Hello once again people who read this blog! So last Friday I left off on my report on the Vikings Vs. The English with me leaving Jarzloft after interviewing Yorloft the Cuddly. He gave some pretty interesting info about how the English ran them out of their home country, and how he thinks cats look tasty. Now lets head over to London, England and speak with Peter Schwartzmenheimer.
When I finally arrived in Europe I got an awesome surprise. The boat had taken me all the way to London, England! I was expecting it to drop me off in France and I'd have to travel or something. But instead it took me straight to London, so no walking 200 miles for me! Yay! Instead I had to walk 50. Well I didn't technically HAVE to, I just couldn't find this Schwartzmenheimer guys house. So I walked in a huge circle around London for an hour and a half looking for his house, which if you stretched out all the distance I walked, it'd be about 50 miles. I finally decided to ask someone if they knew him. Aren't I a genius for coming up with that idea? I walked up to a middle-aged man, probably in his late 40's, who was pushing a cart over flowing with flowers. Was he a flower salesman? "Excuse me sir?" He looked at me and I noticed he had bright red rosy cheeks. He was also about my height, and he wore a red and black work boots. His hair was slightly gray. Was he the Santa Clause of Flowers? "Yes young man? Would you like to buy some flowers?" His English accent was so rich I can't even describe it by typing it out. I wondered if everyone's voice was like that around here. Why would they be? It's not like I'm in England. "Do you know where I could find a man named Peter?" "Peter who? Peter Phillips? Peter Thomp? Peter-" "Schwartzmenheimer sir." Flower Clause, I decided to call him, looked at me like I was a crazy person. "Why would you want to see HIM?" "I need to ask him a few questions about the vikings." "Young man, did you honestly not see all the signs of him around London? He's our tyrant king!" Hmm. Now that he mentions it, there were a lot of posters of him around London: A tall, red headed, pimply faced Englishmen in a bright red coat and a sword tied to his waist. I didn't know they had advertisement like that back then. I also wondered if everyone around here was trying their best to do Santa Clause cosplay. If they were, my money was on Flower Clause. "Where can I find him?" The old man kept looking at me, like he couldn't believe I still wanted to go see him. "His palace is in the very center of town, but if you go there venture at your own risk Viking. He hates foreigners." Of coarse, the center of town. The one part of town I didn't look in. And Viking? I looked down at myself and noticed I was still wearing my my Viking style fur coats. "Oh, I'm not a viking sir. These are my hunting clothes." I lied. Flower Clause chuckled. "Well don't let any guards see you in that, unless you want a sword to the gut." "Thanks for the advice.." This guy was kinda creepy. I started running in the direction of the palace and heard Flower Clause yelling to me "Anytime young man! If you ever need some flowers, you know where to find me!" I waved my hand back at him and kept running. When I got into view of the palace, I remembered something crucial. "He hates foreigners." Uh oh. I saw some guards coming in my direction and I dove into a back alley. They kept walking with legs held high and hats even higher. After they had passed, I sneaked into a a house to look for clothes. There was a woman nearby hanging up clothes, so I had to be quiet. After looking for five minutes in this tiny, original English-apartment style building I found some clothes. A pair of black boots, brown gloves, and a red coat with a black cross on the back. I tried them on and they fit perfectly. Now if only I was blonde and had longer hair I'd look just like the Fullmetal Alchemist. Before I could finish thinking how awesome I looked I heard footsteps coming into the house. It was the lady from outside! Without thinking (which I'm pretty good at) I jumped out the closest window before she could see me. Fortunately for me the window was only 4 feet off the ground. Unfortunately I landed flat on my face with a loud THUD! After laying there for a minute, and having a cat walk over my head, I got up and headed Schwartzmenheimers palace. After walking for 10 minutes I finally reached the palace gate, but right when I was about to walk in "STOP!". I turned around to see what was talking to me. What I saw was an ogre of a guard, looming over me with a huge Greatsword in his hands! I didn't think they still used those in this age! He was at least 7 feet tall, and around 400 pounds. Unfortunately all that weight was muscle. He wasn't the most attractive looking guy either. His face said "HEY KID GIMME ALL YOUR MONEY OR ILL KILL YOU...REPEATEDLY!". If I were to sum up this guy, he looked like the son of Shrek and Beth Phoenix, but got Shrek's looks and Beth's muscle. "NOW WHERE DO YOU THINK YER' GOIN' YOUNG MAN? SCRAM!" I looked at him for a minute, then decided to go away. PSYCH! Instead. I walked around to the back the palace and jumped the wall. It was way too easy, because there were no guards! Whoever this Peter guy was he was really stupid, because he only had guards at the front gate. As I snuck into the house I could hear Shrek Phoenix yelling "GIMME COOKIE!" to a passing civilian. Just wow.
After sneaking around the palace for a few minutes I began to notice a few things. #1: The inside of the house was pure white! Everything was white, there was no other color in the house. It must really stink if someone accidentally spills grape juice on the everything. #2: There were no guards outside because they were all inside! Everywhere you looked there was a guard, all with an English Longsword in their hands. They too were wearing nothing but white. How they didn't see me though, I'm not sure. It's kinda hard to miss a tan kid in red and black walking right past you in a house that's entirely white. But hey, maybe I'm just that awesome. I finally found my way into the main room where Peter was residing. When I walked in I found something that made my jaw drop. The entire room was made out of every kind of color you could imagine! Red, blue, green, yellow, purple, black, opal, burgindene, brown, aquamarine, and many, many others! Now all you needed was a disco ball in here and you'd have a recipe for seizures. Sitting in the middle of the room was a man in a suit that was every color of the rainbow. I started to move closer to him when I stepped on a stick A conveniently placed stick in the middle of a hippies wonderland. The man in the chair turned around to face me. "HAHA! Looks like you fell for my genius trap! I call it, The You Step On This Stick And It Makes A Loud Noise So I know You're Coming Trap!" I could tell already this guy was crazy. He was almost as tall as Shrek Phoenix outside, but he wore a suit like you'd find one of those dancers singing "Hello my lady, Hello my darling!" in the 1960's. Even weirder was the color of the suit. Well, more like color's. Just like this room, his suit was every color you could think of. He had a sword tied to his waist, and the handle was also rainbow colored. I wondered if the blade was rainbow colored as well, and if he cut you with it you'd turn into Nyan Cat and spend the rest of your life flying around in space pooping out rainbows. I wouldn't be surprised. "Are you Peter Schwartzmenheimer?" I asked. "DEPENDS! Who vants to know?" he hollered at me. He had the face of a psycho as well: Messy red hair, cross-eyes, and a grin that reminded me a lot of the Cat-erpillar from Alice in Wonderland. "My name is DJ. I'd like to ask you a few questions about the vikings." "WHO LET YOU IN HERE? WAS IT MARIA? I'LL GET THAT GIRL!" he said shaking his fist to the sky. "No one lit me in sir. I let myself in." "WHO IS THIS NO ONE PERSON? I'LL GET HIM TOO!" he said, still shaking his fist to the sky. "Can I ask you some questions or no?" "Ok sit down." he said with a completely sane voice. Yep, this guy is crazy. I sat down in a multicolored chair and pulled out my notepad. "So, Mr. Peter-" "Call me Peter." he said, rudely. "OK Peter, what do you think of the Vikings?" "I don't like them." he said flatly. "OK, why not?" "They're heathens. They live in filthy climates, they hardly cook their food, they wear animal skins as clothes, and ONE TRIED TO EAT MY CAT!" Just then a fat, white fluffy cat walked into the room. He hopped up on Peter's lap and he began petting it like an evil mastermind. "So I ran them out of their homeland. Apparently they didn't like that, not sure why. So they come and raid my kingdom every Thursday and take a ton of silver. Every time they come they take more and more!" "MREOW!" As Peter kept talking about why he hate the vikings, I wrote every word down in my notepad. This guy had a lot to say. But after two hours of talking, I noticed it was getting dark. "AND THEN THIS ONE TIME-" "OK Peter, I'd best get going. It's getting dark and my family will be worrying." I lied, again. "OK, WHATEVER! GOODBYE CJ!" "DJ." "WHATEVER! LEAVE!" So on that happy quote I walked out the door, snuck past Shrek Phoenix who was digging for gold in his nose, and left London. I pulled out my time machine watch and went 1003 years into the future, satisfied with the info I got. My newspaper became a hit sensation, and I became a wealthy man. The End.
Sorry if this was more like a story then a newspaper article, apparently I don't know how to write newspaper articles. So yeah, that's my report on The Vikings Vs. The English. The End.