Warriors: Quest for the Enchanted Ball of Yarn: book 1 - the scratchening

Chapter 12

The river was even wetter than the kits dreamt it was.

But getting to it was much more annpying than anything they had done all day.

Their day started out at the camp that they had made for themselves with the help of The Hero, and having a delicious breakfast from the fruit and dead mouses they found in the woods.

"Has anyone seen my mouse bacon?" BlueKit asked the group.

"Yeah I seen it... when I ate it!" JeromeKit said snarkily.

"Yeah, and I seen it when I nined it," ToolKit added.

"Stop copying JeromeKit's grammar ToolKit," LuckyKit yelled at her fool brother.

"And stop eating my breakfast!" BlueKit yelled at JeromeKit.

"Then you stop telling me to stop doing things," JeromeKit argued.

"Yeah, and all of you stop telling me to have bath after I go to the litterbox because poop gets stuck in my fur all the time," ToolKit screamed.

The Hero came into the camp with a handful of firewood he had collected. "Why are you kits fighting with each other? Friends don't fight with friends."

"I think we're all a little grumpy because we didn't get a very good sleep," BlueKit explained.

"Why not?"

"Because somebody was snoring," ToolKit answered accusingly.

"Who?"

"How should I know?" ToolKit stupidly responded. "I was asleep."

"But I thought you said you couldn't sleep?" The Hero said with confusion.

"So?"

"So how do you know it was me whose snoring was keeping you awake if you were sleeping through it?"

"I'll tell you how," ToolKit began. "I don't know how."

"Well if you're finished your breakfast we should really get back on the road," The Hero told the kits.

"Some of us haven't had breakfast. Some of us had our breakfast stolen!" BlueKit said while glaring at JeromeKit.

"Whatchew lookin' at me for?" JeromeKit grunted. "Racist!"

"Hold on a cat-minute," LuckyKit pondered. "If we're leaving why did you get firewood?"

"You wouldn't understand," The Hero mysteriously replied, then headed towards the path.

They were within a frog's throw of the river when suddenly a grumpy patrol troll stepped in their path.

"Can you please get out of the way?" BlueKit crossly requested.

"If you wish to pass you must answer my question four," the patrol troll growled.

"Four? Isn't it traditionally questions three?" asked The Hero.

"Shut up and answer my questions!"

"How can we answer if we shut up?" ToolKit asked.

"Question the one," the patrol troll started. "How many times have I eaten baked beans?"

"How in the fridge are we supposed to know that?" JeromeKit squeaked.

"What is your answer?" bellowed the troll.

"I don't know!" LuckyKit shouted back.

"That is correct," the troll said grumpily. "Question the two: what is the brown?"

The kits looked at each other trying to sort out what this question could possibly mean.

"I think ToolKit should take this one," LuckyKit curiously suggested.

"I think ToolKit should keep his stupid mouth closed," JeromeKit rebutted.

"I think I'm with JeromeKit on this one," ToolKit noted.

"Go ahead ToolKit; what's the worst that could happen?" BlueKit shrugged.

"The worst thing?" The Hero asked rhetorically. "Patrol trolls are known to slaughter hundreds of cats at a time if they answer incorrectly."

"In that case, maybe ToolKit should keep quiet," BlueKit observed, but unfortunately ToolKit was already standing in front of the patrol troll.

"The brown is yellow," ToolKit told the troll. The troll squinted at ToolKit with confusion.

"You might be the smartest cat I have ever met," the troll told him.

"Yeah I know," shrugged ToolKit.

"But you must still answer my final two questions. Question the three: are you a) C, b) A, c)B or d) none of the above?"

"Please, that's not even a challenge," ToolKit huffed while his companions looked to one another perplexed. "The answer is W."

"Very good," the troll said, genuinely impressed by ToolKit. "And now for my final and most epic question... what is my name?"

ToolKit's eyes widened. He turned about face to look at his friends who all shrugged.

"Before I answer your question may I please ask you a question?" ToolKit begged the troll.

"Yes. Now what is your answer?"

"But I haven't asked my question yet."

"Yes you did. You asked if you could ask me a question. That was your question."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes it was, now tell me what my name is!"

"Why should I?"

"Because if you don't answer I will destroy you and your companions."

"How come?"

"Because that's what I like to do!"

"Well that explains it," ToolKit said with a nod.

"It explains what?" growled the troll.

"Why you don't have any friends."

"I have friends!"

"No you don't. That's why you want me to tell you what your name is. Because no one has said your name to you in so long that you've forgotten what it is because you have no friends."

The patrol troll glared nastily at ToolKit for a long intense moment, then suddenly began to cry. "It's true. I don't have any friends."

"Poor little evil troll," ToolKit consoled the troll while putting his front leg around the troll's grotesque shoulder. "There there."

Once he finished crying like a little baby the troll let the company pass, and they were at the adequately wet river by the time the sun was getting ready to set.