tiff." Aunt Jemima said while examining some packs of powder left on the counter.

"I can imagine." Punga massaged his bruised head still sore from last week's row.

"But he did finish the order just before storming out of here. He made 4 kinds of powder for you to take with you on your trip: red, blue, orange and pink."

Punga looked curiously at the little pouches made from some kind of animal skin. On each pouch was written the colour of the powder. "Um, what do they do?"

"I don't know." She looked dumbfounded.

"Isn't that kinduv stupid. Like how am I gonna know how to use them? Duh."

"This looks like a parting shot from the alchemist. He made the powders but only wrote their colors on the pouches. It appears he's leaving it up to you to find out what they do. I do know that you have to mix them with water to activate them and that some of them are for damaging plants and some are for affecting the workers to make them unable to work."

"Okay. Let's try them out right now."

"No! You must wait until you are in Babylon to test them. I don't want to take a chance on anything happening to our project. Just mix them with water and test them on yourself and on some plants."

"Eh?! But I could die doing that!"

"Relax, relax. None of them are lethal and you just need to take a small sip of each to test it so the effect will be minimal."

"Uh okay. When do I go there?"

"Tomorrow. I've arranged a merchant ship carrying incense to Babylon to take you along. The trip will be safe and you'll blend right in when you get there. No problem."

[Yoda II]

Excellent start and looks to be a very interesting story. I cant wait to hear more.Keep up the good work!

[Mike maximus]

i think your story mings.

[Yoda II]

Theres always one. Anyway when will the next installment be I cant wait.

[unscratchedfoot]

Adventure in Babylon


Punga wandered around the fabulous garden for several hours waiting for the crews to finish-up for the day. He had arrived in the afternoon and spent a pleasant time touring the famous sites of the city like the Tower of Babel and the Esagila temple.

The trip overseas had been boring and uneventful. Punga had hoped that some pirates or sea creatures would attack the ship but nothing showed up. His only entertainment had been whipping the slaves pulling on the oars while shouting obscenities at them. He had no qualms that the poor slaves were native Babylonians captured during the Zulu-Babylonian war a few years before. The quartermaster had appreciated the volunteer labour and rewarded Punga with his own bull whip.

The garden was an astonishing site with its impressive tiers chalk full of exotic shrubs, herbs, flowers, rare species of trees, and....animals! Punga looked with apprehension at a family of racoons, 2 big ones and 3 small balls of fur, scurrying up a tree. The presence of animals meant that the Babylonians were at an advanced stage of construction for the addition of animals was one of the last steps of the project. He would have to act decisively. The entire future of the zulu nation rested on his monkeyish shoulders.

Punga hid in a thick patch of bamboo until everyone had left. He made his way into a park maintenance shed and found a small blue bucket and a spring of water. His hands shook as he took out a pouch from his bag because it had been 2 weeks on the merchant ship and he was suffering from cart crashing withdrawal symptoms. He dumped some of the pink powder into the bucket with some water and gave it a good stir with a twig.

He looked warily at the bright pink potion bubbling up. 'Only one sip. I'll be okay. I think.' He squeezed his eyes shut and tipped up the bucket and took in a small sip. Nothing happened. Why? Maybe it was for damaging plants he thought. So he headed back outside to find a specimen.

Upon exiting the shed he beheld a sight more scary than anything he'd ever seen before. The plants had transformed into viscious man-eating plants and the animals had become the most vile species he knew of - various snakes, spiders, ghastly lizards, etc. A huge oak tree had become Aunt Jemima herself with a look of rage on her face and her countless arms swinging around hoping to grab onto him. But Punga, despite being young and immature, knew right away that it was just a hallucination of fear induced by the potion.

He reached up to leafy branch rustling in the evening breeze which appeared as a snapping carnivorous cobra lily to test his theory. The leaf brushed his hand and Punga, expecting to feel nothing, jumped like a jack rabbit on steroids in fright.

Having proven the innocence of the plants, he returned to the shed to wait for the potion to wear off. He noticed with interest that the pink potion in the bucket had returned to a natural water color. After an hour or so he sought out the water fountains supplying the living quarters of the workers and dumped in the contents of the pink powder. Hopefully the potion was potent enough to last for a month or more in the water system.

He returned to his bucket and tested the yellow powder next in the same manner. After sipping the potion, he felt a surge of energy go through him, making him very hyper. He ran around the shed many times and jumped up and down seeming never to get tired. But however much he thought about it, he just couldn't think of what the potion was meant for.

He moved on to testing the orange powder. As soon as he sipped the potion his mouth and throat burned as if he had drunk greek fire. He quickly gulped down some water to dilute what he had drunk. After rolling around on the floor holding his stomach for several minutes in acute pain, he surmised that it was a kind of plant killer formula.

The main water resevoir of the plant irrigation system was located on top of the hill of tiers. From there the water was channeled down through the gardens in thousands of pipes and sprinklers. Punga started the steep walk up to the top and made a disturbing observation. All of the walkways, tiers, plant types, and water distribution routes were identical to the zulu's project. Added to the this was the fact that the babylonians were further ahead in their project and Punga put 2 and 2 together to make an important discovery: Lincoln had sold the project plans to the babylonians before the zulus.

Punga quickened his pace and thought, 'I have to get back to Shaka to tell him about Lincoln's double-dealing treachery. Hopefully, this may even start a war if Shaka gets riled up enough. It'd be cool to see the americans get their butts kicked.'

He found the main resevoir and dumped in the orange powder with shaking hands. Now was the time, he thought, to stop this shaking. He quickly looked around and spotted a nearby cart ready to go. It wouldn't be nearly as fun without his buddies but he needed to calm his nerves before it got any worse, and besides, he had to go back down anyways.

He aimed the cart at a nice steep courseway, jumped in, and using his foot against a tree, propelled himself forward. The cart hurtled down the frightenly steep path and continued to pick up speed until he became almost a blur going through the gardens. He leaned back in the cart and relished the calming effect it had on his frazzled nerves.

Several tiers down, a japanese ambassador was trying to get romantic with a female member of his entourage. "Ah, kimi wa kono subarashi niwa yori mo motto kirei da zo." (oh baby, you are even more beautiful than this splendid garden).

Akiko looked over his shoulder just in time to see Punga zoom by. "Hey suge-! Saru wa koguruma ni nottieru wa yo! Yonaka no entateinmento mo arunda! Umai!" (Wow, there's a monkey riding a cart! They even have nightime entertainment here! Cool!)

The courseway came to a fork and split perpendicularly right and left. The cart shot into the vegetation and when the wheels slammed into a protruding root, Punga was catapulted into the lush shrubbery. He went crashing through a large fern and rolled over and over. As he was rolling he saw the usual things: ground, plants, sky, ground, plants, black and white thing, sky... Wait, what was that black and white thing!?!

Punga came to rest under the ample branches and for some reason could see the bottom of a small paw an inch from his eyes. The skunk had positioned his hind leg over Punga's face in preparation to unload. The orange petrid slop spewed forth over his face, and the skunk being a veteran from several encounters with unfortunate plantation workers, knew just how to swivel his body in mid-spray to achieve maximum coverage.

The japanese ambassador, thinking the 'entertainer' had been injured, called for the guards.


*********************************************

Puzzle Time

The first person to figure out what the yellow powder was supposed to be used for gets the rare honor of becoming a guard in my story.

[Yoda II]

Great story keep it up!

P.S The potion was for making the guards distracted while Punga destroyed the project.

[unscratchedfoot]

Thanks Yoda for the input. Sorry but your answer isn't correct. By the way, Punga didn't figure out how to use the potion so it was not effective in any way.

[steven8r]

Since it made him hyper, perhaps it could be:

1. An extreme stimulant for the workers. They will work much faster causing more errors/mistakes--perhaps even devistating ones.

2. A plant growth stimulant that will make the plants grow too fast and take over the gardens making the pathways inaccessible to the workers. An added benefit of this accelerated plant growth would be that after growing violently fast for a short period of time, all the plants would then die.

3. A variation of #1 above. A potion to make the children of Babylon hyper and/or adrenaline junkies so that they would take-up 'Cart Crashing' on a massive scale and set-back production of the Babylonian Gardens so that the Zulus would have a chance to catch up.


I'm enjoying the story and patiently awaiting the next installment.

Good work.

Edited: changed 'make' into 'made' in first sentence and added

[unscratchedfoot]

You got some good ideas there steve. Unfortunately you didn't hit on the correct usage of the yellow potion yet. I'll wait a bit longer to see if anyone can figure out the correct answer before I continue the story.

[unscratchedfoot]

Interrogation



The procession taking Punga to the royal chambers of Ishtar to be interrogated


The guards, thinking Punga was just a rampaging kid playing with a cart and skunk, were understandably reluctant to aproach the boy so they tied his feet together and dragged him by a rope along the ground to the nearest spring. His back and butt burning in agony from being dragged along the dirt and stones, Punga gasped to try to draw air into his protesting lungs. The aroma of the skunk fluid was beyond what he could bear.

The guards sloshed water over Punga which further burned his skin from the recently added plant killer formula already spread throughout the irrigation waterways. He wondered if the unending series of pain this adventure was putting him through would be appreciated by Aunt Jemima. More likely, she would just let out a jovial woop of laughter if she knew what was happening to him.

Punga endured the painful procedure of being cleaned and was taken to Ishtar and tied up on a wall spread eagle to be interrogated in the usual fashion. He still stunk terribly by morning which was a plus if the torturers were unable to stand being near him.

A muscular man in expensive looking robes stood before Punga and spoke in a deep stern voice. "Good day, little monkey boy." The guards and government councilors behind him chuckled in respect. "My name is Nebuchadnezzar II, chairman of the councilors of Ishtar and the ruler of the sacred kingdom of Babylon. You may call me 'Neb' in short because everyone else does. My people have become sloths due to the riches of our land and are too lazy to say my full name."

"Aiyeeeeeeeee!!! May the gods deliver us!! I would rather die on your spears than go into that hellhole!!" Everyone in the the room spun around to look out at the garden where the screams were coming from. Spearmen were trying to coaxe the workers into the garden to begin the days duties. Most of the workers were on their knees shrieking in terror. Apparently the pink potion had taken effect.

"Can anyone tell me what's going on here?" Neb asked.

An out of breath guard came running up to the interrogation chamber. "Supreme Councilor, the men are too afraid to work. And to add to the problems, the plants all over the garden are quickly wilting for lack of care." Obviously the guards had not found out the true cause of the dying plants.

"Nothing the project managers won't be able to handle. I handpicked them myself. Anyways I have an interrogation to perform if you don't mind." Neb stood proudly as the guard bowed deeply and sped off.

"So, are you going to tell me who you are and just what you were doing last night in my precious gardens?" Neb eagerly showed off his machoism by braving the stench coming off of Punga.

"I ain't telling you nothing! Why are you so upset anyways? Afraid this garden won't be finished in time to impress your girlfriend?"

Neb turned a bit red and never bothered to dispute the allogation. "Well boy, let me tell you this: either you answer my questions in a cooperative manner or we begin the torture procedure. Which is it gonna be?"

"I'd rather eat rat dung than give in to you."

"That may be an option. Guards! Have one of the workers bring in a nice healthy poisonous devil's club. Plus any rat dung you see along the way." Neb smiled fakely at the doomed boy.

Soon after, a worker at spearpoint came running in holding a withered version of the prescribed plant. He was holding the plant at arms' length with a look of sheer terror etched on his face. He deposited 'the huge wriggling tarantula' infront of Neb and ran in panic from the room begging, "Please don't make me touch another of these monsters!"

Neb reached down and picked up the rather harmless looking half-dead plant, its big pointy leaves wrinkling and fading. He took out his sword and slashed at Punga's torso in a blindingly fast motion.

Punga shut his eyes waiting for death. He could feel the sword passing through his tunic, but failed to cause even the slighest scratch on him.

Neb rubbed him with the devil's club and said, "Now how do like this little monkey boy? Hehehe."

Punga hardly even noticed it for his body was well-conditioned to plant poison from months of planting stinging nettles everyday, and what's more, the plant was almost dead anyways. "Thanks for the massage Neb. Devil's club is good for the skin don't you know?"

Neb snorted and swung the plant back over his shoulder causing a guard to duck the wild flying vegetation. "Looks like we gotta bring out some heavy artillery. Guards, go fetch Enlil and don't take any excuses from him. I refuse to be ridiculed by a mere boy."

After a long wait with Neb pacing the floor and the screams of the workers still resonating throughout the stone corridors, an elderly man with scraggy grey hair billowing off his head and a beard almost touching the floor came wandering in. He looked bored and somewhat annoyed as he eyed Neb suspiciously. He spoke in an arrogant, sarcastic tone, "So what have you disturbed me for today Oh So Great One?"

Neb had endured Enlil's sarcasm and scathing remarks since he had been a child. He knew that Enlil possessed an intellect unequalled by anyone in the known world. Such a powerful asset was worthy of a little humility. Enlil had propelled his father to greatness at a time when Babylon had been considered a primitive, weak nation destined to be ruled by others. Enlil's phenominal ability to outwit opponents both in diplomacy and war had earned him his reputation as a supreme genius. Time and time again superior foreign armies had been lured into diabolical traps and their nations' leaders humbled into accepting burdensome peace arrangements.

"Enlil I'm sure the guards have briefed you on the situation we have here?"

"Yes, and it seems you think little of my time to be calling me up to find out about a lost boy!" Enlil had a whiny, high pitch voice loaded with haughtiness.

"It's just that strange things have been happening here and I feel there may be more to it than what meets the eye."

"All the screaming going on at the garden?"

"Yes"

Enlil walked outside to look over the stone railing. After a moment of observation he returned to the chamber. "Neb, how long must I endure your stupidity?"

"What do you mean?" Neb stood with his head high and hands clasped behind his back, and despite being the supreme leader, actually looked nervous.

"The workers have obviously been affected by a foreign substance either in their food or drink. I suspect a spy may be at work here."

"Um, what makes you think that Enlil?"

"Well, if only the workers have all become strange, and none of us have started screaming, what do they all have in common that we don't? Obviously they eat and drink in the same mess hall don't they? Now is there anything of a more challenging nature for me to do here or may I take my leave?"

"Guards go have the food and water in the workers' mess hall tested now!" Neb shouted at the guards and a couple of them ran off. "The reason I called you here Enlil was to interrogate this boy as he refuses to give me any information at all."

"Hmmm, alright. Give me ten minutes to speak with him and then return. I shall give you the information you need at that time."

"Ah, okay. And good luck 'cause you'll need it with this brat."


10 minutes later...

Neb walked into the chamber with a small smile on his face, "So what did you find out?" Neb was sure that with Punga's attitude he had finally snared Enlil with a task he could not handle.

"We had a very interesting discussion while you were gone. I noted that during the course of exchanging pleasantries with the lad, he repeatedly insulted me, comparing me to such beasts as a pygmy chimpanzee, a wild ass, and a mountain gorilla. Can you see anything of significance here that may aid our investigation, Neb?" Enlil was fully aware he was being challenged by Neb and had shrewdly turned the tables on him.

Neb knew Enlil's style from countless similar experiences and racked his brain for an answer by considering every possibility. After a long moment he said, "Ah I see. Maybe his parents work for the zoo or something and we just need to ask each of the zoo workers if their child has gone missing."

"Neb?"

"Uh, yeah?" Neb gulped and a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.

"You are an absolute moron." Enlil's aristocratic tone further enhanced the humiliating experience for Neb. "Even an utter idiot could see that each of these animals lives in Africa. Through daily exposure, one tends to refer to things they are most familiar with during conversation. Don't you remember that the zulus overan your colonies in Africa, which I had repeatedly warned you not to set up I should add? And at that time a number of children were reported as captured by the zulu forces? So I must say, what we have here is a zulu spy. And he is likely responsible for the contamination of your workers' mess hall."

Neb could make no response to Enlil's irrefutable logic. He just stood looking uncomfortable, having been yet again made to look the fool.

"Now that our business is done I will return to my project." Enlil turned and walked towards to the archway from whence he had come, his raggedy, old robes and unkempt hair waving in the breeze.

"Hey Mr. Longbeard. What's your project? Learning how to chew sugarcane and walk at the same time?" Punga's squeaky voice piped up.

Enlil abruptly stopped and whirled around. "Actually no. My project is space travel. I'm building a craft that will allow colonization of distance planets."

"Space travel? I bet you can't even get off the ground."

"To tell you the truth, my problem with the test shuttles is the resin and bamboo structures burn-up upon re-entry into the atmosphere. Thanks for your interest in my project. I hope for your sake that your execution will be a painless one." Enlil turned and walked through the archway.

"Space travel! You see! The Babylonians are advanced!" Neb said.

"He's joking you idiot. Hey, am I really going to be executed?"

"Yes, I'm afraid. It's stated in our law that all spies must be killed."

*********************************************
Stay tuned for the action-packed next episode. The yellow potion puzzle is still waiting to be cracked!

[GeneralTacticus]

Is it to help Punga escape?

[unscratchedfoot]

no

[Metaliturtle]

it was to prevent butt-burns, unfortunately for Punga, he didn't know how to use it, so his butt burned.

[cbraund]

Some kind of plant hormone(can't you tell I've just done my damned Science GCSE lol)?

Or was it to make the animals hyper so they'd eat all the plants or destroy them, or attack the workers?

Anyway, cool story, very funny and with some great sarcasm!

Oh, and gotta like Punga!

Chris

[Yoda II]

This has to be the best story of the lot, Please carry on.
And the potion was for making they workers attack each other and the project.

[beno]

perhaps the yellow powder is some kind of aphrodisiac used between the mysteriously missing voodoo bloke and the pancake woman. Either that or its her diet potion. But anyway - keep going, I'm sorry I hadn't voted for this, as I've only just got around to reading it from the start. looking forward to next instalment.

[unscratchedfoot]

Metaliturtle: prevents butt-burn? LOL
cbraund: closest answer yet but not quite
Yoda II: thanks for your support, good answer but not what I have in mind
beno: your ideas are very funny and I fear they are better than the real answer

BTW: I'm on holiday right now and don't have time to finish another episode just now (although it's all planned out already) and I only have a mac to work on (man do I miss my PC!) so please hang tight for a bit until I get a chance to continue it.

[Metaliturtle]

you've gotta be on crack if you're working on a Mac

[unscratchedfoot]

Aunt Jemima Makes a Move


The dozen or so warriors, breathing heavily from rushing after being hastily summoned and wondering what could possibly cause such a stir in the peaceful lands of the zulu, gathered to hear the urgent orders from Shaka. Was there an elephant stampede approaching their huts? Did someone mention pancakes around Aunt Jemima again? Or perhaps it had something to do with the recent epidemic of mad alligator disease infecting tribal folks?

Shaka stood infront of the group of warriors. They were the cream of the zulu heavy infantry division uThulwana. Each warrior was clad in traditional zulu fatigues which were mainly just an animal hide loincloth and a double necklace with nothing else. Their pot bellies hung over the loincloths, accentuating the skinnyness of their arms and legs. Their armament consisted of a short stabbing spear, and those who had bothered to bring one, a rectangular shield. No one in all of zululand would ever dare to contest these brave and powerful warriors who had never known the taste of defeat. Then again, there really wasn't anyone other than zulus in zululand to test their military prowess.

Shaka held up a drawing on some parchment for all of them to see. They had not learned yet to read so they just stood there tilting their heads to one side or the other trying to make sense of the writing.

"Do you know what this is?" Shaka's voice quivered with fear and anger. "This is today's copy of the Babylonian Daily. It says Punga is lying in a dank Babylonian prison awaiting execution and that he is accused of spying. It also says he was interrogated by their chief scribe known for his formidable techniques and was tortured horribly at the hands of Nebuchadnezzar himself. He's one of us. I know he caused lots of havoc and we may have already finished the gardens were it not for him, but ..." Shaka looked dejectedly at the ground for a moment and shook his head with sadness before looking back up and yelled thunderously, "He's our brother I tell you! And we're gonna get him back here no matter what it takes!"

Shaka's passionate outburst infected all those present and loud cheers went up as well as angry shouts for vengeance.

Shaka continued his passionate yelling, "And do you know what your duty is today dear brothers?" You're gonna go out and FIND Aunt Jemima and tell her to GET BACK HERE so she can take care of it!" The warriors cheered again and each ran off in different directions through the village searching for the great heroine. Several of them stumbled and crashed into each other landing in a heap trying to be the first to find her.

One such warrior, Sihayo, knew the best way to find the woman. He ran away from the commotion of the chest-beating warriors and stopped to listen behind a row of commercial huts. Sure enough he heard a loud whooping sound reverberating from one such hut and knew he had hit paydirt.

Inside the tavern, Aunt Jemima was enjoying her day off with her best friends Marge and Bertha. They exchanged jokes and funny stories and when they laughed, their rolls of fat jiggled all about just like huge waterballoons going through an earthquake. At the moment Aunt Jemima was just warming up to deliver the punch line to the eagerly waiting tavern crowd. Everyone sat on the edge of their seats ready to burst out laughing while Sihayo slipped in the door unnoticed.

Aunt Jemima continued her joke story, "So can anyone guess what the little bird said to the big, fat, foul-tempered hippopotamus?"

"Hey Aunt Jemima, come with me!" Sihayo shouted, not realizing he had unwittingly brought a deathwish upon himself with the ill-timed message.

Aunt Jemima lunged furiously towards Sihayo while Bertha and Marge grabbed her arms to prevent her from beating him to a small pulp.

Sihayo squealed out, "It's about Punga! He's been captured by the bab's and they're going to execute him for spying!"

The big aunt stopped in her tracks and a stressed look replaced the fury. "What?! Are you serious?"

"I swear it's true. Shak wants to see you urgently at the elders hut to discuss reaction plans."


to be continued.....

Punga in prison

[Yoda II]

very good, keep it up please

[TheGuitarist]

This is great - keep it up. Interesting new take on storytelling. It's kind of a dramedy of sorts. Cool.

[unscratchedfoot]

The people of Zululand all along the coast looked out with wonder across the water as the war galley made its way into the brilliant orange sunset. The pointed ram gently scythed its way though the water towards the distant city of Babylon, driven by a single sail puffed out by the soft evening breeze.

The only sounds were the bongo drum's beat and the sloshing of the water caused by the many oars churning their way on. Occasionally came a clank when the oars didn't quite match the rythym, followed by an inevitable exchange of curses among the oarsmen.

"Where did you learn to pull an oar, you mangy hairbag!?"

"You stink like a camel! How can I concentrate!? And will ya stop singing that song about a jolly green giant!"

Aunt sat crosslegged on the deck, hypnotized by the beat of the drums and the serenity of the sunset. The sinewy drummer also sat crosslegged, facing the rows of oarsmen, "bab's", captured during their failed attempt to colonize Zululand. She forbade the whipping of workers for it was against her motto: "Only hurt those who are about to hurt you. And hurt them bad." In place of the whipper, a man skilled in the playing of bongo drums had been called forth. Not surprisingly, the workers had actually became more efficient and the number of 'clanks' was drastically reduced.

During the emergency meeting to discuss reaction plans to the capture of Punga, Shak had authorized her to use all available means in obtaining the release of the monkey boy. The entire nation had taken the issue to heart, and the imprisonment, or worse yet, execution of one of their people could not be tolerated.

Aunt Jemima was coming. And nothing would stand in her way.

Or so the zulu people thought.

[unscratchedfoot]

Enlil Speaks with Neb


King Nebuchadnezzar II came out of the steamy weight training room, a dark stone room filled with grunting, shapely men and women, all of whom had passed a stringent test to enter the sacred training room of the elite. Having completed his hot and cold baths, Neb's royal slaves towelled him down as he held up his arms.

For Neb, training, both weights and martial arts, was the basis for manifesting power through politics, business or whatever one may engage in. To him physical power meant power in any form, for a weak man could not be depended on to perform well in any function. Thus he trained for hours each day to be the powerful leader he was.

Next he went to the refreshment area where atheletes relaxed after their work-outs and received massages while drinking such things as carrot juice or the latest potions and concoctions promising to pack on the muscles.

"My specialty, as usual," Neb called out to the bar tender and layed down on the curved marble slab to receive his massage from two curvy women, experts in the art. He then snapped his fingers in the air in a haughty manner.

A nervous messenger boy ran up. "Yes, your highness!"

"Go fetch me Enlil, and tell him it's an important matter I have to discuss." Neb smiled contently and closed his eyes, enjoying the massage while the boy ran off. Neb considered his life of luxury and indulgence a privilege, a reward perhaps, for his diligence in building his "power".

Meanwhile Enlil was addressing his junior research scribes, all wannebe Enlil's who virtually worshipped his profound knowledge in seemingly all areas.

"You did well. Perhaps someday even you will eventually gain some basic competency in the field of chemistry. Many aspire to attain the knowledge I have, but few will come to experience what it is like to really be a genius." He looked over the many samples of elements and in powder and liquid forms assembled in perfect order on the table before him. "Exactly what I asked for. And in such pure forms too." Enlil nodded with satisfaction while closely examining a pinch of red powder taken from a sample.

"As I have told you, you will be mixing small amounts of each sample with one of each other sample and applying a small flame to it to test for chemical reactions. Note down any kind of reaction on parchment. When you finish, then try mixing three of each together and so on."

"Chief Scribe, may I ask what applications this experiment will lead to?" An eager young women spoke up.

"I'm trying to develop a type of propellent from which we could harness its energy somehow with endless possibilities. Think of travelling or doing hard labor without the use of animals. Or maybe if the reaction is robust enough we could even fashion some kind of weapon which could launch pieces of metal at enemies from afar and cut them to shreds. We would no longer need to risk the lives of our swordsmen." Enlil smiled evily for effect. The scribes looked at him with reverence.

The messenger boy came running in, his cheeks red, flushed with the effort of trying to please the king. "Chief Scribe Enlil, the king has called for your presence! May I inform him of your coming?"

Enlil sighed deeply and said, "So Neb has need for me to answer more questions with conspicuously apparent answers. I suppose this is what I get paid for." He wandered slowly off, following after the nervous messenger boy who clearly wished Enlil would move faster.


The two glamourous women were just finishing Neb's massage when the bartender brought over a large mug of a thick grey health drink.

Enlil arrived in the refreshment room just as Neb was in the middle of gluttonously gulping down the drink. "You called, your highness?" There was no mistaking Enlil's sarcastic, whiny voice.

Neb put down the half-finished drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yes, I've been pondering something and would like to hear your insight on the matter."

"And it is...?" Enlil looked impatiently bored.

"Why do you think the zulus would try to make all our workers scared of plants? Do you think they are trying to interrupt our construction of the gardens by any chance?"

"Uh...yeah I think that would have a lot to do with it there Neb. Uh huh." Enlil nodded repeatedly with a slight grin.

"But why? We've never really had any dealings with their people. Our cultures are so different and all."

"Neb, are you serious that you can't figure out such a simple thing?"

Neb's face contorted in one last concentrated effort to come up with the answer. "I guess they're just jealous."

Enlil smiled widely and looked about the room, as if expecting all the hard bodied members of the club to burst out laughing. He leaned close to Neb said softly, "So you think they sent a spy here, risking an international incident, because they felt a spark of jealousy? Did you ever think that maybe they just might be making their own gardens and could possibly want to get the glory for finishing first? No? Never crossed your mind even once?"

"Uh, yeah. Actually that really makes sense. Hey you're probably right!" Neb's face lit up like a kid seeing a strange animal for the first time.

Enlil glanced down at the mug half-filled with the grey health drink. "And what is this that you are drinking? Yummmm. Can I have some?"

"I really don't think you'd like it. It's a new imported powder mix mixed with milk designed for maximizing muscle-building potential. I paid an extortionate price for it but it's worth it. I've noticed significant gains since I started drinking it."

Enlil took a tiny sip and tasted it carefully. "How long have you been drinking this for?"

"I've been drinking 2 litres of it every day for the last month. Why? Is it good you think?"

"This is clay from the local valley of Gasca just outside of Babylon where the city's sewage runs out. I recognize it because I'm quite familiar with the local area's soil compositions. We search all these areas for chemical elements to use in experiments."

Neb looked with apprehension at the mug.

Enlil smiled and said, "What were you thinking Neb? A mug of clay a day keeps the doctor away?" At that he held his head back and laughed loudly.

By then, some of the fitness members were listening in and a murmuring developed among them coupled with poorly concealed snickers. It was too much for Neb who wanted to maintain his powerful image among the fitness elite. He quickly got up and walked out of the room.

[civman2000]

keep writing, this is good

[unscratchedfoot]

nothing is here

[ChrisiusMaximus]

I read this story from the start but drifted from it and forgot to post my thoughts its good to see you are still writing.I found the original concept of this story very good and original and enjoyed the humour of it especially the mischevious Punga,I'm off now to catch up from where I left off the last ime I looked in to get back up to speed on it.