Feline Wars Episode V - The Boy and The Knight

In a quiet little village near the Austrian border, a young lad was being trained in the fine art of fermenting barley. The instructor was apprehensive; the lad was known to have a formidable temper (he had once killed a whole brood of hundreds of pigeons because one of them rather unwisely thought his head was a good spot to unburden itself), and an immense power of will which made everyone who spoke to him want to obey him. The lad was also famous because he had a strange mark on his arm, something which looked like a set of windmill blades with flared ends. And as the lone tattoo artist of the village denied all rumors that he had been near the mother of the boy, the mark was believed by the locals to be a divine sign, but whether it was put there by the winged immortal at the top of the ladder or the horned immortal from the pit of fire was not known for certain. Some said that it was put there by a religious cross-eyed Indian with his head bent forty-five degrees, but they were few.

The instructor explained all the nuances of the trade, but the boy disagreed with one particular procedure which involved exposing the crop to tiny invisible organisms (the details are unknown; the hidden microphone which recorded the conversation and the tape obtained from it were both destroyed in the events that are to follow). The instructor had never been contradicted before, and as his pride rolled his common sense into a ball and tossed it out the window, he slapped the boy. Big mistake!! Within an hour the boy had raised the workers in mutiny. He was arrested, and spent several years in prison writing the story of his life.

Now it so transpired that the Chief, who had managed to hide from the rampaging Gods, detected this boys’ energy signature on his Etha-Evil-detector. Now this is a marvelous contraption, which can be bought online and online only, on the famous Rope Bazaar located on the second planet of the Zyklon-B solar system. The system is a haven for the followers of Lucy, and the afore mentioned bazaar is on a rope that stretches across the great river Cyano (the name is self-explanatory). To buy something, one must be an accomplished acrobat, have no fear of heights (those unsure have to bungee jump to test their resolve), and have tons of money (literally, because the local monetary unit is a Wej, which weighs ten kilograms). Payment is made using local currency only and bargaining is banned. Any transgressors are promptly tossed into the river below (luckily, there is no need to worry about swimming, that ability will not be needed here).

Now the Chief went and met this boy, and using all his powers of persuasion, he convinced the boy to destroy the Chosen Ones (as the Mobai were known). The boy gleefully agreed. As soon as he was released, he built an army and set out on his quest. But alas, ha had misunderstood the Chief. The only chosen ones he knew were those who had crossed a desert, a sea, a mountain and then a plain to reach their home. He commenced persecuting them, using advanced weapons of war, including giant slingshots that dropped exploding pellets on the enemy, genetically modified sharks which shot darts through their gill openings at the ships of foes, and vaporized essence of Cyano river (this last attained fame under the name of the planet where it came from). The chosen ones were rounded up, tortured, and killed mercilessly. They were forbidden to bathe, and they were forbidden to stink, and punishment for either crime was a bath in the vaporized essence. And this state of affairs continued for many years.

The leaders of the chosen people prayed to their lord for deliverance, and their lord told them to go to Pasht, for they had been mistaken for the Mobai. While on this topic, it would be worthwhile to discuss where the Gods were all this time. Well, they were as usual busy in sport. In this case, they were all hooked onto the latest game to hit the heavenly glamour columns. It involved a score and two players divided into two teams, and required a circular ground, half a dozen wooden sticks, a ball, and two bats. It was played in the air, and required two referees (specially called in from hell). In simple words, it was a three-dimensional version of cricket (the bowling team was allowed to set the inclination and curve of the ground as they wished to).

So the leaders of the chosen people prayed to Pasht, and she came out of hiding to witness all the carnage going on. She had been oblivious to all this, and now realized that the boy was bent on conquering the world, and in the process, the Mobai would be doomed. So she promised to help them, and set out in search of a warrior who would kill the boy. Her travels took her to Spain, and there, along a lonely forest road, she met a small man riding a donkey. He looked trustworthy, and she confided in him. He told her he knew a knight in the village who could do the job. She went to the knight, and he agreed, on the condition that he would get unlimited access to all the occult libraries in the world. The knight then went to the boy, and challenged him to a duel. The boy agreed, seeing that the knight was old, and had only a lance. Thus began the third great duel in the history of the world. Fierce raged the battle, and the land they fought on was smote with holes. Men perished by the mere sight of the feral looks on the two’s faces. The knight proved a tough adversary, and for days the battle raged. Their clothes were ripped, and they still fought. Then, the knight saw the strange mark on the boy’s arm. “Demon”, he screamed, and started yelling and cursing with all his might. His sanity lost, he charged at the boy, and pinned the mark with his lance. The boy fell. The knight had won.

The war had raged long, and there were countless losses on all sides. But Pasht was now victorious. “The time has finally come,” she declared at the post-war press conference (disguised of course, this time as a village girl). The knight had become a celebrity. When asked how he got the stroke of inspiration that made him spear the mark, he replied, “It’s a family tradition. That was a demon, and I killed it. My ancestor had once attacked a whole bunch of them. He lost that battle, but the trend was born. And I knew I would win, for I am the Don the Xth.” And with these words, he got onto his steed Rozinante the XVth and rode off into the sunset.