In ancient times there was an era called the Bronze Age. It was so named because at the time humanity was the third best species on the planet Planet Earth. Thus, they were in third place (or bronze) and since they managed to extinct the two better species (along with plenty of others), humanity got to name the era and they went with a name that related the time period to their situation. And so, it was the Bronze Age!

In the Bronze Age, there was a kingdom called Gobagoba. This kingdom was ruled by the just King Oldmo (so called because he was just king, and nothing else). King Oldmo had a beautiful young daughter named Princess Flobb. She was considered by many to have the worst name possible.

The kingdom of Gobagaba was located in a mountain valley high above another kingdom, this one called Martacka! It was the worst and evillest kingdom in the world at that time. Seriously, you’d urinate pure fear and unhappiness if someone told you you had to go there. The innocent people of Gabobaga were hated by the ruthless wretches that dwelled in Martacka!

But Oldmo, being a good king and wanting to spread peace throughout the world one day appeared before his people and requested that they arrange a convoy of volunteers who were to go to Martacka! The people of Gagobago were as peace-loving as their king and so many, nay all, volunteered happily to bring tidings of goodwill and love to their brothers below.

All the people in Gobobobo had a part to play. The carpenters built fine carriages and wagons to bring the convoy to their destination. The blacksmiths readied the strongest and most beautiful horses in the kingdom to pull the wagons and carriages. The tailors sewed up the finest of clothing to be given as gifts. The doctors donated large portions of their medicines to help any who may be in need in the kingdom below. The farmers gave up the best of their harvest for their neighbors down the mountains. The bakers baked two-hundred of the finest cakes to add to the convoy. The children willingly gave their toys so that the children in the town they’d never met might have something to play with. And Princess Flobb herself headed up the diplomatic party that would request the two kingdoms work together for a better tomorrow.

And thus the convoy was ready and they left Gogobaga on the road to Martacka! This road was long and steep, but by moving slowly and with caution the convoy made it to the walls of Martaka! Forewarned by the guard, the Prince of the kingdom, Jack Hacksaw, was already watching from atop the wall.

Flobb introduced herself, “Dear people of Martacka! I am Princess Flobb! I come from the kingdom in yonder mountains, Gobabago to propose peace and unity between our peoples so that our future may be as bright as possible.”

Stirred by the beauty of Princess Flobb and by the possibility of a wonderful future for his kingdom, Jack Hacksaw decided to go easy on the convoy. And so he unleashed the soldiers of Martacka!

The convoy’s wagons and carriages were broken and set on fire. The horses were cooked alive and partially eaten, the remains being thrown into ditches for no good reason. The soldiers took the fine clothing and vomited upon all of it, then left it on the road. The medicine was used improperly by the soldiers, who got high off of it. The harvest was laid out in a field in such a way that they spelled out “YOU GUYS BLOW!” and then set on fire so that the above kingdom would see it. The two-hundred cakes were taken and eaten (Jack Hacksaw justified this by saying that by this point, the convoy wouldn’t want them to have the cakes anymore, so taking them was the evil thing to do). And one particularly rough and tough soldier marched all the way up to the peaceful kingdom and dropkicked each and every child in the face then broke any toys that they still had. Finally, Princess Flobb was taken prisoner. Now, I’m guessing, you see why people didn’t like going to Martacka!

The other people in the convoy returned to Gabobaga with broken hearts. And also a letter from Jack Hacksaw. He told the king:

My Good Fellow,

I Have Kidnapped Thy Daughter.
Assuming You Do Not Want Her Dead
Kindly Bring Me One Million Gold Pieces.
–Yours with Respect,
Jack Hacksaw

King Oldmo was outraged! The audacity of Martacka! To attack a peaceful convoy? Well, Oldmo was a peaceful king, it was true, but he had led wars in the past when necessary. And so, he had his military ride forth, down the steep, long mountain road. The horsemen. The pikemen. The archers. The charioteers. The SWAT team. All of the military forces of Gogagabo rode down the hill. But before they could reach the wall of their enemy kingdom, they were stopped by two men.

“Well, well, now,” asked the first of the men. “What’s this ’ere, then? What do you make of it, Joey, mate?”

“I say,” said Joey. “Looks to me like a pack a schoolgirls that found themselves lost on the way to their ’omes. You fink we should ’elp ’em, Deke?”

Deke rubbed his scruffy chin in mock-thought. “Well, I don’t know, Joey, mate. I do ’ave one idea. Suppose they gave over all their wallets to us. That would lighten their load and make their trip ’ome a spot easier, wouldn’t it?”

“’At sounds right logical to me, Deke.” Joey drew a knife. “Let’s see what you’ve got. ’and it over ’ere.”

The army was stunned. Two petty thugs trying to hold up an entire armed military force? It was laughable. The army moved as one to attack the crooks, but they should have known better. These were not just any small-time thieves, but small-time thieves from Martacka! Being the horrible place it was, the thieves there were far tougher, even the small-time ones, than thieves anywhere else in the world.

In a moment Joey and Deke had shivved the entirety of the first wave of attackers and Deke yelled out, “How about that? Anyone else lookin’ to be a battallion of bleedin’ ’eroes today? No? Okay then! You might want to get about to ’andin over your wallets.”

And so the soldiers did as they were told. The horsemen. The pikemen. The archers. The charioteers. The SWAT team. All of them emptied their pockets into Joey’s hands and then the thieves began walking away. Just then a lone soldier rode up the hill from the town below. Seeing this the thieves started. “Oh no!” cried Joey “It’s one of Jack ’acksaw’s policemen! ’E must know we ’aven’t paid our taxes! We’re doomed for sure!” And the duo began running and the policeman chased after. The armed forces of Gobobaga watched this. Seeing the two men who had just mugged them running with terror from a lone member of the army they were to oppose did not instill confidence. They turned around and went home.

This outraged King Oldmo even moreso! His army made fools of! His daughter still imprisoned! Deciding to resort to drastic measures Oldmo called out his best assassin, Killvan the Sword-Master. Killvan had vanquished no less than a thousand men in battle and was capable of stealth that even the quietest jungle cat would envy. Oldmo sent Killvan off to slay Jack Hacksaw.

An hour later when Oldmo got Killvan’s face, stomache and left knee-cap in the mail, he also got a letter:

My Good Fellow,
Your Actions Were Rash Today.
For Your Princess’s Life I Order You:
Bring The Gold To Me In Person, Alone.

Before Midnight.
Or I Shall Remove Her Lungs.
–Yours with Respect,
Jack Hacksaw

And so the king, seeing he had no other choice, gathered one million gold nuggets (for this was the popular currency of the time) and began to bring them down the long steep road all by himself. He was very aware of how quickly midnight was approaching and weighed down by all the gold, he was slow.

As time dragged on the king could not progress. He tried and tried, but soon realized that the burden of carrying all the gold was too much for going down this steep road. Just then he remembered something his junior high science teacher had told him:

“Things that are round, roll!”

And so King Oldmo used his sword to cut all the gold nuggets into round shapes and rolled them all down the road. He made his meeting with Jack Hacksaw with minutes to spare and rescued Princess Flobb. They returned happily to their home kingdom never to again attempt relations with Martacka! In that wicked kingdom the Prince’s new rounded gold pieces caught on and soon everyone used the round “coins” to purchase their goods. With the ransom money the evil kingdom purchased guns.

Patrick D Ryall, the D is for Happenstance
Originally posted on Contains2 Tuesday 26 April 2005

Long, long ago in the era now called the Bronze Age (at the time is was referred to as the Bronze Era) there was a man named Ernesto the Explorer. Having been named such, it was no surprise that when Ernesto grew into manhood (via the route of puberty), he decided that he would become an explorer. He was in fact, the very first explorer in the history of the world.

Eager to get a start on his exploring, Ernesto the Explorer packed up his belongings one day and left his hometown and headed into the Vast Unexplored Outer Lands. On his mission, Ernesto the Explorer was joined by his good friend Tommy, his arch enemy Davey and, of course, Felix Ortiz.

The quartet walked for three days until they reached the city limits. Crossing that line they left the city and what was, up until that day The Known Universe. After this the group was forced to walk even slower, as they didn’t know where they were going. But they kept going. Oh, how they kept going. Tommy took up the role of map maker and carefully charted the territory. When he was not cooking meals for the group, Davey would try his best to sabotage these maps, because he was a jerk.

It was two weeks before they found anything interesting. They had arisen early that day and enjoyed a large breakfast. Once all were satisfied Ernesto the Explorer rallied his best friend, arch enemy and Felix Ortiz and set off for a full day of exploratory goodness. Just before the lunch hour the quartet made first contact with the Animal Kingdom.

Ernesto was the first to set his eyes upon the bold new lands. He smiled, knowing that he had lived up to his name and could finally get back to town and just coast off of his achievements as an explorer. Maybe he’d open up that little top hat store he’d always dreamed of. If money ever got tight he could probably land some gigs talking at the University and telling about the time he discovered stuff. It would be sweet.

But in the meantime he figured he’d probably explore a little bit more and see what was up with this place. Tommy looked upon the new land with awe and wonder, while Davey cursed and wished a pox upon Ernesto and his family except his sister, who Davey had a thing for.

Upon entering the Animal Kingdom, the quartet was first greeted by a pig.

“Hail there, Pig,” said Ernesto. “We four represent the Kingdom of man. Perhaps you could lead us to your own King.”

The pig did just that and before too long the explorers of Man stood before the throne of the King Animal of Animal Kingdom.

“Welcome. Representatives of Mankind, to the Animal Kingdom!” Said the King Animal of the Animal Kingdom. “I am the King Animal of this Animal Kingdom.”

“A pleasure to meet you!” Said Ernesto. “I am Ernesto the Explorer.”

The King Animal said “Charmed.”

Ernesto gestured to Tommy. “This is my best friend Tommy. He is on my journey to help me make maps.”

The King Animal said “A pleasure.”

Ernesto gestured to Davey. “This is Davey, my arch enemy. He has joined me to serve as our cook and to attempt to sabotage our mission.”

The King Animal said “Delighted.”

Ernesto gestured to Felix Ortiz. “And this, of course, is Felix Ortiz.”

The King Animal said “Of course.”

And so a feast was held. Davey killed that pig and cooked him and everyone enjoyed the meal. Afterwards everyone got drunk and the Animal King and Ernesto the Explorer had a real heart to heart talk.

“I’m just saying, I mean, I’m saying that exploring is hard,” said Ernesto. “I’ve got to go all kinds of boring places and look at all sorts of… uh… y’know… boring places. And walking talks a long time, y’know? A long time. It’s hard work.”

“I know,” said the Animal King. “Hard work. Hey, I’m out of beer.”

“Here you go,” said Ernesto as he handed another bottle to the Animal King.

“Hey thanks, man!” said the Animal King. “I totally feel like you’ve saved my life. I love you. For your help, I will offer you the servitude of one of my many species of animals. Choose one.”

The assembled species of animals grumbled and moaned as Ernesto scanned the crowd for his choice. None of the species actually wanted to serve the humans. The skunks started their stinkiness, the monkeys started playing with their feces, the mosquitoes started buzzing annoyingly and the bears made subtle gestures to point at the rabbits.

This was a long time ago, so Man’s Best Friend the dog had not yet evolved from its rodent ancestors. As such the only animal that truly caught the group’s attention was the mighty, majestic, magnificent horses.

“I’ll take those guys!” said Ernesto. “We can sit on them and ride them around.”

A gasp escaped the horses, but the King Animal ignored it. “So be it!” he said, “take the horses and ride them! This is my gift to mankind. Now get out of here, you’re stinkin’ up the place.”

And so man left the Animal Kingdom, not to return until guns were invented. The bitter horses eventually accepted their fate and decided to work with humans instead of trying to piss them off. Also, at some point dogs got born.

To this day people still celebrate the anniversary of the day mankind first encountered the Animal Kingdom, only now it is referred to as “Bring You Daughter To Work Day”.

Patrick D Ryall, the D is for Anthologies
Originally posted on Contains2.com Friday 14 May 2004, 12:04 AM

Robexor was walking around on the bottom of the ocean and making records of the various shipwrecks he came across as he had been for the last few months when an idea process began in his computronic mind.

It had been a long time since he had been on the surface, he thought, maybe the world up there would be more to his liking now. There were too many variables for him to say for certain whether or not those insipid human things had not destroyed themselves or not. If they had, Robexor would certainly be able to enjoy himself back on the dry land. With that in mind he began walking towards the part of the world which his sensors told him was San Francisco.

As he neared the land he could see pollution that appeared too recent and then he saw boats trafficking overhead. Alas, the humans were still around. But at this point the idea of seeing the surface was one that he was looking forward to, so he continued unabated.

As he walked onto the shore he noted that dense clouds were melting overhead. He was mildly disappointed by the fact that he would not get to witness the sun glittering off of his wonderful metallic body. But seeing the water droplets hit him and bounce off was a pleasing enough change from his months of full submergence that he did not let the lack of sun sadden for long.

San Francisco was before him. Judging by its condition Robexor felt confident that humanity was probably still around the rest of the world as well. Oh well. He wandered around looking for something of interest.

For the first few minutes he wandered past humans going about what was, no doubt, a regular routine of rising from their preposterous state of sleep then busying themselves with menial little tasks that made no sense to one as complex as Robexor. The humans were such unimaginative little creatures who lived their lives within rigid little patterns. Robexor felt bad for them more than he disliked them, really. But he still disliked them.

Robexor spent the better part of the day cycle wandering back and forth across the city until a loud explosion downtown registered on his sound detectors. Wondering what could have caused it, he activated his rocketlegs and soared in the direction of the disturbance alighting at the very rim of a smoking crater.

Standing on the other edge of the crater was the only thing that vexed Robexor as much as the humans. It was other robots. The Robotic Raiders, to be exact. A gang of robots intent on killing all organic life and founding a proud Robot Earth upon the decaying remains. They considered themselves freedom fighters. Robexor considered them crazies.

Their leader, Cybo was holding a smoking supercannon and his robo cronies were looking on performing their vicious laughter routines. Cybo noticed the visitor across the crater.

“Hail, Robexor, mightiest of robots! What fortuitous fortune that we are fortunate enough to encounter you here!”

“Silence you simpering example of artificial unintelligence. For what reason are you attacking this human city?”

“Duh!” shouted Shooter P, Cybo’s most loyal toadie. “We’re killin’ humans!”

Cybo raised one of his arms to silence Shooter P and continued to focus on Robexor. He said “You know our stance on organic beings, Robexor. You feign surprise and show hypocrisy all at once. Your deathbeams are not inexperienced in the act of destroying human cities.”
“Yeah!” shouted Shooter P.

Robexor began slowly walking around the crater. In spite of their brave fronts, several of the Robotic Raiders began to back away.
“Hypocrite, am I?” Robexor spoke calmly. “I think not. I admit that I have, at times turned my weaponry on the humans…”

“Then why do you hate us?” asked Cybo, the only one still standing his ground, but he betrayed his nervousness as he adjusted his grip on the supercannon ever so slightly. “If anything you should join us, O Great Robexor. Among the robots of the new Robot Earth, you would surely be a king! Your disdain for the humans is no different than ours.”

“Ah, but it is,” Robexor now passed the halfway point of the crater. Several of the more cowardly Raiders decided their presence here wouldn’t be missed and quietly slunk away. “The differences, little Cybo, are not so subtle that you should miss them. First and foremost, my anger never extends to all organic life as yours does. Only the humans, who should know better should fear my wrath. But that is a minor difference compared to he second: My attacks on humanity are crimes of passion. I get angry. I get sad. I attack when I am afraid and when I grow incensed. But not you…

“You and this rabble of yours desire only the systematic destruction of life. You lack imagination. You’re stupid machines following programs. You aren’t thinking.

“Cybo, you were created by an evil human government to destroy enemies. I grant you points for destroying that government first, but you are still on the very course they laid out for you. And Shooter P here, were you not created to be an ideal assassin for a wealthy drug lord? Over there. Frog-Head. Created by a mad scientist to kill intruders the moat around his science castle. And there, trying to sneak away are you, Vikingor? You were created for the sole purpose of pillage.

“Not one of you has had an original thought in your existence. You aren’t robots. Why, you’re practically humans!”

The Raiders were silent. Robexor was now before Cybo, looking down on him. Human police and firemen had gathered near the crater, but were afraid to come close to the scene for all the robots.

Seeing that Cybo had nothing to say, Robexor continued. “Has it never occurred to you fools that you have no need to hurry? If you want a world without humans, all you need to do is wait them out? They won’t be here as long as you. Well?”

Cybo pulled the trigger and the supercannon spurt forth fire, heat and shrapnel into Robexor’s chest. The great robot’s weight shifted as the earth beneath him began to give. But he did not fall back. He swung his arm and Cybo’s head flew across the street.

Swiftly his deathbeam swept across the scene and every Robotic Raider still in the area was on the ground in at most two pieces. They would repair themselves, Robexor knew, but for the time being, let the humans attempt to contain these vandals.

He turned to the human rescuers and activated his megaspeakers. “Humans! Come rescue your fallen! These robots will bother you no more today.”

Robexor strode across the street as the police and paramedics and firemen ran to the scene. One man, a police chief Robexor assumed from his uniform, walked alongside Robexor for a moment.

“We sure are glad you were in town,” the human said awkwardly. “Thanks for stopping those bad robots.”

“Thanks are not necessary. But I must go now. I have to get back to what I was doing.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Waiting,” Robexor replied.

The End.

Patrick D Ryall, the D is for Creamy

Many decades ago, in the era now called the Bronze Age (which was at that point called the “post-modern era”) there was a man, who had three daughters. His eldest daughter, Clarice was the smartest girl in all their village and was also very beautiful. The two younger girls were twins named Betty and Bonnie and they were not as smart or pretty as their older sister, were both very jealous of Clarice and wanted to ruin her reputation in the village.

Mr. Carmine, for that was the name of the girls’ father, was not aware of the twins’ animosity for their older sibling. As far as he knew, his family was a happy one. And so one day, when he was on his way to work and the twins asked to come with him, he saw no reason why he should not do so.

Mr. Carmine had a very important job in his village. It was his responsibility to go from home to home and ensure that everyone had the regulation amount of floorboards. In these days man had not yet found a means to develop wood on their own, so it was such a rarity that the government made sure it was all being used well. Having too many floorboards was a crime punishable by death or taxation, depending on which party was in office at the time.

So Betty and Bonnie went with their father on his route. When the reached the first house Mr. Carmine told them to wait with the homeowner while he did his job. As it turned out, this home was owned by a little old lady named Mrs. Tuberculosis and she had pictures of airplanes on her walls (Of course, when I say pictures, I mean paintings, as photographs had not yet been invented in the Bronze Age).

Mrs. Tuberculosis was delighted to see the little girls and she offered them candy. “Such good little girls,” she said. “Won’t you just be so wonderful when you grow up to be as big like your sister, aren’t you?”

“Actually,” said Betty, “we’re kinda hoping that we won’t turn out like her.”

The old lady was taken by surprise. “Oh, why is that? She seems lovely.”

“Sure,” said Bonnie, “she seems lovely, but she’s really quite a bad person.”

The old lady gasped.

“It’s true,” said Betty. “I once saw her stab a dog with a knitting needle and then laugh.”

“Yeah,” said Bonnie. “And I once saw her urinate on a baby, then blame the baby for the smell!”

It was at this point that Mr. Carmine came back and told them that everything was okay. He ushered the girl off to their next home, leaving old Mrs. Tuberculosis to gossip with her older friends.

Betty and Bonnie were just thrilled at what they were accomplishing. They giggled to each other as they approached the next home.

Here Tommy Grover answered the door and Mr. Carmine said, “Well hello Tommy. Are your parents home?”

“No, Mr. Carmine. They told me to let you in.”

And so Mr. Carmine went about his work while the girls talked to Tommy. Tommy had a big crush on Clarice, so he was eager to ask how she was.

“She’s not good,” said Betty.

“She’s not?”

“No,” said Bonnie. “She’s sick.”

“Sick? Oh no!”

“Yeah, it’s a shame,” Betty went on. “She’s itching like crazy and she has a rash.”

“And it burns when she pees,” added Bonnie.

“My Heavens!” cried Tommy. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Oh it’s just all her sex diseases,” said Betty.

“She gets like this every year,” said Bonnie.

And so Tommy was extremely weirded out and was completely silent as the girls added to their sister’s fictional condition saying things about her spending nights with the diseased homeless men in the poor part of town, her dalliances with barnyard animals and her willingness to lay down with members of the armies of enemy nations. Finally Mr. Carmine was done and the girls again giggled all the way to the next house.

This house, an ancient mansion on a hill, was owned by the village’s Creepiest Resident (He had held this title for three years. It was awarded by the mayor himself), Mr. Kredick.

As he climbed the hill, Mr. Carmine cursed the size of the house, because he knew that there would be plenty of floorboards to count. Mr. Carmine’s job was important, he knew, but he didn’t like it. He hadn’t liked it since his partner got killed by that horrible crimeboss Mortez. He’d kill Mortez for that someday, Mr. Carmine swore.

The sun was beginning to set as they knocked on Mr. Kredick’s door. Kredick, a pale skinny old man with wispy long white hair and greyish eyes, answered their knock and let them in. Mr. Carmine was about to set about his work when: Mr. Kredick Attack! It turned out that he was a vampire! He knocked Mr. Carmine to the floor with a might sweep of his arm and then began to scratch at the girls.

Mr. Carmine knew he had to think quick to save his girls, so he grabbed the nearest thing at hand, a round piece of plastic (the lid to a tub of butter, to be exact) and threw it at the undead fiend. Mr. Kredick saw what Carmine had done and easily caught the flying disc.

“Hey,” Kredick exclaimed. “That was pretty fun.” And he tossed it back to Mr. Carmine.

“You’re right!” said Mr. Carmine and he then tossed it back. The two of them, and the girls (who were now permanently scarred from Kredick’s claws) all enjoyed their new toy. Mr. Carmine and Mr. Kredick decided to go into business together selling the device, which Mr. Kredick decided to name after his long lost love, Eleanor Frisbee.

And that’s how the Frisbee was invented. The man and the vampire both became very rich and eventually Mr. Kredick killed Mortez and took over the town’s crime syndicate.

Patrick D Ryall, the D is for Parade
Originally posted on Contains2 Sunday 11 September 2005

Every time that Dr. Dougie Whitman tried to shoot a bear, the bear flew away. Over the seventeen years since he started his career as a poacher this had happened to him at least forty times. In the beginning he would just walk into the woods and raise his gun and suddenly the bear was soaring through the air and over the horizon. After this had occurred a handful of times Whitman realized that as long as the bears could see him, they were going to fly away. He had to get upon them unawares. First Whitman decided to wear camouflage on his hunting trips. The bears still flew away. Then he started painting his face to blend in to the surroundings as well as his clothes. The bears still flew away. Then he decided to stop shouting swears every twenty seconds as he had been doing. The bears still flew away. He trained in the secret arts of the ninja. The bears still flew away. He learned to stop his body from leaving a scent. The bears still flew away. He learned to go without breathing or blinking for hours at a time. The bears still flew away. He developed invisibility cloaks and robotic decoys. The bears still flew away.

There came a day when Whitman’s boss Poacher Tom called Whitman into his office and sat him down.

“As you know,” said Poacher Tom “poachers get an eighteen year trial period. If they can’t shoot a bear during that time, I shoot them. Now, your trial period is almost up so you have one more chance to shoot a bear. Your life depends on this one.”

So, fearing for his very existence, Whitman returned to the forest and tried to come up with a plan.

His plan turned out to be begging the bear. He walked up to the bear and explained his situation and pleaded that the bear to let him shoot him and bring his hide back to Poacher Tom.

“Nope,” said the bear. “You try to shoot me and, you better believe I’m gonna fly away.”

Whitman curled up on the floor of the forest and cried. The bear shook his head and started walking away.

Just then, Whitman’s Extra Plan began. A large plastic dome fell down from Whitman’s orbital space base and landed on the forest. Suddenly Whitman and the bear were trapped under in a clear unbreakable bubble.

Whitman laughed! You won’t be able to fly away now, he told the bear.

“You forgot your gun,” the bear told Whitman.

Whitman stopped laughing. He checked his holster. He looked at the ground around where he had been crying. The bear was right. The gun was back in the cabin.

“You want to shoot me, you’re gonna have to open the dome. But if you do that, I’m flying myself away.”

Whitman was in shock. He had finally managed to trap a bear, to prevent it from flying, but he had still managed to mess it up. Maybe Poacher Tom was right to shoot him. Whitman lay on the forest floor and looked up at the dome, trying to think of what to do.

No plan came to him and he ended up just letting the bear fly away. He had accepted his fate.

“Well,” said Poacher Tom when Whitman got back to the office, “Looks like I’m shooting you, huh?”

Whitman nodded as Poacher Tom picked up and loaded his rifle. A tear slipped down Whitman’s cheek.

Poacher Tom raised his rifle and took aim.

Then Dr. Whitman flew up into the air and over the horizon. Apparently all the time he had spent with bears had caused him to accidentally pick up the secret of their flight. He hung out with bears for the rest of his happy life.