Zork's Adventure

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Zingrobian adventurer Zork lands on a wondrous world ripe for exploration. If only its inhabitants were just as wondrous.

Submitted: June 30, 2019

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Submitted: June 30, 2019



Thud! The silver spacecraft impacted with the hard concrete surface of this foreign planet. 


The walkway ramp extended out from the metallic exterior and the automated door rose up, a frost steam extended out from the doorway. Out stepped Zork, his skin tight silver spacesuit, reflected the suns harsh rays. The 4 foot 5, space-travelling hero puffed his chest out in triumph as he gazed upon this newly found planet. The emblem of his planet proudly emblazoned over his heart in the very centre of his spacesuit.


After conducting various experiments on the atmosphere, he determined that the air was safe to breathe. With a small amount of caution he removed his helmet and breathed deeply. The air was stuffy, moist and hot. Hard to inhale for the small, slit nostrils that the natives of the planet Zingob have.


It was the planet Zingob that Zork hailed from, it was their sign that was across his heart. The emblem of their planet, the four winged whip dragon on a red background.


He marched his large, three toed grey feet down the walkway and felt the melting tar of the ground burn his soles. 


"Ouch!" He screamed, jumping back on to the walkway and grabbing his burnt foot.


Back he marched onto the spaceship before reappearing, this time with great silver sandals on as protection. He stepped gingerly onto the surface of the planet once again, no pain this time.


He examined his surroundings, he appeared to be in some sort of ritual site or a maze of sorts. The black tar ground had white stripes in certain positions, creating rectangular boxes with one side absent. In some of these boxes were large objects, they were like cubes but more rounder and shapely, they had four wheels that touched the ground. 


"Some sort of transportation device" thought Zork.


In the distance he saw a large pillar, it reached high into the air. At the top was a peculiar symbol, two golden arches side by side touching in the middle. It looked somewhat like this:




Zork did not understand the meaning of this symbol but knew that it might mean some sort of contact with the inhabitants of the planet. 


He approached and saw a building with glass windows. Within there were creatures, the natives. They looked odd to Zork. Many looked different to the others. Some were tall and skinny with white skin. Others had brown skin of darker and darker shades. Some were small and some were fat. Some were curved at the hips and on the chest. Most had weird bushes, like grass on the top of their heads. These bushes were long, some short, some black, some blonde and some of them had no bush at all; somewhat like the natives of Zingob. Bush heads, yes that's what he might call them.


There was one common factor in all of them though, they all had in their hands round buns with some kind of slush patty in them. They shoved these into their mouths and chomped away gleefully. 


Zork recoiled in disgust at one man in particular who had a bun in either hand and was intermittently shoving them into his mouth. His clothing was marred with the excess patty that had fallen down his chest mid-chew.


"Aaaaaaaaargh!" Came a noise from inside the building. A tall one, with shapely curves and long blonde hair, was staring at him.


Zork gave the gesture of kindness and welcome in his planet. Holding up the middle finger and offering it to the bush head. At this a small group of little bush heads, they were even shorter than Zork, began exhaling and inhaling air and making squeaking noises all the while. Their mouths were turned up, the corners were spread wider than usual.


"This must be their greeting," thought Zork. He tried to recreate it, Zingrobian mouths were not well suited to this task it seemed. He only managed to form a gaping hole in the middle of his face, his eyes widened at the strain of it.


The bush head did not seem best pleased at this. The fat one with the two buns stood up and fiddled around for something hidden by his clothes. Suddenly he was running to the entrance of the building with a silver piece of metal shaped perfectly for his hand. Zork did not like the look of it, it looked an awful lot like a Zingrobian Pulse Cannon and he didn't want to mess with one of those. 


And sure enough the bush head got to the front of the building and aimed loosely in the direction of Zork. BANG! The silver thing let off, a sudden flash that disappeared as soon as it appeared. A whistle and a clang of metal as a metal pellet narrowly missed Zork. He knew it was time to go.


Scrambling and falling and picking himself up again, pellets whizzing past, Zork headed for his ship. He hastily fiddled with the buttons on his spacesuit to trigger the door to begin closing. With a hop, skip and a jump he reached the safety of his ship.


He wasted no time in booting up the system and setting up for take off. The machine whirred and buzzed and lit up all over the place. Soon it was in the air and rushing through the atmosphere, away from the awful bush heads.


"Phew!" Thought Zorg as his ship rested in orbit of the strange planet.


In the language of the Zingrob people the comm system started up, "Come in Zork, this is mission control," it buzzed.


"Mission control this is Agent Zork."


"Glad to hear from you Agent Zork. Please report your findings from the blue planet."


"As I sit here in the planet's orbit," began Zork hunting for the right words, "its beauty is undeniable. Blue and green and perfect for thriving life. Unfortunately, life did thrive. The planet is host to an inhospitable race of people whom I have named bush heads for the odd fluff on the tops of their heads. I have made contact with the bush heads but was quickly scared off by an enormous one of their members. He held in his hand what I can only assume is their equivalent to a pulse cannon. And, well, unfortunately mission control, he sought to use it on me. I can only assume that he acted out of a primal fear of the unknown. However, this of course is something we can't afford for, mission control. I would strongly advise to the intergalactic council that these beings ought not join our alliance. At least not for the time being, they still have a lot to learn, mission control."


There was a long pause as his fellow Zingrobians deliberated his findings. "Thank you, Agent Zork. We shall follow your advice I do believe. Perhaps one day this beautiful planet will be fit enough to join our ranks."


And with that the silver spacecraft shot off in the direction of home.

© Copyright 2019 a.d. hunter. All rights reserved.

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