WHAT!? You were expecting our traditional Wednesday film review?! HAH! Foolish traditionalist. Nope, things are changing around here.

As of 2024, cultural reviews will be shifted over to Saturday. And we’re dedicating a weekly Wednesday slot to a short story. This’ll be 1,000 words or less and is just an opportunity for us to create.

Anyway, we’ll give it a go and if it’s a waste of time we’ll resort back to the previous film review thing.

But we’re starting things off with an extract from a novella we’re working on at the moment. Let us know what you think!

The Adventures of Fiddlesticks the Destroyer (an extract from a novella)

Synopsis: Fiddlesticks the hamster warrior and her troop of disorderly warriors hear news of a terrible vegetable wreaking havoc in a distant land. Heroically, Fiddlesticks encourages her team to hunt down the horrifying vegetable and put an end to its rampage!!!

Cast:

• Fiddlesticks the Destroyer (a most noble hamster)
• Raving Looney (an anarchic shrew)
• Dave the Demon (a nuisance-based Satan Spawn)
• Keith (a bumbling guinea pig)

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From out of the mist loomed a mysterious figure!

At least three times the size of Fiddlesticks the hamster, it was covered in a big black robe. Its eyes were yellow and it looked like a hedgehog with a sausage dog’s body. Fiddlesticks decided it was The Sausagehog Monster and no other name would ever do.

As the mist swirled upward in a gloom she bravely stood her ground. Fiddlesticks drew forth her matchstick sword and aimed it forward at the unknown beast. This was her challenge!

Fiddlesticks: Who goes there!?!

The Sausagehog Monster: …

Fiddlesticks: I said… who goes there!?!

No response?! 97.6% of the time Fiddlesticks got a response to such scenarios. This was odd. Baffled, she turned to consult with the others as The Sausagehog Monster stood silently behind them staring into the middle-distance. They grouped together in a huddle.

Fiddlesticks: Well… no response so far! A bit disappointing.

Dave the Demon: I suggest we set it on fire!

Armleg Fistfoot: Again!?! Again with this, Dave, will you drop that?!? It’s not helping!

Dave the Demon: Sorry…

Fiddlesticks: Serious suggestions only, please!

Raving Looney: Well, I like the setting it on fire thing…

Keith: Me too, to be honest. At least it’d be over and we can move on with our lives.

Fiddlesticks: But what if it won’t catch fire?

Fiddlestick’s point dulled the notion they should immolate The Sausagehog Monster into a different dimension. Something else would have to do! But what?!? They stood about in a circle umming and erring as they mulled it over.

What if they just walked around this thing and left it be? Maybe it was totally out of it on cake and candy and couldn’t think coherently. Maybe it couldn’t speak! Perhaps that was it. The silent monster from the woods who just liked hanging around and freaking animals out a bit by emerging suddenly in a dramatic cloud of gloom. Or maybe… maybe it was trying to steal their pumpkin seeds! Oh my days, thought Fiddlesticks, this was just about the worst pickle any of them could have ever thought to have…

The Sausagehog Monster: Would you like some cookies?

They all performed a sharp about turn to stare at the monster. Its expression was quite emotionless, but it held forth in one hand some famous branded cookies it’d purchased (or perhaps stolen) from a high-quality supermarket.

Dave the Demon: Not gonna lie, I’d love some cookies. Thanks!

He made as if to rush forward to grab the cookies, but Fiddlesticks held him back with her heroic paws.

Dave the Demon: Fiddle… what are you doing!?

Fiddlesticks: Just wait!!!

Dave the Demon: But I want cookies!

Keith: Yeah, I want cookies, too!

Raving Looney: COOKIES!!!

Armleg Fistfoot: Me too! We can share them together!

Dave the Demon: Well, no, that wasn’t my plan actually…

Keith: Oh, typical. Typical! Typical Dave the Demon and his demonic greed. Just like last time with the organic raisins and you ate all of them.

Dave the Demon: I called the cookies first, Keith. First dibs. Me!

Raving Looney: Well I never! You’ve no idea the magnitude of my capabilities to DESTROY all around me in the name of such greed!

Dave the Demon: So you keep saying! But when are you ever going to demonstrate these, so called, powers?

Raving Looney: In time!

Keith: This is stupid! I’m getting the cookies!!

Fiddlesticks: NOOOO!!!!

She struck her matchstick blade into the ground a mighty strike so as to cease the babbling. And the babbling, it did so cease. She looked at the bag of cookies and, by cripes, they sure did look tempting. Double chocolate chip premium range, freshly baked that day and ready to be eaten by a hungry troop of adventurers. Everyone’s mouths were watering and Fiddlesticks realised they looked a bit daft in front of the monster. Not like brave adventurers at all.

But her father, Murray, had always said to her:

“Common sense is like blueberries. Excellent, until they’re mouldly.”

It made perfect sense to her here now. Wise advice. Now… what was the meaning of the cookies? Why? Why here? Why not, for example, a chippy with some greasy bloke serving up chips with mushy peas? That’d be more normal, she supposed, or at least just some low-quality service station with poor quality packets of crisps. Gosh, this was all just so confusing!

After minutes of waiting, The Sausagehog Monster started to look a little annoyed. It took its arm holding the delicious cookies away and grunted.

The Sausagehog Monster: You do not want these fresh store-bought cookies, baked by specialists to be extra delicious? This is most disappointing.

Fiddlesticks: We don’t wish to be rude, Sausagehog Monster, and please forgive my marauding troop of savages. We’re just unsure of the nature of this offer. Be it kind gesture, or do you have some devious plan here? Forgive my direct approach, but I feel we must be honest with you.

The Sausagehog Monster blinked and squinted, then squinted and blinked. It looked bemused and even a bit concerned. While jamming a finger on its spare hand up its nose and having a good rummage, it then responded.

The Sausagehog Monster: Whom is the Sausagehog Monster?

Fiddlesticks was put off by the nose picking. How rude! Sure, picking your nose is great, but never in front of other beasts and beings! It’s something you do in private. Such as scoffing down loads and loads of organic pumpkin seeds in a frenzy of organic pumpkin seed consumption. Oh gosh, how Fiddlesticks yearned for such days to return. She shook her head, not wanting to get back into that whole thing just yet. There were more important things to address! Such as now and with this weird beast.

Fiddlesticks: That’s… that’s the name I, er, gave you. Sorry, Sausagehog Monster.

The Sausagehog Monster: But my name is John.

Fiddlesticks: That’s, erm… yes, well, it’s a bit more boring if I’m honest.

The Sausagehog Monster was very offended by this statement. He stood for a few moments with his mouth hanging open, before opening and closing with no words emerging. Then he emerged from his stupor to fire back a rebuttal.

The Sausagehog Monster: Boring?!? I’ll have you know there’s a very long dynasty of Johns in my clan dating back hundreds of years!

Fiddlesticks didn’t want to offend the beast any further, but was getting a bit irritated by how long this whole experience was dragging on for. She looked across at Raving Looney and his face had blanked out—he was bored, all right. Armleg wasn’t even hiding it, he was yawning and not bothering to cover his open mouth when yawning. She pushed him on the shoulder to chastise him and glared.

Armleg Fisfoot: What? Have we got the cookies yet?

Fiddlesticks: No! For fricks sake! Right… URGhhhhhH! Sorry, Mr. The Sausagehog Monster, but it’s really in our best interests to keep moving. The good news for you is you get to keep the cookies, but thank you for offering them to us anyway.

Dave the Demon: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Dave was not best pleased with such stupid news. In a blind cookie-based panic, he bolted forward paws outstretched, an expression of extreme delight and terror on his face. The Sausagehog Monster lifted the bag of cookies up again and Dave rushed, seemingly in slow motion, toward them with Fiddlestick’s last ditch attempt to grab him falling just short.

It was a big moment. Just what exactly was going to happen to Dave?!

Fiddlesticks was sure of it. He was going to be evaporated into thin air! Or exploded, like some sort of sick and devious contradiction on her status as a Destroyer. Then they’d be minus Dave, who was a superb addition to the troop thanks to his… well, nothing really. To be honest, maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he was whisked away. Then it’d be one less hungry mouth to feed each day.

Her thoughts played out as she, nevertheless, attempted to save poor old hapless Dave the Demon. Alas, doth he did make it to The Sausagehog Monster and the cookies. Fiddlesticks hit the dirt and began instinctively burrowing into the ground to escape the impending explosion.

As she burrowed furiously, Fiddlesticks’ life flashed before her eyes.

She had hallucinogenic visions of organic pumpkin seeds and broccoli, stuffing it into her face and nibbling as she lay on her back just half-arsing it through each and every day. “Gosh, those were the days!” she thought, “Why did I ever bother with this adventuring stuff, anyway?” But then she remembered it was to annoy her father, Murray, who thought female hamsters belonged in the burrows delivering food to the male hamster workers. Why that anachronistic old fool and his ruddy anachronisms and his…

Fiddlesticks was aware there was still no explosion.

She stopped burrowing and clambered out of the small hole she’d created. She looked over at Dave the Demon and he was munching merrily on a cookie, with the others standing around also munching on cookies from the packet. Dave was really getting into it and masses of crumbs were dropping onto the ground around him as he snarfed it all down.

Fiddlesticks: … what!?

The Sausagehog Monster: They are excellent cookies.

Fiddlesticks: Can I have one?!

The Sausagehog Monster: Yes, you may!

And, thus, that afternoon did Fiddlesticks the Destroyer and her troop dine on most excellent quality cookies from John the friendly Sausagehog Monster. He stood and beamed merrily as they ate, delighted in his magnanimous might.

After they’d finished eating, Raving Looney then whacked The Sausagehog Monster around the head with his club. The monster went down in a heap and began snoring in an unconscious mess, leaving Dave the Demon to swipe the snoozing beast’s wallet. Before Fiddlesticks had any chance to remonstrate with them, her troop began legging it into woods and, lo, they did well and truly scarper it one.

Fiddlesticks: Stop running! For the love of gerbils, you’ve just eaten! You’ll all get indigestion again!

But they were gone. She looked down at The Sausagehog Monster, who was already starting to come to, apologised, and scurried off after the others. “Oh well,” she thought to herself, “At least we’ve had free lunch!” And she chattered in laughter to herself, despite the immediate pang of indigestion rearing itself in her gut.