[quote]Submission 1:
Just Another Day: show
The sun rose over the vast African plains, and all through the Pride Lands, one thing could be heard.
Nants ingonyama bagithi baba.
***
Ever since Simba had become king, he had not had a good sleep since, well, since he had become king. He had overthrown Scar, but had been having restless nights ever since. Simba opened his eyes and yawned, blasting Nala with his morning breath.
“Ew Simba, watch where you direct that breath, there’s nothing worse than waking up to the smell of it.”
“You remind me of Timon; he used to say that a lot when we were living in the jungle.”
Simba stood up and stretched while letting out another yawn.
***
Simba walked over to a nice shady spot under a tree, and went to doze off when Zazu flew into Simba’s sight range.
“Good morning sire!” said Zazu.
“Can’t a lion get just a little sleep around here?” said Simba as he sighed to himself.
“I’m afraid not your majesty. The leopards are in a bit of a spot at the moment. They’ve just complained to me that elephants have gone and trampled their homes. I have of course told them to meet at Pride Rock for you to sort it all out.”
“Gee, thanks Zazu. What would I ever do without you.” Said Simba sarcastically.
“Well I think that without me the kingdom would be in utter chaos your majesty.”
“Did my father ever teach you sarcasm Zazu?”
Simba stood up and started heading towards Pride Rock.
***
“So we came home after a successful hunt to find our home crushed. We knew it was the elephants because we saw them nearby; they did the exact same thing to us last year! We are so hungry, they took our food too!” said a testifying leopard, claiming to have been forced out of home by the elephants.
“Objection! Did you or did you not clearly state that you returned from a successful hunt?” asked Simba, who was always the judge and defence attorney.
“I did.” Replied the leopard.
“Then why did you go without food for that night if you had caught something earlier?”
“GAHHHHHH!” yelled the leopard.
“I’ve heard enough from you leopards; let’s hear the elephant’s testimony.” Said Simba.
“We were quietly eating near the leopard’s home when we heard an almighty yell directed at us. ‘You damn elephants!’ those leopards said. We had done nothing! One of us has claimed that they even saw the leopards destroying their own homes!” said the elephant that was testifying for the herd.
After a brief pause, Simba started to talk again.
“I have found no contradictions in this elephant’s testimony.”
Simba stopped for a moment to decide his final judgement.
“I have concluded that the leopards destroyed their own homes as to frame the elephants, as the leopards could not stand to have them so close to their homes. I declare the defendants, the elephants, not guilty. The leopards will have to share their land with the elephants for as long as the elephants are there, or move to a new location. Court dismissed”
As the animals started to leave, Simba walked over to where Nala was watching the whole proceeding.
“That was impressive.” Said Nala, who had just witnessed Simba handle a case for the first time.
“It was nothing to brag about Nala, I do this all the time, sometimes I’m not even sure of who is innocent and who is guilty.”
“Well you solved it in the end.”
“I’m going to try and get some rest as I was interrupted last time.”
Simba turned around and walked back to that same spot under the same tree he was resting underneath earlier.
***
A few moments after Simba closed his eyes…
“Sire!”
Zazu flew down to Simba and started to report another problem.
“What is it now Zazu?”
“You won’t believe it sire; someone claims to have spotted a hyena here in the Pridelands.”
“A hyena?” Simba was taken aback. “I thought they’d all fled after Scar died.”
“Apparently not your majesty, the animal that reported the sighting to me sounded pretty sincere when he said it.”
Simba sighed, would he ever be able to get a little rest?
“Lead the way Zazu.”
***
“We’re almost there sire.”
“Zazu, you’ve said that about three times already.”
“Yes your majesty, but this time I’m almost certain we’re almost there.”
‘Almost certain?’ Thought Simba.
“We’re here!” said Zazu.
Zazu had led Simba to an area north-west from Pride Rock, and not too far from the elephant graveyard.
“Zazu, you search over there and I’ll search over here.” Said Simba motioning to different parts of the area they were in.
Zazu flew up into the air, circling above the area Simba had pointed out. Simba himself had started to look in the other part.
Simba had been searching for over an hour with no luck. He had just started to contemplate if he should just lie down and have a nap when he heard Zazu’s voice yelling out to him.
“Sire, over here!”
Simba ran over to where Zazu was, expecting a fight of some sort against a hyena. Instead, Simba was greeted with a mound of rocks that looked very similar to a hyena.
“This is our hyena?” said a Simba who was clearly not amused.
“Apparently so, sire.” Replied Zazu.
“Zazu, how sure did you say the animal that reported this sighting was?”
“Well sire he said he was quite sure. And he also might have mentioned that he saw it from a fair distance off possibly meaning he could have mistaken this pile of rocks for a hyena.”
“What?”
“Did I forget to mention that sire? Whoops.”
“It’s okay Zazu; it’s not your fault. I’m just a little peeved that I spent almost two hours chasing rocks when I could’ve been sleeping.”
Simba was feeling peeved, and he was hoping that the ‘hyena’ would be the last thing that he had to take care of on that day.
***
For the third time that day, Simba walked over to the same spot under the same tree and sat down to rest, yet again, and for the third time that day, just as Simba closed his eyes, he heard a voice. This time the voice was not coming from Zazu, but from Kiara, Simba’s cub.
“Hi daddy!”
“Hi Kiara. Listen, I…”
“Can we play?”
“Kiara I...”
“Well?”
“Kiara…”
“Just say yes or no.”
“KIARA!” yelled Simba, finally losing his patience. “Sorry, but I’m feeling a bit tired right now, so no, I can’t play at the moment, but maybe later.”
“Okay.” Said Kiara.
“Now run along now. And don’t stray off the path I marked out!”
Kiara ran off, not feeling any less cheerful after hearing Simba’s rejection.
‘Finally I can get some sleep’ thought Simba to himself, so, he closed his eyes.
***
No matter how hard he tried, Simba just couldn’t sleep. He had just been sitting there for the past hour, feeling he was a bit too harsh towards Kiara. She was his only cub after all, and Simba only has so many opportunities to play with her.
Simba made a decision and stood up. Then he started walking off towards Pride Rock to find Kiara and offer an apology while he still had the chance.
It took Simba fifteen minutes to walk from his shady tree to Pride Rock. The trip would have been quicker, but Simba was in no hurry. Simba located Nala to ask where Kiara was.
“Have you seen Kiara anywhere?”
“No, I thought she was with you.” Replied Nala. “She said she was going to play with you when I last saw her.”
Simba started to feel worried. Kiara was one to stray off the beaten path, and Simba had almost lost her before.
“Zazu!” yelled out Simba.
Zazu flew towards Simba and landed on his shoulder.
“Yes your majesty?”
“No one has seen Kiara for the last hour or so, I need you to go looking for her, I can’t lose her.”
“I’m on my way sire.”
Zazu flew off and started to search for Kiara.
“What are you going to do Simba?” asked Nala.
“I’m going to look everywhere Zazu’s not, but you stay here in case she comes back.
“Okay.”
Simba ran off in the opposite direction to what Zazu was flying to.
***
“Kiara! Kiara!”
Simba’s shouts could not be missed by any animal in a 1 kilometre radius from his position. After two hours and lots of searching, Simba had not seen anything, but that was probably because he scared everything off with his shouting. Zazu flew down to Simba.
“Have you found anything Zazu?”
“No sire and I have managed to check half of the Pridelands with no sign of Kiara.”
“Where could she be? I’ve checked the other half of the Pridelands with no result either.”
“Maybe it would be best sire if we went back to Pride Rock and got the help from the lionesses?”
“That’s not a bad idea Zazu.”
Simba ran towards Pride Rock with great speed, with Zazu following closely behind.
When they arrived back at Pride Rock, they immediately went to Nala to see if Kiara had returned.
“Has Kiara come back Nala?” asked Simba.
“I’m sorry Simba.”
“Oh, this is terrible Nala, we’ve lost Kiara!”
Simba looked like he was keeping a cool head, but he was fretting on the inside. Nala and Simba were both extremely worried, when they heard a voice.
“What’s wrong daddy?”
“Kiara!” yelled both Simba and Nala.
“What?”
“We were so worried!” said Simba. “Where were you?”
“I was just asleep in the den daddy.”
“You were?”
“How could I be wrong about what I was doing daddy?”
“I guess you should have checked in the den first before you ran off Simba.” Said Nala jokingly.
“Yeah, I guess I should have done that first.” Said a relieved Simba. “Don’t ever do that again Kiara, your mother and I were both very worried about you.”
“I’m sorry daddy.”
“Ah, it’s okay Kiara.” Said Simba. “It’s just another average day in the kingdom. And Kiara, I’d like to apologise for saying no. I was just being selfish, thinking about myself more than others. I realise now that I should have put others before myself, and not been so slow to do my duty. Ah, the pressures of ruling a kingdom.”
And as the sun set over the Pridelands, Mufasa looked down at Simba and laughed, remembering how Simba wouldn’t pay attention at the ‘how to deal with the pressures of ruling a kingdom lesson’ that Mufasa gave Simba all those years ago.
Nants ingonyama bagithi baba.
***
Ever since Simba had become king, he had not had a good sleep since, well, since he had become king. He had overthrown Scar, but had been having restless nights ever since. Simba opened his eyes and yawned, blasting Nala with his morning breath.
“Ew Simba, watch where you direct that breath, there’s nothing worse than waking up to the smell of it.”
“You remind me of Timon; he used to say that a lot when we were living in the jungle.”
Simba stood up and stretched while letting out another yawn.
***
Simba walked over to a nice shady spot under a tree, and went to doze off when Zazu flew into Simba’s sight range.
“Good morning sire!” said Zazu.
“Can’t a lion get just a little sleep around here?” said Simba as he sighed to himself.
“I’m afraid not your majesty. The leopards are in a bit of a spot at the moment. They’ve just complained to me that elephants have gone and trampled their homes. I have of course told them to meet at Pride Rock for you to sort it all out.”
“Gee, thanks Zazu. What would I ever do without you.” Said Simba sarcastically.
“Well I think that without me the kingdom would be in utter chaos your majesty.”
“Did my father ever teach you sarcasm Zazu?”
Simba stood up and started heading towards Pride Rock.
***
“So we came home after a successful hunt to find our home crushed. We knew it was the elephants because we saw them nearby; they did the exact same thing to us last year! We are so hungry, they took our food too!” said a testifying leopard, claiming to have been forced out of home by the elephants.
“Objection! Did you or did you not clearly state that you returned from a successful hunt?” asked Simba, who was always the judge and defence attorney.
“I did.” Replied the leopard.
“Then why did you go without food for that night if you had caught something earlier?”
“GAHHHHHH!” yelled the leopard.
“I’ve heard enough from you leopards; let’s hear the elephant’s testimony.” Said Simba.
“We were quietly eating near the leopard’s home when we heard an almighty yell directed at us. ‘You damn elephants!’ those leopards said. We had done nothing! One of us has claimed that they even saw the leopards destroying their own homes!” said the elephant that was testifying for the herd.
After a brief pause, Simba started to talk again.
“I have found no contradictions in this elephant’s testimony.”
Simba stopped for a moment to decide his final judgement.
“I have concluded that the leopards destroyed their own homes as to frame the elephants, as the leopards could not stand to have them so close to their homes. I declare the defendants, the elephants, not guilty. The leopards will have to share their land with the elephants for as long as the elephants are there, or move to a new location. Court dismissed”
As the animals started to leave, Simba walked over to where Nala was watching the whole proceeding.
“That was impressive.” Said Nala, who had just witnessed Simba handle a case for the first time.
“It was nothing to brag about Nala, I do this all the time, sometimes I’m not even sure of who is innocent and who is guilty.”
“Well you solved it in the end.”
“I’m going to try and get some rest as I was interrupted last time.”
Simba turned around and walked back to that same spot under the same tree he was resting underneath earlier.
***
A few moments after Simba closed his eyes…
“Sire!”
Zazu flew down to Simba and started to report another problem.
“What is it now Zazu?”
“You won’t believe it sire; someone claims to have spotted a hyena here in the Pridelands.”
“A hyena?” Simba was taken aback. “I thought they’d all fled after Scar died.”
“Apparently not your majesty, the animal that reported the sighting to me sounded pretty sincere when he said it.”
Simba sighed, would he ever be able to get a little rest?
“Lead the way Zazu.”
***
“We’re almost there sire.”
“Zazu, you’ve said that about three times already.”
“Yes your majesty, but this time I’m almost certain we’re almost there.”
‘Almost certain?’ Thought Simba.
“We’re here!” said Zazu.
Zazu had led Simba to an area north-west from Pride Rock, and not too far from the elephant graveyard.
“Zazu, you search over there and I’ll search over here.” Said Simba motioning to different parts of the area they were in.
Zazu flew up into the air, circling above the area Simba had pointed out. Simba himself had started to look in the other part.
Simba had been searching for over an hour with no luck. He had just started to contemplate if he should just lie down and have a nap when he heard Zazu’s voice yelling out to him.
“Sire, over here!”
Simba ran over to where Zazu was, expecting a fight of some sort against a hyena. Instead, Simba was greeted with a mound of rocks that looked very similar to a hyena.
“This is our hyena?” said a Simba who was clearly not amused.
“Apparently so, sire.” Replied Zazu.
“Zazu, how sure did you say the animal that reported this sighting was?”
“Well sire he said he was quite sure. And he also might have mentioned that he saw it from a fair distance off possibly meaning he could have mistaken this pile of rocks for a hyena.”
“What?”
“Did I forget to mention that sire? Whoops.”
“It’s okay Zazu; it’s not your fault. I’m just a little peeved that I spent almost two hours chasing rocks when I could’ve been sleeping.”
Simba was feeling peeved, and he was hoping that the ‘hyena’ would be the last thing that he had to take care of on that day.
***
For the third time that day, Simba walked over to the same spot under the same tree and sat down to rest, yet again, and for the third time that day, just as Simba closed his eyes, he heard a voice. This time the voice was not coming from Zazu, but from Kiara, Simba’s cub.
“Hi daddy!”
“Hi Kiara. Listen, I…”
“Can we play?”
“Kiara I...”
“Well?”
“Kiara…”
“Just say yes or no.”
“KIARA!” yelled Simba, finally losing his patience. “Sorry, but I’m feeling a bit tired right now, so no, I can’t play at the moment, but maybe later.”
“Okay.” Said Kiara.
“Now run along now. And don’t stray off the path I marked out!”
Kiara ran off, not feeling any less cheerful after hearing Simba’s rejection.
‘Finally I can get some sleep’ thought Simba to himself, so, he closed his eyes.
***
No matter how hard he tried, Simba just couldn’t sleep. He had just been sitting there for the past hour, feeling he was a bit too harsh towards Kiara. She was his only cub after all, and Simba only has so many opportunities to play with her.
Simba made a decision and stood up. Then he started walking off towards Pride Rock to find Kiara and offer an apology while he still had the chance.
It took Simba fifteen minutes to walk from his shady tree to Pride Rock. The trip would have been quicker, but Simba was in no hurry. Simba located Nala to ask where Kiara was.
“Have you seen Kiara anywhere?”
“No, I thought she was with you.” Replied Nala. “She said she was going to play with you when I last saw her.”
Simba started to feel worried. Kiara was one to stray off the beaten path, and Simba had almost lost her before.
“Zazu!” yelled out Simba.
Zazu flew towards Simba and landed on his shoulder.
“Yes your majesty?”
“No one has seen Kiara for the last hour or so, I need you to go looking for her, I can’t lose her.”
“I’m on my way sire.”
Zazu flew off and started to search for Kiara.
“What are you going to do Simba?” asked Nala.
“I’m going to look everywhere Zazu’s not, but you stay here in case she comes back.
“Okay.”
Simba ran off in the opposite direction to what Zazu was flying to.
***
“Kiara! Kiara!”
Simba’s shouts could not be missed by any animal in a 1 kilometre radius from his position. After two hours and lots of searching, Simba had not seen anything, but that was probably because he scared everything off with his shouting. Zazu flew down to Simba.
“Have you found anything Zazu?”
“No sire and I have managed to check half of the Pridelands with no sign of Kiara.”
“Where could she be? I’ve checked the other half of the Pridelands with no result either.”
“Maybe it would be best sire if we went back to Pride Rock and got the help from the lionesses?”
“That’s not a bad idea Zazu.”
Simba ran towards Pride Rock with great speed, with Zazu following closely behind.
When they arrived back at Pride Rock, they immediately went to Nala to see if Kiara had returned.
“Has Kiara come back Nala?” asked Simba.
“I’m sorry Simba.”
“Oh, this is terrible Nala, we’ve lost Kiara!”
Simba looked like he was keeping a cool head, but he was fretting on the inside. Nala and Simba were both extremely worried, when they heard a voice.
“What’s wrong daddy?”
“Kiara!” yelled both Simba and Nala.
“What?”
“We were so worried!” said Simba. “Where were you?”
“I was just asleep in the den daddy.”
“You were?”
“How could I be wrong about what I was doing daddy?”
“I guess you should have checked in the den first before you ran off Simba.” Said Nala jokingly.
“Yeah, I guess I should have done that first.” Said a relieved Simba. “Don’t ever do that again Kiara, your mother and I were both very worried about you.”
“I’m sorry daddy.”
“Ah, it’s okay Kiara.” Said Simba. “It’s just another average day in the kingdom. And Kiara, I’d like to apologise for saying no. I was just being selfish, thinking about myself more than others. I realise now that I should have put others before myself, and not been so slow to do my duty. Ah, the pressures of ruling a kingdom.”
And as the sun set over the Pridelands, Mufasa looked down at Simba and laughed, remembering how Simba wouldn’t pay attention at the ‘how to deal with the pressures of ruling a kingdom lesson’ that Mufasa gave Simba all those years ago.
Submission 2:
The Pressures of Ruling a Kingdom: show
The Pressures of Ruling a Kingdom
A ray of sunlight began to intrude on the shadows of Pride Rock's den. The King's majordomo flew in through the breach of light, which managed to seep through even the darkest corners of the cave, several minutes after sunrise.
"Time to rise and shine, sire," Zazu greeted. "Today's your first day as king."
Scar yawned, stretching his paws out across the throne that was carved from rock. "Ugh... and as my first decision as king, I'm going to go back to sleep," he said, covering his eyes with his forepaw.
"No no no, sire, it doesn't work that way," Zazu replied with hesitation. "You're the king now, you need-"
"SHUT UP!" Scar demanded. "I can do whatever I want."
The hornbill twiddled the tips of his wings nervously. "Yes... sire... that's right... you're the king."
"Good. Now get out!"
Zazu wasted no time hauling his feathers as far away from Scar as possible.
Yet, as soon as the bird flew away, something else began to approach the den. Scar attempted to cover his ears with his paws as the excruciating sound of grinding rocks grew louder.
The lion nearly groaned in frustration. What could possibly have been going on outside the den to make such an awful noise? It was ridiculous.
Gradually, the vivid sunlight that coated the cave's interior began to fade. Once again, the walls of the cavern turned dark as they hid behind a shadow.
Despite the lack of a blinding light, that grinding sound still prevented the king from continuing his morning laze. He opened his eyes as his tail twitched rapidly in frustration.
"What the heck?" Scar murmured angrily. An enormous boulder was being moved directly through the entrance of his rocky shelter.
The lion tried to wipe the rheum from his eyes, while he pondered whether or not he was actually awake. It was not after long, before a familiar laugh convinced him that he was.
"Ed?" Scar asked, clearly displaying a tone of irritation in his voice.
"Eh, heh, heh, hah! Heh! Hahhh...cksch." The hyena laughed mindlessly, until he began to choke on his own saliva. The boulder, however, continued to move closer to Scar's throne.
"What is it this time?"
Scar heard his brainless minion clear his throat, after the boulder stopped moving. Subsequently, he saw the creature step around.
Ed was carrying a stick in his mouth, which he grabbed with his paw. He then used it to point to symbols that had been carved on the rock.
"Good morning, milord. Today I'd like to talk about the stability of the pridelandian ecosystem," Ed stated, inciting a reaction of surprise from the king.
The hyena continued to read aloud from what he had written hours before, starting from the very beginning. "The Stability of the Pridelandian Ecosystem - Written by Ed the Hyena, Ph.D."
Scar leaned forward, flattening his ears. "You've got to be kidding me."
Ed moved the stick he carried along the boulder as he continued to read from it. "Before we talk about the stability of our ecosystem, we first must consider what an ecosystem is. An ecosystem is a community of living organisms and their environment..."
Almost immediately, Scar's eyelids began to expand. It was hardly a matter of seconds before the hyena's lecture soared to tremendous levels of boredom.
"The stability of an ecosystem is determined by many factors, which include but are not limited to: climate, soil, and topography. But today, I will be covering how the stability of our ecosystem can be affected by your actions as king."
Scar's eyes shot open as he heard the word "king." He scratched his mane with his paw as he considered interrupting his minion. "Uh... what was that?"
"What was what?" Ed asked.
"Could you repeat what you just said?" Scar commanded.
"Oh, okay," Ed replied. He started over from the very beginning. "The Stability of the Pridelandian Ecosystem - Written by Ed the Hyena, Ph.D."
"Oh, good God..." Scar shuddered.
"Before we talk about the stability of our ecosystem, we first must-"
"Nevermind!" Scar yelled. "Just get on with it!"
Ed twisted his head to the side, until he looked at Scar with his eyes perpendicular to the horizon. "Are you sure?"
"Yesyesyes!"
The spotted hyena shifted his stick down a bit, to where it was before he was originally interrupted. "Today, I will be covering how the stability of our ecosystem can be affected by your actions as king. But first, we must briefly understand the idea behind the Lotka-Volterra equations."
Scar leaned his head back hopelessly, and his eyes fixed on a small, mundane pebble on the ground.
"The Lotka-Volterra equations are a pair of first order differential equations which represent predator and prey relationships as they evolve over time." He pointed his stick to a list of equations that he had written on the enormous boulder. "This may look like a foreign language, but bear with me for a minute..."
The lion king kicked the pebble around with his paw, amused by the fact that Ed took little notice that he wasn't actually paying attention.
"This is the exponential growth model, which represents the growth of populations x and y over time. Assuming that predator y is solely dependent on prey x, a relationship can be drawn between our two favorite animals, x and y."
The hyena continued to blabber on for several minutes. Meanwhile, a small puddle of drool began to form on the outside of the lion's mouth.
"Now, let's make the assumption that there are initially a few hundred prey in the Pridelands, and can reproduce indefinitely at a rate proportional to-"
"Ed?" Scar asked monotonically.
"Yes?"
"Please. Get out of my cave. I need to... clean my mane."
"I... ugh... can't do that, sire," Ed apologized. "I still have to explain the dynamics of the initial conditions and various other arguments of the system..."
The lion suddenly lost all of his patience. "Wrap it up. Now!"
"Okay... just bear with me here," Ed muttered, as he attempted to rotate the enormous rock. Several charts and graphs were marked on the other side.
"Shown left is a slope field of the predator-prey relationship, given the known conditions of the Pridelands under Mufasa's reign."
Scar clenched his teeth together in anger. "What did you say?"
Ed repeated himself. "Shown left is a slope field of the predator-prey relationship, given the known conditions of the Pridelands under Mufasa's reign."
Scar brought his paw up to cover his face.
"As you can see, the ecosystem converges to a point, which represents the hunters being a pride of no more than a few dozen lions, greatly outnumbered by the amount of prey."
At long last, the lion was motivated enough to walk away from his throne. He approached Ed slowly with pure hatred in his eyes.
"But, if the initial condition for y is increased to more than a hundred, which is an accurate representation of the lion-hyena coalition that has been created, the ecosystem does not converge to a specific value, without altering the initial amount of prey or their birth rate."
Scar stared at the cluelessly ignorant hyena for seconds, trying to think of a reason not to kill his worthless follower.
"We can thus assume that we're all going to die unless we import prey from Botswana, or unless our food is born pregnant. I'd guess we would need somewhere in the range of hundreds-"
"I would kill you," Scar interrupted coldly. "But I need you to get this filthy rock out of my cave."
Ed gulped, immediately dropping his stick. "And that concludes today's lecture! Tomorrow we'll discuss emigration, migration, immigration, and mitigation, and how they can interfere with the predator-prey model. If we have time I'll also cover the basics of Zebra microeconomics! See you then," Ed replied, trying to fake a cheerful tone.
The hyena used all his strength to push the massive boulder away as quickly as he could. But, before he could leave, Scar slapped him across the head violently.
"Don't you dare do this again tomorrow!" the lion hissed, spitting across the den. "I plotted to lead, not to read."
Submission 3:
So Close: show
So Close
In the care-free jungle hidden away in its own corner of the world, a most unusual trio of creatures walked together without a care in the world. One of them, a red warthog, let out a loud belch signaling of a very good meal.
The meerkat in the group turned towards the pig. “Geez, Pumbaa, how many grubs did you eat up? Leave some room for lunch!” All of this was said in a good humor, as Timon knew very well that by the time the three of them would decide that it was a good time for their next meal, Pumbaa will be ready.
“Well Timon, I always thought that it will be a good idea to eat up a little bit more, just in case I might get hungry before that! Now I know that I will not feel like I missed out on a pre-lunch snack!”
Timon grinned and hopped on top of his friend's head. “Well said, Pumbaa!” Using the warthog's head as a look-out post, Timon scanned the jungle around them for the target of their next activity. Eyes narrowed, he eyed one patch of jungle with curiosity, before looking at another place, only to return to the same patch. Yes, this was going to be a great place to be in. “Hey Pumbaa, you seeing what I'm seeing? What about you kid?” He expected a nearly instantaneous reply from the third and last member of their group, but was instead greeted with silence. “Kid?”
Timon stood straight up on top of Pumbaa's head, looking around in all directions. “Simba? Where'd you go kid?” At last, he found the lion – stuck in a tree. The meerkat's eyes narrowed in anger. “Simba, what did I tell you about climbing trees? You get down here right this instant!” He jumped off Pumbaa's head and ran over to the lion cub. “You're in big trouble now, young lion! I'm not letting you walk away free this time! Not after what you did last week!”
Not wanting to leave his friends alone, Pumbaa followed Timon over to the tree that Simba was now hanging onto for dear life, but came across a new problem: As Timon jumped up and began to climb up to the terrified cub, the warthog was once again left alone, and this time unable to follow. “I'm going to let you rescue Simba, Timon,” he instead called out, “I think I'll search for more of those nice and smiley grubs.”
He licked his muzzle in anticipation of more tasty worms and slugs and wandered off, leaving Timon to sort out the Simba trouble by himself. However, he was still quite full, and almost right away gave up on his search for grubs. Sure, they are plentiful and easy to get, but even right now, lifting up a rotten log seemed like it was more trouble than it was worth.
Feeling somewhat disappointed and not knowing what to do, Pumbaa wandered off into the jungle. Once Timon will get Simba down, they will find him in no time. But before that, didn't he always wander where did that little creak go to? He would have found out a while ago, except either the lion or the meerkat always found a reason why not to explore there. And spending time with his two best friends was always better than his own curiosity, but now that they were busy and he wasn't, the warthog found some time to indulge in his own personal tastes.
Following the small trickle of a stream, Pumbaa would hop across the rocks, purposely trying not to get wet. Water had a habit of removing the nice red layer of mud off him, and while Timon and Simba would sometimes join him whenever he would jump into the local mud-hole, they were never very keen on it.
And then the creek ended. Pumbaa stared at the small waterhole that the creek fed into, part of the boundary between the lush jungle and the golden grasses of the savanna. To be truthful, he expected something more than just this small puddle, but on the other hand, the creek was small at best.
A shadow swooped over Pumbaa, and he looked up to see a group of vultures circling over head. He smiled at the idea of bowling for buzzards, but without Timon and Simba, will it be any fun? Not to mention that Timon always knew how to keep their spirits up in the savanna: carnivore territory. Alone, Pumbaa did not feel comfortable venturing out. Not even for a quick charge at the scavengers. No, he'll go and fetch his two friends first, that will indeed be the best thing to do. After all, by now, Timon should have gotten Simba out of that tree, and-
-a bright blue beetle flew across his vision, landing on a dried up log. Eying it keenly, Pumbaa eyed the delicious looking grub with interest. Any ideas about fetching his friends quickly left the warthog, forgotten. Instead, Pumbaa pictured Simba as the cub would often try to sneak up on something to pounce, usually Timon.
Now how did the cub do his stalking? Imagining he was the lion cub, Pumbaa crouched down low, raising his back end in anticipation of a pounce. The beetle will never see it coming! Now just a little bit closer... a little bit more... Almost there...
“I've never seen a warthog try to get a beetle like that. And don't you creatures eat grass anyways?”
The beetle took flight at the noise, and Pumbaa looked up at the source of the deep voice. “Huh?” His eyes rose to something big and tannish, almost a perfect match of the color of the savanna grass. Almost as if it were a...
...A lion. And a big male at that.
Letting out an ear splitting scream, Pumbaa turned and ran into the safety of the jungle, only to trip over his own stubby legs and fall flat on the ground. Too frightened to get back up, Pumbaa whimpered as he waited for the inevitable end of sharp teeth.
“Whoa, easy there fellow! I'm not going to eat you”
The sharp teeth didn't come, and Pumbaa built up enough courage to stand back up. The lion was there waiting for him, looking like the least threatening thing in the world. “You're not?” the warthog asked, “why not?”
The lion shrugged. “I'm not hungry. And truth be told, I really miss talking to others. So I wander around and talk to whoever I could, even if they are, err... prey animals....” The lion looked apologetic at having called Pumbaa that. He then looked around nervously, as if worried that someone else might be out there. “You see,” he said, now whispering, “I don't really have a lot of time left in this world. Something terrible has happened to me, but I'm not sure what. All I know is that I would rather enjoy life as best I could before it will be my time.”
Pumbaa examined the lion more closely, and saw that the lion's body was riddled with cuts and bruises. Some looked terrible. Feeling sick, he looked away from the lion, who looked like he should have been dead several times over already.
The lion frowned when he followed the warthog's gaze. “I get that a lot,” he admitted. “I don't know what happened. All I know is that I woke up in this horrible looking canyon,and I felt like I was chopped up in many many pieces. Don't remember anything before that...” He let out a sigh. “Since then, I've been wandering around and talking to interesting looking creatures. I can feel my wounds you know... they are getting worse, not better. I don't have a lot of time left. But enough about me.” He lifted a paw and motioned at Pumbaa. “What's a warthog like you doing stalking a bug like a lion would? Although if you want my advice, you need to get lower to the ground – your tail shoots straight up, and it's as visible as the sun when you do that. So do tell me about yourself. Since when did you start stalking?”
Seeing that the lion looked harmless enough, as well as perhaps as well because of some pity for whatever hardships he certainly went through, Pumbaa sat down next to the lion. “Oh, I was pretending to be Simba. He's the one who taught me how to sneak up on things.”
“Simba?”
Pumbaa smiled. “Yeah. He's a lion cub. Timon and I found him not too long ago. He was close to death, poor fellow. But we found him, rescued him, and now he lives with us.” Pumbaa saw that the lion was giving him the most curious of looks and thought something was wrong... “Oh, Timon, right! He's a meerkat. We became friends just about as soon as we met each other, and have been together ever since.”
“But you're a warthog... living with a meerkat... and a...lion?”
“Well, a lion cub.”
The lion looked horrified. “But... aren't you afraid that he'll get hungry, and perhaps try to eat you?”
Pumbaa stared at the lion for a few moments before bursting out into laughter. Simba eating him? The nerve! “Who? Simba? Never! He's on our side! It was Timon's idea to rescue him, you know! Nah, Simba will never try to eat us! He's our best pal! Besides, he's harmless, I don't think he can harm a fly!” Pumbaa paused, thinking it out. Something felt wrong with that last phrase... “Wait, no. Simba would harm a fly because that's what he eats. But he wouldn't harm us!”
“Where is this Simba?”
“Oh, Timon's trying to fetch him. Poor guy got himself stuck in a tree again, but it's Timon who's the best climber out of all of us, so he's busy trying to get Simba down.”
The lion looked thoughtful. “Perhaps, if you could take me to them, I could help out?”
Pumbaa shook his head. “That won't work. Timon's frightened of carnivores, and just seeing you might give him a heart attack. And Simba isn't that fond of carnivores as well. We met a very small leopard once, and I think the only reason why Simba outran Timon was because he was even more scared...” Pumbaa thought for a few moments. “He is trying to be braver now, I think. Perhaps that's why he got himself stuck up there...”
The lion looked quite delighted at having heard Pumbaa's story. “I have seen a few strange things in what little I can remember, but I have to admit, you are the strangest!” He looked down at Pumbaa. “In a good way!” He quickly added. “You know, the circle of life sometimes works in very mysterious ways...”
“The circle of what?”
“Of life,” the lion replied, almost automatically. “Everything you see exists in a delicate balance. Everything – the grass, the insects, you and me, we are all connected in the Great Circle of Life.”
“Where did you hear of that?” Pumbaa asked, with a hint of wonder.
The lion looked at the ground with sadness. “I don't have a clue in the world. Must have been something I learned in... in my previous life. Before... that...” he motioned at his various wounds. “It's just that... you rescued Simba? Where did you find him?”
Pumbaa recalled the memory fondly. The day when the dynamic duo became the terrific trio. “Timon and I were thinking of calling it a day, when we saw a rather large group of vultures near the edge of this jungle. I thought that they would make the perfect game of bowling for buzzards, and initially Timon didn't want to play it, but he changed his mind soon afterwards. We charge in, bowl those buzzards around, and the next thing I know, Timon's telling me that whatever they were after was still alive. That's how we met Simba. I don't know where he came from, but when we found him, he was passes out from not having enough to drink. He was quite staring as well, but we carry him over to a waterhole and from there, he has been with us ever since.”
“Has... Simba ever told you what he was doing alone?”
Pumbaa shook his head. “Nah. The few times we tried asking, he would get very sad, and we don't like seeing him like that. Besides, hakuna matata!”
“Hama-whatta?”
“Hakuna matata! It means no worries! It's how the three of us live by! It's great. No rules, no responsibility, and best of all: no worries!”
“But what about Simba? Is living like that the best for him!”
Pumbaa nodded proudly. “Oh yes it is! Why, before he learned hakuna matata from us, he was so depressed. At one point he stopped eating, and Timon and I had to take turns forcing grubs into him just to keep him from staring himself. But now, with our tutoring, he's one jolly bundle of fur! Why, he must be the happiest lion cub in the entire planet Earth!”
The lion looked visibly more relaxed upon hearing how well Simba was doing. “Well, as long as it works for you three. Like I said: the circle of life works in mysterious ways. Perhaps it's not pure chance that you found this cub.”
Pumbaa opened his mouth to tell of another great story the three of them had experienced when Timon's voice broke through the surrounding air.
“Pumbaa! Come out, Pumbaa! And I got the kid with me! I promise I didn't yell at him too much!”
“Hey, that's Timon! And he;s got Simba!” Pumbaa then looked at the lion. “I gotta go...” he muttered. “Perhaps it will be best if you don't come with me. Like I said: they get so scared...”
The lion nodded. “You go right ahead. It's been a real pleasure to get to talk to you. A lion, a meerkat, and a warthog, huh? Most peculiar indeed. It has been a genuine pleasure to meet you...”
“Pumbaa.”
“Thank you. Yes, it was a real treat to talk to you, Pumbaa. I would normally give you my name, but I'm afraid it's a mystery to me as well. You go on now, your friends need you.”
“What about you?”
The lion shrugged again. “I'll continue on my travels for as long as I can, and when that will become impossible, I will find a nice little spot to lie down, and welcome the next stage of the circle for me.” Ever so slowly, and with visibly great pain, the lion stood up. “So long, Pumbaa.”
And with that, the great lion vanished into the golden grass.
“Pumbaa! Don't make me come searching for you, buddy! Get over here!”
The warthog tore his eyes away from where the lion had vanished off to. “”I'm coming Timon! Hang on there, Simba!” With one final glance, he turned and ran off into the jungle, towards his two best friends.
A meerkat and a lion.
Submission 4:
Of Wrath and Warthogs: show
Of Wrath and Warthogs
“Huh, sure is nice weather out here, huh, Pumbaa?”
A small meerkat tread slowly across the savannah, an ineffable and optimistic smile across his face as he walked enthusiastically across the waves of golden grass. The long stalks of foliage parted as he walked through them, several bushes rustling as he gently pushed back the green, healthy branches… which promptly swung back and hit his companion squarely in the face.
“Uh, yeah, it sure is”—he paused, spitting out several leaves—“great, Timon. Say, do you remember what I was saying about that plac—?”
“The big, pointy rock? Yep, I remember it alright, buddy! Just look at this: wide open spaces, great view, a cerulean sky all around us. It’s… it’s…”
“A little crowded, Timon.”
The meerkat jumped onto the back of his sidekick, a ruddy-colored warthog who had recently agreed to help him find his own little piece of heaven. His “dream home,” as he so often referred to it. He shaded his eyes with one of his hands, squinting to see in the blinding sunshine which was so generously spread throughout the land. Only the acacia trees served as shade in this flat landscape. Surely enough, though, there was a crowd… and they were gathered near that same big, pointy rock.
“Yeesh, you’d have thought that they’d sold out by now. I bet they’re having a rock concert, buddy. AHAHAHAHA! Get it? A rock concert? Heehee, that one gets me every time, oooh…” he patted his friend on the back, only to awkwardly notice that he was not sharing in his mirth. Alas, Pumbaa simply didn’t have the taste in puns that Timon did.
“Ahem, well then… let’s go check it out.”
“Uh, but Timon… I don’t do so well in crowds…”
“Nonsense, buddy, there’s nothing to worry about!”
He hopped off and ran through more brush, the warthog sighing and following him quietly. Indeed, he had to trot simply to keep up with Timon, who was already quite close to procession.
To his surprise—and obvious disappointment, if his wild gesticulations proved anything—it didn’t seem as though anything interesting was happening at the rock, other than some lackluster procession. He could vaguely see a mandrill lifting up some sort of small, furry animal, but he didn’t particularly want to know what it was.
“What’s that, Timon?” Pumbaa queried quietly, already having reached the outer rim of the crowd.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it doesn’t look like it’s very entertaining.” He walked forwards a few paces, trying to weasel his way through the crowd. Even he, as small as he was, had a hard time… and it was just his luck that one of the gazelles conveniently decided to plant his hoof right on the little animal’s foot.
“Ouch!” he yelled, glowering at the ungulate as he clumsily continued, clutching his throbbing foot.
“Hey, guys, I’m walking here! Get out of the way!”
Pumbaa snorted at the animal as he walked by, though his indignant expression was quickly replaced by his default, affable countenance. Alas, it was hard enough to make his way through the leopards and the cheetahs, say nothing of the large and hot-tempered rhinos, which he didn’t particularly want to mess with.
“Excuse me! Coming through! Come on! Hello, I’m back here! Can you move?”
Timon screeched, unable to move past the hulking mass of animal known as the rhinoceros… two of them stood morosely and blockaded his away, either ignorant of or careless to the small animal’s pleas behind them.
“Looks like we’ll have to go around… hmm, we could go over there, but… no… well…” the meerkat studied his surroundings absently, rubbing his chin as he thought of the best way to find passage. Pumbaa, however, was quickly distracted by his own plight.
“Uh, Timon, remember how I said I don’t like crowds very much?”
“Yeah, yeah, buddy,” he waved his hand dismissively, caught up in his thought, “look, this’ll just take one second and then we’ll be home free. This way, Pumbaa. Warthogs first.”
His hooves clacked across the packed dirt, the noise surprisingly loud considering how many animals he was surrounded by. Indeed, they were all standing cordially, waiting for something that was seemingly at the top of the adjacent rock.
“Hey, what’s up there, Timon?” Pumbaa shifted uncomfortably, looking at what appeared to be a very large, very proud, and very majestic-looking lion. As in, the top predators on the entire food chain, surrounded by what was essentially a congregation of random assorted prey animals. Needless to say, that did nothing to ease his tension, which was already running quite high. He had bad experiences with crowds, mainly due to the fact that he was a pig and pigs tend to smell… well, not that great.
Timon, however, did not seem to hear him, as he was preoccupied with problems of his own while navigating the sea of spectators.
“Watch it, buddy!”
“Puh, how rude.”
“Yeah, hello to you too, buddy.”
Several disgruntled animals interjected acerbically as the duo walked by, Timon pointedly careless to the annoyance of the other creatures around him. Only Pumbaa seemed to guiltily pay their angry words any mind.
“Uh, Timon…”
“Outta the way, ya overgrown chickens! Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you!” he shoved his way past some ostriches, before turning briefly to his compatriot. “What was that, Pumbaa?”
“Could you guys shut up? The king is speaking!”
“Yeah, either get out of here or quit being a nuisance!”
“Timon,” Pumbaa addressed the meerkat again hopefully, now absently shifting weight from side to side as he walked. It was already physically uncomfortable to be pressed so close to so many strangers, and he wouldn’t be able to control himself for very much longer.
“Well,” Timon stopped, looking miffed for the first time as he angrily placed his hands on his hips, “sorry I’m not good enough to be in your little gathering here. I’ll just keep going and look for my dream home somewhere else, thank you very much! Sayonara!”
“Timon…”
“Yeah, yeah, you great big mook, move aside!”
“TIMON!”
“WHAT?” Timon turned around to face him, his expression showing his irritation as his hand absently and uncontrollably swung outwards, slapping an innocent mouse square across the face.
Smack!
The meerkat quickly withdrew and was about to apologize to the poor fellow, only to find that he had already scattered away, seeking safety by darting about through the crowd and eventually settling a bit too close to a cheetah’s tail.
His mate, of course, clumsily tried to bat it away… but somehow managed to smack an unsuspecting gazelle square in the hindquarters. Thinking it to be some sort of attack, the gazelle jumped forwards and kicked, only for his bad aim to send his hooves flying into some other poor, unfortunate animal…
“Uh, Timon…”
“Yeah?” He suddenly looked guilty, watching as everyone around them gradually panicked and fell in uncoordinated and chaotic heaps and droves, the chain reactions of impacts spreading quickly through the densely packed area.
“This doesn’t look good.”
The meerkat looked up, only to find that most of the crowd had already dispersed and given them a wide berth. Perhaps the only good thing about their intrusion was that, for once, the desire for the animals to give the duo a wide radius was less due to Pumbaa and more due to the fact that, to name one example, a charging rhino was indiscriminately running amok around the premises. Not getting gored was a surprisingly strong incentive for them to leave, after all.
“… Agreed.”
Mufasa stood on the top of a rock, scanning the kingdom below as his newborn son was presented before the gathered kingdom. It had been an affair with much cheering and jovial feelings, but the most borin—er, I mean important, part was yet to come: the presentation speech. He had climbed to the top of the rock and basked in the light of the early morning, reveling in just how it made his awesome, golden coat gleam. After all, what was the point in grooming and maintaining such an abundance of fur if it didn’t make him look stunningly regal
on important, sunny days like this?
“Look, sire, how they bow before the royal heir!”
Zazu, his talkative hornbill assistant, interjected with no small show of smugness. The king only smiled proudly in acknowledgment—he said nothing, for it was imperative that he keep his vocal chords for the procession that was sure to come.
It was going to be pretty long.
Finally, his smile faded, and he looked back over shoulder towards where the royal audience was allowed to sit and watch the procession. The queen Sarabi was there, patiently looking onwards, with their cub in her paws. Her sister was gathered, admiring the little prince as he pawed at her nose. Even his mother, aged as she was, sat and cooed at her grandchild.
Where was his brother?
He drew his lips into a grim expression. Sure, he could be a little long-winded—granted, it was more like a lot—but why would he not want to be present at the public display of his nephew? Was he being tardy or simply and disrespectfully hedging the ceremony altogether? Why hadn’t Scar made an appearance?
Turning back to face the crowd, he began his speech, the first thirty minutes of which the author does not remember and hence has chosen to omit.
What was that? You want to know what he said about the handsome prince Simba?
Honestly, dear reader, if you were an antelope forced to stand in a tight, uncomfortable space for close to an hour amidst a bunch of sweaty, reeking, dirty savannah animals, you would feel quite differently about that. You’re welcome.
Mufasa looked down at the crowd, hoping that most of them were still awake and hadn’t drifted off yet. Alas, fortunately for him and his sense of dignity, most of them were… if only because complete pandemonium had ensued down below while he had stared at beautiful landscape of his kingdom and absently followed his train of thought.
“… and that is why this kingdom shall prosper under… what… what on earth is happening?”
He suddenly grew concerned as, seemingly out of nowhere, the animals started stirring and running into one another, snarling and growling and screeching and squawking and… oh, it was a mess.
“It looks like the animals are running away from something, sire.”
“I can see that,” he responded simply, eyes narrowing as he tried to find the source of the trouble. As far as he could see, there was no real reason for them to be afraid… though the most terrorized ones had to be, no doubt, the two figures he caught standing stock-still in the middle of the entire scene.
A meerkat and a warthog.
His eyes narrowed, and he was just about to head down the promontory when he saw that his mate had somehow beat him to it, charging at the stunned pair angrily. Indeed, the hunting party had, oddly enough, come up empty-handed today… what was wrong with eating the warthog that had all but ruined her son’s presentation?
Mufasa suddenly found himself running after her, disappearing from his place at the top of the majestic rock and jumping into the metaphorical war zone below. Alas, it would seem as though finding two animals of relatively small size would be quite difficult, but in fact it was quite simple. Namely because, as usual, Timon could not only not keep his mouth shut, but was also screaming at a volume which would put most murder victims to shame.
“PUMBAA, SHE’S GONNA EAT US! SHE’S GONNA EAT US!”
Most meerkats would resort to retreating into a hole in such a situation, but since he was far from home and absolutely abominable at digging, this was, sadly, not an option. Perhaps the only saving grace for the hapless meerkat was the fact that an ostrich—namely, the same angry individual he had called an overgrown chicken not a full five minutes before—had had just enough time in its panic to run across him and kick him.
Ostriches can kick pretty hard. And since Timon happened to be an animal with a small mass… well, his acceleration was roughly equivalent to that of a punted football. The air he got would have almost been impressive, had he not face-planted and come to rest quietly on the ground some 20 yards away. Needless to say, he needed a pretty lengthy time-out, which was exacted on him in the form of temporary unconsciousness and plenty of headaches for weeks to come.
It was not pleasant, though the now-alone and hunted Pumbaa was not much better off.
Running around aimlessly and wildly, he was hard-pressed to find any form of shelter or escape from the rapidly-gaining form of the angry queen. Finally he tripped, screaming, and was about to resign himself to his fate when the shining figure of the king leapt in front of her, his coat flashing in Pumbaa’s eyes as the sun glinted off of his muscular body.
“H-honey… what are you doing?” Sarabi stopped, her expression suddenly changing from hungry and focused to surprised and confused.
“Sarabi, dear…” he focused his gaze sternly on the pig, then looked at her with calm eyes, “you know we're forbidden from hunting during special gatherings, as the circle of life depends upon our magnanimity. It’s a grand tradition of our ancestors, in order to promote peace and tranquility in our bountiful homelands. And on this day, when the Circle turns yet again to reveal our own child, after so much time, it is all too important that we honor our newfound gift and spare the life of this innocent being.”
Pumbaa blinked.
“You’re just saying that because you want to talk to this porcine alone, aren’t you?” Sarabi sighed and cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You could have simply said that.”
“Err, well… yes,” he conceded guiltily.
Sarabi shrugged. “Well I suppose, if you really want to… I have to get back to Simba anyways. Otherwise your mom will cuddle him half to death like she did with Sara’s cub…” she walked off indifferently, leaving the pair completely alone in the savannah.
A warthog, completely alone and lying in the dirt in front of a fully-grown, muscular lion. Obviously a strange mix by any definition.
“Thank you so much for saving me, Mr. Lion. It was awfully nice of you. But, uh… have you seen my meerkat friend?”
“No, I have not. Though from what I understand, you two caused quite the stir today. Would you care to explain?”
“Uh, yeah…” Pumbaa began awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head with his hoof. “That’d be Timon. You see, he’s… we’re… not from around here.”
Mufasa’s brow furrowed, the lion clearly confused. “I see… but why did you decide to come to the Pridelands? More importantly, why did you want to see my son’s presentation?”
“Oh, we were just passing through, Mr. Lion, sir.”
“Please, call me Mufasa.”
“Mr. Mufasa. You see, uh, just wanted to find a place to live. Someone told him that there was ‘Hakuna Matata’ beyond the big, pointy rock. We didn’t mean to ruin your son’s pre—”
“Hakuna Matata?” he queried, now looking even more confused than before. “What is that?”
“It means ‘no worries’,” Pumbaa beamed, looking slightly more confident than before. “It’s what the two of us were both looking for.”
Mufasa smirked almost indistinguishably, his expression slightly amused. “Well, when you’re king, I’m afraid there is no such thing.”
“King?” Pumbaa’s eyes widened in shock, as though he suddenly realized the whole gravity of the situation. Throwing himself at the king’s paws, he recanted. “Your Majesty, I really had no idea! I apologize! Please spare me!’
“There’s no need for that,” Mufasa stated simply, withdrawing his paw. Alas, what they said about not being natives was true: everyone in the Pridelands was familiar with their glamorous golden king. There was simply not a being in the Pridelands that walked, crawled, swam, flew, or dug in its soil and did not know of the king’s name.
“But Your Royal Highness, I must! You are a king! You deserve respect.”
Mufasa chuckled. “I am a king now. But you see, friend, it makes no difference in the end. For here in the Pridelands, we have something called the Circle of Life. Have you heard of it?”
Pumbaa shook his head in the negative.
“You see, we may eat, say, warthogs, in our life. But when we die, our bodies become a part of the grass. And now, think about it… what do the warthogs eat?”
“Bugs!” he exclaimed excitedly, grinning at the lion. Perhaps that wasn’t the best example to use… “At least, not so much the slimy ones. I’m a fan of the crunchier ones myself. You know, the ones that snap in your mouth: those are the good ones!”
“… That’s not exactly what I meant…”
“Well, if you’re asking me, I’d say the best… best… flavor are the ones… that taste very piqua… piquan… pecans. Boy, I hit my head harder than I thought,” the grass rustled as Timon walked up, looking very battered and seemingly about to keel over. The fact that he had walked from his place of landing to them was a feat in itself.
“This is my friend Timon. Timon, meet—”
“AAAAH! LION!” the meerkat, still terrified and quite clearly not in his right mind, cowered behind his friend’s foreleg.
“You have nothing to fear from me, my friend.” He bent down to Timon’s level and tried to address him, though that was a largely unsuccessful endeavor. Turning back to Pumbaa, he continued. “Well, in any case, I should be off, er…”
“Pumbaa, at your service, Your Majesty!”
“Pumbaa, I wish you the best of luck in your trip for a worry-free life. Just remember that such things do not last forever.” He smiled at the pair, then turned and left as quickly as he came, his golden coat rippling in the sunlight. Pumbaa beamed inwardly, stoked by the fact that he—he, a flatulent warthog—had conversed with royalty. Alas, had he not been in such a hurry to find his Hakuna Matata, he would have liked to have… wait…
“Your Majesty!” he called out, trying to get the golden lion to turn around and acknowledge him. “Your Majesty!”
“What?” Timon yelled, obviously cranky, as he lay sprawled out by his side. “You want that lion to come back?”
“He never explained to me what the Circle of Life was…” he frowned, now wishing he had been able to learn of the secret of the lion’s beliefs. The spirit of brotherhood and equality which, quite interestingly, roamed about the land ruled by lions and yet lived in by many. Alas, this almost could have been their dream home…
“Circle of Life?” Timon asked, shading his eyes as well as he could from the sun. “Pfft, the only circles I see around here are those big, bright yellow ones flying around in the sky. The one, two, five… four… five of them. Wow, I don’t remember everything moving around this much before I passed out.”
“Uh, I don’t think you should be staring at the sun, Timon. You could damage your corneas and then—”
“Yeah, yeah, right, I could damage my corn. You’re right. Because what we should really be looking for is our dream home, don’tcha think, buddy? Let’s beat it outta this place.” He leapt up with a spry move, climbing onto the warthog’s back and collapsing onto it.
“Well, I dunno. This seems like a really nice place, Timon.”
“Nah, I don’t do so well in crowds. Do you remember that place I told you about with the waterfalls?”
Pumbaa shrugged. Actually it was he who had told Timon about the waterfalls, not the other way around… but then, he supposed it didn’t matter. Timon was right—their Hakuna Matata wasn’t going to search for itself, now, was it?
“Let’s head over there, buddy,” he called faintly, his thoughts incoherent as he buried his face into his companion’s neck and held on as the warthog picked up a trot towards the jungle.
“Listen, I don’t care… if… if we have to cross deserts, or fall off a waterfall. If we live on our own, or even adopt some sort of kid or something someday, you know, buddy? But let’s never, never, ever come back here… alright?”
So these are the four stories that were submitted for this writing contest. I hope you'll all enjoy reading them - I know I will. For the next week, you will be able to vote on which story is your favorite, and please do so. The winner of this voting round will get a special banner made by me that they will be able to display proudly, as well as have the opportunity to create a prompt for the next contest.
Voting rules are: Don't vote for yourself, and don't vote for a story that you simply know was written by a friend. Don't ask others to vote for your story either. Read each one carefully and give all the stories the same consideration before you make your decision.
Good luck, have fun, and have a great time reading the stories!
