by Adam Clark
* This joke will inevitably become very irrelevant rather quickly as the ‘greatest’ artist of 2011 fades into obscurity. If you’re reading this past the year 2020 look up ‘Justin Bieber’ on Wikipedia. While we’re on the subject of the future (or past), high five for Hover Boards future people! If you don’t have a Hover Board or Self-tying Sneakers or Jet-Packs yet, then I offer my condolences and apologies for my generation being lazy. Also, if you’re in some kind of Waterworld scenario where everywhere is flooded and everyone is like, riding on boats and fighting over plants and stuff while Kevin Costner is all like ‘I have gills and mad fighting skills’. Then I also apologise, although that’s totally not my fault, I ride a bicycle occasionally and bought a long-life bag once.
“Woah, hold up” Indy said defensively. “The young lad definitely has talent at the very least, and although his music is technically simple; it’s what creates the money that propels the music industry along based upon mass consumption defined by the predilection of the majority of consumers. It’s possible the child has become an affliction of his own success, where any new musical movement he decides to take becomes too financially risky and as such he is forced into the ‘safe’ zone by his management, and as such pumps out masses of mediocre sounds for their highest profit margins.” Harvey retorted smartly, creating a well-defined argument the likes of which the barbarians rarely heard.
“Well, I guess that makes sense. Still doesn’t mean I can’t dislike him for acting like a douchebag all the time.” Leo replied.
“I concur with that point, he is a complete asshat.” Harvey wished he could have a glass of wine to swill at that point, it would’ve made him champion of all noncey talking people. Eragor didn’t actually know who Justin Beaver was, so decided to move the conversation on to something he could join in with.
“Alright, I give up, why are you here?”
“We’re on an epic quest to defeat the Lord Volkang, he has the Dragon Heart, and we need all the other pieces of awesome to defeat him.”
“Aha, you need the flaming bike eh? Well I can’t just hand it over you know. It’s my most prized possession.” He eyed them all carefully, “to be honest, I don’t think any of you could handle it anyway.”
“Please, is there any way we could maybe borrow it for a few days, we promise we’ll only partake in the greatest and most epic battle ever undertaken. No skids, scout’s honour” Magnus said, hand over his heart. The bear struck his thinking pose again.
“Ok, I’ll consider it, let me peruse it while we finish this meal.” Pierre looked even more sulky now.
“You’re even considering it? Oh my god, you’re so stupid, I’m going to go to my room and listen to Radiohead, don’t bother me.” The bear got up from the table, shot a dirty glance at the other members of the ‘sitting at the table’ club and stropped off into the forest.
“I apologise for Pierre, he is getting to that age, you know how it is. One minute we’re at Disneyland, eating ice cream and smiling for pictures, next minute he’s all ‘grown up’ and being a douchebag.”
At that moment the muffled sounds of Radiohead floated into the clearing from the area of forest where Pierre had slunk to. The group ate gratefully, it was one of the best meals they’d had in days. Their host ate pensively, breaking the silence now and then with idle chit chat. Once they had finished he stood and addressed them all.
“I have come to a decision about lending you the bike.” He said in a stately fashion. “I will only lend it to one of you whom proves himself worthy to ride such a beast.”
“Well we can already ride motorbikes, I even have an advanced riding licence, so what do you mean by worthy?” Magnus asked.
“A true motorbike rider would be able to jump the,” he paused for effect, and then continued in a booming voice, “Chasm of Doom.” Lightning struck from the now darkened navy night sky.
“What exactly is the Chasm of Doom?” Leo asked, dabbing at his face with a napkin.
“It’s basically this really big hole in the ground, filled with nuclear snakes and land sharks,” Eragor explained.
“Sounds completely impractical, can’t we just leave you a deposit?” Ginge said, frustrated at how everything they did was always epic or crazy.
“No way, I won’t just lend my bike out to any old chump, you need to impress me so I know that it’ll be in safe hands.”
“Ok, as the leader of the group, I’ll do it.” Magnus said heroically, “although I may die in the process, this is obviously the only way.”
“Seriously? You’re not even going to try and persuade him more to not do such a stupid feat? This bear is obviously nice and reasonable, I’m certain if we were really polite we could work something out.” The bear nodded at this.
“No, this is the only way” Magnus said, his chest puffed out in his most heroic pose. “We must be off so I can prepare for tomorrow.” Magnus thanked his host, and rushed off to the motorbikes left on the edge of the clearing. The rest of the group followed, Ginge was the last one to thank their host.
“Thanks for the meal, but you weren’t being serious about the jump were you?” she asked him.
“Not really, I didn’t think any of you would actually go along with it, but that Magnus guy seems pretty determined to do it now.” The great Bear said.
“Yeah, any opportunity to show off. But now he’s got it in his head that it’s happening, there’s nothing we can do to stop him.”
“Don’t worry young human, I have a plan.” He raised a great paw and tapped his nose twice “I’d feel quite bad if he died anyway.”
“Ok, well it had better be a good one. See you tomorrow.” Ginge waved goodbye, got on one of the motorbikes and sped away into the forest.
Eragor watched her go before picking up a conveniently placed nearby shovel and shouting to his son. “Pierre, get over here, we’ve got work to do!”