The Inebriate Guild of Pistachio Juggernauts
I'll tell you a story as best as I can but I warn you it's mostly untrue
and what parts of it are, I'm sorry to say, have a meaning that's lost upon you.
The story begins as they often do in a once, an upon, and a time
and the words I must say with heartfelt regret for the most part incessantly rhyme.
It all starts in the west in a desert most vast in a teapot of massive proportion
whose bowels were decrepit and falling apart and afflicted by quite vicious torsion.
And inside this hovel of tea-stained adornment lived a warlock so cunning and foul
that even the demons who hunt in those wastes look down on his dwelling and scowl.
"Now what does this being of darkest intent do?" you could ask or question.
A smattering of mischief, a hint of pure evil, though he's really quite open to suggestion.
But, although, and however it seems on this particular day
he'd hatched a plan, a devilish scheme, he was up to no good you might say.
You see though he hated most everything there was one thing that just got his goat.
Without it he couldn't make cheese anymore and he screamed until hoarse in the throat.
He knew who it was, the pistachios of course. Oh, how they riled his nerves!
He'd pickle them, toast them, fry them, and roast them or maybe make fancy hors devours.
He summoned an army, a frightening host. They arrived in large droves and on wagons.
There were crows, and gargoyles, an overweight vampire, and just maybe one or two dragons,
and harpies, and banshees, a wolf with one tooth, to righten this wrong unrequited.
There was even a discontent half-eaten quiche though I don't believe he was invited.
So he called them all up and he sat them all down and he told them what each was to do
and they cackled, and giggled, and thought pleasant thoughts of the days the pistachios would rue.
And the warlock, and werewolves, and Big Ugly Pete they carried on quite unrestrained
while in the back of the room near a punch bowl half empty the quiche, well, it mostly complained.
Now far, far away over mountains and molehills unaware of their impending doom
the Inebriate Guild of Pistachio Juggernauts had a fight just beginning to bloom.
"I say move this chair! It's useless to me and since I have no legs to speak of
I won't be caught dead sitting down in that thing. I'd rather repose in a teacup!"
"Repose on your nose you blithering ijit! That chair aint takin' no space!
It's these clodhoppin' boots that you left layin' here. You leave 'em all over the place!"
There were three in the guild, all drunkards of course, related in some way or other.
Three brothers at arms, although they had none, and each with their very own mother.
There was Mustachio Pistachio, Fibbonaccio Pistachio, two nuts as robust as their names
and Sloughton their dimwitted brother-in-law who'd lost most of their drinking games.
But families like this and like many others have their own little tits and their tats
though unlike the rest, when venting their spleen, they might fight an army of cats.
Their abode was a wondrous hollowed out toadstool in a forest of celery trees.
A forest that's peaceful and quiet and calm and covered in man-eating peas.
Now at this moment, this time, and this place....well maybe a bit farther south
A rabbit approached, the king of those woods, with a small golden pipe in his mouth.
His name was Kalulu Montrushton Ohio Lydell though he went by King Jimmy for short
and though large and rotund and just a bit heavy he wasn't the violent sort.
That might be why, when he finally arrived, he decided he wasn't for knocking.
He could hear a fierce battle still brewing inside and the language they used was quite shocking.
After awhile, a time, and a moment or two his patience had grown very thin
so he opened their door just the tiniest crack and said, "Umm..would you please let me in?"
The great din inside, it quickly subsided, and just barely ground to a halt
and though they had just been at each others' throats they could not recall who was at fault.
Mustachio stepped forward,"Oh most honored king. Have you perhaps brought us a quest?"
Fibbonaccio adds,"It must be them cats! Oh, I'll go take care of those pests!"
And Sloughton was quiet, as he often is, his sweet dullard's silence complete.
The goat in the corner, with a keen turn of phrase, looked over just once and said, "Bleat."
"No quest, no, no, no! No mission or journey. I've just come around to these parts...
...to ask if you've seen or perhaps even witnessed a thief who's been stealing our carts?"
"A thief?! That's preposterous! Ludicrous! It's even insane! Who'd dare to commit such a crime?"
Mustachio continues,"This villain will pay! Let's be off! We'll waste no more time!"
Mustachio hurried to gather his gear but tripped on an old leather boot
and Fibbonaccio smirked as he called mockingly,"Be careful you clumsy galoot!"
And Sloughton just groaned as he wandered about with a headache that pounded like thunder
while King Jimmy stared with a gape in his mouth and a look of incredulous wonder.
In all of this ruckus, this noise and commotion their back door swung open a tad
onto a scene of unforetold horror, let's just say it was frighteningly bad.
From the green on the grass to the blue in the sky their yard was all filled to the brim
with cart upon cart of various and sundry seemingly stacked on a whim.
There were boulders, and beehives, and pastries, and jewels, and a roc that sat warming her eggs,
a rainbow with ends firmly tied in that mess, and a beetle with seventeen legs,
a full suit of armor, a silver piano, a lion with two double-chins,
and one cart held a cave that was larger inside with a village of wombats therein.
"I would say we have found your mystery thief's hoard of spoils," Mustachio decreed.
Fibbonaccio shouts,"A nuisance, injustice, a work of true evil! Who'd do such a dastardly deed?!"
Mustachio turns,"King Jimmy, my friend, we'll solve this in two thirds of a wink."
"So come back inside, we'll make preparations, and maybe have time for a drink?"
And thus The Inebriate Guild of Pistachio Juggernauts took their leave that day
and no witches or trolls or banglerforks would dare to stand in their way.
For drunken pistachios of violent persuasion have nary a care or worry
as horrors and beasts and foul-smelling creatures would clear from them in a hurry.
They hadn't been long on their journey, you see, when misfortune had found them at last
in the form of a flying red turtle with a four hundred and fifty foot mast,
a mast that had just over twenty-three sails of varying colors and size
on the back of a turtle with diamond tipped claws and the power to soar through the skies.
The captain of this vessel of questionable origin was a brute as mean as they come,
a one eyed chameleon with a hitch in his step and an unhealthy liking for rum.
He went by the name of Peg-Legged Jack though both of his legs were intact
but I'll tell you the stories of his ill repute are a most irrefutable fact.
He arrived in a clearing ahead of the travelers in a flurry of dirt, sand, and dust.
And he glared at Mustachio with his globulous eye and a powerful look of disgust.
"You'll return what you've stolen this instant ye fool or I'm sure you won't live to regret it!"
"Not one single feather should be out of place and I'd better not hear you've upset it!"
"Jack, my good man", Mustachio says,"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean...
...but we're on the trail of a horrible thief and he's stricken you too it would seem."
"It's YOU, you buffoon! You left me a note! And be certain I've read every word!"
"It said,'Thanks for the drinks, the food, and the fun and we've taken your gigantic bird.'"
Fibbonaccio yells,"What's this nonsense about!? Has the thief stole our memories as well!?"
Jack replies bitterly,"I'll cure you of that if you'll be silent and listen a spell."
"Last night as I flew o'er valleys and lakes I came upon this little band...
...of pistachios with carts full of curious items and I knew that my task was at hand."
"I thought maybe I would invite you aboard and help you part ways with your hoard."
"And after I'd had just a small bit of sport then I'd put each of you to the sword."
"My plan was flawless, air-tight, impeccably simple or at least that's what I had been thinking."
"And it was, that's the truth! Call me a liar! That is 'till we all started drinking."
"It was the middle of the night and there we all sat at a table in my private quarters."
"The crew had all finished their work for the day and were sent down below on my orders."
"I needed a way, a method, or plan to relieve you of all of your treasure."
"So I challenged Mustachio to a rum drinking contest which I knew I could win at my leisure."
"It was apparent to me that as alcohol goes you had already drunk more than enough."
"And drinking you down would be entertaining but not challenging, trying, or tough."
"You accepted the challenge, Mustachio my lad, and we placed our respectable bets."
"You wagered your goods for the rum in my hold and we shook hands with no regrets."
"We were well in our cups and the challenge went on and still you showed no signs of flagging."
"While I on the other hand was not so well off and my eye slowly began sagging."
"I knew I had no way of surviving this fight as surprising as it was to me."
"So I demanded a proxy, a stand-in, a champion and I chose my sweet Jubilee."
"Who's Jubilee!", Fibonaccio interjects,"I've had enough of this dim allegory!"
"It's the name of my ship you barnacled sod! Now let me get on with my story!"
"So Mustachio was to take a partner, all that's left was for him to choose."
"And with Jubilee's gullet on my side of the table I knew there was no way to lose."
"But of all the nonsensical things you could do you refused to give up your place!"
"And barrels and barrels of my precious rum were consumed at a frightening pace."
"Poor Jubilee just couldn't keep up even with her great stomach so deep."
"And with so many gallons of rum in her gut she soon began to fall asleep."
"I'd had enough of that farce and so I decided it was time that I do you all in."
"And I called down Charlina, my companion the roc, and screamed,'Let the battle begin!'"
"My crew all awoke and came onto the deck. We had you all fairly surrounded."
"But I must admit the rebellious smirks on your faces did have me confounded."
"I rushed into battle with my terrible blade not caring who's maimed or dismembered."
"Then came a crash and blackness soon after and that was the last I remembered."
"I awoke late this morning battered and bruised and that is when I found your note."
"Now I've come for revenge and you'll pay the price for the deed that you thoughtlessly wrote."
And Jack drew his sword for better or worse, for honor or some silly notion.
And charged with a yell and a scream and a shout, it really was quite a commotion.
For a fight he was spoiling, a war there would be, a clashing of fists and of swords!
And a fight 'twould have been, a spectacular brawl, if not for the warlock's dark hordes.
Over hilltops they poured, a wave of foul creatures, like ants on the scent of rich cake.
And Jack's sickening rage went out in a whiff when he saw that his life was at stake.
Mustachio smirked,"Well Jack m'boy. What say you to a small bit of fun?"
"Aye, not what I'd call it but I'd have you alive for this thing between us ain't done."
They were outnumbered one thousand to one the pistachios, Jack, and his crew
but bravely they stood with the sun at their backs against such a formidable slew.
Jack met the charge with his cutlass ablaze as it shone with the last rays of light
and not far behind the juggernauts came and they battled well into the night.
They were quite a ways in when something occurred that altered the course of events.
Mustachio turned to his brother and said,"It's so dark this just doesn't make sense."
Fibbonaccio yelled,"'Ey now! What's this!? Can anyone see who they're fighting?"
"What kind of fools are ye trying to be if you can't think to bring any lighting!"
The battle grew quiet as they all looked around and they saw their unfortunate error
and the hosts of the warlock all sputtered about in sudden unreasonable terror.
They soon fled the scene, or so one would presume, but not without shouting a warning.
The pistachios heard calling out from the dark,"Rest assured we'll be back in the morning!"
With the battle postponed, the warring subdued, and the fighting then mostly assuaged
Jack turned to the nuts, his anger rekindled, and his spirit thus freshly enraged
"Now if I could just kill the lot o' you now and without any further distractions."
"I'd have justice be done, my companion returned, and then you'll have paid for your actions."
The pistachios gathered and huddled as one, it might even be said they conferred.
Mustachio grumbled, "It's obvious gents that this lizard just won't be deterred."
So Mustachio turned and looked Jack in the eye and he said in his gentleman's style,
"We'll get you your answers you cold blooded thug if you'll just hold your blade for awhile."
"You seem to believe us some sad band of thieves though I say this is wholly untrue."
"But Jack ask yourself, should you happen to slay us what action then might you pursue?"
"Without us it's likely that you'll never see your faithful companion again.
And with us so vanquished then all of your furious searching will have been in vain."
"Now lower your blade you lack-witted pest and I swear I will take you right to it."
Fibbonaccio sneers, "If I were you cap'n I'd likely just shut up and do it."
Jack was a creature of hardened resolve but he'd never received such a lashing.
It tightened his lips and it boiled his blood but mostly he found it abashing.
Jack soon relented and put up his sword and agreed to Mustachio's truce
while in the back of his head suspicions arose like the chasing of some wild goose.
"Well show me the way you green-gutted sap for I'd rather be done with this quick."
"And I warn you but once of the price you will pay if you think to try some sort of trick."
Though against their first wish the nuts led him along 'til they came to their humble abode.
Yet the sight that awaited was quite a surprise when into that clearing they strode.
The pistachios' home lay in pieces, a wreck, it was safe to say it was destroyed.
Mustachio sighed, Fibbonaccio raged, and Sloughton looked slightly annoyed.
All broken, and battered, and scattered about were the pieces that once were their lair.
And it seemed that the carts which were piled with goods were quite simply no longer there.
The two older brothers conferred with each other while Sloughton sank into his sadness.
"Mustachio, we need to find the sick scum that committed this horrible badness!"
Then from amidst all the rubble and rocks came a voice that was quiet and small.
A voice brought to life by a being who's appearance did not fit his demeanor at all.
It came from a creature that hove into view with a struggling waddlesome gait,
a vampire panting and pink in the cheeks with a gut of incredible weight.
"Please do not harm me!" the vampire yelped with a motion that set him ajiggle.
Fibbonaccio growled, "He was part of that mob! Now let's see just how much he can wriggle."
And with that Fibbonaccio grabbed the fat foe by his great and gelatinous throat.
"Please, I can help you. I'll tell you who sent us," the vampire gurgled and croaked.
He wriggled and writhed in the juggernaut's grasp and he even attempted to squirm.
"Well, out with it then! I haven't all day you disgustingly corpulent worm!"
The vampire squealed, as his kind often do, in a burbling panicky haste,
"The one that is seeking to shorten your lives is called Phil, The Warlock of the Wastes!"
Jack and the nuts all stood frozen in silence as the vampire slid to the ground
while blue in the face and gasping for air with a curious flatulent sound.
"A warlock you say? Well, we aint fought them yet," Fibbonaccio stated with glee,
So let's find this bloke who seems to have thought that he's got the better of me."
(STILL WORKING ON IT BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT SO FAR.!)