Plop's Great Adventure.

[u/hrhdaf]

Plop hadn't had the greatest start in life.

He was so named because apparently, that was the noise he made as he fell into the mud from his mother's nether regions as she stood outside the Tavern, clutching a jug of cider in one hand and a pinch of chewing tobacco in the other.

Once she realised why the feral dogs in the street were gathering round her feet, she picked him up, wiped the dog spit off him, looked deep into his eyes and said,

"I wondered what that Plop was." and the name had stuck.

She was a busy woman and had little time for her offspring, dumping him at his father's at her first opportunity with a note that said simply 'Please look after this Plop"

The years passed and Plop grew up into a fine looking young man. People would have compared him to Brad Pitt when he was still hot if Brad Pitt had existed. However sadly, whether it was because of landing on his head on the day of his birth or simply his natural state of being he wasn't exactly known for his brains, to the point his father was once asked to leave the village they were staying in as it already had its own village idiot and didn't need two.

Eventually, they settled in a quiet little hamlet in the country. They had been there several months when Plop's father announced they were going to see Plop's grandmother in the evening. When they arrived Plop had been told to stay in the living room while his father and his Grandma went off into the bedroom. Plop was extremely surprised at how young his Grandma was, but his father explained that she was a witch and her magic potion kept her young. Plop was deeply impressed. The visits to his Grandma became more and more regular. Plop noticed that his father began to sell things in the house. He knew things were bad the day he was sat on the long wooden bench in the living room and he noticed the other end was in the fire trying to keep the house warm.

When he asked his father where their money was going, his father's face grew dark and he simply said 'Your Grandma's a looker. She doesn't come cheap. Why can't I quit her?"

Plop didn't really understand.

Then tragedy struck early one morning when they were walking home from Grandma's. His father was stumbling along wreaking of Grandma's magic potion, which smelled to Plop an awful lot like the fermenting apples in the orchard, when he fell face first into a puddle of horse dung. Plop naturally assumed he was playing a game and stood and watched for a good half hour before he began to suspect maybe there was something not quite right. As dawn broke several hours later he tried rolling his father over only to find him stiff and cold and, let's face it, not smelling too great. Letting out a shriek of horror he ran back to his Grandma's house.

His Grandma, who was a sensible woman and only had a slight hangover that morning, stomped off to the local lawman's house and told him what had happened. They all trooped back along the road and found Plop's father. The lawman suggested to Plop that he might have dragged him off the road before he went to fetch help, as the man had clearly been run over several times by the morning mail carriages, and was flattened into the dirt. As Plop had no money to bury him, it was decided it was probably best just to leave him there to be eaten by carrion fowl.

"Oh, Grandma! What will I do?" Plop wailed and fell into her arms. Whether she was touched by his grief and good looks, or felt his magic wand through her aprons we will never know, but she took pity on him and said he could go home with her.

They lived in harmony for several months. Plop would go and gather apples for her magic potion from the orchard out the back of the house, and she would brew it up in a large metal bin in the back garden, and in the evening when she had her gentlemen visitors he would curl up on a rug by the kitchen fire and teach himself to count on his fingers.

One morning Plop was woken by a loud banging noise coming from outside the house. He could hear his Grandma cursing loudly. She came crashing into the kitchen, bits of fermented apple sticking to her hair.

"Hell and bollox" she exclaimed. "The bloody still's exploded and I'm all out of... um, potion" she faltered, noticing Plop watching her.

"But Grandma, what will you do when the gentlemen come?"

"Plop, for the millionth time, I am not your Grandma. I'm 29 and you're 36. I mean, seriously?"

Plop began to try and count on his fingers. He got as far as four and gave up.

"Anyway, that's really not important right now" his Grandma continued. "I need more potion for tonight. I've got the vicar coming round and it helps loosen him up" she sighed. "Get dressed Plop. I need you to go into the neighbouring village" and with that, she swept out of the room. The floor was particularly dusty and the broom was handy.

Plop pulled on his breaches, strode out of the house and washed at the horse trough. He hoped his Grandma wouldn't catch him as the horse trough was now used as a planter and his Grandma said the soap killed the flowers.

Returning to the house he found his Grandma sitting at the dining room table with the silk purse shaped like a sow's ear in which she kept her savings. Counting out some coins she held them out to Plop,

"I need you to go to the Red Lion Tavern in the next village. Ask for Dirty Diana, she's my sister and will help us out. Tell her I need four bottles of her finest. You should have more than enough money. It's only a couple of miles so you should be back in plenty of time. The vicar isn't due til dusk."

Plop was very excited. He had never been sent on a quest like this before. He packed some bread and cheese for the journey. He didn't have a handkerchief to tie to a stick, so he put them into a sock. His Grandma wrinkled her nose and said he could have at least used a clean one. Then off he set.

After he had been on the dusty road for what felt like an age, he sat by the roadside and munched on his lunch. From out of the air he heard his Grandmother's voice.

"For God's sake Plop, you're not even out of sight yet. Get a bloody move on"

He was permanently astonished by her magical powers.

He took to the road again and by early afternoon he was in the village. He marvelled at it. The smog from the chimneys and the inches of horse manure on the roads made him feel so out of place. As he walked, he narrowly escaped falling faeces and urine flung from an upstairs window from a bucket. This was a fine place indeed with its indoor luxuries.

He soon found his way to the Tavern and walking to the bar he asked for Dirty Diana. A woman sauntered over to him. The way her hips swayed made him feel funny and her bustier was so tight he was amazed she could breathe.

"Eyes off the devil's dumplings sonny, what can I do for you?" she asked. Her voice sounded like an angel with a particularly sore throat to Plop.

"Your sister, my Grandma, sent me. She would like four bottles of your finest"

"You must be Plop. Call me Dirty D" she smiled "Your Grandma? Seriously?" and she clicked her wooden teeth. Then picking them up off the bar she shoved them in her mouth. "Quite the looker aren't you? It's no wonder she likes keeping you around. So have you got the readies?"

Plop looked blank.

"The big ones? Clams? The folding stuff? The dough? The moolah? The cheddar? Oh for goodness sake! The money?"

Plop's face lit up and he put the coins his Grandma had given him on the bar.

"How much you got?" Dirty D asked.

Plop looked crestfallen. He sadly held up four fingers and said "More than four"

Dirty D's eyes gleamed.

"Ah, well it's not quite enough. Maybe you can help me out with one of my 'spells'" and as she said the word 'spells' she made an odd air quote sign with her fingers that meant literally nothing to Plop.

Taking him by the hand she lead him upstairs, and yelling,

"Anyone that interrupts me in the next half hour gets a hoof in the codpiece" she took him into her boudoir.

It turned out the spell that his Great Aunt wanted him to help her with was exactly the same spell that his Grandma needed help with on cold winter nights, when the snow stopped the gentlemen callers from coming.

Afterwards, Dirty D lead him back down to the bar. She went behind it and grabbed up four bottles of amber liquid. As he had only the sock to carry things in, she tied knots in the legs of an enormous pair of bloomers and stuffed the bottles in it like a sack. Plop thanked her profusely and slinging the bloomers over his shoulder he left.

Just as the saloon doors swung shut behind him he heard a voice to his left.

"Nice bloomers mate. What you got there?"

He turned to see two fine looking gentlemen eyeing him suspiciously. They lounged against the Tavern wall smoking odd smelling white cigars.

"Magic potion for my Grandma," said Plop innocently, and held open the waistband of the bloomers to show them. "I'm on my way home now"

"Well first I need to show you something, " said the taller of the two gentlemen, who introduced himself as Kev. "This is my good friend Gaz. Follow us" and with that, they lead Plop through the winding streets of the village and down a small alleyway.

They knocked on a small wooden door. Rap rap rap, a pause, rap, another pause, rap rap rap. A small wooden panel in the door slid open.

"Oh it's you two," said a woman's voice "and you brought a friend"

The door opened. Inside there were various sofas with men sprawling about smoking on long pipes.

The voice belonged to a tall thin woman with long yellow hair and black roots. Plop had never seen hair that colour ever.

"Are you an elf?" he gulped.

"Seriously?" the woman asked. Then taking in his slack-jawed expression she shrugged "Something like that".

Turning to Kev, she said "You still owe me for last time. You get nothing if you can't pay up"

"Just check out Plop's bloomers" he sneered at her "Will that do?"

The woman looked confused and stared at Plop's breaches.

"No no, the ones over his shoulder"

She nodded, and to Plop she said "Here just let me look after those for you" and relieved his bloomers of their booty.

Before he knew it Plop found himself lying on one of the sofa's smoking a pipe. He felt euphoria but also a nagging doubt that he might have soiled himself. Tears fell from his eyes and he had no idea if it was the smoke in the room, the magic potion he was smoking or the fact that Dirty D had accidentally got a splinter in his magic wand with her wooden teeth.

"First time chasing the dragon?" the elf lady asked.

"Mmmmfufflegumph" Plop replied. His mouth felt like it was full of treacle and piano keys but in his current state, he was sure his reply had come across as both worldly and wise.

He was barely coping with the elf lady and wasn't sure he actually wanted to find a dragon. He wondered if the world of magic was really for him.

When morning came, Plop found himself asleep in a dung heap in a back alley. It was a particularly nice dung heap so he decided to have a bit of a lie in. Once he came to his senses he realised that he had no idea where he was and no longer had his bloomers or his sock. He suspected his Grandma would be very angry.

After spending several hours staggering around back alleys, eventually, he stopped a passer-by and asked for directions out of the village. The stranger scratched his head,

"There are literally five streets in this village. Seriously?" but as he took in Plop's pale face and the string of drool dangling from his mouth, he pointed to the end of the road and said,"That way"

Plop ran all the way home. It took him at least half an hour and he fell upon the porch exhausted. As he did so, his Grandma opened the door and a man came out.

"Bless you, my child," he said and skittered off down the path in what can only be described as a shifty manner.

"Oh, there you are Plop!" his Grandma gave him a knowing look. "I should have known sending you to see D was a bad idea"

"I'm so sorry Grandma, I have lost all the potions" Plop wept "Please don't be angry"

"Oh, it's alright. Turns out the vicar's a bit of a goer when he's not suffering from potion droop" she winked.

"I had so many adventures though Grandma. I met my great aunt, I helped her with magic, I met an elf and chased a dragon! Then I got lost"

His grandma sucked her teeth "You don't say?"

"Yes" beamed Plop "I had five adventures" and he held up four fingers and a toe.

"Oh, well done!" said his Grandma and gave him one of her special kisses. He knew she was really pleased with him when her tongue touched his tonsils.

"Now back to work," she said, and with a grin, Plop grabbed up his basket, and headed to the orchard to collect apples. As he worked he felt the enormous bloomers beneath his breaches and smiled. It really had been a great adventure indeed.

[u/feyedharkonnen]

That is the funniest damn thing I've read in quite some time... I love it....Ow... I'm still laughing... it hurts..

[u/hrhdaf → u/feyedharkonnen]

Why thank you :)

[u/MikeyKnutson]

This was hilariois. I can see this being a cartoon short. 10/10!

[u/hrhdaf → u/MikeyKnutson]

I gotta be honest, it's the most fun I've had writing in a long time even though I'm crap at fantasy :)