Escape from the Jellyfather

Once, in an era that may or may not have existed, there were two emissaries sent to bring tribute to the Queen. Thistlewhip, dashing, quick-tongued, and entirely too pleased with himself, and his best friend Muskar the Mighty, tall as a mountain and strong as an ox, though perhaps with the intellectual finesse of a particularly loyal turnip.

They were very close, Thistlewhip and Muskar. Partners in diplomacy. Veterans of the Great Cheese War. Unofficial champions of the fifty-sixth annual Finger-Painting Tournament.

This is the story of how Thistlewhip and Muskar approached the Queen’s throne together with all the dignity two emissaries could muster after three days lost in a perfume marsh and one unfortunate encounter with a sarcastic squirrel.

Thistlewhip presented a mirror said to reveal one’s truest self. The Queen was first excited to look, but then smashed the mirror on the arm of the throne, yelling that she didn't see anything at all.

Then Muskar stepped forward, confident that at least his tribute would be accepted. He presented the candle his town's elders had enchanted to burn for a hundred years, symbolic of their enduring loyalty. He lit the candle and handed it to the Queen.

But as she examined it, a low ominous sound rumbled from the depths of her throne. Everyone stilled. Then the smell hit.

The smell rolled through the chamber like a summoned beast. Spices. Sulfur. Regret. The Queen flushed crimson, but then regained her composure and pinched the flame between her fingers. She said that clearly their town's loyalty carried the scent of desperation.

She dropped the candle. She said, "Some loyalty rises," as she set her hand on the lever next to her throne. Then she yanked the lever and called out, "Yours stinks!" as the floor vanished under their feet and they tumbled down a slide.

They rolled head over heel down the stone slide. But then it turned wet and squishy, like they were falling down a throat. They suddenly popped out into the air and landed in a heap upon a thick, soft surface that jiggled beneath them. When they tried to stand, the ground beneath them rippled like gelatin.

They found themselves in a vast chamber, dimly lit by glowing mushrooms and a chandelier made of bones and spoons. But the walls. The walls were moist and pulsing, covered in a sticky ivy. Or perhaps hair. The two of them decided not to question it.

In the center of the chamber was a massive, glistening creature, ten feet tall, with translucent skin and things floating inside it. It wore a crumpled crown made of old forks, napkin rings, and one small tiara. It was unmistakable: this was... the Jellyfather.

Its voice sounded like a drum filled with pudding. "More snacks?" its voice rumbled. "Or visitors? Or snack-visitors?" It drooled at them. But it did so politely.

It leaned over and sniffed at them. "What are your names, little ones?"

Muskar stuttered out, "N-no one. I'm no one."

"No One," the creature purred, then turned to Thistlewhip. "And you? What is your name?"

He blinked only once before he said confidently, "Nobody."

The creature hummed in thought. "No One and Nobody. What curious names."

"They're common where we're from," Thistlewhip told him.

"And where is that?" the creature asked.

"Oh, you wouldn't know it. Just a town by the eastern sea," Thistlewhip answered.

The Jellyfather’s body quivered with excitement and exclaimed, "Sea food! I’ve never had sea food before!" It raised a dripping hand toward them. "Let’s taste!"

But Thistlewhip threw out a hand and yelled, "Wait! You can’t eat us yet!"

"No?" The creature looked surprised.

"No," Thistlewhip told him, "We’re not... ripe."

Now the creature was confused. "Ripe?"

"Well," Thistlewhip explained, "You’ve smelled us. Cold air. Travel stress. We need time... to warm... to... to ferment!"

The Jellyfather hummed. "Fermented snacks are quite trendy," it said while nodding knowingly.

"Exactly," Thistlewhip continued. "Let us rest until morning, then we’ll be properly fermented with existential dread."

The Jellyfather nodded in understanding. "Very well. I shall devour you at sunrise." It drooled at them. But it did so politely.

The Jellyfather kept them close all day and evening. But at night as he slept they dared to creep away and investigate. They found the entrance gate guarded by soldiers. But then they realized the walls were sticky. Squishy. But climbable! So up they went, slurp slurp slurp up the wall. They got up pretty high.

But then a bellow echoed through the chamber. "No One is trying to escape!"

Guards shouted out from the gate, "What do you mean?"

"Help! Capture them! Nobody is climbing the walls!" the creature hollered.

Thistlewhip and Muskar were high, but still had far to go. The gate screeched open, and the duo froze. But the guards just rushed right under them, completely missing them clinging to the slime.

They resumed climbing, quicker now. Slurp slurp, squish squish. But then Thistlewhip lost his grip. Down he fell, smashing into Muskar on the way. They landed in a tangle of limbs on the gelatinous ground.

"No One just fell! Get them!" the Jellyfather cried.

The guards looked at each other, confused. "Is the Jellyfather all right?"

Thistlewhip and Muskar saw the open unguarded gate. They went to run, but then Thistlewhip hissed, "Run backwards!" And backwards they ran, right behind the guards.

"Nobody is right behind you! Look!" the creature wailed.

One guard approached him gently. "Maybe you had a nightmare, Jellyfather. You should lie down."

Thistlewhip and Muskar made it through the gate, and kept running backwards until they vanished from sight.

"Look behind you! Follow their footsteps!" the Jellyfather demanded.

The guards finally looked, but all they saw were footprints coming toward them. They shrugged and walked away, leaving the Jellyfather to rant and rave about No One and Nobody.

True story.