The Fweeble Hatching
Parts I and II of a
story about two friends.
Part I.
In a small
house that looked much like any other house, there lived a serious
girl named Ippinina Wawahweena. On her 5th birthday, Ippinina's
chubby huggable parents gave her a mysterious package. Ippinina
slowly pulled off the shiny wrapping paper. She stared in wonder
at the treasure inside. It was big. It was red. It bore the proud
letters "Hop 42" pressed into it's round rubber surface.
Ippinina thought it was the weirdest toy she had ever seen.
"You hop on it!"
exclaimed her plump father.
"You can jump with
it" explained her pear shaped mother. Her mother and father
beamed at one another as if they knew something wonderful that Ippinina
did not.
Ippinina smiled because
she didn't want to upset her parents. As soon as they left the room,
she began to frown. She had no idea what this odd thing was and
she felt a bit like crying. What should she do?
Ippinina was not like
other children. Margaret, her pony tailed friend from down the street
would have kicked the Hop 42, carried it around, sat upon it and
done other playful things. Ippinina was far too serious for such
frivolous behavior.
Instead she began reading
the instructions printed in very small print right below the ball's
odd name. Being serious all her life had made Ippinina quite linguistically
proficient for her age. The instructions read:
- Sit on your Hop
- Hold the Handle in
your hand
- Bounce up and down.
- If you have any troubles
call our toll free help line at 1-800-ANSWERS
Ippinina followed the
directions to the letter, but she could not get the toy to work.
It was all very silly, but Ippinina was not the sort of person to
give up easily. Her parents were out shopping at the ice cream stand
for the afternoon, so she scrambled up to the phone and called 1-800-ANSWERS
all by herself.
"Hello, You've reached
the Answers section," rasped a dry old voice on the other end
of line. "What do you want, Ippinina?"
"Um...I want to
know how to...," Ippinina stumbled and blurted out "How
did you just know my name?"
The dry voice sighed,
"This wouldn't be much of an Answer's desk if we didn't know
something as simple as your name, eh? So now what was your question?"
"Well, I just got
an odd toy called a 'Hop 42.' I followed the directions, but it
doesn't seem to do anything. What should I do?" asked Ippinina.
"Did you say a Hop
42?" said the voice. "Not that it matters, but
our new model is the Hop 45. Much better. Fewer chances of explosion."
The voice paused and Ippinina heard the sound of pages in a book
being flipped.
"Ah, here you go,
" grumbled the voice, "I found the old instructions. We
changed the product line because of all the unfortunate hops into
the Otherland. Sometimes I just wish we would stop making odd toys
and focus on singing lollipops or something normal. Okay, are you
listening? I'm only going to read this to you once."
Ippinina assured the
voice that she was listening though she was, at this point, quite
sure that the person on the other end was absolutely bonkers.
The new instructions
were a bit more complicated:
- Sit on your Hop 42.
Be sure to keep it warm
- After 3 days, turn
your Hop one half turn to the left.
- Make oochy-moochy
cooing noises and tell your Hop how much you love it.
- Sit on your Hop for
2 more days.
- When your Hop 42 hatches,
be sure to tell everyone that it wasn't your fault.
"What does all this
mean!" cried Ippinina when the voice was done reading.
"Hmph. You young'ens.
Always expecting Answers to make sense," groused the voice,
"Just do what it says and it will work. Good day." And
with that, the voice on the other end hung up. Ippinina tried to
call back but every time she got a busy signal. The voice that gave
Answers must be quite popular.
Part II
Ippinina sat
on the Hop 42. Her parents came back from the shop, their mouths
stained with chocolate and raspberry.
"Do you like your
Hop?" asked her father, licking his tasty mustache.
"Why aren't you
bouncing on it? " inquired her mother, as she nibbled a small
chunk of fudge off Father's sweet upper lip.
"This is what the
instructions say I'm supposed to do," said Ippinina solemnly,
but her parents weren't really listening. Her mother was whispering
in her father's ear and Ippinina caught the words "strawberry
vanilla cream swirl." Her parents giggled to one another. As
they waddled out of the room, her mother absent mindedly commented
"Have fun dear!"
Ippinina sat on the Hop
42 for 3 days. At night she piled blankets on top of it to keep
it warm and in the morning she ate her bowl of organic rice while
perched on top of the odd toy. Every evening she would look at the
Hop and wonder what it was. The color seemed a bit redder than she
remembered and it didn't squish as much as it once had.
On the fourth day, she
turned the hop one half turn to the left. At this point she wasn't
quite sure what do do next. Ippinina had never made a cooing sound
in her entire life, never mind one that was oochy or moochy.
Relying on sheer instinct,
Ippinina began cooing as best she could. The Hop began to jiggle!
Ippinina immediately began to tell it how much she loved it. Argh,
this was even more difficult than cooing. She gritted her teeth
and gasped out a short 'luv ya' The Hop made a noise that sounded
an awful lot like 'Fweeep!" Encouraged, Ippinina told it again
that she loved it. The more she said "I love you," the
easier it became. Soon she was enthusiastically yelling "I
love you" over and over again, while the Hop jiggled up and
and down, fweeping happily in the cutest manner one could possibly
imagine.
Exhausted, Ippinina gave
the Ball a big hug and was pleased to note that it was glowing with
a rich warm heat that felt just right.
The next two days passed
most quickly. The Hop would glow occasionally and sometimes if Ippinina
listened most carefully she was sure she heard a soft sleepy 'fweep.'
On the 6th day, Ippinina
woke with a strange tingling running from her toes, up her back,
all the way to the tip of her nose. She was staring dreamily at
the Hop when suddenly it began to vibrate. A low hum rose and Hop
42 began pulsing a bright pink. There was a sudden PoP! and a flash
of light that made Ippinina blink. When she opened her eyes, there
was the Hop 42 was lying broken into a little bits, like an eggshell.
Smack dab in the center of the floor was small creature.
The thing stretched as
if it as just woken up. It looked at Ippinina with half lidded eyes.
With a lazy smile, it casually drawled "'Ello there, Ip. My
name is Fweeble. And as you have probably guess, I am not
a chicken."
For some reason she couldn't
quite place, Ippinina felt indescribably happy.
The End.
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