User blog:Faenor of the Silver Laurel/War of the Wikis

It was a peaceful day in the Wiki household. Things were going well. We hadn't had a revolution, revolt, or incident involving firearms in... three hours? Two and a half?

I was working in the garden, planting some yellow roses, when I heard muffled shouts coming from inside and the crackle of small arms fire. I sighed, knowing they were at it again.

'OPEN FIRE!' screamed Chaz from their barricade of chairs, overturned tables and boxes, and Argali dutifully set up his stolen Chauchat (one had to wonder where Faenor got the money to afford all these guns, much less to modify them) and poured paint-bullets down the hallway at the advancing troops under Itallie, who were promptly sprayed with all the colors of the rainbow. They ducked for cover, and cursing ensued from the further end of the hall.

'HOW DID YOU MISS?!'

'I didn't-'

'THEY STILL LIVE! DO NOT QUESTION ME! YOU MISSED!'

'It's just paint-'

'DO YOU DARE TALK BACK TO YOUR LEADER?'

While Chaz and Argali argued, Itallie was formulating a plan with the help of her loyalists. More accurately, dictating a plan.

'This is the only hallway,' she said, 'so we'll have to rush them. We can put bodies in front to avoid the worst of the paint and come upon them when they're reloading. Then, we take the machine-gun and use it to further the Revolution's goals.'

'Isn't that Faenor's?' murmured Elestan, rewarded with a withering glare. 'It may have been, but he has clearly lent it to the enemy in order to oppose us, the capitalist swine.' Itallie responded triumphantly, confidence surging in her voice. The house would be hers. The opportunity to test her leadership skills for furthering the Revolution would begin here.

'So, who's going to make themselves Chauchat-fodder?' asked Elestan, and Itallie froze. This was unexpected. These troops still had wills of their own; they might not obey if she asked one or two to be in front. Paint was paint, but paint traveling that fast still hurt.

'I'll do it.' volunteered Eureka, and she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. 'Good. For the Revolution!'

'Za revolyutsiyu!' her troops dutifully responded, and Itallie smiled.

I sighed, hearing the familiar sound of my Chauchat being used. Fortunately, the real guns had the firing pins removed and no ammunition (I keep them in another place away from the house), so they had the paint version. I picked up the Berthier carbine next to be, checked the bolt, and took the slide off the rubber bayonet I had for it. It was going to be a long few minutes.

'Hey, Shadow? Berry? I'm going to need your help for this one.'

The twins stuck their heads out of their treehouse, and I detailed my plan.

'Za revolyutsiyu !' came a cry from down the hallway, and Chaz took a paint grenade, pulled the pin out with his teeth, and threw it down the corridor. The walls splattered with orange death, dropping one, and figures began charging through, paint guns held high. Chaz pointed.

'FIRE!'

The Chauchat chattered once more, but it was too late; they were overrun. Itallie looked them over, their hands bound, smeared with paint and sweat. 'Take them away!' she shouted imperiously.

I took a look down the hallway using a disc, and saw what had happened. My Chauchat; Itallie and the loyalists standing over the last rebels, Chaz and the ever-faithful Argali; my Chauchat. I held back a laugh. The Chauchat was many things, but it was still possibly the worst machine-gun in history. I nodded.

'Deiu et roi!' shouted Berry and Shadow, and they stormed down the halls, my Lebel and Berthier in their hands. I dropped the disc and picked up the small wooden instrument lying against the walls. My beautiful, beloved... kantele.

What happened next what utter torture for perhaps everyone in the neighborhood. I played polka.

Not only did I not know how to play polka, but I only knew how to maul one song; and it was Finnish polka, at that. Everyone in the hall dropped their weapons and clapped their hands to their ears, screaming at the torture of my poor instrument. Berry and Shadow quickly pressed forward, my ear protection for when I was shooting firmly planted on their heads as they quickly picked up all the weapons and threw them out the window to the lawn.

I walked down the hallway, still playing, and even the twins flinched at the mere sight of my bad playing.

'Give up?' I asked, and they nodded, tears in their eyes. 'I'm going to keep playing until I see all of you out of this hallway.'

Hell's gates could not have stopped the stampede down the stairs and out of the house as the entire family evacuated. I smiled and sighed.

'Peace at last...'

-

'I must say, I didn't expect you of all people to use such a method of getting your family to co-operate.' remarked Rosalie. I smiled and shook my head. 'Anything to gain a victory. Even if the victory lasts twenty minutes. Or, in this case, twenty seconds.'

'Why, what happened?'

'They went outside, remember? We threw the guns out the window.'

'That must have been tough for you to deal with.' she replied, sympathy in her voice. 'Believe me, it was.' I replied. 'Fortunately, I was able to put a new deadbolt on my door, so I shouldn't have any more thefts for the next three days until Chaz finds the boltcutters. I keep hiding them, but he keeps finding them. I just don't know what to do...'

'Have you tried living on your own?'

'You know what your bills are. I can't afford to live on my own and go to therapy, not with my salary.' She smiled at that. 'Well, we wouldn't need these sessions if you moved out.'

'True,' I responded. 'But where would the fun in that be?'