Zef and Snorb in Spamalot
It all started, as many great adventures do, with an email.
Well… not an email exactly, but a mysterious pigeon wearing sunglasses and carrying a glittery scroll from Fin and Andy. Zef and Snorb found it stuck to the kitchen window with magical duct tape that smelled faintly of hazelnut coffee. The pigeon farted as it flew away.
“Dear Zef & Snorb,
Our darling friend Ana in Canada needs a little joy. Please deliver the cat paintings we made for her. We trust you’ll know what to do.
Love & Sparkles,
Fin & Andy
P.S. There might be minor magical interference. Bring snacks.”
Zef stroked his beard thoughtfully. Snorb licked the duct tape to see if the taste matched the coffee smell. It didn’t. It was betrayal.
“Ana lives in Canada,” Zef said with a slight squint at the globe.
“Where’s that? Is it north of the sock drawer?” Snorb asked, still chewing the sticky corner of the scroll.
“Farther. We'll need an airship.”
“Time to call Mork.”
Well… not an email exactly, but a mysterious pigeon wearing sunglasses and carrying a glittery scroll from Fin and Andy. Zef and Snorb found it stuck to the kitchen window with magical duct tape that smelled faintly of hazelnut coffee. The pigeon farted as it flew away.
“Dear Zef & Snorb,
Our darling friend Ana in Canada needs a little joy. Please deliver the cat paintings we made for her. We trust you’ll know what to do.
Love & Sparkles,
Fin & Andy
P.S. There might be minor magical interference. Bring snacks.”
Zef stroked his beard thoughtfully. Snorb licked the duct tape to see if the taste matched the coffee smell. It didn’t. It was betrayal.
“Ana lives in Canada,” Zef said with a slight squint at the globe.
“Where’s that? Is it north of the sock drawer?” Snorb asked, still chewing the sticky corner of the scroll.
“Farther. We'll need an airship.”
“Time to call Mork.”
Mork, Zef’s cousin, had a monocle and a suspicious number of leather straps on his vest, which clearly meant he was qualified to pilot an airship.
The vessel, the Puffernutter, was powered by hot cocoa and passive-aggressive sighs, and it hummed with the kind of energy that made birds whisper rumors about it.
Zef and Snorb packed Fin and Andy's cat paintings—Fin’s a serene tabby among daffodils, Andy’s a glowing mischief sprite with Celtic knotwork and a flaming crown—and boarded the Puffernutter with full hearts and questionable snacks.
At first, the journey was peaceful.
Until it wasn’t.
The skies began to cloud—not with storm clouds, but with spam. Pop-up bats, scam-flavored fog, and phishing eels writhed around them.
“We’re being botted!” Zef shouted.
“Quick! To arms!” Snorb cried, holding up his bare hands. “...Wait.”
Snorb slammed a fist on the floor. There was a puff of glitter and a dramatic guitar riff as a glaive conjured itself into his hands. It gleamed with a newness that suggested it had just come from a video game loot box.
He named it Ted.
Ted had three colorful ribbons tied beneath the blade—one sparkly blue, one neon pink, and one suspiciously sticky green. Snorb grinned, spinning Ted with goblin flair, and began slicing through spam clouds yelling, "REPORT! BLOCK! REPORT! BLOCK!”
Mork steered with one hand and swatted away flying offers for crypto NFT toothbrushes with the other.
But despite Snorb’s glaive-fu and Zef’s shielding scrolls, the sky grew thick with so much magical spam energy that it began to warp reality itself.
The vessel, the Puffernutter, was powered by hot cocoa and passive-aggressive sighs, and it hummed with the kind of energy that made birds whisper rumors about it.
Zef and Snorb packed Fin and Andy's cat paintings—Fin’s a serene tabby among daffodils, Andy’s a glowing mischief sprite with Celtic knotwork and a flaming crown—and boarded the Puffernutter with full hearts and questionable snacks.
At first, the journey was peaceful.
Until it wasn’t.
The skies began to cloud—not with storm clouds, but with spam. Pop-up bats, scam-flavored fog, and phishing eels writhed around them.
“We’re being botted!” Zef shouted.
“Quick! To arms!” Snorb cried, holding up his bare hands. “...Wait.”
Snorb slammed a fist on the floor. There was a puff of glitter and a dramatic guitar riff as a glaive conjured itself into his hands. It gleamed with a newness that suggested it had just come from a video game loot box.
He named it Ted.
Ted had three colorful ribbons tied beneath the blade—one sparkly blue, one neon pink, and one suspiciously sticky green. Snorb grinned, spinning Ted with goblin flair, and began slicing through spam clouds yelling, "REPORT! BLOCK! REPORT! BLOCK!”
Mork steered with one hand and swatted away flying offers for crypto NFT toothbrushes with the other.
But despite Snorb’s glaive-fu and Zef’s shielding scrolls, the sky grew thick with so much magical spam energy that it began to warp reality itself.
With a loud FWUMP, the Puffernutter was yanked from the sky like a child grabbing a balloon string. The airship didn’t crash—oh no, that would be too simple—it was deposited gently, rudely, inside a labyrinth.
Not just any labyrinth. A sandstone maze, its walls humming with glitchy light, pulsing like a cursed website sidebar. In the distance, a sandstone fortress loomed, crowned in pixelated banners that read "YOUR ACCOUNT HAS BEEN SUSPENDED” with fake DeviantART logos and "I'd like to use your art as inspiration for a mural, you'll be paid and given credit" in Comic Sans.
Snorb shuddered. “This is worse than the time I clicked on a link that turned out to be twelve thousand teeth.”
Trapped, the gnome and goblin paced the twisting corridors, every turn more illogically structured than the last.
“I’ve walked past that weird mossy mushroom three times,” Snorb muttered.
“That’s not a mushroom,” Zef said. “That’s your sock from Tuesday.”
“…Oh.”
They were about to despair when Zef remembered his mayoral panic whistle. He pulled it from his beard, gave it a sharp blow, and sparkles exploded in the air.
With a shimmer and the sound of a harp being sat on, Lord Sparklebutt appeared.
The peacock mayor hovered inches above the ground, surrounded by a halo of rainbow light and smelling faintly of cardamom. His tail glowed like a disco ball enchanted by a star.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lord Sparklebutt intoned.
“Spam,” Zef said.
“Specifically, a spam-trap labyrinth,” Snorb added.
“Ted,” said the glaive.
Lord Sparklebutt nodded gravely and began to strut in circles, leaving behind arcs of light and magical peacock glitter.
But just as his magic began to pulse and weave its counter-spell... suddenly the air felt wrong, making the gnome, goblin and peacock gasp in fright, and then...
...It appeared.
What had been a simple blue yarn strand, tucked into the edge of a spam-glitched wall, suddenly uncoiled and moved.
A long, thick, shaggy strand of blue yarn slithered into the center of the maze.
Zef’s breath caught.
Snorb clutched Ted. “Is that…”
“The Blue Ting™,” Zef whispered.
The Blue Ting™ hissed. It did not have a mouth, and yet they all felt it hiss, deep in their souls.
The Blue Ting™ crept closer.
And closer.
And closer.
And then--
A brown blur dashed into the scene.
MooMoo.
Without breaking stride, MooMoo—elegant, quiet, majestic—grabbed the Blue Ting™ in her mouth and began to chant an ancient cat banishing spell that sounded vaguely like "HEWWO? OWO" and trotted off as casually as if it were her favorite toy. Which, technically, it now was.
The Blue Ting™ gave a muffled eldritch screech as it was carted off.
Everyone watched in stunned silence.
“She…” Zef whispered.
“She saved us,” Snorb breathed.
“I’m voting her in as queen,” said Lord Sparklebutt.
And with the Blue Ting™ neutralized, Lord Sparklebutt’s spell took hold.
The walls of the labyrinth melted into golden light, the fortress crumbled into digital dust, and the spam popups popped away with a faint “boop.”
The airship reappeared.
The sky cleared.
The cat paintings, somehow, were untouched.
Zef and Snorb hand-delivered them to Ana’s cottage on the snowiest edge of the forest in Canada. Ana was overjoyed, especially by the glowing Celtic cat.
Not just any labyrinth. A sandstone maze, its walls humming with glitchy light, pulsing like a cursed website sidebar. In the distance, a sandstone fortress loomed, crowned in pixelated banners that read "YOUR ACCOUNT HAS BEEN SUSPENDED” with fake DeviantART logos and "I'd like to use your art as inspiration for a mural, you'll be paid and given credit" in Comic Sans.
Snorb shuddered. “This is worse than the time I clicked on a link that turned out to be twelve thousand teeth.”
Trapped, the gnome and goblin paced the twisting corridors, every turn more illogically structured than the last.
“I’ve walked past that weird mossy mushroom three times,” Snorb muttered.
“That’s not a mushroom,” Zef said. “That’s your sock from Tuesday.”
“…Oh.”
They were about to despair when Zef remembered his mayoral panic whistle. He pulled it from his beard, gave it a sharp blow, and sparkles exploded in the air.
With a shimmer and the sound of a harp being sat on, Lord Sparklebutt appeared.
The peacock mayor hovered inches above the ground, surrounded by a halo of rainbow light and smelling faintly of cardamom. His tail glowed like a disco ball enchanted by a star.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lord Sparklebutt intoned.
“Spam,” Zef said.
“Specifically, a spam-trap labyrinth,” Snorb added.
“Ted,” said the glaive.
Lord Sparklebutt nodded gravely and began to strut in circles, leaving behind arcs of light and magical peacock glitter.
But just as his magic began to pulse and weave its counter-spell... suddenly the air felt wrong, making the gnome, goblin and peacock gasp in fright, and then...
...It appeared.
What had been a simple blue yarn strand, tucked into the edge of a spam-glitched wall, suddenly uncoiled and moved.
A long, thick, shaggy strand of blue yarn slithered into the center of the maze.
Zef’s breath caught.
Snorb clutched Ted. “Is that…”
“The Blue Ting™,” Zef whispered.
The Blue Ting™ hissed. It did not have a mouth, and yet they all felt it hiss, deep in their souls.
The Blue Ting™ crept closer.
And closer.
And closer.
And then--
A brown blur dashed into the scene.
MooMoo.
Without breaking stride, MooMoo—elegant, quiet, majestic—grabbed the Blue Ting™ in her mouth and began to chant an ancient cat banishing spell that sounded vaguely like "HEWWO? OWO" and trotted off as casually as if it were her favorite toy. Which, technically, it now was.
The Blue Ting™ gave a muffled eldritch screech as it was carted off.
Everyone watched in stunned silence.
“She…” Zef whispered.
“She saved us,” Snorb breathed.
“I’m voting her in as queen,” said Lord Sparklebutt.
And with the Blue Ting™ neutralized, Lord Sparklebutt’s spell took hold.
The walls of the labyrinth melted into golden light, the fortress crumbled into digital dust, and the spam popups popped away with a faint “boop.”
The airship reappeared.
The sky cleared.
The cat paintings, somehow, were untouched.
Zef and Snorb hand-delivered them to Ana’s cottage on the snowiest edge of the forest in Canada. Ana was overjoyed, especially by the glowing Celtic cat.
On the return trip, Zef and Snorb sat in the Puffernutter’s basket wrapped in emergency weighted blankets, faces grim.
Fin and Andy met them with glasses of hazelnut iced coffee and apologetic faces.
“I swear we didn’t know about the spam,” Fin said.
“We thought you might just get a weird storm or a sentient raccoon. Not... a metaphysical labyrinth conjured by spam twats,” Andy added.
Zef narrowed his eyes. “You sent us with two cat paintings and no spam warding.”
Fin and Andy nodded solemnly. “We’re sorry.”
Snorb’s eyes softened. “Can the next mission have fewer eldritch horrors?”
“And more marshmallows,” Zef said.
“Of course,” Andy said. “Promise.”
And in the next room over, MooMoo pounced on the Blue Ting™ again—just in case.
Fin and Andy met them with glasses of hazelnut iced coffee and apologetic faces.
“I swear we didn’t know about the spam,” Fin said.
“We thought you might just get a weird storm or a sentient raccoon. Not... a metaphysical labyrinth conjured by spam twats,” Andy added.
Zef narrowed his eyes. “You sent us with two cat paintings and no spam warding.”
Fin and Andy nodded solemnly. “We’re sorry.”
Snorb’s eyes softened. “Can the next mission have fewer eldritch horrors?”
“And more marshmallows,” Zef said.
“Of course,” Andy said. “Promise.”
And in the next room over, MooMoo pounced on the Blue Ting™ again—just in case.
Author's note 1: I know that Canada has more than one forest and isn't snowy year-round, that was just for comedic effect
Author's note 2: You may be wondering why Zef handled the Blue Ting so calmly in Andy's story The Transmutation of Trouble and was too paralyzed by fear here - it was because the spam labyrinth was disorienting and put his anxiety on an amplifier! That said, MooMoo is best at saving everyone from the Blue Ting™
Author's note 3: This was made for Vibrant Visionaries Challenge #13, from the word list:
polearm, goblin, fortress, ribbon, airship, sandstone, labyrinth
Author's note 2: You may be wondering why Zef handled the Blue Ting so calmly in Andy's story The Transmutation of Trouble and was too paralyzed by fear here - it was because the spam labyrinth was disorienting and put his anxiety on an amplifier! That said, MooMoo is best at saving everyone from the Blue Ting™
Author's note 3: This was made for Vibrant Visionaries Challenge #13, from the word list:
polearm, goblin, fortress, ribbon, airship, sandstone, labyrinth
