The Adventures of Rodney Peete

EPISODE ONE: CHAMBER OF THE RIPE PALADIN

Introduction:

Long Ago there once lived a happy little band of Eskimos in the land we today call Greenland. The Eskimos lived in a realm of complete harmony and peace with their arctic surroundings, untainted by the plunderers and crazy white man that lived in the far of lands of Europe and Asia. It was a realm of complete Utopia, where everyone knew your name and no wars were fought. However, that all would soon change.
One dark and snowy night, a ship carrying armed warriors from a distant world arrived in search of villages to raid and settlements to destroy. After searching for some time in the bitter cold, these Vikings, as they were called, came across a some cluster of lighthearted Eskimos. The cruel Vikings crushed the unsuspecting village into the dust, not leaving one person alive or building standing in their wake.
Realizing that these crackers were ruthless and evil, the Eskimos decided they must do something to stop these insane monsters. They turned to the greatest warrior amongst them, whom some called Daulfus, others just called him the Great Eskimo Warrior. Daulfus was not tall, but he was by far the fattest Eskimo to walk across the frozen terrain of Greenland. He did not wear armor, but was protected by several thick layers of fat. Despite his massive body size, he was quicker than an arctic hare and more beastly than any predators.
With their warrior awakened and ready for war, they set out to rid their peaceful land of snow and ice of the Euro-trash invading their lands. Many of the Vikings laughed as they saw Daulfus approaching them, for he was not carrying any weapons that they could see. But he indeed had two powerful weapons, his bare hands. Hands that had crushed the skulls of many polar bears who wandered to closely to his home.
Not knowing of their opponent’s great strength, the Vikings charged with their swords drawn. The approximate forty-one Vikings sliced and diced until their arms could slice and dice no more, and to their displeasure each blow had just bounced off Daulfus’s padded body. After exhaustion overwhelmed the Vikings, Daulfus attacked them, viciously snapping their bones and tossing them like a snow ball.
As GEW (or the Great Eskimo Warrior) disposed of the Vikings at an alarming rate, a young Viking picked up a rock and launched it at Daulfus’s face. Unaware of the projectile streaming toward his face, Daulfus raced his chubby arms in triumph thinking he had defeated his despicable foes. As he began to rejoice, the rock crashed into his right eye and mushed it like a wine maker stomping on his grapes.
In an extreme discomfort and unable to see, GEW stumbled back into his ranks. Eventually the puny little Eskimos were overwhelmed without the help of their great warrior and were overrun by the madmen of the sea. The defeated Eskimos retreated into the mountains, with about three hundred men carrying their fallen warrior.
Daulfus never recovered from his wound, and on his death bed he swore that he would one day arise and have revenge on the nomads of the sea. After he died, the Eskimos buried him in a secret tomb somewhere in the mountains of Greenland, and it is rumored that if his tomb he disturbed he would awaken and reek havoc on the world.
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There I stood in the middle of nowhere, freezing my buns off in the mountains of Greenland, searching from some dead warrior who had ceased to exist a long time ago, wishing for a cup of hot coffee to warm my chilled bones, and a club to bash Pierre’s puny French brains
The entire trip thus far, Pierre had done nothing but complain. To make it even more annoying, he was doing it in French. After listening to him rant and rave, I realized why the Germans conquered France so fast in World War II, they were tired of hearing there mouths.
“Are we there yet? My little toes are frozen,” said Pierre in his accent, “Why couldn’t we have taken a helicopter or a snow mobile? Instead of walking a this way,...” He then began to mutter some words in his native tongue.
Having enough, I grabbed that blabbering buffoon by the shirt collar and lifted him clear off the ground. “Listen up, little peon,” I said, getting right in his face. Immediately I regretted doing that, for his foul breath was enough to gag a sanitation engineer. “If you don’t stop speaking I am going to smash in your ugly face!”
“Big L,” said the Great Rodney Peete.
“Yes,” I answered, enthralled by how graciously the words followed from him and his even more awing elite noble stature
“Leave him alone,” said Rodney Peete, “he maybe needed on this adventure.”
At this moment I was stuck between a rock in a hard place. I had to choose between beating the ever loving brains out of the Frenchman and displeasing Rodney Peete. Deciding that it would be unwise to upset Rodney, and have him release his balls of fury upon me, I would vent my anger until another time.
“Ha, you didn’t not want to mess with me, I am too tough for you, piece of American trailer park trash” taunted Pierre. I strongly fought the urge to hit him in his trash talking mouth, but I was going to wait for a better opportunity. If there was one thing I had learned from history class, it was that the French always found ways to get themselves into trouble.
We continued tracking on the seemingly never ending, freezing cold, rocky mountain path with Rodney Peete at the helm, leading us ever closer to the lost tomb of Daulfus, the Great Eskimo Warrior. Every so often, Rodney would stop at look down at a map with strange writing on it, unknown symbols that I, more or less anyone, had never seen before. I was dazzled by his ability to read such things without if even stopping to think.
Finally we stopped outside the entrance of a dark cave. On the outside above the entrance were symbols that were similar to the one on the map. They appeared like this: Tomb of the Great Eskimo Warrior
“What do those symbols say?” I asked Rodney Peete.
“Big L,” chills went down my spine as he spoke my name, “they say: Tomb of the Great Eskimo Warrior.” I went forward to enter the dark cave, but Rodney Peete stopped me, aware of some unknown danger. “There is a drop off at the entrance of this tomb, how far it drops, I don’t know.”
Pierre walked up to the edge and tried to peep down, but it was too dark to see anything, so it was completely pointless. Then an idea hit me as he was standing there. I quickly walked up behind that peon and gave him a little shove. He fight to keep his balance for a few seconds, but his pot belly caused him to fall forward into the dark unknown. I heard him crash into the ground only a few seconds later and, to my disappointment, Pierre moan signifying he was still alive. At least we now knew there was only a five foot drop down into the cave.
The heroic Rodney Peete once more stunned me as he dropped into the cave, undismayed by the pressing darkness and the eerie silence of the unknown lair. Ashamed of my own cowardice, I quickly followed behind him.
Amazingly in the pitch black, Rodney Peete found a torch, lighting it in a matter seconds. He lead us down a path between two walls of solid rock. The sound of critters scattering and scurrying around, trying escape the approaching light echoed throughout the tomb, giving me the willies.
As Rodney lead us fearlessly down the path, we came to massive room. The torch revealed ancient pottery and, much to our delight, treasures lining the walls on the right and left. We rushed toward the piles of gold and silver, unaware of the door in front of the room and the inscription written above it.
Pierre attempted to run and take most of the share for himself, but I was not going to be outdone by such a filthy lowlife as him. I quickly raced toward him, but his French legs (which were used to fleeing from enemies) carried him much quicker. Doing the only thing I could, I dove at him.Luckily I grabbed him by the hood of his coat and pulled him down. Triumphantly I grabbed as much of the goodies as I could.
Rodney calmly and graciously walked over to the treasure and began taking his share. As if meant to be touched by his hands, the precious articles seemed to simmer all the brighter as he touched them. Suddenly the joyous moment, my greed, and the stuffing of treasure into my pockets stopped as the room began to violently shake. Rodney, knowing exactly what to do in such a situation, looked to the inscription of the door. It said: Tomb of Daulfus, Please Do Not Take His Precious Riches, for he will need them in the afterlife. If your stupid and do, strange and terrible things will happen to you.

“Tomb of Daulfus, Please Do Not Take His Precious Riches, for he will need them in the afterlife. If your stupid and do, strange and terrible things will happen to you,” translated Peete, reading it as if it were English.
The room began to shake even more violently and the closed door underneath the inscription was now open. The torch began to flicker and burn, as a quick swirl of wind rushed past me.
“What is happening?” cried the terrified Pierre.
Being the smart eolic that I am, I answered, “Strange and terrible things.” Unaware of the supernatural happenings and the severity of the danger, Pierre did what most of his country men did in a time of crisis, he turn and ran back down the way came.
Not seeing the massive one-eyed fat dead freak standing in the way, Pierre bounced off its badly decomposed blubber, sending him crashing to the floor. The dead dude grabbed Pierre by his throat and lifted him clear off the ground.
Realizing our companion’s danger, I began to laugh hysterically. Watching Pierre’s legs kick wildly, trying to escape the grasp of his certain doom, and his constant gasps for air, were too much. My sides ached for laughter.
“Put him down, chubby” said Rodney Peete. Amongst the tears that were filled in my eyes, I saw Rodney standing their staring down the beast in a radiant defiance. Raising his arm, Rodney motioned the freak to bring it.
The thing dropped Pierre like the doctor should have when the fruitcake was born, and charged to Rodney Peete, shaking the ground as he ran. As it neared our hero, it let out an awful and terrifying roar.
Rodney Peete stood there, undaunted by the beast, ready to engage in the epic battle that was to come. Reaching into his back packet, Rodney pulled out a football. It was at that moment, I knew what he was doing. He was going to unleash the balls of fury.
As the creature got within two feet, Rodney launched the ball, to my amazement the sticking carcus swiftly swatted it away. Our hero was now in some serious trouble.
Unafraid of the colossus terror, Rodney Peete began to grapple the decayed blob. Rodney’s massive arms looked like pine needles in the grasp of the one-eyed monster, as they danced around the room, battling for position. Daulfus (I have run out of cool names to describe the evil villain) lifted Rodney of the ground and tossed him to the ground. As he crashed to the earth, Daulfus brought his massive leg down on our hero’s unprotected chest.Trying to regain the air in his lungs, Rodney was unable to protect himself as GEW (that is Daulfus) lifted him off the ground and threw him into the rocky wall.
After regaining himself, Rodney struggled to his feet. Blood poured down his face from the impact with the wall as he steadied himself for Daulfus’s next attack. Daulfus charged at Rodney once more, but this time as he neared, Rodney leaped over him and sent Daulfus runnning into the wall.
As GEW now struggled to regain himself, Rodney Peete reached with both hands into both of his back pockets. He was going for the balls of fury with both hands and when Daulfus turned to face him once more, Rodney let both balls go, reaching back into his pockets and preparing another set. He continuously bombarded GEW with a deadly volley of pigskins. Finally one ball zoomed and struck Daulfus in his one good eye.
GEW let out an agonizing roar as blood and liquids streamed from his crushed eye. His whole body began to shake, as if he were urinating on an electric fence, and then suddenly Daulfus exploded. The catastrophic force knocked us to the ground and caused the entire tomb to begin shake.
Rodney, seeming unexhausted from his recent squabble, grabbed Pierre and ran toward the cave exit with the tomb collapsing around them. I myself, once I had gotten back on my feet, took off running, so I was already long out of the cave as Rodney Peete came out carrying Pierre. Appearing out just as the entrance of the cave collapsed and was sealed off forever.
Thus empty handed, tired, cold, and exhausted but alive, we headed toward the airport in search of our next adventure. Knowing that Rodney Peete had miraculously slipped past the reach of death and defeated the force of evil.