Soon to come…

I neglected my English updates for a while. This will change soonish.
I intend to publish the whole story so far in one post, a Who’s Who and some other stuff already available in the German version.
Still, the English story/tweets are daily up to par. If you want to read them as one continuig thread, please use www.printmytweets.com or similar tools.
Follow the Wise!

Week 7 (5.5.-11.6.2009)

He didn’t really fear this human but to touch the totem gave him a feeling of security. The man in front of him noticed the gesture.

„Hey, Swampthingie, what’s the stink? Is that you or this dead skunk on your belt?“ The human roared with laughter. Hans-Dieter stayed calm. Because firstly, his religion forbade him to react if provoked by others. And secondly, because the Aahw was indeed a dead skunk.

These „humans“ had appeared just recently in the area of the Paloopah-Swamps, but were a lot of trouble ever since. They were arrogant, terrorized other species, and some of them were downright criminals. Quite plainly like the specimen in front of him. Who by the way in this instant drew a kind of small hand axe and aimed it at Hans-Dieter. The tavern fell even more silent. The Droohlo froze in mid-movement, the Flump curled up into one oversized ball of wool, and the Menhor raised his seven branches into the air.

So this was one of those thundersticks that allegedly killed reliably and from great distances. Hans-Dieter remained unimpressed. „You, get moving! Hand them over or I’ll blow away the bigger one of your ugly heads!“ The being was waving around his weapon.

Week 6 (30.5.-4.6.2009)

But from Hera, the old bat, he got the brush off already centuries ago. And the other goddesses were mostly his own daughters. And lately they were always like “Oh, Daddy, breeding-in is SO last aeon!”

So he had to get mixed up with mortal women now and then. But nowadays he had to impose himself even on them for the most part and more than once they broke right in the middle of it. Bummer. And even if they came through he always had to deal with a new half-god nine months later.

Since, you know, Ganymed he didn’t really feel like boys too…

At least the Muses and mortal pen pushers still held in high esteem his usual playboy-image. And this riff-raff was well advised to do so too! Unless they fancied to keep the Titans company – in Tartaros!

No really, something had to be done. Something in the world-shattering league!

Zeus brooded so much so that the clouds around Mount Olymp startet to seethe.

- – -

„Did you hide more of those pearls in your fat fuzzy belly?“ The voice coming from the door sounded at the same time mockingly and snidely.

So this was a human. Smaller than a Znork, disgustingly smooth skin, but similarly in built. Only just one head. Although with a black hat. While Hans-Dieter still cogitated if the hat was a body part or vestment Kurt continued to whisper unsolicitedly: „Don’t underesstimate it! They look ssmall and frail but they carry mighty thundersstickss!“

Hans-Dieter reached instinctively for the Aahw dangling from his belt.

Week 5 (23.5.-29.5.2009)

He was aware that on the other hand „The Liquid Soul of Znurk“, holy to every Znork (and Znark too), didn’t count much in the outside world. Insofar the deal was fair. Hans-Dieter knew that the handing out of riches helped his task and sped things up. And he wanted to settle his business as fast and trouble-free as possible. He took the by now replenished bottle and turned to go.

“Not so fast, Znork!”

- – -

Pfzzzt.

The small colorful spaceship flared up shortly and disappeared into oblivion. „327“ Joseph yawned and scratched his belly. The ball made out of candy wrapper that had hit the craft plummeted to the floor – but started to rise just moments later and floated back to the bed on which „Spacecowboy Joe“ was lying sprawled over. He snatched it in mid-air. Joseph took aim and then threw the ball at another of the small holoships that were buzzing about his room.

Pfzzzt.

„328“ He practised this little shooting game he had programmed himself every time he was grounded. And he was grounded on a regular basis.

Pfzzzt.

„329. Computer, end simulation!“ Joseph to turned over onto his tummy. He had to reprogram the game. It became far to easy for him. Although the simulated spaceships dashed around at a breakneck speed and came from impossible angles, he managed to hit them each time. Joseph slid slowly to the floor and moseyed to the exterior window. If he was not allowed to go out, he wanted at least to peek out! „Computer, maximum magnification!“ The asteroids of the debris zone seemed to dash forward to his position.

Oh sure, he could have imagined! Of course! José, el Gaucho del Universo, was outside! Playing hide and seek with Beppo, il Pastore dello Spazio! And where Giuseppe was found Joschi, der Kuhhirt des Kosmos, could not be far! All weapons deactivated of course, the sissies!

Joseph shook his head in disdain.

- – -

Zeus was, like, completely crabby.

Dowright bugged really. He wasn’t even in the mood for neither nectar nor ambrosia. Despite having thundered around big time just yesterday. Balls to the wall thunderbolts against Troy, helter-skelter, to jolly up the natives a little bit! Had been just a brief pleasure, alas.

Zeus was bored out of his godly mind… Well, some classical rolling in the hay, sure, that would have cheered him up a little…

Week 4 (15.5.-22.5.2009)

„Unholy Shpark of Ignition!? Det ist se biggest heap of bull vot I have ever heart of!“

„However, I recommend to swiftly…“

„…hit its lowest middle eye vis a bolt, I know set!“

„Well, actually it’s topmost eye“

„Se lowest!“

„The topmost!“

„Lowest!!“

„Top…“
A fresh burst of flames coming from the Naatzol, reeking of carrion (and a pinch of coriander), charred a black curl of the Huntress.

Week 3 (8.5.2009 – 14.5.2009)

„I vil shlay you! I vil make you tet!“ The Naatzol stood confused. There was a groan from the ground, the monster’s victim was still alive! „May I point out that this would be an excellent opportunity to knock out the Keeper?“ said a humming-buzzing sounding voice. „Oh shut se hell up, vil you?“ the huntress grumbled at her crossbow and reached for one of the consecrated willow-bolts in her bandoleer.