Diary of a Confused Bandit
Deer Diery,
Tooday wuz a weerd day. Me an Theodyrick went huntin for money az usul. Theodyrick maks me mad. He always gotta burn peeple wen I wanna squish em. Fire is scary.
Aneeway, we met a man tooday outside Atatar, he wuz wakin aroun all confident-like. Theodyrick sed he must hav lots of mony if he acts so “pompoz” (Theo tat me dat word). Theo had a plan. He sed he wood pos as a hiwayman, and, if da man did not pay, he wood signal an amboosh. Theo is smart. He med me sit in a boosh and be kwiet. I did. Theo stoped da man, like he sed, and dey taked for a wile. Dey used big words, I think I got mos of em.
“Sory ser, dere is a tacks her, by ordor of our mos gloreos emprah, yoo-are-reel septum. Pleez pay us all your mony, or die.”
“O, I ashur yoo, I hav no mony. I am, howaver, wellthee in nawlege. I no much an tel som. Wood yoo leik to heer me owt?”
Theo an da man taked abowt majik an historee and pawlowtiks. I did not understan. I got board, an wanted to see da man better, so I poked my hed owt of da boosh to see him. He wuz boring, all I saw dat inturezted me wuz dat he had too sords, an no sheeld. Sheelds ar nice to hav. I wood uoos won, but my hamar is too big. I lik my hamar.
Da man saw me, and laffed. He sed “I see dis is an amboosh. Yoo too ar obveeoslee bandits. Tel me, wai do yoo aproch me?”
I sed “we want yor mony, so we can by stuf.” Theo wuz angry. Theo is always angry wen I tak. Theo is meen.
“And wat ‘stuf’ do yoo wan too by?” he askd.
I got egsited. “Sheny wepuns and armor!” I lik sheny wepuns and armor.
He askd “An wat wil yoo do with sheny wepuns and armor?”
“I wil rob mor peeple, of cors.”
“An wer dos that get yoo? Do yoo not see da sicle? Robing peeple only les yoo rob mor peeple. Yoo deserv mor. I can help yoo. Tel me, wai dos mony buy wepons and armor?”
“Becuz mony is valubal, an peeple want mony. I want mony.”
“An wai is mony valubal?” he askd.
Theo stepd in frunt of me. “I no wat yoo ar doon. Mort heer is a dum ork. Yoo ar tryin too tern him agenst me. Enof of yor tak, I am sik of wayting. Yor mony or yor lif.” Theo grabed his sord, and his oter hand began to gloe. He wuz gona burn da man. Theo is meen.
Theo brot his sord don on da man. But da man did somthin. He grabed his too sords and crosed them, blokin Theo’s atak. Theo steped bak. “How did yoo do that? Blokin with too wepuns is not posible.”
Da man smeled. “Yes, dat is a ly yoo hav ben told. I tryed to teech yoo, but yoo wil not lissen. Yoo ar hopless if yoo wil not lern. Yoo ar greedee, my mony meens somting too yoo. Yoo refyoos to lissen too mai werds. Mony is onlee as importent as yoo mayk it. In dis world, we all com from notheeng, and it is notheeng we shal reetorn too. Thee world arownd yoo is a ly. Wee ar all part of wun beeng, and, as wee ar all wun, wee ar all eekwal. Da mony in mai poket is anudder part of da ly wee liv in. Dis mony onlee has valyoo becuz sumwun sumwer sed so. It is onlee as reel as yoo an mee, and we ar both part of da ly. Da ly permeeates al of efrythin. Da ly is I an al ar wee.”
Theo got mad an left, he mad mee com too. “Mort if yoo do not leev rite now I wil not giv yoo anee denner.” I lik denner. Da man whispored a fyew thengs in mai eer. I do not no wat to beleev anymor.
Wy wood sumwun ly abowt evrything? Lyeng is bad. If evrything is a ly, wut is troo? Theo an da boys told me too stap theenkeeng so much, I wood hurt maiself. Dey theenk I am dum. Dey are dumb. I no what is reel an wut is not. I put a animul in Theo’s soup erlier. It was funy.
Now I do not no how to feel. Da trooth is hard to find. Da man mentchuned a land of ash and invizabal dragons dat fly clos too da grownd. Maybe I wil find da trooth ther. Wun thing is for shur. Dat man new many things dat uthers doo not.