Prince Wollastoni, the Big, Fat Pika
Prince Wollastoni, The Big, Fat Pika
October 2006
Once upon a time there was a great big, fat pika who lived in a cave high on a rocky mountain. The big, fat pika, whose name was Prince Wollastoni, ruled over a colony of other pikas, all of whom were athletic and fit. Pikas had to be athletic and fit because of the high mountains on which they lived. A great deal of clambering up and down over difficult terrain was part of their daily existence, as was the frequent act of eluding predators, many of which would spring surprise attacks on the colony. A fit and athletic pika stood a much better chance of escape than one who neglected his exercise.
Prince Wollastoni, however, was big and fat because he never did anything for himself. He made all the other pikas do his bidding, including bringing him food. And he never exercised or moved far from his cave. "Too strenuous," he would say. "It's much easier to sit in the warm sun and have my subjects do everything for me." He even employed two pikas to stay beside him on a continual basis, unless they were bidden to go and fetch him something. Otherwise, their duties were few and consisted mostly of taking him to safety when danger threatened. The only time Prince Wollastoni ever exerted himself was on rare occasions when one of his subjects refused to do as he asked. When this occurred, Prince Wollastoni's attendants would hold the disobedient subject face down in the dirt while the massive Prince heaved his giant bulk into an upright position. He would then sit down again, this time on top of the immobile pika. A few seconds later and the now breathless and flattened pika would reconfirm his obeisance to Prince Wollastoni for all time. Thus, most pikas had long given up any objections they may have had when it came to serving their Prince.
One day, as the pikas were preparing their midday meal of grasses and flowers, a hungry falcon swooped down on them, looking for lunch of his own. His long, sharp talons extended, the falcon was nearly successful in making off with an inattentive pika, but at the last instant he spied a much bigger, fatter and jucier pika than the one he had been aiming for. And because he was a greedy falcon who was rarely happy with a sure thing when the possibility of a greater prize was in the offing, he broke off his attack and wheeled away into the sky. His interest now lay in the capture of the bigger, fatter pika and in nothing else.
The falcon climbed up into the glare of the sun and circled there while planning the strategies of his new attack. From experience, he knew that racing down at high speed with the sun behind him made it extremely difficult, if not impossible, for his intended victim to see him coming. And from his vantage point high above, he could see that the big, fat pika had not noticed him at all, even during his first attack. In fact, the big, fat pika simply lay there in the sun giving peremptory orders to two other pikas who appeared to be tending to him. Shortly afterwards, the two pikas trotted off down the slope leaving the target unattended. "All the better!" chuckled the falcon to himself. "All the better!"
Indeed, Prince Wollastoni and his attendants had not seen the falcon, nor had they seen the aborted attack the falcon had made on the colony a few minutes before. The Prince's cave was high above those of his subjects, a fact which gave him airs of superiority, but also had a distinct disadvantage in that sounds emanating from below could not be heard high up in the lofty lair. The pikas below had witnessed the original attack of the falcon and had fled for safety, squealing a cry of alarm as they did, an alarm which did not reach the ears of Prince Wollastoni. He was ignorant to the imminent danger of the falcon's presence and because of this he had sent his two attendants below to appropriate lunch from his subjects.
While his attendants trotted off in search of food, Prince Wollastoni stuffed his fat, foul face full of marigolds and grass, a few bunches of which had been left over from breakfast that morning. The hot midday sun beat down on the fat Prince as he chewed, blissfully drooling onto his fur, his eyes closed and his entire being filled with contentment. Meanwhile, the falcon commenced his attack and with wings folded close against his body, he hurtled toward the giant, hoglike pika at high speed. Having reached terminal velocity and with talons extended in preparation for the upcoming impact, the drooling pika loomed large in the falcon's vision. He fanned his wings only at the last moment in order to slow himself slightly and to make sure he was on target.
Despite the close proximity of the falcon, Prince Wollastoni was still unaware of his impending doom. Instead, however, he became aware of an impending case of severe indigestion accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of nausea. Brought on by the heat of the day and the fact he had only had a short nap between stuffing himself with food since breakfast and now, Prince Wollastoni was suddenly very sick indeed. He clutched at his enormous belly with his oversized paws and groaned loudly. The groan developed immediately into a cry of deep and painful anguish and just at the moment when the falcon would have sunk his talons into the Prince's bulk and begun to make off with him, the huge piglike pika regurgitated an enormous greenish-gold stream of projectile vomit. This foul-smelling, disgusting mess covered both the Prince and the unfortunate falcon from head to toe.
Screeching in surprise and terror, the falcon only just managed to avoid an uncontrolled collision with his target and with great difficulty he managed to retreat slowly into the sky, trailing a stream of vomit after him. Only now did Prince Wollastoni become aware of the falcon and the danger it had posed to his august person. Belatedly he sounded a shout of alarm, a shout which sounded more like a severe indigestive gurgle than anything else and which was accompanied by more green and gold vomit.
Somehow Prince Wollastoni managed to get to his feet, still sounding an alarm. He staggered toward the trail which led down to the colony of pikas below and in his haste and debilitated physical condition he tripped over a stone and fell. Like a giant bowling ball, he began to roll down the slope, screaming in fright and gathering speed as he went. His increasing momentum caused the vomit to fly from his fur and spatter rocks and trees as he passed. A number of pikas had gathered outside a cave where they had been hiding from the falcon and now they stared in horror as a huge, fat green and gold object hurtled toward them at high speed. Only at the last moment did the pikas recognize their Prince as the object in question, but by this time it was too late for the group to move out of the way. Prince Wollastoni struck the group fair and square in the middle, tossing the pikas this way and that before continuing on his way. The sounds of screaming and the crashing of undergrowth eventually dissipated as the distance between the Prince and the pikas grew. The last sound the pikas heard was a loud splash, indicating the fat Prince had reached the end of his wayward travels. He had plunged off the precipice that marked the furthermost boundary of the pikas' territory and into the river below. Barely conscious despite the water around him, Prince Wollastoni floated away downstream like some enormous beach ball and it was some three months before the pikas saw him again. But that's another story.
The End
October 2006
Once upon a time there was a great big, fat pika who lived in a cave high on a rocky mountain. The big, fat pika, whose name was Prince Wollastoni, ruled over a colony of other pikas, all of whom were athletic and fit. Pikas had to be athletic and fit because of the high mountains on which they lived. A great deal of clambering up and down over difficult terrain was part of their daily existence, as was the frequent act of eluding predators, many of which would spring surprise attacks on the colony. A fit and athletic pika stood a much better chance of escape than one who neglected his exercise.
Prince Wollastoni, however, was big and fat because he never did anything for himself. He made all the other pikas do his bidding, including bringing him food. And he never exercised or moved far from his cave. "Too strenuous," he would say. "It's much easier to sit in the warm sun and have my subjects do everything for me." He even employed two pikas to stay beside him on a continual basis, unless they were bidden to go and fetch him something. Otherwise, their duties were few and consisted mostly of taking him to safety when danger threatened. The only time Prince Wollastoni ever exerted himself was on rare occasions when one of his subjects refused to do as he asked. When this occurred, Prince Wollastoni's attendants would hold the disobedient subject face down in the dirt while the massive Prince heaved his giant bulk into an upright position. He would then sit down again, this time on top of the immobile pika. A few seconds later and the now breathless and flattened pika would reconfirm his obeisance to Prince Wollastoni for all time. Thus, most pikas had long given up any objections they may have had when it came to serving their Prince.
One day, as the pikas were preparing their midday meal of grasses and flowers, a hungry falcon swooped down on them, looking for lunch of his own. His long, sharp talons extended, the falcon was nearly successful in making off with an inattentive pika, but at the last instant he spied a much bigger, fatter and jucier pika than the one he had been aiming for. And because he was a greedy falcon who was rarely happy with a sure thing when the possibility of a greater prize was in the offing, he broke off his attack and wheeled away into the sky. His interest now lay in the capture of the bigger, fatter pika and in nothing else.
The falcon climbed up into the glare of the sun and circled there while planning the strategies of his new attack. From experience, he knew that racing down at high speed with the sun behind him made it extremely difficult, if not impossible, for his intended victim to see him coming. And from his vantage point high above, he could see that the big, fat pika had not noticed him at all, even during his first attack. In fact, the big, fat pika simply lay there in the sun giving peremptory orders to two other pikas who appeared to be tending to him. Shortly afterwards, the two pikas trotted off down the slope leaving the target unattended. "All the better!" chuckled the falcon to himself. "All the better!"
Indeed, Prince Wollastoni and his attendants had not seen the falcon, nor had they seen the aborted attack the falcon had made on the colony a few minutes before. The Prince's cave was high above those of his subjects, a fact which gave him airs of superiority, but also had a distinct disadvantage in that sounds emanating from below could not be heard high up in the lofty lair. The pikas below had witnessed the original attack of the falcon and had fled for safety, squealing a cry of alarm as they did, an alarm which did not reach the ears of Prince Wollastoni. He was ignorant to the imminent danger of the falcon's presence and because of this he had sent his two attendants below to appropriate lunch from his subjects.
While his attendants trotted off in search of food, Prince Wollastoni stuffed his fat, foul face full of marigolds and grass, a few bunches of which had been left over from breakfast that morning. The hot midday sun beat down on the fat Prince as he chewed, blissfully drooling onto his fur, his eyes closed and his entire being filled with contentment. Meanwhile, the falcon commenced his attack and with wings folded close against his body, he hurtled toward the giant, hoglike pika at high speed. Having reached terminal velocity and with talons extended in preparation for the upcoming impact, the drooling pika loomed large in the falcon's vision. He fanned his wings only at the last moment in order to slow himself slightly and to make sure he was on target.
Despite the close proximity of the falcon, Prince Wollastoni was still unaware of his impending doom. Instead, however, he became aware of an impending case of severe indigestion accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of nausea. Brought on by the heat of the day and the fact he had only had a short nap between stuffing himself with food since breakfast and now, Prince Wollastoni was suddenly very sick indeed. He clutched at his enormous belly with his oversized paws and groaned loudly. The groan developed immediately into a cry of deep and painful anguish and just at the moment when the falcon would have sunk his talons into the Prince's bulk and begun to make off with him, the huge piglike pika regurgitated an enormous greenish-gold stream of projectile vomit. This foul-smelling, disgusting mess covered both the Prince and the unfortunate falcon from head to toe.
Screeching in surprise and terror, the falcon only just managed to avoid an uncontrolled collision with his target and with great difficulty he managed to retreat slowly into the sky, trailing a stream of vomit after him. Only now did Prince Wollastoni become aware of the falcon and the danger it had posed to his august person. Belatedly he sounded a shout of alarm, a shout which sounded more like a severe indigestive gurgle than anything else and which was accompanied by more green and gold vomit.
Somehow Prince Wollastoni managed to get to his feet, still sounding an alarm. He staggered toward the trail which led down to the colony of pikas below and in his haste and debilitated physical condition he tripped over a stone and fell. Like a giant bowling ball, he began to roll down the slope, screaming in fright and gathering speed as he went. His increasing momentum caused the vomit to fly from his fur and spatter rocks and trees as he passed. A number of pikas had gathered outside a cave where they had been hiding from the falcon and now they stared in horror as a huge, fat green and gold object hurtled toward them at high speed. Only at the last moment did the pikas recognize their Prince as the object in question, but by this time it was too late for the group to move out of the way. Prince Wollastoni struck the group fair and square in the middle, tossing the pikas this way and that before continuing on his way. The sounds of screaming and the crashing of undergrowth eventually dissipated as the distance between the Prince and the pikas grew. The last sound the pikas heard was a loud splash, indicating the fat Prince had reached the end of his wayward travels. He had plunged off the precipice that marked the furthermost boundary of the pikas' territory and into the river below. Barely conscious despite the water around him, Prince Wollastoni floated away downstream like some enormous beach ball and it was some three months before the pikas saw him again. But that's another story.
The End
posted by alex malcolm at 5:14 PM
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