Young Writers Society

This is all your going to get for quite awhile. So enjoy

yet again () means footnote.

Some stories have a main character that is brave, courageous, and usually a bit headstrong; we have Dennis. Those stories then have the main character go on a long and usually perilous journey to throw a trinket into a volcano or something like that; Dennis attempts to run away. Once the character has overcome the impossible odds to complete this semi meaningless task he goes home with some chick and lives happily ever after; Dennis well…we’ll get to that later.

This story is just plain abnormal.

This story is about a screwed up world along with a character that has no real purpose. This is quite obvious though or else it would just be boring, like everything else. The world is the magical one of Zinge and the character is Dennis Lardpoast, Slayer of Sludge, Destroyer of Dirt, and janitor of Zinge’s most prestigious, a.k.a only, magical arts school, Darnshelles.

Dennis came to Darnshelles to do what all of his family had failed to do before him, become rich. He came from a farm home in the country where his mother had tried to make the self watering bean and his father died while trying to become the first person to get struck by lightning over fifty times and still live (He only made it to the first when he called the gods a “blithering bunch of nematodes” and they struck him down. They also left a note to all other people who would attempt to mock them again saying “DON’T MESS WITH US!!! Love, the gods”). Dennis knew, however that he could make it as a wizard and ventured off to Darnshelles to seek his fortune. (It’s not all that hard to get to Darnshelles actually, all you have to do is say “Darnshelles” and you’re magically transported there. This can cause quite a lot of problems though because a person can be sitting in the local pub and say, “gee, I wonder what Darnshelles lo– ” and instantly disappear leaving behind a half empty pint of beer and a very confused bartender.)

When he reached Darnshelles and was told by the dean that he must do a simple water spell, he accidentally lit the dean on fire instead. Ashamed and downtrodden, Dennis did what any desperate man would do in that situation: he begged. He begged for days on end and he would never leave the dean’s side until finally one day the dean, being a cruel man, offered Dennis a job as a janitor at the school instead.

Dennis took the job quickly, but unfortunately for him, it was not a good choice. For not only is Darnshelles the best place to learn magic on all of Zinge, it is also the easiest and worst place to die. In fact, the janitor before Dennis died a horrible death when he was suddenly turned into a chicken and then fed to the dean for dinner. Just shows that no one, not even the dean, cares about the janitor.

Dennis had been working for Darnshelles for over five years now and every single day he hoped that the last day was just a nightmare. He had been able to pick up some magic from sneaking into afternoon classes, but most of the time they just learned about “How Not to Blow Yourself Up” and “Anti-Physics”, so all he knows is how to summon water and how to turn someone bald. Both are pretty useless. Also he is currently working on a spell to turn people into squirrels but the cockroaches he practices on always end up looking like an inflated weasel instead.

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Dennis walked down the halls of Darnshelles, twirling his broom nonchalantly and whistling one of the worst tunes known to mankind. He was a tall, lanky man of about 20 years, but had the look of a beaten teenager. He had dirt all over his black cloak and his robe was torn in some places, giving him the look of someone who went out to grab the morning paper and on the way there fell, face first, in a large puddle of mud.

None of the passing students realized that Dennis existed. He was always in the background but no one ever noticed or cared. He was always there though, cleaning a floor, waxing a floor, spitting on a floor, but no one would ever notice him. Except for one man who knew Dennis existed and knew it well.

“Dennis!” Dean Graff yelled from down the hall.

Dean Graff was a small and fat man in his mid sixties. He was a jolly old man unless you worked for him; in that case he would probably use you as a spittoon or a stool. His appearance was made all the worse by the multitude of chins that would jiggle when he moved.

“Dennis!” Dean Graff yelled again, now visible to the beleaguered janitor.

“Darn it,” Dennis muttered under his breath. “I shouldn’t have made eye contact. Now he knows I see him.”

Dennis shot up into a salute with his chest out, his back straight, and his feet close together. All he could hope that no one saw him doing this creatively stupid pose in the middle of a busy hallway.

“Dennis,” Dean Graff said again reaching Dennis and pointing his finger at Dennis’ nose. “I need you to clean up a particularly nasty mess in the third floor bathroom.”

“May I know what it is, sir?” Dennis questioned wondering if the Dean was being vague on purpose.

“No.” Graff answered quickly.

“May I know why I may not know what the mess is?” Dennis questioned again hoping that he confused the Dean into telling him what the mess was.

“No, because if I did you might quit and if you quit who am I going to have clean up the mess?” Graff said walking away quite satisfied that he had just made Dennis’ day about a hundred times worse.

“I hate this job.” Dennis muttered under his breath and skulked towards the steps leading to the third floor.

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Dennis had reached the third floor bathroom and sighed when he saw what the mess was. Apparently one of the witches who was currently working at the school as a nurse forgot that she would melt when touching water. So decided she needed to wash her hands. Dennis sighed when he saw the sight and quickly summoned some water using his mop as a staff. He than worked quickly on the witches body and once he was all done he was confronted by his least favorite student, and the dean’s right hand man, Alcan Greench who lifted up his staff as a pillar of mud fell on Dennis’ head.

“How do you like that mud?” Alcan asked sneering as Dennis looked up, his head covered with mud. “That will give you food to eat for months on your paycheck.”

“I should’ve known a student such as you would ruin my day.” Dennis said gritting his teeth and clutching his broom tightly wishing that the gods would strike Alcan down right on the spot.

Alcan Greench was a tall and handsome student who was smart and all around better than him and everyone else in the school, in a mean and snobby way. However that wasn’t the reason Dennis hated him; he hated him because Alcan was the student who attempted becoming a wizard after Dennis had lit the dean on fire. To make a long story short, when the dean asked Alcan to do a water spell (not wanting to be lit on fire again) Alcan caused a whole lake to appear right in the middle of the hall. Dean Graff was amazed at the spectacle and immediately made Alcan a student of the school. After he was made a wizard at the school he rubbed it in Dennis’ face and Dennis swore he would get revenge someday.

“I wish you would be thrown into a pit with a starving bear.” Dennis swore at Alcan looking back down at the ground and pulled out his mop to start cleaning again.

“Temper, temper, we wouldn’t like our favorite janitor to be sacked now would we?”

Dennis clenched his fist harder on the mop and could hear the wood start to splinter from the pressure. “Alcan, if you want to live I suggest you leave.”

“Ohhhhh, you are mad now aren’t you?” Alcan said a grin creeping across his greasy and pimple marked face. “Well you can’t really do anything to me can you? Janitors aren’t allowed to do magic. But even if they could you would probably light yourself on fire anyway!”

Dennis clenched the broom even harder until it actually snapped in half. Alcan looked down at the mop which was now in shards.

“Quite amazing that you could even do that to a broom,” Alcan said looking up at Dennis’ face which was now red with anger. “But you can’t hurt a student can you?”

Alcan of course was right. Dennis would surely be sacked if he walloped that snot nosed student in the face but he did it anyway.

“AGHHHHAHHA!” Alcan wailed moving backwards falling over the mop bucket that Dennis was using. “You Jerhk!”

“I’m the jerk!?” Dennis asked an insane look in his eyes. He grabbed a piece of the shattered wood and pointed it at Alcan using it as a wand. “You’re the one who has been throwing mud at me since the first day we met!”

“Whaht are youh going tooh doo?” Alcan asked backing towards the wall scarred that Dennis was about to do something like stab him.

“DON’T WORRY IM NOT GOING TO HURT YOU!” Dennis yelled.

“Don’t doo anythig youh migh’ regret.” Alcan was starring at the piece of wood that was now being lifted with a horrified look on his face. “Whaht are youh doin-“

Alcan wasn’t able to do anything before it happened. Dennis waved the piece of wood and a bolt of magic struck Alcan in the stomach.

Dennis laughed at the newly formed squirrel in the hall. It looked a bit demented though with one eye much larger than the other, a slim film of drool coming out of its mouth, and a body that was way to small for its head.

“Not exactly what I was going for but it’ll do.” Dennis laughed, turning away from the squirrel leaving it to wonder why it was in the middle of a school.

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Meanwhile, on the other side of Latch in a bar of some kind a lone thief stands in a corner drinking a pint of beer and starring at the customers that were inside of it. He was a small man who wore a black hood and a long red cloak that completely engulfed him. He had noticed a lot of the customers were dressed poorly and by the looks of it worked in mines. There was, however, a dawrf (No I did not spell DWARF wrong, I merely invented a sub race called DAWRVES. Dawrves are creatures who look like Dwarves, smell like them, and even bathe like them (as in not at all), however Dawrves are a lot greedier for money, usually smarter, and a lot more drunk. How did Dawrves come to be? Dawrves came to be after a Dwarf named Flargen McMoorth ate over ten pounds of salt just for one Grat (a dollar essentially). After he ate all of the salt he gained the Grat and was named the first Dawrf… then he instantly died from dehydration.) standing at the other side of the room and wearing a necklace of pure gold. The man smirked under his dark hood and strolled in front of the dawrf and tried yanking the necklace off the dawrf’s neck. All the dawrf did was gag and then slap the necklace out of the man’s hand instantly who grabbed at it again.

“What do you think your–ACK–doing!?” the dawrf yelled at the man who was still trying to get the necklace off the dawrf’s thick neck.

“Stealing your necklace, are you really that stupid?” the man answered yanking at the necklace making the dawrf gag horribly.

“W–ACK–hy?” asked the dawrf quizzically gagging again as the would be thief pulled harder on the chain.

“Its kind of obvious, I’m a thief, moron!” the thief answered again acting as if the dawrf was the stupid one.

“N–ACK–ot very good at your job, are you?”

“What are you talking about? I’m stealing your necklace and it’s almost working!” the thief answered again yanking at the chain just as unsuccessfully as before.

“Can you–ACK–stop? My neck is starting to hurt.”

“Not until I get the necklace!”

“Fine, here you go! Just stop already!” The dawrf said pulling the necklace off and shoving it into the thief’s grimy hands.

“MWUAHAHA!” the thief yelled in exuberance. “I JUST ROBBED YOU!” and the thief ran out of the bar happily.

Meanwhile the dawrf looked at the bartender, who was cleaning a particularly dirty glass, and asked “who was that man?”

“He’s a usual around here, goes by the name of Walst. He’s probably one of the worst thieves you’ll ever find. Always calls himself the best though because he always gets what he wants,” The bartender answered, not looking up from the glass.

“Why’s that?”

“Same reason you gave up your necklace,” The bartender said looking up from the glass. “He’s bloody annoying.”

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Dennis was walking back to the dean’s office only to find that the dean was standing right outside of his door. When the dean saw Dennis the grin on his face disappeared and a frown appeared in its place.

“Dennis, have you seen Alcan around? I need to ask him something.” Dean Graff asked waltzing up to Dennis, chins wobbling.

Dennis froze in fear. If the dean found out what Dennis had done he would surely sack him, or worse. “Uhh… I haven’t seen him all day, sir.”

“Well that’s unfortunate because I was going to ask him to… is that a squirrel?” Graff asked pointing down the hallway at a squirrel Dennis recognized as the one he had just made.

“What squirrel? I don’t see any squirrel, you must be hallucinating.” Dennis said quickly pulling the dean’s attention away from the demented squirrel now moving closer to them.

“No, I definitely see a squirrel.” Graff said pulling away from Dennis’ grip. “It looks kind of demented too.”

“Yeah it is.” Dennis agreed, thinking up a plan that would pull the dean away from the squirrel. The only plan Dennis could come up with though was knocking the dean out with his broom and dragging him off to his office.

“Dennis!” Dean Graff yelled, bringing Dennis out of his thinking.

“Yes sir?”

“I want you to kill that squirrel.”

“What?” Dennis asked acting as if he had not heard the dean.

“You heard me!”

Dennis stood still for a couple of seconds. He didn’t want to kill Alcan he just wanted to teach him a lesson.

“What are you waiting for?” Dean Graff asked impatiently. “Kill it!”

Dennis had no choice he had to do it. He lifted his broom and brought it down, right on the Deans head. What choice did he have? It was either kill Alcan or knock the dean out. The only problem was that the dean hadn’t been knocked out.

“I’m just going to imagine that didn’t happen.” The Dean said rubbing the top of his head. “And I’m still waiting for you to kill that squirrel though.”

Dennis faced the squirrel again and gulped. He knew the spell would wear off soon; all he needed to do is keep the dean busy. Unable to come up with anything else Dennis quickly brought the broom back down on the dean’s head attempting to knock the dean out again, and again failing.

“Can you stop that? It hurts quite a lot.”

“Sorry sir.” Dennis said lifting his broom back into the air.

“You better b-” The broom made an ear shattering crack against the dean’s head, harder then ever. The dean made some sick gurgling sounds, said “ouch”, and crumpled to the ground.

Dennis dragged the dean’s limp body into his office and threw Alcan the squirrel in with him. He then walked down the hall and into the library. Some good reading would take his mind off this horrible day.

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Meanwhile, Walst was leaning against a large pillar in the middle of Rockenbrawl square in the middle of Telsa, a large city in the middle of Latch. The town was full of rich people and Walst was just waiting for the right one.

Finally he found one who was absentmindedly walking into a dark alley and best of all he had a gold and silver plated pocket watch in, where else, his back pocket.

Walst smiled under his cloak as he snuck through the crowd, seen by everyone. The man with the watch had not looked back though as he wandered into the alley and did not see Walst following him.

Walst snuck loudly until he was only a couple of inches away from the man’s watch. He reached out, slowly, and grabbed the watch just in time for the man to see what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” The man asked, and then he saw that Walst was pointing at his watch. “Do you need the time?” asked the man, removing his watch from his pocket and looking at the time. “It’s currently five past one.”

“Put the watch back.” Walst said menacingly.

“What?” the man asked shocked at what Walst had just said.

“I said, put the watch back.” Walst said again, now removing a club that was tied to his belt.

“Oh…” The man said placing his watch back in his pocket.

“Now turn around.” Walst said hitting his palm with the club.

“Why shou-”

“DO IT!” Walst yelled.

“Okay, okay.” The man said turning around scared by the strange man with a club.

Walst leaned his hand forward and grabbed the thing out of the mans pocket and ran away yelling “I’m the greatest thief in the world” leaving the man to wonder why “the greatest thief in the world” had grabbed his handkerchief instead of his six hundred dollar watch.

Walst on the other hand, in an attempt to get away, yelled “Darnshelles” and was magically teleported to the horrible school.

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The library in Darnshelles has the largest collection of books know to man kind but only has one very small shelf in it. The only way this is possible is that the shelf itself defies the laws of physics, like everything else in the school. The shelf works by using the users mind and giving him the book it thinks the user wants but usually it’s wrong.

“How to Say Hello to an Angry Ogre Who Is About to Bash Your Head In.” Dennis read aloud opening the book and looking at the single sentence inside. “Don’t. Well that’s a stupid book.” Dennis said putting the book back in and pulling out another book titled “So You Want to Summon a Chicken?” Dennis didn’t even open the book. In this case the cover did judge the book. He put that one back in and pulled out one last book.

“The Variatorum, the book that knows all… whatever, this as good as its going to get.” Dennis said walking out of the empty library and into the hall only to find himself face to face with a man. . He was a small man who wore a black hood and a long red cloak that completely engulfed him. Dennis moved out of the mans way but the man just stood there, staring at Dennis.

“Uhhh… do you want something?”

The man didn’t answer. He just stood there.

“Okay then… by-” The man moved so quickly Dennis didn’t see it coming. The man had grabbed a club from his belt and hit Dennis over the head, knocking him out instantly. All Dennis could remember was that the man had yelled “MWUAHAHAHA” just before he hit the ground.