Hey friend!
Welcome to another edition of the world-famous blog for funny fantasy tales and crazy happenings, The Diary of a Wizard. It’s brought to you as always with a little twist of magic. This week I’ve gotta babysit a wood elf through no intention of my own. Of course, in The Enchanted Woods this is bound to be anything but straight forward. So, let’s get into it.
I was out walking alone on day one of the week, through the woods, minding my own beeswax, when I heard footsteps coming right towards me. Then I heard a voice.
“Mister Wizard, wait up,” it said all out of puff and breathey.
I rolled my eyes a little. I was just trying to get some quiet time, but seems, in the life of a mighty wizard, quiet time is luxury one is little afforded. It was Old Man Grumples. He’s called “Old Man” on account of him being considered super old, even though he’s a mere pup compared to me. I awaited him cos he isn’t very quick nowadays.
“Thanks, Mister Wizard,” he panted. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“But there’s no one else here,” I pointed out.
“No, no no, he’s in my pocket.”
“Wow. He must be only a wee little fella.”
Old Man Grumples reached in his pocket, pulled out a little chap with a wispy beard. He was clearly some kind of elf.
“Here.” He handed him to me. “Must dash,” he said and ran off. To my surprise, he suddenly moved a lot quicker than he did before.
“Bye, mate,” the elf yelled after him. “It’s been the most wonderful time.”
“Yeah, whatever, man,” was the distant reply.
The elf looked up at me excitedly and jiggled a little while rubbing his hands together. He nodded towards me enthusiastically as if to prompt me to talk.
“Hi, I’m The Wizard. Who are you?”
“I’m a wood elf, I am, and Chuckcock’s me name.”
“Interesting name, that, Chuckcock.”
“Isn’t it though, eh, eh. Wanna hear how it came to be I got such a name, eh, wizard, huh?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Well, I think precisely 479 years ago, on a balmy afternoon such as this here very one, two wood elves met. That happened to be my great great great great great great great great grandfather and my great great great great great great great grandmother. They fell in love based around a shared passion for collecting pencil shavings, you see. And then after much time courting, about 2 hours I think it was, they were married. There were special cuddles, and they popped out a bunch of sproglets, 17 in total. One was called Jones after his father’s late father’s late brother Earnest’s middle name. One was called June cos she was named on the first Tuesday in July when the blood moon was in Aquarius and the irony of it. of course, made everyone laugh. Then there was Harry, he came to be addressed as that on account of his fourteenth cousin on his sister’s side, but she was really named Judith, people just called her Harry, on account of her beard, which she inherited from her grandmother’s aunt from her third marriage, Suzy…”
2 and 1/4 of the longest hours in history later…
“And then their pet snail, saw the bird stealing the windowsill pie from the fuzzy red bear on a Wednesday afternoon, and so, that’s me. I’m Chuckcock.”
“How fascinating,” I said.
“Would you like to hear how I came to have this hair style, at all?”
“Mate, honestly not…”
“Well, when I was a kid, my mum took me to a concert to see that huge haired elven pop star, Mucho, and his backing dancer Gloria was a friend of my cousin Grim…”
1 and ¾ hours later…
“Then the fairy attacked the college professor with a generational curse, and that’s how I decided on this style.”
“Chuckcock,” I said. “I’m gonna take you somewhere.”
“Oh, I like going somewheres.” He said excitedly. “Do you wanna hear about the last time I went to a somewhere?”
“Even if I don’t, you’re gonna tell me anyway, right?”
“It started on the seventh morning of August 1974…”
Many miles on my trusty magical steed Horace and 3 and 2/3 days later…
“Caladium… Caladium Crane.” I called outside my best friend and 500-year-old cave witch, Caladium Crane’s, cave witch cave entrance.
“Hello stranger!” She threw her arms around me. “Thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“Forget about you. I love you and miss you!”
“That’s nice,” she said. “But why are you here all unannounced and stuff, then?”
“Well, I got someone to introduce you to.”
“But there’s no one else here,” she pointed out.
“No, no no, he’s in my pocket.”
“Wow. He must be only a wee little fella.”
“Here.” I handed Chuckcock to her. “Must dash,” I said as Horace and I rode off swiftly into the woods.
“Bye, mate,” the elf yelled after me. “It’s been the most wonderful time.”
“Yeah, whatever, man,” was my distant reply.
I got back home, took off my pointy boots and my hat, and settled down in blissful peace.
Looking back, Chuckcock, is the most annoying and boring thing I ever met, and I’ve met many things in my long and varied existence. He doesn’t half bang on about a load of old tosh for ages. That dude has no idea about small talk, I tell ya. He’s all about the big talk, endless big talk, for-flaming-ever.
I must confess to a prang of guilt about stitching Caladium up like that, however. I’m almost 107% certain she’ll seek revenge in the very next edition of The Diary of a Wizard, though of course, not even I can predict the future or anything like that. I mean she’s a bit of a psycho so I should probably be fairly worried. But what can you do? She’s a mate.
Come back next time for a whole bunch of fantasy fun. I’m gonna go write cool stories for you now.
I hope the week brings you magic, and fun, and beauty, and belly laughter, but mostly, I wish you peace.
See ya next time friend!
BB
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Barry S. Brunswick is an author and best selling poet.
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Dreamland Part 1 – The Fabric of Dreams
Dreamland Part 2 – The Masters of Light
Dreamland Part 3 – The Veil of Shadow
