THE STORY OF BROCK! Thank you fisher....

Ravenholdt and Twisting Nether
Fisher wrote this, posting from the realm forums.


This is a story I wrote for language arts (we had to write a short story). It was 8 pages double spaced. The majority of the story is inside jokes... and it is kind of hard to follow in the first place. There are only a few people who would understand it... but w/e. WELL DO IT LIVE. anyway... be sure to read the glossary, or you will probly be lost. Anyway...tell all your friends to read this then give me ten dollars. (P.s. tagging is really a hassle.... )


Brockscription - The art of Brockscription is a highly revered trade in which the artisan creates masterpieces with crayons from Wal-mart.
Brockart- The technical name for a piece of art made by a Brockscriptionist..
Brock City- A fictitious location where artisans of all varieties practice their arts.
Brockforge- a place in brock city.
Off Corus- means of course. Pronounced Off Core-us.
Duh - used as a general derogatory term, similar to dumb.
Elaf- an alternate spelling and pronunciation of leaf used by brock and fisher.

The Story of Brock

There once was a man named Brock. Brock was no ordinary man; Brock was duh. Brock began his life like any other man- as a newborn infant. He continued his life like any other man would- meaning he aged. Although Brock began life like anybody would, Brock would be prone to having a lifelong case of being duh.

Brock had many acquaintances during his early years. Some significant figures in his life were: Mr. Steve, Bergz Hunter, Seley Zor, Fisher, and Rhelka Bast. Brock was mainly raised by his father, Fisher, mostly because of the simple fact that his mother disappeared years ago. The only clue she had left to her fate was a maple leaf inscribed with the letters “BRB” and the crayon she had used to write this crude note. Fisher was devastated. At this point, Fisher began his career as a traveling tennis player on his doubles team with Seley Zor. Seley Zor was an expert tennis player, originally from French Canada. Seley Zor had a lovely wife named Rhelka Bast and zero lovely children who weren’t named because they didn’t exist. So since Fisher became a tennis player, he was rarely home to care for Brock. This is where Mr. Steve comes into play; Mr. Steve was Brock’s baby sitter. Even with Mr. Steve babysitting, Brock was generally alone, because Mr. Steve was too busy being bad at his job to babysit. Brock and Fisher lived in a pleasantly quiet neighborhood for the most part. It became significantly less quiet when Bergz Hunter moved in next to them. Bergz was a very passionate person, he loved shiny objects, new objects, shiny new objects, animals, and projectile weapons. Bergz was an expert archer, and the proud owner of far too many pets. One major flaw that Bergz had was a lack of transportation; he would always have Fisher take him to town when he needed to buy more arrows or food for his pets. Fisher eventually began to secretly despise Bergz for his incessant rambling.

Brock was a strong child, with a strong stomach for delicious foods and objects. Brock didn’t talk a lot, but when he did, it would generally be what equates to capital letters. When Mr. Steve gave Brock a crayon and paper, Brock drew a Canadian flag because favorite food is leaf; and because favorite food is leaf, he then ate the paper because he is duh, and then ate the crayon because he is Brock. This is when Brock first discovered he had a taste for crayons from Wal-Mart and leafs from maple trees- otherwise known as maple leaves; but Brock did not like the plural form of leaf, so he just calls them elafs because it i s easier to say. Brock spent more than 10 years of his life dining on crayons and elafs and drawing Canada flag and drinking elaf tea brewed in melted crayon from his “<3 Canada” coffee mug.
Brock staunchly continued this lifestyle until his early teen years. He did not go to school, but he did have a small amount of intellect at his disposal. Using this small collection of knowledge, he eventually came to realize that since he is Brock, he is inherently duh. This discovery was devastating to Brock, but as he thought about it, it made sense. Brock ate crayons from Wal-Mart, ate “maple elaf meat”, and communicated through capital letters; these were all classic symptoms of being duh. Brock, however, did not want to be duh. One day, he said aloud to himself,
“WHY EAT CRAYONS FROM WAL-MART AND MAPLE ELAF MEAT? WHY NO EAT FOOD THAT REAL AND NOT CRAYON THAT WAX? WHY CRAYON? WHY ELAF? WHY BROCK?” By this, of course, he meant that he is tired of eating crayons and elafs and being duh, but to become less duh would entail a serious change in lifestyle. Brock loved to eat his crayons from Wal-Mart and his maple elaf meat, and didn’t really do much else. He then came to the conclusion that he should come to peace with the crayons and elafs. He thought long and hard for a constructive use for crayons, but did not come to any valuable conclusions for quite a while. He became quite irrate and began pacing furiously. Being Brock as he is, this20pacing eventually led to falling, and this falling expressly led to Brock knocking a photograph off of a nearby coffee table. He hastily picked the photograph up and replaced it. Once the photograph had been replaced, he examined it briefly. It was a picture of Fisher giving brock a box of crayons in an elegant cardboard box. Seeing the picture again for the first time in years brought a feeling of nostalgia into Brock’s heart. He remembered stories his father used to tell about the ancient art of brockscription, since Fisher’s tennis partner happened to be married to a very proficient brockscriptionist. Fisher even kept a few of these wonderful brockscriptions around the house. Then he was stricken with a sudden impulse, “I WANT TO MAKE BROCK ART ” he exclaimed. It was then Brock thought back to when Mr.. Steve first gave him crayon and paper- when he drew Canada flag. Suddenly, he came to a realization, “BROCK DRAW CANADA FLAG CUS FAVORITE FOOD IS ELAF. MAYBE NOW BROCK DO BROCKSCRIPTION WITH CRAYON CUS CRAYON IS FOR FUN, NOT FOR FOOD.” And that’s how he began his life as a BrockScription artist. Less than a minute after realizing what he wanted to do with his life, Brock realized there was a flaw, “NONO BROCK IS DUH IF CRAYON IS FOR DRAWING, WHAT IS FOR EATING CRAYONS?” Then, his father, Fisher, entered the room, “NONO BROCK, MY FRIEND NO WORRY CUS CRAYON FROM WAL-MART IS FOR DRAWING, ELAF FROM MAPLE TREE IS FOR CANADA, BUT OREO20COOKIE FROM STORE IS FOR EATING.” he calmly explained. Brock was in shock, “FISHER MY FRIEND RETURN FROM FRENCH CANADA ? ? ? ALLO ” said Brock with an exaggerated wave. “ALLO BROCK,” replied Fisher flatly. “FISHFATHER I NEED HELP. BROCK IS TOO DUH TO USE CRAYON FOR BROCKSCRIPTION, BUT NEED TO MAKE BROCKART FOR NEW ELAF,” he cried desperately. Fisher stood in quiet contemplation for a moment before speaking, “NO WORRY MY FRIEND BROCK BECAUSE, MY FRIEND, FISHER IS NOT BROCK, BUT, MY FRIEND, FISHER DOES KNOW THE ART OF BROCKSCRIPTION MY FRIEND. MY FRIEND BROCK, BROCKSCRIPTION CANNOT BE TAUGHT TO BROCK BECAUSE BROCK IS DUH.” Brock was devastated. “NONO MY FRIEND ” he exclaimed frantically, “BROCK MUST DO BROCKSCRIPTION TO MAKE BROCKART BECAUSE BROCK IS DUH AND CRAYONS ARE FOR BROCK ART. BROCK SO DUH. BEING DUH IS BAD FOR BROCK ” Fisher thought silently for a moment before his reply, “MY FRIEND BROCK, MY DEAR FRIEND BROCK. USU BROCK INDEED. MY FRIEND, BROCK, YOU WERE SO DUH WHEN I LEFT, BUT YOU GROW LIKE A MAPLE ELAF MEAT TREE SEED, MY FRIEND. THE PATH OF A BROCKSCRIPTIONIST IS LONG, BUT, MY FRIEND, BROCK, YOU HAVE GAINED SO MUCH SPIRIT AND INTELLECT LIKE NO OTHER. REST NOW MY DEAR FRIEND BROCK, FOR TOMORROW YOU WILL PACK YOUR CRAYONS AND ELAFS TO GO TO BROCK MOUNTAIN, WHERE YOU WILL LEARN BROCKSCRIPTION IN THE GREAT COLONY OF BROCKFORGE .” Brock wentto sleep, anxiously awaiting his journey to become a brocks criptionist.
KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN,” whispered Fisher as the pair passed the Hunter estate. They had almost gotten past the Hunter estate when Brock suddenly stopped for no apparent reason and yet out a loud yelp. “ARE YOU DUH? ” cried Fisher with desperation. It was then they both realized what had happened; Brock had run into Bergz’s black tiger, as it was hidden in the shadows. “RUNNNNNNNN ” screamed Fisher, but he was too late; Bergz was on his way out. “Sup bro.” Bergz said as he approached. He halted abruptly upon reaching his two neighbors. “Those are some sick gloves you got there bro.” he said admiring Fisher’s purple gloves. “I HAVE PURPLE GLOVES BECAUSE I AM TOP 10 TENNIS PLAYER MY FRIEND, U DUH SO NO GLOVES.” he replied angrily. “Yeah bro, I feel ya.” said Bergz completely disregarding Fisher’s comment. He continued to say, “You know I got new archery gloves recently, but I am not sure if they are better than my old ones. My old gloves match all my other stuff, but these new ones have a better feel...” “USU DUH ” interupted Fisher. “ALL YOU EVER DO IS TALK ABOUT NEW OUTFITS AND WEAPONS AND TAKING CARE OF PETS. YOU STAND HERE LIKE “HM BRO I GOT THESE NEW GLOVES BECAUSE I DON’T NEED THEM, BUT THEY ARE BETTER THAN MY OLD ONES OR MAYBE THEY AREN’T. HM” YOU ARE A LITTLE DUH IN THE HEAD.” After saying th is, Fisher motioned Brock and they continued towards their destination. “BRO WAIT ” screamed Bergz frantically. “I think your house is on fire ” It was. “BROCK CARES ” remarked Brock with a heavily sarcastic tone. Then Fisher added, “WHEN YOU PLAY TENNIS LIKE PRO HOUSE IS NOTHING BUT EMPTY WALLS AND MELTED CRAYONS,” he said without turning back. “BYE BYE FAILBERGZ HUNTER.” he said angrily. As usual, the comments went right over Bergz’s head. “BRO I GOT THIS ” he roared as he picked up his bow ran towards the burning house. He thought to himself, “If I shoot arrows at the ceiling, the fire should go out.” So he ran into the burning house and lined up a shot as the fire continued to grow. Within the next couple of minutes, he had run out of arrows, so thinking quickly, he ran back to his house to get more. On the way back to Brock’s house, he saw a group of firefighters getting ready to extinguish the flames from the outside. As he reenters the house, he turns back to shout at the firefighters, “Bro I got this I’m the best archer ever.” Ignoring their puzzled looks, he heads back into the building with hopes of continuing his meaningless endeavor. In an effort to save time, he begins shooting while walking; that was his first mistake. His second and final mistake was walking into the heart of the blaze while his attention was diverted. And that is the last anybody saw of Bergz Hunter.
The trip to Brock Mountain was much longer than anyone had expected. After 5 years of travel, Brock was nearly an adult and Fisher was weary from all the traveling. During this journey, Fisher had recounted the basics of Brockscription to Brock. As they traveled, Fisher told Brock more and more about the history of Brockscription,“LET ME TELL YOU A STORY, MY FRIEND, BROCK,” he said wearily. He continued, “IT WAS MORE THAN 9000 YEARS AGO WHEN BROCKSCRIPTION BEGAN. IT ALL BEGAN WITH A MAN NAMED BROCK, JUST LIKE YOU. BROCK WAS A CRAYON MERCHANT LIKE ANY OTHER, JUST MAKING A LIVING MY FRIEND, BUT NOBODY BUY HIS CRAYONS BECAUSE WAL-MART SELLS CRAYONS FOR CHEAPER AND WAL-MART SELL CRAYOLA CRAYON FOR QUALITY. SO ONE DAY, BROCK ENTER QUALITY PROFESSION STORE AND BUY CRAYOLA CRAYONS. BROCK WANTS TO TEST CRAYONS TO SEE WHY PEOPLE LOVE CRAYOLA CRAYON FROM WAL-MART, BUT BROCK WAS TOO POOR FOR PAPER BECAUSE HE WAS TOO DUH TO SELL CRAYONS, SO BROCK WRITE ON MAPLE ELAF. IT WAS THEN THE CRAYONS COME TO LIFE, BECAUSE THESE CRAYOLA CRAYONS WERE MAGIC, MY FRIEND. HE NOW BEGINS TO DRAW IN MID AIR. WITH MAGIC CRAYON HE BEGINS TO DRAW AND MAGIC CRAYON DRAWINGS TURN INTO MAGIC BROCKART. WITH GREEN CRAYON BROCK DRAW PLANT OF LIFE. THEN WITH RED CRAYON HE DRAW RED HUNTER CUS HUNTER RUN INTO FIRE LIKE HE DUH. AND WITH BLACK CRAYON HE DRAW SHADOW. AND BROCK ALSO DRAW MANY MORE COLORED BROCKART BECAUSE MY FRIEND BROCK HAS MAGIC CRAYONS. AND THAT’S HOW BROCKSCRIPTION CAM E TO BE.” As Fisher recounts the story of brockscription to Brock, the young aspiring artist, gains a deeper understanding of life and all that it entails. Hearing the story of the first brockscriptionist gives Brock the motivation he needs to push on through the rest of the journey. Fisher, however does not share his drive. “MY FRIEND, I HAVE TAUGHT YOU ALL I CAN, AND I THINK NOW YOU ARE READY TO GO TO BROCKFORGE AND MEET YOUR DESTINY,” he said with a kind resolve. Brock was stunned. He managed to stammer, “Off corus, my friend.” They stood silently for a moment. Fisher suddenly says, “BYE BYE BROCK ” with a wide smile then disappears off the trail.
Three short days later, Brock stands at the threshold of Brock City. He looks around the beautiful City of Brock with overwhelming joy. “I finally made it,” he says with a smile. Brock then continues into the city to learn the trade of brockscription, and spends the remainder of his life making Brockart and teaching aspiring Brock artists.


A short story by Ryan Dudley, MAP Scholar.

Thank you fisher! <3

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