“Well now,” said The Emperor, “That’s a pretty
good shot there Captain. But watch this.”
The Emperor then proceeded to launch a shot
that landed just a few feet beyond Brownbeard’s
hit. The Emperor and The Captain proceeded to
dual it out, each smashing their rock farther than
the one hit previously. All the while, Brownbeard
would go into his stance, tongue curled, standing
upon right foot, eyes crossed. The coliseum was
nuts. Human, beast and monster were cheering the
two combatants on and imitating Brownbeard.
Little tikes were standing on one leg, crossing
their eyes and curling their tongues as best they
could, pretending to launch rocks into the
stratosphere. Then the other rock dingers joined in
and started hitting rocks this way and that into the
bleachers. Never before has there been such an
aimless display of brute force in the galaxy. The
fans loved it and cheered and cheered and cheered.
A reptilian looking rock cracker tried to imitate
Brownbeard’s style with very limited success. A
three-year old human toddler could have thrown
the rock farther. For his effort, the lizard warrior
was promptly and severely pummeled by several
other rock knockers, one of whom managed to
steal his rock. This fellow then ran as fast as he
could with the other warriors in pursuit, trying to
hit the rock before he too might be knocked
senseless.
Other warriors tried to hit the way Brownbeard
did as well, but no one had any success. The fans
booed, jeered, taunted, and laughed. But looking
to egg on the crowd, the rock slammers resorted to
all other manner of smacking. One fellow threw
his rock up and then turned around, bent over, and
peered out from below his hindquarters. With
great skill, this fellow managed to hit the rock
from upside down and between his legs. The rock
sailed out and almost cleared the fence where the
fans were screaming and yelling. Some creatures
used their tails to hit their rocks. Scrums broke
out all over the field as the point of this game
became less and less obvious. At the moment, all
the other players left The Emperor and The
Captain alone as they battled it out to see who
could hit the farthest.
“Oh! Oh! Would you look at that one!” shouted
the vampire. “It’s a beauty! Look at it go! That’s
the farthest one yet! Whoa! Watch out below!
Yikes! I hope that fellow’s okay! Is there a doctor
in the house? Wooo! Hooo! Nice shot!”
Brownbeard prepared to take his next whack.
He and The Emperor were now sending shots into
the fourth deck. There wasn’t much room left in
the place. Never before had the crowd seen their
Emperor hit such fine shots. Never before had
another rock dinger challenged him like this. The
crowd roared as Brownbeard set to take his swing
when—SLAMMM! He was pummeled from
behind by a marauding group of warriors who
were not particularly good at hitting their rocks,
but who excelled at hurting the other participants.
Brownbeard found himself at the bottom of a
massive pile. He sucked in as hard as he could,
trying to draw breath from beneath this large,
smelly mass that was rubbing him into the turf.
From deep beneath the mound, he could hear The
Emperor’s booming voice shouting, “Get off there
you scoundrels! Aaaaghhh! Get outta here!”
Slowly the weight of the pile eased as one by
one, The Emperor and a few other warriors
worked to pull Brownbeard’s assailants off. The
Emperor took the werewolf and single handedly
flung him several feet into the air. Plastered onto
the ground, an aching Brownbeard looked up at
the large hand extended down to him by The
Emperor. Brownbeard was having a very hard
time figuring out the rules of the game in which
alliances formed and broke spontaneously for no
rhyme or reason. Brownbeard gratefully took the
hand of The Emperor, who pulled him to his feet
and gave him back his stick.
“There you go buddy,” smiled The Emperor.
“Thanks,” said Brownbeard.
The crowd cheered in appreciation.
YEAAAHHHH! WE LOVE YOU EMPEROR!
WE LOVE YOU CAPTAIN!
Then, The Captain and The Emperor felt the
ground beneath them rumble. Each turned to look
in horror as about twenty other combatants
charged them. Both The Emperor and The
Captain, macho though they might be, shrieked
like Little Miss Muffet when the spider came
along as they were crushed by the onslaught. Now
the war was really on! The crowd loved it!
The battle raged. The Emperor and The Captain
struggled to wage their own contest, while at the
same time pummeling and being pummeled.
Brownbeard could never figure out who, if
anybody, was on his team. But in an effort to
maintain their own rivalry, he and The Emperor
endeavored to help each other out whenever
possible.
Slowly, little by little by little, the other rock
jammers began to fall off. Some, huffing and
puffing with exhaustion, limped off the field to
applause and boos. Some left on stretchers.
Finally, there remained only The Captain and The
Emperor. And, as luck would have it, there were
two rocks remaining where once there had been a
pile! How incredibly dramatic! Can you imagine
the scene? The crowd was wrung out emotionally.
This was too much. Simply too much.
Fatigued—aching—the two last rock rammers
walked together to the two last rocks. Hands held
high, waving to the fanatics in the crowd, which
was everyone, they each picked up a rock.
“You first,” said The Emperor.
“Are you sure?” asked The Captain.
“As a guest in my house, I would have it no
other way,” said The Emperor.
Brownbeard knew that every time since the
game had begun, either he or The Emperor had hit
their rock further than the previous shot. If he was
to win this contest, The Captain would have to
launch a shot so far that The Emperor would be
impaired psychologically. Brownbeard needed to
send the message on this shot that The Emperor
need not even bother swinging.
All followed as before. Relaxing breath. Tongue
curled. Leg up. Eyes crossed. Toss.
CRACK!!!
The Captain’s shot was remarkable on a night
that had seen nothing less than the miraculous.
The rock sailed high over the fourth level
bleachers, over the fifth level bleachers, over the
sixth level bleachers, five rows of seats back into
the seventh level bleachers! He had sent his
message, The Captain had! He didn’t beat The
Emperor’s last shot incrementally. Brownbeard
blew The Emperor’s last hit away by a ton.
The Emperor was sweating. The roar of the
crowd slowly subsided as all watched to see if
their beloved leader was at last to be unseated.
Tension filled the coliseum. Everyone knew that
The Emperor, mighty as he was, had never hit one
as far as The Captain just had. Not even close.
The Emperor stared glassy eyed into the distance.
He closed his eyes and mumbled to himself. And
then, he tossed his rock high above, and on its way
down, he swung and hit it.
TING!!!!
Perfect. Sweet it was when The Emperor’s stick
met the rock. Never before had so perfect a shot
been hit. The rock sailed on and on as it followed
the contrail of The Captain’s shot. But this hit had
a wee bit more zip. It sailed over the fourth level
bleachers. It sailed over the fifth level bleachers.
It sailed over the sixth level bleachers. It sailed
into the seventh level bleachers. There, a bloke
sitting in the sixth row with large ears and a long
nose caught the rock in his snout! The cheers and
applause made the entire coliseum tremble. Thus,
The Emperor fought off the greatest challenge to
his pre-eminence that ever was mounted.
The Captain extended his hand in
congratulations to The Emperor. The Emperor
grabbed The Captain and squeezed him in a
humongous bear-hug. Brownbeard’s eyes bulged.
The other warriors ran or limped onto the field to
pile on the two great rock pounders. Not a dry eye
was to be found in the entire coliseum.
There was not a dry eye in all of Sa’Laam for
that matter, for the events of the night had been
broadcast all over The Empire. In fact, the event
had been broadcast all over the planet and all over
the Milky Way. Citizens of any civilization
advanced enough to have access to the ALL YOU’
LL EVER NEED TO KNOW NEWS AND
ENTERTAINMENT NETWORK, or
AYENTOKNAEN for short, were able to laugh,
scream, jump and cry for joy at the remarkable
events that transpired in the coliseum.
A tattered-and-torn Brownbeard made his way
over to the For Sale crew.
“Good work,” said Hazel.
Brownbeard laughed.
“Are you kidding me? That was all you! Good
work to you,” said Brownbeard in appreciation.
Kumquat, Wilbert and Schmoor hugged
Brownbeard in excitement.
“No,” said Hazel. “It was a team effort.”
Brownbeard and Hazel looked at one another.
Brownbeard looked down and said, “Hazel —
uhm—I’m—”
“Don’t Brownie, I know,” said Hazel, who had
up to this point not been teary-eyed.
“No, really,” said Brownbeard as he looked into
Hazel’s beautiful green eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Brownie,” said Hazel, “I’m sorry too.”
For the first time, Brownbeard hugged the
beautiful sand witch Hazel. This, too, was caught
on the picture window and broadcast all over the
galaxy. There was a collective,
“AAAAWWWWWWWWW!” from the crowd.
“KISS HER YOU FOOL!”
Hazel blushed. Brownbeard blushed. Hazel and
Brownbeard blushed.
“Come on folks!” said The Emperor, clapping a
hand upon Brownbeard’s shoulder. “Let’s get
going, Captain! You and your entourage shall be
my guests at the Imperial Homestead! Ah-ha! No,
no! I will not take no for an answer! To my private
airship!”
With that, the crew of the For Sale exited the
coliseum to the accolades and salutations of one-
million adoring fans. Somewhere up high in the
last level of bleachers, on the far side of the
coliseum, stood two figures in black—skeletal
faces peering from underneath shadowy hoods.
One of the skeletons was trembling a bit. The
other looked its way and shook its head. Then it
reached underneath its robes and took out a
handkerchief which it handed to its partner.
Gratefully accepting, the shaking skeleton took the
handkerchief and blotted at its eye sockets. The
other skeleton plopped into its seat in
exasperation. It could not stand sentimentality.
good shot there Captain. But watch this.”
The Emperor then proceeded to launch a shot
that landed just a few feet beyond Brownbeard’s
hit. The Emperor and The Captain proceeded to
dual it out, each smashing their rock farther than
the one hit previously. All the while, Brownbeard
would go into his stance, tongue curled, standing
upon right foot, eyes crossed. The coliseum was
nuts. Human, beast and monster were cheering the
two combatants on and imitating Brownbeard.
Little tikes were standing on one leg, crossing
their eyes and curling their tongues as best they
could, pretending to launch rocks into the
stratosphere. Then the other rock dingers joined in
and started hitting rocks this way and that into the
bleachers. Never before has there been such an
aimless display of brute force in the galaxy. The
fans loved it and cheered and cheered and cheered.
A reptilian looking rock cracker tried to imitate
Brownbeard’s style with very limited success. A
three-year old human toddler could have thrown
the rock farther. For his effort, the lizard warrior
was promptly and severely pummeled by several
other rock knockers, one of whom managed to
steal his rock. This fellow then ran as fast as he
could with the other warriors in pursuit, trying to
hit the rock before he too might be knocked
senseless.
Other warriors tried to hit the way Brownbeard
did as well, but no one had any success. The fans
booed, jeered, taunted, and laughed. But looking
to egg on the crowd, the rock slammers resorted to
all other manner of smacking. One fellow threw
his rock up and then turned around, bent over, and
peered out from below his hindquarters. With
great skill, this fellow managed to hit the rock
from upside down and between his legs. The rock
sailed out and almost cleared the fence where the
fans were screaming and yelling. Some creatures
used their tails to hit their rocks. Scrums broke
out all over the field as the point of this game
became less and less obvious. At the moment, all
the other players left The Emperor and The
Captain alone as they battled it out to see who
could hit the farthest.
“Oh! Oh! Would you look at that one!” shouted
the vampire. “It’s a beauty! Look at it go! That’s
the farthest one yet! Whoa! Watch out below!
Yikes! I hope that fellow’s okay! Is there a doctor
in the house? Wooo! Hooo! Nice shot!”
Brownbeard prepared to take his next whack.
He and The Emperor were now sending shots into
the fourth deck. There wasn’t much room left in
the place. Never before had the crowd seen their
Emperor hit such fine shots. Never before had
another rock dinger challenged him like this. The
crowd roared as Brownbeard set to take his swing
when—SLAMMM! He was pummeled from
behind by a marauding group of warriors who
were not particularly good at hitting their rocks,
but who excelled at hurting the other participants.
Brownbeard found himself at the bottom of a
massive pile. He sucked in as hard as he could,
trying to draw breath from beneath this large,
smelly mass that was rubbing him into the turf.
From deep beneath the mound, he could hear The
Emperor’s booming voice shouting, “Get off there
you scoundrels! Aaaaghhh! Get outta here!”
Slowly the weight of the pile eased as one by
one, The Emperor and a few other warriors
worked to pull Brownbeard’s assailants off. The
Emperor took the werewolf and single handedly
flung him several feet into the air. Plastered onto
the ground, an aching Brownbeard looked up at
the large hand extended down to him by The
Emperor. Brownbeard was having a very hard
time figuring out the rules of the game in which
alliances formed and broke spontaneously for no
rhyme or reason. Brownbeard gratefully took the
hand of The Emperor, who pulled him to his feet
and gave him back his stick.
“There you go buddy,” smiled The Emperor.
“Thanks,” said Brownbeard.
The crowd cheered in appreciation.
YEAAAHHHH! WE LOVE YOU EMPEROR!
WE LOVE YOU CAPTAIN!
Then, The Captain and The Emperor felt the
ground beneath them rumble. Each turned to look
in horror as about twenty other combatants
charged them. Both The Emperor and The
Captain, macho though they might be, shrieked
like Little Miss Muffet when the spider came
along as they were crushed by the onslaught. Now
the war was really on! The crowd loved it!
The battle raged. The Emperor and The Captain
struggled to wage their own contest, while at the
same time pummeling and being pummeled.
Brownbeard could never figure out who, if
anybody, was on his team. But in an effort to
maintain their own rivalry, he and The Emperor
endeavored to help each other out whenever
possible.
Slowly, little by little by little, the other rock
jammers began to fall off. Some, huffing and
puffing with exhaustion, limped off the field to
applause and boos. Some left on stretchers.
Finally, there remained only The Captain and The
Emperor. And, as luck would have it, there were
two rocks remaining where once there had been a
pile! How incredibly dramatic! Can you imagine
the scene? The crowd was wrung out emotionally.
This was too much. Simply too much.
Fatigued—aching—the two last rock rammers
walked together to the two last rocks. Hands held
high, waving to the fanatics in the crowd, which
was everyone, they each picked up a rock.
“You first,” said The Emperor.
“Are you sure?” asked The Captain.
“As a guest in my house, I would have it no
other way,” said The Emperor.
Brownbeard knew that every time since the
game had begun, either he or The Emperor had hit
their rock further than the previous shot. If he was
to win this contest, The Captain would have to
launch a shot so far that The Emperor would be
impaired psychologically. Brownbeard needed to
send the message on this shot that The Emperor
need not even bother swinging.
All followed as before. Relaxing breath. Tongue
curled. Leg up. Eyes crossed. Toss.
CRACK!!!
The Captain’s shot was remarkable on a night
that had seen nothing less than the miraculous.
The rock sailed high over the fourth level
bleachers, over the fifth level bleachers, over the
sixth level bleachers, five rows of seats back into
the seventh level bleachers! He had sent his
message, The Captain had! He didn’t beat The
Emperor’s last shot incrementally. Brownbeard
blew The Emperor’s last hit away by a ton.
The Emperor was sweating. The roar of the
crowd slowly subsided as all watched to see if
their beloved leader was at last to be unseated.
Tension filled the coliseum. Everyone knew that
The Emperor, mighty as he was, had never hit one
as far as The Captain just had. Not even close.
The Emperor stared glassy eyed into the distance.
He closed his eyes and mumbled to himself. And
then, he tossed his rock high above, and on its way
down, he swung and hit it.
TING!!!!
Perfect. Sweet it was when The Emperor’s stick
met the rock. Never before had so perfect a shot
been hit. The rock sailed on and on as it followed
the contrail of The Captain’s shot. But this hit had
a wee bit more zip. It sailed over the fourth level
bleachers. It sailed over the fifth level bleachers.
It sailed over the sixth level bleachers. It sailed
into the seventh level bleachers. There, a bloke
sitting in the sixth row with large ears and a long
nose caught the rock in his snout! The cheers and
applause made the entire coliseum tremble. Thus,
The Emperor fought off the greatest challenge to
his pre-eminence that ever was mounted.
The Captain extended his hand in
congratulations to The Emperor. The Emperor
grabbed The Captain and squeezed him in a
humongous bear-hug. Brownbeard’s eyes bulged.
The other warriors ran or limped onto the field to
pile on the two great rock pounders. Not a dry eye
was to be found in the entire coliseum.
There was not a dry eye in all of Sa’Laam for
that matter, for the events of the night had been
broadcast all over The Empire. In fact, the event
had been broadcast all over the planet and all over
the Milky Way. Citizens of any civilization
advanced enough to have access to the ALL YOU’
LL EVER NEED TO KNOW NEWS AND
ENTERTAINMENT NETWORK, or
AYENTOKNAEN for short, were able to laugh,
scream, jump and cry for joy at the remarkable
events that transpired in the coliseum.
A tattered-and-torn Brownbeard made his way
over to the For Sale crew.
“Good work,” said Hazel.
Brownbeard laughed.
“Are you kidding me? That was all you! Good
work to you,” said Brownbeard in appreciation.
Kumquat, Wilbert and Schmoor hugged
Brownbeard in excitement.
“No,” said Hazel. “It was a team effort.”
Brownbeard and Hazel looked at one another.
Brownbeard looked down and said, “Hazel —
uhm—I’m—”
“Don’t Brownie, I know,” said Hazel, who had
up to this point not been teary-eyed.
“No, really,” said Brownbeard as he looked into
Hazel’s beautiful green eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Brownie,” said Hazel, “I’m sorry too.”
For the first time, Brownbeard hugged the
beautiful sand witch Hazel. This, too, was caught
on the picture window and broadcast all over the
galaxy. There was a collective,
“AAAAWWWWWWWWW!” from the crowd.
“KISS HER YOU FOOL!”
Hazel blushed. Brownbeard blushed. Hazel and
Brownbeard blushed.
“Come on folks!” said The Emperor, clapping a
hand upon Brownbeard’s shoulder. “Let’s get
going, Captain! You and your entourage shall be
my guests at the Imperial Homestead! Ah-ha! No,
no! I will not take no for an answer! To my private
airship!”
With that, the crew of the For Sale exited the
coliseum to the accolades and salutations of one-
million adoring fans. Somewhere up high in the
last level of bleachers, on the far side of the
coliseum, stood two figures in black—skeletal
faces peering from underneath shadowy hoods.
One of the skeletons was trembling a bit. The
other looked its way and shook its head. Then it
reached underneath its robes and took out a
handkerchief which it handed to its partner.
Gratefully accepting, the shaking skeleton took the
handkerchief and blotted at its eye sockets. The
other skeleton plopped into its seat in
exasperation. It could not stand sentimentality.
The Adventures of Short Stubbly Brownbeard
Alan J. Levine
* * *
Chapter Thirty
Buy yer hard copy
at . . .
at . . .
Want to support
children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
with mental health and
hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
also available to
schools and libraries
through wholesalers
like Follett, Ingram,
and Baker & Taylor.
children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
with mental health and
hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
also available to
schools and libraries
through wholesalers
like Follett, Ingram,
and Baker & Taylor.
