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01:08:08.20994+01","create_datetime_usertime":"18 Feb 2013 01:08 CET","thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/474/474912_Samkin_smknfx.story.sandraquest.000.jpg","thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/474/474912_Samkin_smknfx.story.sandraquest.000.jpg","thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/474/474912_Samkin_smknfx.story.sandraquest.000.jpg","thumb_huge_x":"200","thumb_huge_y":"200","thumb_large_x":"200","thumb_large_y":"200","thumb_medium_x":"120","thumb_medium_y":"120"}],"pools":[{"pool_id":"15208","name":"Sandra's Stories!","description":"Epic stories written by Sandra!","count":"2","submission_right_submission_id":"500918","submission_right_file_name":"652027_Samkin_smknfx.story.afoxyhalloween.000.doc","submission_right_thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/652/652027_Samkin_smknfx.story.afoxyhalloween.000.jpg","submission_right_thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/652/652027_Samkin_smknfx.story.afoxyhalloween.000.jpg","submission_right_thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/652/652027_Samkin_smknfx.story.afoxyhalloween.000.jpg","submission_right_thumb_huge_x":"200","submission_right_thumb_huge_y":"200","submission_right_thumb_large_x":"200","submission_right_thumb_large_y":"200","submission_right_thumb_medium_x":"120","submission_right_thumb_medium_y":"120"}],"description":"Sandra wrote a story and wanted me to upload it to our page for her~! Hope you guys like it!\n\n[color=#ce5c00]You guys better like it, I worked really hard on this! >=|[/color]\n\nRight, well... >_>\n\nHere's the description!\n\n[i]Sandra hosts a tea party after school for a visiting dignitary from the land of Briny Biscuit, but there are dark clouds looming on the horizon... Can Sandra rally her friends and lead her people to victory, or will the peaceful land of Plushtopia fall into the evil clutches of the Green Witch and her vile minions?[/i]","description_bbcode_parsed":"Sandra wrote a story and wanted me to upload it to our page for her~! Hope you guys like it!

You guys better like it, I worked really hard on this! >=|

Right, well... >_>

Here's the description!

Sandra hosts a tea party after school for a visiting dignitary from the land of Briny Biscuit, but there are dark clouds looming on the horizon... Can Sandra rally her friends and lead her people to victory, or will the peaceful land of Plushtopia fall into the evil clutches of the Green Witch and her vile minions?","writing":"[center][color=#ef2929]The following story is completely true.[/color]\n\nI am the radiant light that pierces the stifling, infinite darkness.\nMine is the fist that brings justice to those who would do harm to the innocent.\nI am all that stands between our world and the gibbering horrors from the depths of dimensions wreathed in despair and madness.\nI fight so you don't have to.\nShould I fall, all is lost.\nMy name is Sandra.\nThis is my story.[/center]\n\n It seems so long ago that the events of this story took place. So long now, that many of the details have long since faded from memory. How innocent I was back then. How blind I was to the truth that lurks in every closet, beneath every bed, under every rock, and even, sometimes, deep inside each of us.\n\n It was last Thursday. School was out. I’d dropped my book bag inside the front door of our house and rushed to my room for an appointment I couldn’t afford to miss. I was hosting a tea party for a visiting dignitary from the distant land of Briny Biscuit, and it wouldn’t do to keep my esteemed guest waiting.\n\n I arrived to find my guests already seated, but only just. Good, I thought to myself, I hate being late. The idle conversation stopped as I made my way to my spot at the head of the table and took my seat, pouring myself a steaming cup of chamomile tea.\n\n “Forgive me, friends,” I said, addressing my guests. “Mrs. Nelson kept us past the last bell to tell all the girls in my class that boys are all the same and they’ll all grow up and cheat on their wives just like her stupid husband, and we’re better off without them. Then she started burning pictures of Mr. Nelson until the police came and took her away in handcuffs.” My greeting caused a murmur of disapproval from my party guests. Some even proclaimed aloud their shock at Mrs. Nelson’s distasteful behavior.\n\n “[i]Gods![/i]” exclaimed Professor Prickles the porcupine. He slapped his paw down on the table to punctuate his disgust, rattling his quills and our tea cups with his outburst and nearly losing his monocle. “Dreadful behavior!” the professor said, indignant. “Such a disturbed individual should never be allowed near impressionable young furs. She should be removed from her position forthwith!”\n\n “Absolutely,” agreed Baroness Tunalips Flopfin III, the world’s ugliest baroness, in her usual gurgling voice. The strain of being out of the water made her gills expand and contract frantically, and her quivering blue scales glistened grossly. She smelled of stagnant pond water. “Mrs. Nelson should resign [i]immediately[/i]!”\n\n “Scandalous, absolutely scandalous!” shrilled Miss Featherbottom, getting a bit carried away and spilling her tea. “Goodness, excuse me, I seem to have lost my cool!” she said apologetically and began dabbing her spilled tea with a fancy napkin.\n\n “Friends…” I picked up my spoon and began to tap my tea cup to get my guests’ attention. “Friends, [i]please[/i],” I said more loudly, tapping my cup harder, “we’ve business to attend to!” It was to no avail. My guests were feeding off of each other’s indignation and becoming more and more indignant by the moment, like some sort of perpetual disapprobation engine.\n\n Finally Socrates, my dearest friend and advisor, had had enough nonsense. He pounded his tentacles on the table so hard that all the tea cups leapt three inches. He didn’t spill a drop of tea, though. Socrates may be a no-nonsense cephalopod, but he’s not a barbarian! “[i]Settle down[/i]!” he boomed. “Our Dark Lord Sandra wishes to speak of business!”\n\n[q]Wait… Dark Lord Sandra? Since when are you a dark lord? And anyway, I thought you were supposed to be the good guy in this story. A dark lord doesn’t sound like a good guy…\n\n[color=#ce5c00]I can be a dark lord and a good guy if I want to! I’m telling this story. If you don’t like it then go tell your own story, Samkin![/color]\n\nBut—\n\n[color=#ce5c00]Shoosh! My story![/color]\n\nOkay, okay…\n\n[color=#ce5c00]Now where was I…?[/color][/q]\n\n “Settle down, all of you!” boomed Socrates. “Our beloved Lady Sandra, Ruler of all Plushtopia and defender of the realm, wishes to speak!”\n\n The guests became silent then, save for the labored wheezing of the loathsome Baroness Tunalips Flopfin III. Professor Prickles picked up a glass of water kept nearby for exactly that situation and threw it in the Baroness’ face. She gurgled grossly.\n\n “Thank you for that, professor.” The Baroness said. “I was becoming a bit parched. Dry land… You know how it is.”\n\n The professor nodded. “Of course, Baroness, we understand.”\n\n “Forgive me, Lady Sandra,” said the Baroness, suddenly self-conscious about having caused such an interruption with her detestable weakness. “Please continue.”\n\n “Thank you, friends,” I said, now that Socrates had restored order. I raised my tea cup to my lips to drink, my gaze fixed on the visiting dignitary, but I did not take a sip. He stared back at me, nervous, and I put the cup back down without drinking. “There is business to attend to—the business of our trade agreement with the good plushes of Briny Biscuit. As you all know, the land of Briny Biscuit is rich with natural maple syrup deposits. I have heard stories of maple syrup geysers shooting thirty feet into the air!”\n\n “Truly the plushes of Briny Biscuit are blessed,” said Professor Prickles.\n\n “Truly,” agreed Miss Featherbottom.\n\n “Yes, truly,” I said, “but there can be no peaceful trade agreement.” I pushed back my chair and stood, pointing an accusing finger at the visiting dignitary. My guests exchanged confused glances amongst themselves. The dignitary began to sweat. “I have been informed that Governor Sealy was not sent here to conduct any peaceful negotiations with us,” I said. “No, quite the contrary, he has been sent to assassinate me!”\n\n Gasps sprung up from all around the table, and Governor Sealy stood abruptly. “Nonsense!” he barked. “What is this nonsense? How [i]dare[/i] you insult me so! What proof do you have for your incredible accusations, [i]fox[/i]?” he blustered. I could see fear in his beady black eyes.\n\n “The proof is in the tea cup, Governor!” I shouted, balling my paw into a fist. “I know that you poisoned my chamomile tea!”\n\n Governor Sealy gaped in disbelief. “Impossible! How did you know? You couldn’t possibly have seen me do it!”\n\n “You’re right, Governor, I didn’t know.” I smiled then, a triumphant, fangy smile. “You just told me.”\n\n If Governor Sealy hadn’t already been a cute, white little baby seal, the color would have drained completely out of him just then. Since he was already white as fresh-fallen snow, though, he just stayed the same color. All around, my guests were shrieking and squawking about poisoned tea. \n\n “[i]Fools[/i],” the Governor spat in his deep, booming voice, “quit your piteous wailing! The poison wasn’t meant for any of [i]you[/i], only the Lady Sandra. [i]She[/i] has to die before we can begin our attack on Plushtopia, and she [i]will[/i], too.” He could barely restrain a malevolent laugh as he [i]flew[/i] from his spot at the end of the table, gliding over it and scattering tea cups and cookies in his wake. “[i]I’ll see to that[/i]!” he shrieked, like an adorable little fuzzy banshee.\n\n Time seemed to slow down in the heat of things. All around my guests were spilling tea and flailing about so that fur and feathers flew in every direction. Their shrill cries of terror and dismay became the theme song of a tea party gone terribly wrong. Before me, with startling speed, the baby seal assassin who called himself Governor Sealy of Briny Biscuit was tearing his way across the table. He’d be on me in the blink of an eye, and from the look of his needle-like teeth bared and glistening in the light of my ceiling fan I could tell he wanted my blood. I could see my reflection in the Governor’s little eyes, eyes as black as polished coals and filled with hate, and I knew my loyal guards would never reach us in time to prevent the Governor’s attack. I had only the tiniest fraction of a second to act.\n\n I put all of my strength into it, paws gripping the table so tightly that my claws left grooves in the wood. The look of shock on the Governor’s face when his world began to turn upside down was priceless. The table flip was a sight to behold. Guests dove away in all directions, tea cups sailed through the air, trailing their contents like glistening crystal ribbons, cookies exploded toward the Governor like crumbly confetti, and my would-be assassin’s startled cry was cut off by the weight of the table landing on top of him.\n\n The guests were silent then, awestruck. My wrath had been magnificent, and for once, they had all been left speechless. My guards were on the Governor in an instant, dragging him out from under the table spitting blood and screeching insults.\n\n “What shall we do with the assassin, Your Grace?”\n\n[q]Hold on, “Your Grace?” Are you a queen or a dark lord?\n\n[color=#ce5c00]I’m both, duh! Dark Lord Sandra, queen of Plushtopia, defender of the realm and bane of assassins.[/color]\n\nBane of assassins?\n\n[color=#ce5c00]I earned it! Look what happened to the Governor![/color]\n\nOkay, I guess that’s true…\n\n[color=#ce5c00]That’s right it is, now let me finish my story, Samkin![/color]\n\nGo on…[/q]\n\n “What shall we do with the assassin, Dark Lady?” inquired the captain of my guard, a candy pink dolphin with radiant blue eyes, whose soft plush exterior concealed a heart as cold and hard as a lump of granite.\n\n “Send him back to Briny Biscuit,” I said disdainfully. “There will be war over this treachery, and the Governor will suffice for conveying the message.”\n\n Sealy spat, fixing me with a venomous glare. “You Plushtopians are soft as baby bunnies. Don’t think this is over, [i]fox[/i]. I’ll be back. Oh yes I will, and the next time I won’t fail to kill you. Let’s have it, then. Tell me your message, O Dark Lady.” His tone was mocking. “We could all benefit from a good laugh while we’re marching on your borders.”\n\n “Why Governor,” I purred, “I never said anything about you [i]relaying[/i] the message for me. I intend for you to [i]be[/i] the message.”\n\n That startled him. “You don’t have the guts!” the Governor sputtered in disbelief. “You wouldn’t [i]dare[/i] harm me. Everyone knows how harmless the Plushtopians are!”\n\n “But Governor,” I said, “I’m not made of felt and thread and stuffing. I’m no trueborn Plushtopian—I’m a fox.” I could tell he hadn’t noticed until just then. I had no seams, nor threads. The Governor had made a fatal mistake. “Captain, send the plushes of Briny Biscuit their Governor back in a nicely giftwrapped box, along with a declaration of war.”\n\n The Captain of the Guard fixed his steely gaze on the Governor. “Shall we use the club, Dark Lady?”\n\n “We’re not barbarians, Captain,” I replied. “No, I think a case of the cooties will get the job done, and perhaps it will take a few of the cur’s fellow conspirators down to hell with him. Take him away, Captain.”\n\n “[i]Cooties[/i]!” Governor Sealy wailed. “You [i]can’t[/i]! Mercy! [i]Mercy[/i], Dark Lady! [i]Tell them to use the club[/i]! Anything but [i]coooootiiiieeeeeeeees[/i]!”\n\n But the Governor’s pleading fell on deaf ears, and my guards dragged him away to his doom kicking and screaming. Such is the fate of all who oppose Lady Sandra, Dark Lord and Ruler of all Plushtopia, defender of the realm, bane of assassins, and champion of the meek and mild!\n\n[q]Harsh, Sandra… Cooties?\n\n[color=#ce5c00]That’s what he gets for trying to assassinate me![/color]\n\nRemind me to never get on your bad side…\n\n[color=#ce5c00]Hmph! See that you don’t![/color][/q]\n\n By the time Governor Sealy’s wailing had faded to imperceptibility my guests had begun to come to their senses, though some still had distant, confused looks on their faces, like children stranded on a busy street corner in an unfamiliar city. Socrates slithered up next to me, draping a tentacle over my shoulder. “It’s to be war, then?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.\n\n I nodded. The plushes of Briny Biscuit had left me no choice with their assassination attempt. If I did not respond swiftly and severely, it would send a message to the neighboring lands that the denizens of Plushtopia are as weak and helpless as the rumors claim. As their queen and protector, I could scarcely stand idle and allow such threats to be made toward my subjects.\n\n “Dark Lady,” a voice called out to me from my bedroom door, interrupting my train of thought. It was Franklin, my magnificent winged unicorn stallion. Franklin was a creature of beauty without equal, standing six feet tall at the shoulder and rippling with muscle under a taut pelt of short fur of the same pale shade of pink as a cherry blossom. He tossed his head back and let loose a mighty whinny that rang out like the pealing of silver church bells, and the motion set his beautiful mane and tail flowing like hungry flames rising off of the burial pyre of a legendary warrior. It was breathtaking. Socrates shed a tear at the beauty of my steed.\n\n I had to ride him, to feel the raw power of him beneath me as we rode off into the sunset—\n\n[q]Sandra, aren’t you getting a little bit off track here?\n\n[color=#ce5c00]W-What? I…no! Shut up![/color][/q]\n\n “Dark Lady,” said Franklin, “the plushes of Briny Biscuit weren’t acting alone. I bring dark news.” He looked at me with those deep violet eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t like what I was about to hear. “Your sister, the fair Princess Samkin the Swift Fox, they’ve—“\n\n[q]Princess? What do you mean, princess?\n\n[color=#ce5c00]Samkin, damsels in distress have to be princesses. It’s a rule, go look it up.[/color]\n\nI’m not a princess! And why do I have to be the damsel in distress? Can’t Amanda be the one that needs rescuing?\n\n[color=#ce5c00]Sorry, Amanda’s part of my band of warriors. I need her to help rescue you.[/color]\n\nThis is stupid!\n\n[color=#ce5c00]Fine, fine! You can be the prince, but you still have to be rescued![/color]\n\nFine!\n\n[color=#ce5c00]Fine![/color]\n\nHmph!\n\n[color=#ce5c00]Right, prince Samkin.[/color][/q]\n\n “They’ve captured your brother, Prince Samkin the Swift Fox. It was the plushes of Tattered Sleeve, my lady. While you were distracted with the dignitary from Briny Biscuit, they raided his royal chambers and took him by surprise. I fought them off as well as I could, but the vile Green Witch spirited him away while I was occupied!” Franklin’s tone was grim. He knew as well as I the grudge the Green Witch held against my brother and me.\n\n “Miss Greeny…” I whispered, as though just speaking her name would conjure up the evil puppet. “I should have known she would return one day to exact her floppy vengeance upon us. She was dead, Franklin! We tried to save her, but the cooties… The cooties took hold and wouldn’t let her go no matter what we did.”\n\n “Aye,” said Socrates, “she was dead, and yet she clawed her way up out of box and dirt to walk the earth again. It’s an unholy demon inhabits her body now, brought up from the depths of hell by pure, unrestrained hatred.” Socrates sighed. “We should have burned her body, but it’s too late for that now. Hindsight makes everything more obvious.”\n\n “We have to get my brother back,” I said. “I cannot rest until he is returned to me safely. Socrates, my loyal friend, I must count on you to defend our borders against Briny Biscuit and Tattered Sleeve until I return. I will assemble what remains of my old band of adventurers. It’s time the Dapper Gentlemen had a reunion…”\n\n Socrates bowed low. “As you wish, my lady,” he said. “With your leave, I will rally the troops.”\n\n “Make it so, Socrates,” I said, vaulting up onto Franklin, who knelt down so I could reach him. “I know I can count on you.”\n\n Suddenly a great beast burst into the room, breathing fire and brimstone in her terrible rage. She surveyed the carnage left over from my encounter with the Governor for a moment before she opened her mouth to spit venom. “[i]Sandra Theresa Fox[/i], what on [i]earth[/i] have you done to your room?” she hissed. “You clean this mess up [i]this instant[/i], or you can just forget about going to the movies today!”\n\n [i]Mothers…[/i] My adventure would have to wait.\n\n","writing_bbcode_parsed":"
The following story is completely true.

I am the radiant light that pierces the stifling, infinite darkness.
Mine is the fist that brings justice to those who would do harm to the innocent.
I am all that stands between our world and the gibbering horrors from the depths of dimensions wreathed in despair and madness.
I fight so you don't have to.
Should I fall, all is lost.
My name is Sandra.
This is my story.


     It seems so long ago that the events of this story took place. So long now, that many of the details have long since faded from memory. How innocent I was back then. How blind I was to the truth that lurks in every closet, beneath every bed, under every rock, and even, sometimes, deep inside each of us.

     It was last Thursday. School was out. I’d dropped my book bag inside the front door of our house and rushed to my room for an appointment I couldn’t afford to miss. I was hosting a tea party for a visiting dignitary from the distant land of Briny Biscuit, and it wouldn’t do to keep my esteemed guest waiting.

     I arrived to find my guests already seated, but only just. Good, I thought to myself, I hate being late. The idle conversation stopped as I made my way to my spot at the head of the table and took my seat, pouring myself a steaming cup of chamomile tea.

     “Forgive me, friends,” I said, addressing my guests. “Mrs. Nelson kept us past the last bell to tell all the girls in my class that boys are all the same and they’ll all grow up and cheat on their wives just like her stupid husband, and we’re better off without them. Then she started burning pictures of Mr. Nelson until the police came and took her away in handcuffs.” My greeting caused a murmur of disapproval from my party guests. Some even proclaimed aloud their shock at Mrs. Nelson’s distasteful behavior.

     “Gods!” exclaimed Professor Prickles the porcupine. He slapped his paw down on the table to punctuate his disgust, rattling his quills and our tea cups with his outburst and nearly losing his monocle. “Dreadful behavior!” the professor said, indignant. “Such a disturbed individual should never be allowed near impressionable young furs. She should be removed from her position forthwith!”

     “Absolutely,” agreed Baroness Tunalips Flopfin III, the world’s ugliest baroness, in her usual gurgling voice. The strain of being out of the water made her gills expand and contract frantically, and her quivering blue scales glistened grossly. She smelled of stagnant pond water. “Mrs. Nelson should resign immediately!”

     “Scandalous, absolutely scandalous!” shrilled Miss Featherbottom, getting a bit carried away and spilling her tea. “Goodness, excuse me, I seem to have lost my cool!” she said apologetically and began dabbing her spilled tea with a fancy napkin.

     “Friends…” I picked up my spoon and began to tap my tea cup to get my guests’ attention. “Friends, please,” I said more loudly, tapping my cup harder, “we’ve business to attend to!” It was to no avail. My guests were feeding off of each other’s indignation and becoming more and more indignant by the moment, like some sort of perpetual disapprobation engine.

     Finally Socrates, my dearest friend and advisor, had had enough nonsense. He pounded his tentacles on the table so hard that all the tea cups leapt three inches. He didn’t spill a drop of tea, though. Socrates may be a no-nonsense cephalopod, but he’s not a barbarian! “Settle down!” he boomed. “Our Dark Lord Sandra wishes to speak of business!”

\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
"\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tWait… Dark Lord Sandra? Since when are you a dark lord? And anyway, I thought you were supposed to be the good guy in this story. A dark lord doesn’t sound like a good guy…

I can be a dark lord and a good guy if I want to! I’m telling this story. If you don’t like it then go tell your own story, Samkin!

But—

Shoosh! My story!

Okay, okay…

Now where was I…?\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t

     “Settle down, all of you!” boomed Socrates. “Our beloved Lady Sandra, Ruler of all Plushtopia and defender of the realm, wishes to speak!”

     The guests became silent then, save for the labored wheezing of the loathsome Baroness Tunalips Flopfin III. Professor Prickles picked up a glass of water kept nearby for exactly that situation and threw it in the Baroness’ face. She gurgled grossly.

     “Thank you for that, professor.” The Baroness said. “I was becoming a bit parched. Dry land… You know how it is.”

     The professor nodded. “Of course, Baroness, we understand.”

     “Forgive me, Lady Sandra,” said the Baroness, suddenly self-conscious about having caused such an interruption with her detestable weakness. “Please continue.”

     “Thank you, friends,” I said, now that Socrates had restored order. I raised my tea cup to my lips to drink, my gaze fixed on the visiting dignitary, but I did not take a sip. He stared back at me, nervous, and I put the cup back down without drinking. “There is business to attend to—the business of our trade agreement with the good plushes of Briny Biscuit. As you all know, the land of Briny Biscuit is rich with natural maple syrup deposits. I have heard stories of maple syrup geysers shooting thirty feet into the air!”

     “Truly the plushes of Briny Biscuit are blessed,” said Professor Prickles.

     “Truly,” agreed Miss Featherbottom.

     “Yes, truly,” I said, “but there can be no peaceful trade agreement.” I pushed back my chair and stood, pointing an accusing finger at the visiting dignitary. My guests exchanged confused glances amongst themselves. The dignitary began to sweat. “I have been informed that Governor Sealy was not sent here to conduct any peaceful negotiations with us,” I said. “No, quite the contrary, he has been sent to assassinate me!”

     Gasps sprung up from all around the table, and Governor Sealy stood abruptly. “Nonsense!” he barked. “What is this nonsense? How dare you insult me so! What proof do you have for your incredible accusations, fox?” he blustered. I could see fear in his beady black eyes.

     “The proof is in the tea cup, Governor!” I shouted, balling my paw into a fist. “I know that you poisoned my chamomile tea!”

     Governor Sealy gaped in disbelief. “Impossible! How did you know? You couldn’t possibly have seen me do it!”

     “You’re right, Governor, I didn’t know.” I smiled then, a triumphant, fangy smile. “You just told me.”

     If Governor Sealy hadn’t already been a cute, white little baby seal, the color would have drained completely out of him just then. Since he was already white as fresh-fallen snow, though, he just stayed the same color. All around, my guests were shrieking and squawking about poisoned tea.

     “Fools,” the Governor spat in his deep, booming voice, “quit your piteous wailing! The poison wasn’t meant for any of you, only the Lady Sandra. She has to die before we can begin our attack on Plushtopia, and she will, too.” He could barely restrain a malevolent laugh as he flew from his spot at the end of the table, gliding over it and scattering tea cups and cookies in his wake. “I’ll see to that!” he shrieked, like an adorable little fuzzy banshee.

     Time seemed to slow down in the heat of things. All around my guests were spilling tea and flailing about so that fur and feathers flew in every direction. Their shrill cries of terror and dismay became the theme song of a tea party gone terribly wrong. Before me, with startling speed, the baby seal assassin who called himself Governor Sealy of Briny Biscuit was tearing his way across the table. He’d be on me in the blink of an eye, and from the look of his needle-like teeth bared and glistening in the light of my ceiling fan I could tell he wanted my blood. I could see my reflection in the Governor’s little eyes, eyes as black as polished coals and filled with hate, and I knew my loyal guards would never reach us in time to prevent the Governor’s attack. I had only the tiniest fraction of a second to act.

     I put all of my strength into it, paws gripping the table so tightly that my claws left grooves in the wood. The look of shock on the Governor’s face when his world began to turn upside down was priceless. The table flip was a sight to behold. Guests dove away in all directions, tea cups sailed through the air, trailing their contents like glistening crystal ribbons, cookies exploded toward the Governor like crumbly confetti, and my would-be assassin’s startled cry was cut off by the weight of the table landing on top of him.

     The guests were silent then, awestruck. My wrath had been magnificent, and for once, they had all been left speechless. My guards were on the Governor in an instant, dragging him out from under the table spitting blood and screeching insults.

     “What shall we do with the assassin, Your Grace?”

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"\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tHold on, “Your Grace?” Are you a queen or a dark lord?

I’m both, duh! Dark Lord Sandra, queen of Plushtopia, defender of the realm and bane of assassins.

Bane of assassins?

I earned it! Look what happened to the Governor!

Okay, I guess that’s true…

That’s right it is, now let me finish my story, Samkin!

Go on…\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
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     “What shall we do with the assassin, Dark Lady?” inquired the captain of my guard, a candy pink dolphin with radiant blue eyes, whose soft plush exterior concealed a heart as cold and hard as a lump of granite.

     “Send him back to Briny Biscuit,” I said disdainfully. “There will be war over this treachery, and the Governor will suffice for conveying the message.”

     Sealy spat, fixing me with a venomous glare. “You Plushtopians are soft as baby bunnies. Don’t think this is over, fox. I’ll be back. Oh yes I will, and the next time I won’t fail to kill you. Let’s have it, then. Tell me your message, O Dark Lady.” His tone was mocking. “We could all benefit from a good laugh while we’re marching on your borders.”

     “Why Governor,” I purred, “I never said anything about you relaying the message for me. I intend for you to be the message.”

     That startled him. “You don’t have the guts!” the Governor sputtered in disbelief. “You wouldn’t dare harm me. Everyone knows how harmless the Plushtopians are!”

     “But Governor,” I said, “I’m not made of felt and thread and stuffing. I’m no trueborn Plushtopian—I’m a fox.” I could tell he hadn’t noticed until just then. I had no seams, nor threads. The Governor had made a fatal mistake. “Captain, send the plushes of Briny Biscuit their Governor back in a nicely giftwrapped box, along with a declaration of war.”

     The Captain of the Guard fixed his steely gaze on the Governor. “Shall we use the club, Dark Lady?”

     “We’re not barbarians, Captain,” I replied. “No, I think a case of the cooties will get the job done, and perhaps it will take a few of the cur’s fellow conspirators down to hell with him. Take him away, Captain.”

     “Cooties!” Governor Sealy wailed. “You can’t! Mercy! Mercy, Dark Lady! Tell them to use the club! Anything but coooootiiiieeeeeeeees!”

     But the Governor’s pleading fell on deaf ears, and my guards dragged him away to his doom kicking and screaming. Such is the fate of all who oppose Lady Sandra, Dark Lord and Ruler of all Plushtopia, defender of the realm, bane of assassins, and champion of the meek and mild!

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"\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tHarsh, Sandra… Cooties?

That’s what he gets for trying to assassinate me!

Remind me to never get on your bad side…

Hmph! See that you don’t!\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
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     By the time Governor Sealy’s wailing had faded to imperceptibility my guests had begun to come to their senses, though some still had distant, confused looks on their faces, like children stranded on a busy street corner in an unfamiliar city. Socrates slithered up next to me, draping a tentacle over my shoulder. “It’s to be war, then?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

     I nodded. The plushes of Briny Biscuit had left me no choice with their assassination attempt. If I did not respond swiftly and severely, it would send a message to the neighboring lands that the denizens of Plushtopia are as weak and helpless as the rumors claim. As their queen and protector, I could scarcely stand idle and allow such threats to be made toward my subjects.

     “Dark Lady,” a voice called out to me from my bedroom door, interrupting my train of thought. It was Franklin, my magnificent winged unicorn stallion. Franklin was a creature of beauty without equal, standing six feet tall at the shoulder and rippling with muscle under a taut pelt of short fur of the same pale shade of pink as a cherry blossom. He tossed his head back and let loose a mighty whinny that rang out like the pealing of silver church bells, and the motion set his beautiful mane and tail flowing like hungry flames rising off of the burial pyre of a legendary warrior. It was breathtaking. Socrates shed a tear at the beauty of my steed.

     I had to ride him, to feel the raw power of him beneath me as we rode off into the sunset—

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"\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tSandra, aren’t you getting a little bit off track here?

W-What? I…no! Shut up!\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
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     “Dark Lady,” said Franklin, “the plushes of Briny Biscuit weren’t acting alone. I bring dark news.” He looked at me with those deep violet eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t like what I was about to hear. “Your sister, the fair Princess Samkin the Swift Fox, they’ve—“

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"\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tPrincess? What do you mean, princess?

Samkin, damsels in distress have to be princesses. It’s a rule, go look it up.

I’m not a princess! And why do I have to be the damsel in distress? Can’t Amanda be the one that needs rescuing?

Sorry, Amanda’s part of my band of warriors. I need her to help rescue you.

This is stupid!

Fine, fine! You can be the prince, but you still have to be rescued!

Fine!

Fine!

Hmph!

Right, prince Samkin.\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
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     “They’ve captured your brother, Prince Samkin the Swift Fox. It was the plushes of Tattered Sleeve, my lady. While you were distracted with the dignitary from Briny Biscuit, they raided his royal chambers and took him by surprise. I fought them off as well as I could, but the vile Green Witch spirited him away while I was occupied!” Franklin’s tone was grim. He knew as well as I the grudge the Green Witch held against my brother and me.

     “Miss Greeny…” I whispered, as though just speaking her name would conjure up the evil puppet. “I should have known she would return one day to exact her floppy vengeance upon us. She was dead, Franklin! We tried to save her, but the cooties… The cooties took hold and wouldn’t let her go no matter what we did.”

     “Aye,” said Socrates, “she was dead, and yet she clawed her way up out of box and dirt to walk the earth again. It’s an unholy demon inhabits her body now, brought up from the depths of hell by pure, unrestrained hatred.” Socrates sighed. “We should have burned her body, but it’s too late for that now. Hindsight makes everything more obvious.”

     “We have to get my brother back,” I said. “I cannot rest until he is returned to me safely. Socrates, my loyal friend, I must count on you to defend our borders against Briny Biscuit and Tattered Sleeve until I return. I will assemble what remains of my old band of adventurers. It’s time the Dapper Gentlemen had a reunion…”

     Socrates bowed low. “As you wish, my lady,” he said. “With your leave, I will rally the troops.”

     “Make it so, Socrates,” I said, vaulting up onto Franklin, who knelt down so I could reach him. “I know I can count on you.”

     Suddenly a great beast burst into the room, breathing fire and brimstone in her terrible rage. She surveyed the carnage left over from my encounter with the Governor for a moment before she opened her mouth to spit venom. “Sandra Theresa Fox, what on earth have you done to your room?” she hissed. “You clean this mess up this instant, or you can just forget about going to the movies today!”

     Mothers… My adventure would have to wait.

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