‘Tickling Butterflies’ – The Weapons Factory

If you’re just joining us, here’s the story so far.

Tickling Butterflies is an epic fantasy, containing 128 fairy tales that together create one huge story. We are in the middle:


The Weapons Factory

(Containing specific and impractical details of the rules of war in the Land of No Respect.)


After our encounters with the three doctors and the man who thought laughter was a hug, Benjamin Miller continued to tell his tale, we decided that the Land of No Respect was not the place for us.

We had come seeking other people who did not belong here, just like us, who could perhaps give us a clue about how we had arrived here and how we could return home. Instead, we found creatures of more legends and stories. They were born here, and were probably part of stories told by people in our original world, the world with tall buildings and lights on the ceiling of every room. The creatures of the Land of No Respect were probably part of funny stories, stories being told by parents to their children.

Nothing here, the three of us decided, would help us return home. And so we headed back to shore, and only slipped three times on the whipped cream.

But the island’s people and the island’s regulations stood in our way.

When we had arrived at our small boat, we saw the three doctors – Doctor Cuckoo, Doctor Wacky, and Doctor Zany – standing over our small boat, as it sunk into the water. They had put a hole in the bottom of the boat.

“What are you doing?” Cried Ochi.

“You, sir,” said Doctor Zany, “need some Vitamin L.”

“You, sir,” said Doctor Cuckoo, “need your head screwed on straighter.”

“You, sir,” said Doctor Wacky, “need a funny tooth.”

We stood there as our boat sank, not knowing how we would get home.

Ochi was furious with the three doctors. He chased them across the sands for two hours. The doctors evaded him easily, and he slipped on the whipped cream time and time again. Within an hour, he had broken two more bones.

The doctors seemed to tire, and went back home, promising to return the next day.

Then, just as the sun began to sink, Ochi spotted a factory at the bottom of the mountain. Despite our protestations that he must rest, Ochi climbed the mountain and saw that the factory was a weapons factory. It had guns, cannons, dynamite, and thousands of other weapons, each more creative than the previous one.

The next morning, before the sun rose, Ochi went to the street in which the three doctors lived. He climbed the roof of the opposite building, and waited there, with a gun.

An hour later, Doctor Wacky was the first to step out of the house.

Ochi put the doctor within his sights, and pressed the trigger. Doctor Wacky had just then bent down to tie his shoe. The bullet whizzed by his ear, bounced off the wall behind him, bounced off the ground, bounced off two more walls around the building, then kept bouncing off walls, slowly climbing up, until it hit Ochi right in his behind.

At that time, you see, we did not know the complete set of the rules and regulations of the Land of No Respect. There was a rule and regulation precisely for such incidents, and it was this: Any weapon will find a way to act against the person using it.

If you fire a gun, it will ultimately fire upon you. If you blow up dynamite, it will blow up on you. Somehow the laws of nature change in the Land of No Respect, and dynamite will find a way not to explode unless you go to look why your weapon did not fire, and guns will find a way to bounce the bullets back on you, and electricity will only electrify you.

Ochi learned this the hard way. For the following week, he woke up early every day and tried to kill the three doctors with another weapon, always with the same result. The cannon’s ball dropped on his foot. The dynamite made his ears explode. The rocket turned around in mid-air and chased him around the island. The carpet he put over the hole in the ground held when the doctors walked on it. Only when Ochi walked on it, to check what was wrong, did it collapse and Ochi fell into the hole.

With every day that passed, Ochi was more injured and sicker and more broken. Within a week, he was half the man he used to be, his skin charred, his bones broken, his hair had fallen out, and his right foot was twice its original size because of the cannon ball that had fallen on it.

Ochi is not like you, King John the Cute. He isn’t a story, and his body does not bounce back easily. You can take quite a lot of punishment, but not us. Ochi needed rest, but he would not take it. He insisting on chasing the doctors with more weapons that he claimed could not fail.

Within three more days, his body collapsed, and he died. He was unclaimed by Death. Apparently, your Death does not deal with real people. We buried him at the bottom of the mountain.

That is the story of how the three of us outcasts became two outcasts, who were stuck on an island that did not make sense.

“Fascinating,” said King John the Cute. “And I weep for your friend. Please, go on.”


(To be continued on Sunday…)

Like my writing? Try ‘The Emoticon Generation’.


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3 Responses to “‘Tickling Butterflies’ – The Weapons Factory”

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