Today on The Continuing Adventures of Jerry O'Kind...
 
When we last left our hero, the fair maiden Zashiel had been stolen away by the savage Umbagumbwa Tribe. Kidnapped and held hostage against her will, Zashiel must hold out hope that somebody will come to save her.

 
The ropes that bound Zashiel's arms to the pole behind her back were prickly and brittle, and they scratched her fair, delicate skin whenever she struggled against them. All around her were the purple skinned Umbagumbwas, their long orange hair tied into knots by worms. Above them, the blazing jungle sun blazed above them, making a light sparkle of sweat appear on Zashiel's brow as the sun blazed above her.
 
Oh, fiddlesticks, she cursed in her head, blushing slightly at the vulgarity of her own thoughts, what a pickle I've gotten myself into this time!
 
A strong breeze blew through the Umbagumbwa's camp, and Zashiel shrieked when the wind threatened to blow her thin pink dress up. She clamped her knees around the hem, sighing in relief when she managed to save her dignity. TheUmbagumbwas chortled at her antics.
 
"Oofar bawawa hun gin barra toonga!" one of them ugged, stepping bravely forward to inspect his captive. He was as large as an ox, and almost as smelly, and he thumped his chest importantly when Zashiel looked at him.
 
"Hello," she chirped, trying to put on a cheerful smile, "how are you today?"
 
"Parsha nogga looma tooba bill!" the Ungumwagba said, spraying her in the face with spit. Zashiel blinked a couple times to get it out of her eyes and then smiled again.
 
Be friendly, she urged herself. Friendship solves everything!
 
"That's a very nice shade of purple you're wearing today," she said.
 
Little did Zashiel know that, in Umbagumbwa culture, compliments are actually insults. If you truly wished to compliment an Umbagumbwa, you would tell them something like how ugly their face was, or how their mother must have been an unholy hybrid of a dragon and a moose. And so, the Umbagumbwa chief (because he was the chief) punched her in the face.
 
"Ouch!" she cried. "That wasn't very nice!"
 
"Nargle nargle wibbajack!" the Umbagumbwa chief yelled, stamping his feet like a spoiled hcild. He raised his torch (they all had torches, btw), and set the hay under Zashiel's feet on fire (she was standing on hay, btw)
 
"Oh, oh no!" Zashiel screamed as the flames rose higher under her feet. Soon, they were even hotter than the jungle sun that blazed above her. "Oh, won't anybody save me?"
 
"Fear not, fair maiden Zashiel!" shouted a deep, brave, heroic voice. "I shall rescue you!"
 
Zashiel looked up, and saw silhouetted against the blazing jungle sun above them...
 
"Jerry O'Kind!" she cried out in ecstatic happiness as the fires continued to burn her from below.
 
And so it was! Jerry O'Knid, the warrior of goodness and justice, dressed in his white jacket with the hood up! standing on top of the trees with his hands on his fists like a hero he was. So brave and handsome and strong and pure and handsome was he that the Umbagumbwas recoiled in terror.
 
"My hero!" said Zishali as Jerry jumped down from the treetops and sent the the Umbagumbwas running like a hot knife through butter. He pulled out both of his axes and, with one mighty swipe, cut through the pole and the ropes that were tying her up. As he carried her to the edge of camp in his strong, treelike arms, she gave him a hug.
 
"are you all right?" he asked.
 
"Sometimes male seahorses give birth," she answered.
 
Jerry chuckled. "Indeed they do. Indeed they do."
 
"Goron zora deku kokiri!" yelled the Gumbwanagus chief, raising a club over his head. "Mushu gai pan!"
 
"Oh fiddlesticks--" said Zashiel
 
"Language, m'lady," Jerry corrected her, giving her a blinding white (and handsome) grin.
 
"It doesn't look like he wants to let us leave!"
 
Jerry set the fair maiden down on the ground and turned to regard the savage chief. "Don't worry, miss, I can handle this."
 
Zashiel swooned and grabbwed Jerry's arm. "Oh, don't do it, Jerry! It's too dangerous!"
 
"Nonsense!" he said, shoving her away. "I have calmed savages thirty four times more savage than this savage."
 
He str4olled casually over to the purple skinned bad guy. "As we both know, Zashiel, friendship can fix anything!"
 
And then he punched the Umbagumbwa chief in the face and killed him.
 
"Tally ho!" he yelled, throwing Zashiel over his shoulder and charging out into the jungle. He grabbed a vine and swung away on it and they lived happliey ever after and had lots of kids.
 

Jjuryokien

Chatper Twenty One

THE END
 NEXT TIME: The spearman invites Jerry and Zashiel over for tea... AND BY TEA I MEAN HES GONNA KILL THEM. also be here in a few weeks for the debut chapter of The Protractor and the Pacemaker for tons of fantasy mathematical fun yay :D

 

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