"Beneath The Valley Of The Giants"
Proceeding down the candle lit corridor, we found ourselves passing by various chambers of food stuffs, rocks and pebbles, leaves and other things like that. Melissa informed us that they were storerooms used to maintain the ant colony. The chambers were big rooms excavated off to either side of the tunnel. They had high ceilings and no other visible entrance or exit.
“Warning!” announced Rob, “lifeform approaching from the rear.” Fortunately for us, his audio output levels were still turned down so the chances of the lifeform hearing him were minimal.
With nowhere to hide (having passed the last chamber), we quickly dug little trenches into the sides of the tunnel walls and embedded ourselves in as best we could. That is, except for Rob and Woba. They both ran—or rolled, as the case may be—very quickly back into the nearest chamber. Woba hungrily buried himself in pile of leaves and Rob activated his rockets, flying up toward the ceiling. He somehow managed to press himself horizontally into the soft dirt. He then dimmed his lighted panels so as not to be spotted by the approaching lifeform.
Staying absolutely still and silent, we watched as an “army ant” marched around the corner. He was goose-stepping and was carrying what looked like a little spear. He was just slightly taller that we were and was decked out in a little red uniform with gold buttons. He wore a little red cap and wore no shoes. He looked more like an armed doorman at a second-rate hotel than a military soldier.
Actually, I would say he more accurately looked like an armed “doorman-snowman.” His body was made up of three spheres connected by little sections of torso. The first sphere was the head, the second the chest, and the third was the abdomen. He had two arms sticking out of the sides of his chest sphere and two arms sticking out of the sides of his abdomen sphere. Finally, he had two legs at the bottom of his abdomen sphere.
As he came up toward our section in the passageway, he hesitated. I could swear I saw his little nostrils sniffing, but Melissa assured me later that it was probably my imagination. After he passed us by, we slowly came out of the soil and brushed the dirt off ourselves. Rob and Woba came out into the passage and rejoined us. Woba was munching on some leaves.
“That was close,” said Lisa, in hushed tones.
“Too close,” agreed Cindy.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” stated Melissa.
“Well,” I started, “we can’t go back out the way we came in. It’s too steep.”
“Rob, are there any other exits?” asked Lisa.
“BELCH!” burped Woba, very loudly.
“Shhhh!” I cautioned, slapping my hand over his mouth—but it was too late.
“Warning! A large group of....” started Rob.
We were suddenly overtaken by fifteen army ants; spears poised.
“Stay right where you are!” ordered the largest of the group.
He had gold tassels on his shoulders and looked to be in charge. I cautiously tried to reach for the Spell Book, but was stopped by the prod of a spear.
“Very good observation, Corporal,” the first one replied. He patted the ant we had seen before on the shoulder.
“There will be a commendation in this for you.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Glancing down, I noticed that the ants all had large belt buckles that appeared to be made of metal. I shouted to Rob.
“Energize positive magnetic field!”
Immediately there was a small hum and the two nearest ants, including the Lieutenant, were immediately pulled toward Rob’s outstretched pincers, thanks to the new ‘magnetic ray’ I had installed. Once attached, he held his arms up, pointing the ants toward the ceiling as they waved their six arms and legs. The others backed off a few feet.
“Spear them, you idiots!” yelled the now-horizontal Lieutenant.
“Forced negative magnetic field, Rob,” I stated.
Upon this, the two ants were repelled away from Rob’s pincers; forced into the soft soil ceiling as the two of them continued to struggle.
“Spear the meat-boy!” shouted the Lieutenant from his ceiling perch.
Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in the back of my leg. Falling to the ground I reached around to the back of my thigh and pulled the spear tip out. My hand was covered with blood. Luckily the spear hadn’t gone through my leg.
“Rob,” I started, in great pain, “de-magnetize.”
“Affirmative,” he stated.
As the humming noise stopped, he lowered his arms, leaving the two ants embedded overhead. For a few seconds the two ants continued to thrash their little arms. Then, they both became dislodged from the ceiling and fell onto the carpet. A few other ants rushed up to brush off the Lieutenant.
“We surrender,” said Melissa, putting her hands up. The others followed.
“I don’t,” said Woba kicking out with his hind legs. The two ants standing nearest him went flying back, tumbling down the corridor.
“Seize them,” calmly stated the Lieutenant. The others looked at me.
“We better do what they say,” I slowly nodded painfully.
We were now escorted down the passageway, one ant on each of our arms. Woba had his hind legs and front legs bound together with pieces of rope and he was carried on a spear by two ants. I was limping badly on my injured leg, so two ants lifted me slightly off the ground.
The passageway opened up into an enormous cavern. There were hundreds of houses, fashioned out of large mounds of mud. There were windows dug out of the houses and we could see bits of fabric resembling curtains, hanging in the windows. It was an ant colony! Not the flat, plastic “ant farms” we grew up with, but an actual town.
For light, there were numerous holes dug into the ceiling overhead that allowed the tri-colored sunlight to stream in from the surface. Strangely, under each beam of light, sat an ant who appeared to have an injury of some sort. They seemed sad and were usually missing two or more arms. We assumed that they were soldiers that had been wounded in battle.
There were quite a few ants wandering up and down the bustling streets. All of the ants wore little outfits: dresses, slacks, overalls, etc. Most of them stopped to let the guards pass by. As the gazed at us, they all seemed to have astonished looks on their faces. They had probably never seen such tiny humans before. One little boy threw a red-haired doll at us—presumably it was a Raggedy Anty doll.
We arrived at the farthest end of the cavern. The wall had been fashioned into what looked like the entrance to a palace. Two guards stood at attention by a plank of wood that was slightly embedded in the soft soil wall.
“Meat-people!” gasped one of the guards.
“Prisoners for the Queen,” stated the Lieutenant.
The guards nodded and rapped two of his little hands on the piece of wood. The wood plank came down toward the ground slowly, much like a drawbridge. We proceeded to enter another passageway. This one was much like the one we had been in earlier, but this one was far wider.
The carpeting was bright blue and the candles that were stuck in walls for light appeared to be old birthday candles—the kind that swirl around like the horn of a unicorn. There was all manner of statues and furniture lining these passages as well. Some of the tables were inverted thimbles with intricate designs carved into them. Most of these things though, seemed to have come from a child’s doll house.
At the end of the passageway, we came upon a pair of large double or ‘French doors.’ It also had two guards on either side of it and a metal sign plate on it that read: “Throne Room of Her Highness, Queen Agatha.” The metal sign appeared to be made out of a used piece of tin foil that had been etched upon.
“Prisoners for the Queen,” stated our Lieutenant.
Just then the doors flew open and out skipped a court jester ant. He was dressed in the traditional harlequin fashion: two colors alternating. He wore a puffy shirt with pink on left side and blue on the right. The blue side had a pink pocket and vice verse. His slacks were the alternate, meaning blue on the left and pink on the right. He wore a little cap with four little bells and his shoes had pointy toes with a little bell on the tip of each. This was the first ant we saw with shoes. He was carrying a pair of maracas.
“You may now enter to see...” the jester started, broke out into an hysterical laugh, composed himself and continued, “...the Queen!”
“Elliot!” boomed a hideous sounding voice from the throne room, “don’t you dare keep me waiting another second you silly jester!”
We were shoved into the chamber by the guards. Woba was tossed onto a mat in front of the throne. The floor was covered in yellow tile and there were green pillars surrounding the room. They looked more like decorations than actual supports for the ceiling. Upon a golden throne (which was definitely a reject from the “Gaudy Collection” of Barbie®) was seated the most hideous creature we had seen yet. She (we guessed the Queen was a ‘she’) was seated on an even more hideous slime green cushion.
Her Majesty was draped in a purple robe. Her face was disgusting; covered with warts and hairy moles. Her tooth-like beak was half rotted out and her hair was stringy and matted. She also sat upon a very giant ‘butt’ which Melissa later informed us was where all of the colonies eggs came from.
As we stood before the throne, Elliot the Jester continued to skip around us; performing an absurd little dance.
“That is the ugliest Queen I have ever seen,” whispered Cindy.
“Quiet,” persuaded a guard, nudging a spear into her ribs. She gave him a dirty look.
“Yeh! Quiet my sweet little meat-person,” leered Elliot, “Sweet little meat person would make Elliot a sweet little meat-bride!” he giggled.
“Silence you cackling idiot! Now, meat-people, kneel before your Queen!” she yelled, waving two of her arms.
Our slight hesitation in kneeling was quickly corrected by the guards, who shoved us to our knees. Two guards jumped upon Rob, trying to pull him down.
“Why isn’t he kneeling?” demanded the Queen, frantically.
“Kneel, kneel, kneel!” cackled the jester.
“If it beg your pardon, your Majesty,” offered the Lieutenant, “he doesn’t seem to have knees on which to kneel upon.”
“No knees, no knees!” cackled Elliot.
“Affirmative,” stated Rob.
“What! No knees! A mutant!” boomed the Queen. “Deactivate him immediately and take him to the Metal Melter. GO!”
One of the guards yanked out Rob’s external power pack—something I hadn’t yet figured out how to modify on him. Rob slumped forward; de-energized. Two guards rolled him out of the Throne Room.
“The robot man is going to melt; into soup he’s going to melt!” sang the jester.
“No! Leave him alone!” shouted Cindy.
“Please,” I begged, “he’s a valuable piece of computer hardware.” I thought for a second and then added quickly, “he could be reprogrammed to benefit you.”
“Silence!” yelled a guard, slapping my face with the back of his hand.
“Take him, too!” ordered the Queen, casually, “He’s dripping blood all over my lovely yellow tile.”
“Blood-dripper! Blood-dripper!” taunted Elliot, poking me in the ribs. The guards bound my arms and legs and then two of them carried me toward the door.
“Please,” started Melissa, calmly, “ we have no intentions of harming you.....” The guards paused by the door to await further instructions.
“Bite your tongue, meat-girlie. You must learn to speak only when spoken to.”
“My apologies, your Majesty,” curtsied Melissa, “may I speak?”
The evil Queen glared at her but finally nodded her consent.
“We mean you no harm,” began Melissa, “we entered your kingdom—by accident—trying to escape a vicious cat.”
“You mean us no harm?! Meat-people have stepped on us for years, set fire to us with magnifying glasses and collected us by the hundreds and kept us in jars without food or water until we all died!”
During this tirade, Elliot the Jester acted out all of the indignities described. He finally ended with a grand leap into the air, then landed on the ground; his legs in the air in a macabre death pose.
“And you claim that you mean us no harm?” continued the Queen.
Melissa was silent. She looked over toward Lisa and Cindy for help, but neither of them could think of anything else in their defense. The Queen continued.
“Now it is our turn. You tiny mutant meat-people are small enough that we now become the torturers and you... the tortured. Take him!” she pointed her scepter at me. I was carried out.
“If it please your Majesty,” began Lisa, “where are you taking him?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know!” cackled Elliot.
“That is for me to know and for you... to never find out,” the evil Queen stated calmly. “Guards, remove this meat-people garbage from my sight—their smell is unbearable.” She put a handkerchief up to her nose and mouth.
“Not this meat-girlie,” pleaded Elliot, grabbing hold of Cindy’s arm, “She’ll make a beautiful meat-bride!”
“Ick!” responded Cindy, yanking her arm away from him, “I wish I had a can of bug spray right now!”
“Aaarrgghh!” screamed the Queen, “Remove these vile meat-people this instant!”
As the guards started to drag the girls out of the room, Queen Agatha added, “Leave him, tough,” pointing to Woba, “He’d make a lovely, polo pony... or a decorative table; I haven’t quite decided yet.”
“Polo pony?” started Woba, “Decorative table? I’ll have you know that I would be the most educated polo pony or decorative table that you’ve ever seen. I have been university trained and can speak well over 2,463 languages. Eighteen of those languages are spoken only by me—since they are long ago extinct languages, but that becomes difficult since I have no one to speak to but myself—that is unless I write myself a letter and then hide it and wait a few quans before I look for it again, this way the letter is forgotten and someday when I actually remember it—if I remember it of course, because you know I may never remember it—but if and when I do, I shan’t recall what I had written because it will have been so long ago since I actually did write it, thus it will be like conversing with someone entirely different and not actually like conversing with myself....”
“GET RID OF HIM, TOO!” boomed the Queen, so loudly that the girls had to put their hands over their ears. “Who needs a chatty pony!”
The guards escorted the girls and Woba out of the Throne Room, with Elliot the Jester skipping around them the entire time.
Heading down a short passageway, they stopped in front of what looked like three laundry chutes. On the wall, next to each, was a piece of foil indicating that the three were “The Dungeon,” “The Torture Chamber” and “The Metal Melter.”
The guards opened the hatch marked “The Dungeon” and instructed the girls to slide down. Looking in, they saw that is was a handle to some giant table utensil; possibly a spoon or a ladle. The handle was at the top and they assumed the cup portion would be at the bottom.
After a nudge with the tip of a spear, Lisa climbed in first and slid down. Melissa and Cindy followed soon after and the guards hoisted Woba up to the chute to slide him down next. He tried to fight them by bracing himself against the wall with his legs, but the guards retaliated by poking him in the sides with their spears. Since he was made of rubber, the spears didn’t have any effect on him. Finally, one the guards tried to tickle him. Wombas are evidently very ticklish and in the fit of laughter that followed, the guards managed to un-brace his legs and slide him down the chute after the others.
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