A Series of Questions by One Inquisitive Young Blubberstein

One must understand that there comes a point in every young man’s life (usually around the age of three years old) in which his level of inquisitiveness far exceeds his capability of speech. Thus, when reading Bobby Blubberstein’s dialogue, it is important for you to realize that the spelling errors indicate errors in pronunciation that a three year old who lacks complete control over the the complicated English language would make.

One might ask why the peaceful Elephanters who maintained their traditional lifestyle by staying detached from all the outside wars would cancel their yearly celebration to risk their lives on the side of the most notorious, cruel, and malevolent bad guy in the entire universe. Well, that’s what Bobby Blubberstein, an average Elephanter three year old, was asking.

“Hey mommy, I have a queschon,” Bobby proclaimed while tugging on his mother’s sleeve.”

“Yes son, what is it?”

“Why aren’t we havin the celebwations today like we alwas do?” Bobby asked.

“Because we’re at war, son.”

“Mommy, I have a question again.”

“What is it?”

“Why are we at war?”

“Because the evil King Matthias is attacking us.” His mother bought some groceries and Bobby walked beside her in silence for a few moments, contemplating what she had told her. After she finished loading the groceries into their wagon, he tugged at her sleeve again.

“Hey mommy, I have another queschon again again.”

“Another question? Again?”

“Nooooooo,” he said, slowing shaking his head while drawing out the “o” sound.

“Then why did you say you had a question again?

“I didn't. I said I have a queschon again again. Befowr I had a queschon again, so now I have a queschon again again.”

His mother sighed. “What’s your question?”

“How do we know dat Evil King Matas is attakin us?”

“Because the kind Dude sailed here and warned us that he was going to invade us.

They clambered into the wagon the horse lazily pulled them toward their home.

“Hey mommy I have a quechon…again again again.”

“What now?”

“Can I have a i-brick?

“No! I’ve already told you a million times you’re not getting an i-brick. We already got you a messenger pigeon, you should be happy with that.”

“But you can’t play games on a mesger pigon. I tried and it didn't work.”

“That’s exactly why you’re not getting an I-brick. I don’t want you wasting your life on playing pointless games.”

“I have another queschon.” “If it’s about the i-Brick, I’ve already told you a million times I’m not getting you one.”

“Nooooooooo,” Bobby said, slowly shaking his head. “It’s abowt the dude. How do we know he is da good guy? Hes scawy.”

“Don’t be scared,” his mother comforted, giving him a hug. “The Dude is a good man who is kindly sacrificing his own wellbeing to help us defeat King Mathias. You should emulate his behavior.”

At that moment an arrow from one of King Matthias’ troops pierced the armor of a robotic BarneyBot aimlessly standing next to The Dude. As the arrow shredded the BarneyBot’s ciruits its eyes flickered for a moment before they went blank and it fell backward, trapping The Dude underneath its metallic behind. A fountain of ungrammatical curses poured out of the Dude’s mouth.

“But, um, maybe you shouldn’t emulate his actions too closely.”

***

Many years later, a rumor spread that The Dude was not the valiant leader he was made out to be. A few years after that, the rumor was proved to be true. While many Elephanters wished to avoid enticing The Dude's wrath, a few brave Elephanters rebelled against his tyranny.

"Mother, I'm joining the rebellion," one inquisitive teenage Blubberstein announced.

"Don't be foolish!" His mother snapped without looking up from her knitting. "You'll be throwing yourself to your death! How will you even fight back? The king confiscated all weapons."

"The resistance has gathered weapons in secret in preparation for a decisive battle to overthrow The Dude. But they need every man they can get to fight. They need me to fight."

His mother looked up from her knitting and, realizing that her son seriously intended to leave, looked him in the eye.

"I can't let you go," she stated.

"I'm thirteen now, mom. That isn't your choice to make anymore." Robert Blubberstein grabbed his bags, which he had packed earlier, and walked toward the door. His mother leapt to her feet and grasped his arm.

"Don't go," she pleaded. "Fighting against our king is futile. Son, I love you, and trust me when I tell you that it is in your best interests to obey the royal decree."

"You mean to remain submissive and complacent? I'm sorry mother, but I have already made my choice."

Robert gently broke free from his mother's grasp and left.

***

Some years later, an elderly Elephanter woman watched four Elephanters lower a wooden coffin into the ground. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she wailed in agony as she watched them bury her only son.

One must understand that there is no greater grief than that of a mother forced to bury her child.