Thursday, October 10, 2013

Mr. Chipmunk

Authors Note: This is a story that I wrote for my narrative piece.  Enjoy!

So then.  You want a story and I will tell you one.  Our story begins on a cool breezy day in the middle of a random prairie located somewhere on earth.  In that prairie there was a chipmunk.  This chipmunk wasn’t just any ordinary chipmunk though.  It was a special chipmunk.  Instead of the normal 10,000 hairs a chipmunk has, this one had 10,001.  Why this matters you might ask?  It doesn’t at all.  At least not to me.  But it did to him.  To Mr.Chipmunk that one hair was the most important thing in the world.  That hair allowed him to pretend that he was a prophet and get all of the other chipmunks to serve him.  Well one day he lost that precious hair…


On said cool breezy day Mr.Chipmunk got out of his bed and began to groom his precious hair -
because everyone knows chipmunks have to look nice.  Once he finished his grooming and other morningly tasks like brushing his two teeth Mr. Chipmunk decided that because it was such a nice day he would go to the thistle monument and enjoy the morning sun.  Upon his arrival at the monument two nice little chipmunks came and asked him for his pawprint.  Mr. Chipmunk of course agreed because, why wouldn’t he help out these two little admirers.  Sticking his hand in some pinesap Mr. Chipmunk carefully put his hand on two leaves and, after ensuring that both prints were identical he handed the leaves back to the kids.  Continuing on his way Mr.Chipmunk finally arrived at the monument.  While he was looking at the monument one of his very precious hairs got stuck on the monument.  “No,  not my hair!” exclaimed Mr. Chipmunk loudly.  No-one was around to hear him though and he had to figure out his problem by himself.


After spending a couple of hours shouting and trying to get any random passerbies attention Mr.Chipmunk deciding to just yank his hair out of the thorns and hope for the best.  After several countdowns and many failed attempts he managed to free his hair from its prickly prison.  What he didn’t realize was that one of his hairs was missing.  At least, not until later.

*      *      *


Years passed and Mr. Chipmunk grew plump and old, feeding off of others work while doing none of his own.  He still pretended to be a prophet and even prevented Chip War III.  Other than that nothing happened in his life until he was almost dead.


On his deathbed King Chip the II declared that he wanted Mr. Chipmunks hairs counted so that he could document his status as a prophet.  Acting on this order three chipmunks came forward and counted his hairs but all three of them came up one hair short of the 10,001 and declared him as a non-prophet.  Seconds after they declared that Mr. Chipmunk died a disgraced death.

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