INUBUYAKASHA 2020; A RECKLESS RETCON

Pre-Prologue
In the beginning, there were two creatrixes, and they made a world that they thought would be better. But it wasn't, and like all creators, they decided they should just start over.

Prologue

It starts with a changeling, a mortal woman raised amongst faeries. She was tall and pale like any fairytale heroine, and they named her Red for she could drink wine all night, and dance as long as any Fey. The Fey Queen, the newly crowned head of the Garden family, Cabbage, considered her a sister and trusted confidant. Unlike most mortals, she also knew the secrets of the Fey, which could shape the very fabric of the world, though she was sworn to never tell another mortal soul. She really liked chips, and would make grandiose statements about her need for chips, a dangerous action when amongst Fey.
There was a boy, a mortal named Barry, of silver words but few actual charms, that Red loved. And alas, so did two other women, The Nefarious Space Pirate Buffy, and the Mysterious Priestess Oddball.
Cabbage, seeing a chance to help her friend, cast a love spell on Buffy, causing her to fall in love with a Yak Farmer, leaving Red free to steal Barry's heart, but for her meddling she was cursed- more on that later, safe to say it was a strange time for Faerie. But Red was happy, and she grew up to be a forgetful writer with a laptop, a fondness for wine, and a few Fey tricks up her sleeve.
Time went by and a child was born to Red, a little girl, so lanky and pale and lacking in charm that she was given the name- prestigious amongst Fey, not so much amongst mortals- of Beansprout, and this, is where the true story begins.

Episode #1: "The Tale Begins " By Ally

When you meddle with magic, the consequences aren’t always immediate. The Fey and the mortals, as far as they knew, had found their happily ever afters. But in the world of Faerie, which runs on narratives, stories never truly end – each one threads into the next. It wasn’t long before Beansprout, Red and Barry’s child, was old enough for the wild plot strands to drift towards her and weave her into the story.

One day, when Beansprout was nine years old, her mother shooed her out of the house. There wasn’t a grandmother nearby to deliver a basket of treats to, or a temporarily empty cottage that was normally home to three bears, so, as far as Red knew, her daughter was safe, and it would be perfectly all right to send her out to get some fresh air.

“What does she expect me to do, frolic?” Beansprout muttered to herself as she wandered down towards the river. Beansprout, as one might expect from a child of her name and parentage, was unusually sarcastic, even though she hadn't yet reached double figures. Still, she wasn't too unhappy about going down to the river. There was always something interesting to see there, whether it was ducks swimming around, frogs that had just stopped being tadpoles, or...a little glass bottle?

Beansprout bent down and picked up the bottle. It was made of smoky green glass, with a cork tightly wedged in the neck.

Her mother had never given her much in the way of sensible adult guidance when it came to inspecting the contents of strange bottles. Beansprout gripped the end of the cork in her teeth and pulled as hard as she could, until, with a pop, it came loose.

A shower of green sparks filled the air. There was a hum and a crackle, a feeling like electricity shivering through the air. And then, hovering in front of Beansprout's startled face, was a faery.

"Folking hell, it stank in there!" The faery darted down to the ground to give the bottle a vicious kick.

Beansprout stared. The faery looked like an airborne Barbie doll, wearing a leaf-green cocktail dress, with a giant cloud of red hair that frizzed out around her head. Nestled in her hair, almost invisible under the twisting curls, was a tiny crown.

"Who the hell are you?" Beansprout asked.

"I'm Flibbage," the faery replied. "Don't laugh. My parents had terrible taste in names."

"So did mine."

Flibbage put her hands on her hips. "I guess you know who I am?"

"Uh...no?"

Flibbage rolled her eyes. "Mortals," she muttered. "I'm Princess Flibbage. Daughter of Queen Cabbage, heir to the throne of Faerie, Deadly Poet and Faery Godmother."

"That's a lot of titles." Beansprout folded her arms, and gave Flibbage a critical look. "So. Where's my magic sword and the prophecy?"

"What?"

"My mum always told me that, some day, a faerie would turn up and give me a magic sword and a prophecy."

"How sober was your mum when she told you that?"

Beansprout shrugged. "Oh, the usual amount."

"Well, I hate to say it, but she's kind of right." Flibbage clicked her fingers. The air shimmered for a moment, and then - Beansprout blinked - the faery was holding a floppy disc and a very large machine gun. "Although swords and spoken-word prophecies are so passe. We faeries have much better technology these days."

"Much better technology like...a floppy disc?"

Flibbage raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you not want the prophecy and the magical weapon?"

"No, no, gimme!" Beansprout grabbed the gun out of Flibbage's hands. "My very own machine gun! I've always wanted one!"

"Well, you're going to need it," Flibbage said. Her voice was suddenly a lot more serious than it had been before. The word 'portentous' sprang to Beansprout's mind. "As we speak, Buffy and her Yak Men are coming here from Nepal to wreak their terrible revenge."

"Buffy!" Beansprout exclaimed. "Not the Buffy that tried to steal my dad away from my mum all those years ago?"

"Yeah, sure, because that's the worst of her crimes..."

Suddenly, a terrible "Moooooooo!" rang out across the landscape. Beansprout spun around, hefting her machine gun to her shoulder, and saw a huge, hairy, smelly yak cantering across the field towards her at top speed. Sitting on the yak's back was a figure dressed in yak skin, laughing at the top of its voice as it thundered towards them.

"Quick!" Flibbage yelled. Out of the corner of her eye, Beansprout saw something begin to shimmer in the air behind the faery's ear, but she couldn't see it clearly. "It's one of the yak men! Use your gun!"

Beansprout pulled the trigger, bracing herself...

A small puff of smoke hissed out of the end of the gun, accompanied by a sound like a mouse sighing.

"Oops," said Flibbage.

"What," Beansprout said flatly.

"That's...that's the Rather Pathetic and Useless Machine Gun of Can't We Just Compromise. I must have picked it up by mistake."

"You're a bit of an ineffectual faery, aren't you?" Beansprout asked, letting the gun fall to her side as the slavering yak galloped ever closer.

Will our heroines survive this first encounter with the enemy? Well, yes, otherwise this wouldn’t be much of a story and Footloose would never have happened. Still, in an attempt to keep an element of suspense – find out next time on IBYKS: The Reckless Retcon!

Episode 2# "Enter the token bloke." By Emily

WE RECAP READERS, AS A GIANT YAK PLUMMETS TOWARDS OUR STRICKEN HEROINES FLIBBAGE AND BEANSPROUT, RIDDEN BY A SCREAMING YAK WARRIOR

"You know what? That's actually very rude, I just recently graduated from Faerie school!" grumbled Flibbage, pointing at a tiny 'P' sticker attached to her wings "This means I am a fully passed arcane practitioner, and I didn't come all this way and get imprisoned in a bottle just to-"

"FOLKING DO SOMETHING BEFORE WE GET TRAMPLED!"

"-and actually you seem to have a real lack of social skills, which is something we're going to have to work on-"

"PLEASE STOP THE YAK, FLIBBAGE!"

Just then they realized that they were still in great danger because the yak was still charging and had not in fact died of boredom while they were still chatting away. Flibbage waved her wand, and began to recite under her breath what seemed to Beansprout be a rather sub-par rhyming couplet.

"O monstrous beast hell-bent on attack,
Perhaps it's time to stop for a snack."

Large cabbages suddenly erupted from the ground in a wall in front of the two heroines, leaves unfurling in showers of green sparkles. The yak stopped dead in its tracks, catapulting its rider forwards, cartwheeling headfirst into the base of a tree, whilst it began to happily munch on leaves.

"You could have mentioned the magic powers a bit earlier." commented Beansprout, offering the faery a tiny high-five.
"I thought Faery Godmother carried obvious implications." Flibbage replied, as they made their way over to the fallen rider, who groaned and rolled over revealing not the fearsome warrior they expected, but a boy, a little older than Beansprout, dressed in simple yak farmer clothes and an incongruous Chelsea FC knitted hat which was pulled down low over his ears. Scruffy blonde hair spiking out from underneath the hat. The whole ensemble smelled revolting.

"Are you dead yet?" said Beansprout holding her nose.

The Yak Boy stood up, using the tree for balance,"Urgh, thanks for rescuing me from that yak."

"But you were screaming with laughter and trying to run us down!"

"I was screaming all right! Folking Yaks, I'm allergic to them."

"But you're a Yak Boy!"

"Alas, my life is not a happy one," the boy sighed wistfully. "Anyway, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Yakky, son of a lowly yak farmer- and the Nefarious Space Pirate Buffy. Officially she sent me here to kill you, but look, honestly, I'm 12 years old, and who sends their own pre-teen kid to do the dirty work of murder? That's messed up."

"Wow, we all seem to have struck lucky in the name game." Flibbage muttered.

Beansprout half heartedly waved the machine gun at Yakky for a few seconds just so he knew who was boss. "You don't happen to have a computer with a floppy disk drive do you? We've got an apparent prophecy here to fulfil, but its trapped on obsolete tech."

Yakky shrugged, "I live on a rural yak-farm, what do you think?"

"Flibbage do you even know whats on this disk?"

The faery preened her wings. "I am merely a conduit for the will of the Creatrixes. I deliver their Plot and follow where it leads me."

"Flibbage that was some grade-A nonsense you just came out with."

"...I've got no idea what's on the disk."

Just then, there was a rumble, as an elegant and sleek spaceship appeared over the horizon. A silent hatch rolled back smoothly revealing a dastardly, but sharply dressed figure, her clothes were silvery and futuristic, and her brunette bob was perfectly coiffed. With cold eyes Buffy the Space Pirate looked down on the three. "What are you waiting for, boy? Kill them!"

"Crap, it's mum." Yakky said, "she seems quite miffed."

Beansprout grabbed Yakky's arm as she fled towards a group of trees, with Flibbage zooming along in the air beside them, but it quickly became clear there was no way two children and an insect sized elf were going to outrun a spaceship. Flibbage, her frizzy hair crackling with magic, began another hastily crafted spell.

"This prophecy is so unclear,
get us the folk away from here!"

Green sparkles fluttered in the air and formed a swirling vortex in front of them. The branches of the trees shook and leaves flew through the air as the spaceship hovered overhead, with Buffy peering out. As the wind died away her eyes narrowed. The children were gone.

***

Back at Beansprout's house, a woman sat typing at a laptop, glass of wine forgotten to one side as she wrote, engrossed in a lengthy essay about the poetry of Blake. A man in a sharp black suit let himself in at the door, and put a briefcase down on the table.
"Red...where's our daughter?"

"Hey Barry," Red replied, not looking up from her typing. "Actually I'm not sure. She was here a second ago, then she went out to play by the river and then a spaceship flew over and then-OH NO ITS HAPPENING ISN'T IT-" Red stood up so fast she nearly fell over.

"So Buffy the Nefarious Space Pirate is making her move." Said Barry and paced up and down a little. "What should we do?"

"I'll kill that Buffy! No, wait" Red sat down at her laptop with a smile.

"What?"

"Beansprout got her magic sword and prophecy I guess. So let's just give her a little nudge in the right direction." She said, typing away. The screen faded to a pale purple as a butterfly flew across the screen tailing words behind it. --Acessing REALM mainframe Welcome to FaeryNet--.

"Excellent," said Red clicking on a folder titled "Emergency Magic".

***

Beansprout stared up at the verdant leaves above her, she was definitely in a grove of trees still, but something was different. The spaceship was gone, and there was no sound of cars or civilization. Insects hummed from weird looking tree to strange flower, and there was a sound like distant singing. Yakky looked just as confused. Flibbage however looked as sparkly as possible, and her frizzy hair seemed sleeker and more controlled.
"Flibbage, where are we? Is this America?"

"What, no? Why would we go to America, that would be ridiculous- what a long way to go for a laptop, we would never do that..."

"Flibbage."

"I mean there are sooooo many places that still have floppy disk drives, and-"

"Flibbage where are we then?"

Flibbage sighed. "We're in Faerie. It's the first place that came to mind, and I thought maybe my mum could help us out."

"You thought the Queen of Faerie would help us with our ICT troubles?"

"She might?"

"Yeah or we might all end up trapped here for a thousand years."

Flibbage bristled. "That is a stereotype and I resent it. I mean yeah, maybe she did just ban all men from performing magic in the mortal realm because she's mad with a courtier she banished, and maybe she's only queen because Titania met with a mysterious fatal accident, but she is not capricious or deceitful or murderous at all!"

Beansprout stared at her tiny friend. "Sure whatever, let's go see the Queen, I look forward to my future life as the eternal child slave of the Faerie court."

"I'm up for it." added Yakky.

WE LEAVE OUR HEROES TREKKING THROUGH FAERIE WOODS ON ROUTE TO THE PALACE

WILL BEANSPROUT FIND A HANDY '90S PC AND RECIEVE HER DESTINY?

WILL THEY BE WELCOMED BY THE QUEEN OF FAERIE?

WHAT HAS RED SENT TO HELP THEM?

WILL BUFFY CATCH UP TO THEM?

FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON INUBUYAKASHA Episode #3: Faery Frolics and Fun With a Prophecy

“Flibbage,” Beansprout said, as they walked through the twisty corridors of the Faerie palace.

“Mm-hmm?”

“Flibbage.”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure this is the way to the throne room?”

“Excuse me.” Flibbage turned around, still fluttering along the corridor, and put her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know that I was born and raised in the Faerie Palace. I could fly around this place with my eyes shut. So, I definitely know the way to the throne room. I just thought it’d be better to go to the computer lab first.”

Yakky frowned. “Why?”

“Because this prophecy is obviously important.”

Beansprout raised her eyebrows. “Not because you don’t want to explain to your mum why you brought two mortals to the Faerie Realm without her permission, then?”

“No!”

“I’m just saying, if I was Queen of the Faeries, that’d be the kind of thing I’d get really annoyed about.”

“Will you shut up?” Flibbage hovered over to the next door and pushed it open, with a force that Beansprout wouldn’t have expected from someone of her size. Behind the door was a room filled with banks of computers. “Let’s find out about this prophecy.”

Shiny blue words scrolled across the computer screen as Beansprout, Flibbage and Yakky watched.

T’was brillig, and in bright Nepal,

Yaks gored and gambolled in the hay.

All worn out were our shoes and boots,

And Red, Barry, and Cabbage,

Hung around all day.

Beware Buffy and her men of yaks,

Stiletto heels and smelly skins.

Beware of raptors, and stakes and Spam,

And other dodgy food in tins.

Beansprout goes forth with a useless Uzi,

A floppy disk and a bad attitude.

The faery will have powerful magic,

The boy’s smell will be considered rude.

And as in childlike thought they stood....

Horrible things happened and they had lots of adventures.

The End

There was a small popping noise, and the screen went blank.

Beansprout stared, and then tapped the screen. “Hello? Was that it?” She looked at the others. “What the hell was that supposed to mean?”

“Search me,” said Yakky with a shrug.

“I’d rather not.” Beansprout wrinkled her nose, and glanced at Flibbage. “Can’t you magic him up some clean clothes? And a bath?”

“I’m right here, you know,” Yakky said in a wounded voice.

“Oh, so now you’re all right with people taking things from faeries. I thought that was supposed to leave you stuck in the Faerie Realm for a hundred years while everyone you knew in the mortal world either dies or forgets you?”

“Guys…”

“I never said that. You just said that. And it was strangely specific.”

“If I’m getting different clothes, I’m keeping my hat,” Yakky said.

Beansprout glared at him. “Oh, what, you love Chelsea so much you want to keep whatever lice and fleas are living in that hat?”

“I don’t have fleas!” Yakky said sharply.

“You know what, maybe we should just go and see my Mum,” said Flibbage, holding her hands up in the universal sign of ‘steady now, everyone’. “She might be able to help decipher this prophecy – she did write it, after all – and she’ll definitely be able to get Yakky some new clothes and some soap fruit.”

“Some what?”

“Soap fruit.” Flibbage looked at them both. “You know? From trees? The thing you wash with?”

Beansprout and Yakky glanced at each other.

“Where I come from,” Beansprout said, “we call it ‘soap’.”

“Well, then, we’re on the same page!” Flibbage said crossly. “Let’s go and see my Mum. She won’t really be annoyed about me bringing mortals into Faerie without a permit. Besides,” she added with a wicked grin, “I have a few things to discuss with certain people.”

As they walked towards the throne room, the decoration on the walls got more ornate. The tiles beneath their feet glittered like jewels. And the ceilings got lower and lower.

“Um, Flibbage?” Beansprout said, when even she was bending double to get along the corridors. “What’s going on?”

“Oh – well, humans don’t usually get to visit the throne room,” Flibbage said. She was now walking, the scale of the corridors making her look normal-sized. “So Mum kept it faery-sized.” She stopped and dug around in her pockets. “Here,” she said, handing two small pills to Beansprout and Yakky. “Eat these.”

Beansprout looked at the pill she was holding. On it, printed in bright green letters, were the words ‘EAT ME’.

“My mum always told me not to take sweets from strange people,” she said.

“I’m not a stranger!”

“I said strange, not stranger. Still, I guess when in Faerie, do as the faeries do…” Beansprout placed the pill on her tongue.

There was a fizzing feeling, and then coldness began to spread through Beansprout’s body. Her muscles squeezed – not painfully, but very strongly, and she felt herself begin to close up. Her limbs grew smaller, her head pulled down away from the ceiling, and suddenly, she was standing beside Flibbage as the faery towered over her. From this angle, Flibbage’s hair looked even bigger, and her grin was slightly terrifying.

“All right, then!” Flibbage said happily, and pushed open the door at the end of the corridor. “Mum? MUM!” she yelled, in a voice which was ear-splittingly loud now Beansprout was down at her level. “It’s MEEEEEEEEEEE!”

The walls of the room were covered in twisting vines carved out of green stone. Each wall was lined with tall, green-glass windows, that reminded Beansprout of a church. At the far end of the room was a silver throne, huge and imposing.

As she looked, a green-skinned woman strode into the room, with a book in one hand and a pavlova in the other. She had red hair, almost as curly as Flibbage’s, which tumbled down to her waist, and on her head was a battered-looking tiara topped with wilted flowers.

“Can you tone it down a bit, please, daughter?” she said. “I’ve got a headache.”

Flibbage looked pointedly at the pavlova. “Well, you know your sinuses and dairy.”

“Oh, shut up.” Queen Cabbage – at least, Beansprout assumed it was her – finished the last bite of the pavlova. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you for a few days.”

“Oh, yes, I was going to talk to you about that.” Flibbage drew herself up to her full height – Beansprout had to remind herself that it was probably only about six inches – opened her mouth very wide, and yelled “CALLUM PUT ME IN A BOTTLE AND DROPPED ME IN A RIVER!”

“Ah, Callum, that little scamp…”

“HE WAS TRYING TO SUFFOCATE ME, MUM!”

“I’m actually more concerned that a river in my Queendom apparently washes things into the mortal world,” said the Queen, closing her book with a snap and looking pointedly at Beansprout and Yakky. “I don’t want my exiles realising they can swim their way back home.”

“WHAT ABOUT MY BROTHER TRYING TO KILL ME?” Flibbage squealed.

“Well, what have I always told you about revenge being a dish best served piping hot?”

“REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED PIPING HOT MUM!”

“Well, go and get your own back on your brother and stop bothering me about it!”

With a vengeful grin, Flibbage turned and ran back through the throne room doors, her feet pattering away into the distance. Queen Cabbage turned to face the two children.

“So, tiny mortals,” she said. “What are you doing in my palace?”

“I think you know our parents,” Beansprout said. “I’m Beansprout, Red’s daughter. This is Yakky, son of Buffy and…I don’t know, some yak herder.”

“Hey,” Yakky said, sounding just as wounded as before.

Queen Cabbage arched an eyebrow. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Well, Yakky was hoping for some soap and some clean clothes.”

“Heeeeey!”

“Is that all?” The Queen clicked her fingers, and a door at the back of the hall opened. Outside, there was an orchard full of trees. “The soap fruit tree is near the springs, and the clothes tree is over by the garden wall. You can’t miss it, it’s the one that looks like a jumble sale. Knock yourself out.”

With a little more enthusiasm than he’d shown before, Yakky ran out towards the orchard, although he did keep a hand clamped to his head, holding his Chelsea hat firmly on.

“It’s not all,” Beansprout said, looking up at the Queen. “I was wondering if you could help me decipher that prophecy.”

Queen Cabbage sighed. “It doesn’t make for much of a story if I have to give you too many clues.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Sorry. Mortal, I forgot.” Cabbage set her book down. “All right. The meaning of the prophecy is…”

WHAT does the prophecy mean?

HOW will Flibbage get her revenge on her annoying brother Callum?

WHY is Yakky so concerned about his hat?

Find out – maybe – next time on Inubuyakasha, The Reckless Retcon!




Episode #4: "Nepal Again(for the first time) By Emily

"...hidden in an ancient temple in Nepal." Cabbage continued, as Yakky re-entered the room now clad entirely in Chelsea FC themed clothing. He had the kind of suspicious muddy tidemarks around his neck and arms that only a child who has been sent unwillingly to wash up can cultivate, and was indeed still wearing the hat.
"Nepal!" exclaimed Beansprout, "But that's where Buffy's base is! You can't expect me, an ACTUAL child to walk into the jaws of death in search of some kind of meaning from a nonsense poem even Edward Lear would have chucked out!?"

"You're very loud for someone that I could turn into a desk ornament at any second." replied the Queen dismissively, "Look, if you want to find out anything you have to go to Nepal, that's the rules. The High Priestess of the temple is an old friend of mine, so she'll help you out. Besides, the climatic face-off with the primary antagonist was bound to happen sooner or later, you have to seek these things out if you want to be an adventurer!"

"I don't want to be an adventurer..." Yakky added quietly.
"Neither do I!" Beansprout stamped her tiny foot. "Look, this isn't fair! This morning I was out playing in the countryside, and now people are trying to kill me over some ancient love triangle, all the adults are acting like I have to figure it out on my own, and the supposed magical artefacts I'm being offered are rubbish! My faerie godmother is a mad cackling teenager, and my sidekick is some smelly yak-boy who won't wash and wears a stinky football hat like it's a religious vestment! I just want a quiet life!"
The Queen loomed menacingly over Beansprout, sparkles of static electricity or magic dancing over her hair and wings.
"A quiet life? That can be arranged." Something in the tone of her voice suggested Beansprout wouldn't enjoy whatever she was thinking.
"Fine. FINE. We'll go to Nepal."
"Excellent, Flibbage will help you pack."

***

They found Flibbage out in the garden, forcing a small pink beetle to walk out along a lolly stick into an ornamental fountain and whispering threats under her breath. When she noticed them, she scooped it up into a small bottle and screwed the lid on tightly, murmuring (which was still quite loud) "Let's see how you like it, you little usurper."
Flibbage led them round the garden, picking fruit off trees that looked suspiciously like croissants and sandwiches, gathering root vegetables that turned out to be rolled up pairs of socks and t shirts, and a plant like a leek that turned out to be a fairly in-depth map of Nepal. On it a squashed bug was marked with the words 'Temple of Choom'. Beansprout picked several soap fruit, hoping Yakky could be convinced to wash properly once on his home soil. After putting everything inside two gourd shaped backpacks, Flibbage began to draw a glittery circle on the ground and then began to add runes, which on the surface looked very mystical. Beansprout, who had once come across a page online about the Elder Futhark was not impressed.
"Flibbage this just says; CAN WE GO TO NEPAL PLEASE, NEAR A TEMPLE I THINK?"
Flibbage continued her work "Look magic isn't always rhyming couplets. Sometimes its limericks, sometimes its iambic pentameter... sometimes it's just asking the Creatrices to drop you in a narratively convenient location."
"This doesn't seem very accurate."
"Fine Fine Whatever. MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!?"
The Queen flitted out, feet barely touching the ground as her wings shimmered. "What?"
"CAN YOU PLEASE ADD SOME CO-ORDINATES TO THIS PLEASE?"
Cabbage touched down, and held out her hand for the map. She then paced the circle, adding a mark here and a line there. A faint glow began to rise from the diagram. "This will have to do. It's accurate to a 100 mile radius."
"Oh that fills me with confidence," Yakky added from the sidelines, where he sat munching a croissant fruit with grubby hands.
"PERMISSION TO LEAVE, YOUR MAJESTY?"
"Yes yes, get out. Don't come back unless you bring a dessert, next time. Good luck with the Godmothering and whatnot."
"Wait wait- how do we get across Nepal?" asked Beansprout.
"Honestly, what do they even teach you in human school these days, use the map!"
"And we're six inches high!"
"The portal is adjusted to cancel out any existing charms! It'll work!" Flibbage added, fed up with no one trusting her magic circle, and before anyone else could complain she plunged her hands to the floor, filling it with magic, and in a flash of green glitter, they were gone.

***

Somewhere in the windswept wastes of Nepal, yaks were grazing peacefully when suddenly there was a small 'pop!' and a bright flash as three six-inch figures appeared in midair, two of them fell painfully onto the ground before returning to their proper size. Flibbage giggled, but now Yakky and Beansprout were their proper size it wasn't so grating. Yakky winced and dusted himself down, before extending a hand to help Sprout, whose head was stuck in a hole.
Slapping him away she righted herself and tried to regain some dignity by rearranging her crumpled clothes, backpack, and machine gun. "Right! Lost Temple, here we come!" she declared, pulling out the map fruit and heading off in no particular direction, pushing the yaks aside.

"Does she actually know where to go?" asked Yakky nervously.
"I doubt it very much" said Flibbage. "Don't you? I mean, this is your homeland."
Yakky did a quick look around to see if there were any landmarks he recognised."No" He replied, and thought about how very big and empty Nepal was, and how cold it got at night. Then he considered the flimsy nature of the clothes they were wearing. It was not a good thought.
"Hmmm..." said Flibbage thoughtfully, and then suddenly brightened. She dug about in her faery pockets. Yakky paid close attention, hoping she was finding her 'Warm house and lots of snug clothing' spell. However what she came up with was the beetle in its glass bottle.
"Heheheh." said Flibbage retreating into her own little world. "Well, well my dear Callum. Let's see how you like being a BONZAI bug eh? That'll show you, you nasty little mushroom headed-" she paused. Little gold sparks were erupting around the cork of the bottle, which quickly popped out.
"I think you forgot" added Yakky reproachfully, "about your portal cancelling existing charms."
"Ah." said Flibbage.

Something was happening to the bug in the bottle. It was slowly squeezing like toothpaste out of the neck. With another small 'pop!' it shot out and hung briefly in the air before turning into another six inch fairy- a boy, about the same age as Flibbage, with shorter puffy red curls and green clothes, and much smaller crown perched on his head.
"Flibbage you absolute tyrant-" he began before looking around. "Oh no. Oh nonono Flib! not the Mortal Realm? Please tell me we're not in the Mortal Realm!"
"Hah! You're in the mortal realm!" For a second Flibbage had been worried about losing the edge in this battle of sibling rivalry, but things were looking up.
"Send me back! Send me back now!" yelled Callum, Prince of Faerie, and kicked Yakky in the elbow.
"Ow!" said Yakky, "Send yourself back, don't bring me into it!"
"He can't!" Flibbage crowed triumphantly. "Remember what I said earlier about banished courtiers and Mum? Male faeries can't do *any* magic outside of Faerie- she banned it!" Flibbage broke down into cackles and cartwheeled through the air. "You wanted to maroon me out here but I'm a Faerie Godmother on a Quest with my ward and you're just a friendless, no-magic, dork!"
"You can hang out with us." said Yakky sympathetically.
"Damn DAMN DAMN!" yelled Callum, and kicked him again. Yakky, having no fear of a magicless faerie and feeling a little betrayed, flicked him away.

At this point Beansprout stomped back over, no less lost but a lot more impatient. "Come on! Temple to desecrate, priceless artefacts to steal! Yaks to defeat! Prophecy et cetera!" Flibbage and Callum, realising the episode was at an end, flitted after her, bickering. Yakky shrugged, and hoisting his gourd backpack, followed behind.

WILL THE NEXT EPISODE FOLLOW THE ORIGINAL PLOT?

WHEN'S THIS GONNA GET INTERESTING?

HAVE YOU TWO DRUNKARDS FINALLY LOST IT?

FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON INUBUYAKASHA: THE RECKLESS RETCON

IBYKS: The Reckless Retcon. Episode 5: Beandiana Jones and the Temple of Gloom

The scene, as our heroes set off across the chilly landscape of Nepal, was far from epic. Beansprout did her best, wearing a stoic expression as she struggled to carry her outsized machine gun and ignore the steady bickering from Flibbage and Callum.

Yakky, sadly, was not as strong-willed. "I'm tired!" he wailed. "My feet hurt! I'm still tired! I have blisters! This polyester shirt is scratching me to pieces!"

"That's what you get for supporting Chelsea," Beansprout retorted. "But if walking is too much for you, you could always ride one of those yaks."

"I love walking," Yakky said quickly. "A bracing walk in the countryside is my favourite thing ever."

"Yaks?" Flibbage asked, turning to Beansprout and Yakky. She'd been in the middle of a particularly vicious insult to Callum, and so her expression was an odd combination of curious, contemptuous and scared, which made her look even more cartoonish than usual. "Isn't that bad?"

"Of course they're bad," Yakky muttered. "All yaks are bad."

"Not all yaks. But the ones belonging to your mum are, right?"

Yakky stared at the yaks - more specifically, at a strange brand on their haunches, visible through a shaved patch in their long, straggly hair. His face went pale.

"Oh no," he said in a hollow voice. "She bought out Nepal."

Beansprout's eyes widened. "As part of her plan to kill me and my mum, and seduce my dad?"

"More as part of her world domination plan, actually," Yakky said. "She's not really interested in your dad any more. Although she does want to wipe your family off the face of the earth. It's the principle of the thing, you know?"

"What kind of villain-ass principle is that?!" Beansprout shrieked.

Before Yakky could reply, one of the nearest yaks sniffed the air, then slowly turned to look at them. Its eyes narrowed, and it began to paw at the ground with its hoof, snorting angrily. Across the plateau, its companions started to do the same.

"Nice," Callum said bitterly. "Thanks, sis. You've brought me to the mortal realm just in time to be trampled by yaks."

Flibbage gave him a too-sweet smile. "I could always put you back in the bottle for safety."

Beansprout raised the machine gun, staring at the yaks with a steely gaze. Flibbage clenched her fist, and a bright green light began to glow in her hand. Yakky whined, and grabbed the edges of his hat and pulled it further down on his head, as if he were trying to disappear inside it.

The yaks began to thunder towards them, the ground shaking beneath their hooves.

Just as the beasts were about to reach our heroes, the rumbling of the ground became a juddering, and then a cracking. The earth began to give way, and Beansprout, Flibbage, Yakky and Callum tumbled down into a pit.

There was a flash of green light as Flibbage's magic exploded upwards. Cursing, the faerie twisted in the air and shot another beam of magic below them.

All of the air was knocked out of Beansprout's lungs as she hit the ground - or rather, a pile of something soft and springy that covered the ground. She looked around her, and saw that she and the others were lying in a large pile of cabbage leaves.

Beansprout never would have thought that she'd be glad to land in a pile of vegetable matter. But as she looked around at the rocky cave floor, and saw the yaks raining down from the world above, she thanked her lucky stars for magic.

"Urgh," Yakky said, looking as green as the cabbage leaves as yet another yak splattered on the floor.

"Better them than us," Flibbage said, standing up and dusting herself off. She looked down at Callum, who was lying next to her, and gave him a kick. "Get up, dingbat."

Slowly, creakily, Callum got to his feet. He turned around. A long, white beard had appeared on his face, along with a spiderweb of wrinkles. He was hunched, and his hands were gnarled and knotted like an old tree.

"What?" he asked, in a wheezy voice, as the other three stared at him.

"Um." Flibbage looked a little sheepish. "I was preparing an ageing spell to slow down the yaks, and...I think it might have hit you by mistake."

"Might?" Beansprout echoed, looking down at the faerie.

"Well, there could be another explanation."

"Which is?"

"Mysterious temple?" Flibbage waved a hand around at the cavern in which they'd found themselves.

Beansprout looked around. This time, without the distraction of falling yaks, she saw that the rocky walls of the pit slowly gave way to columns and archways that seemed to have been carved out of the stone. There were strange carved pictures on the walls - geometric shapes, four simplistic figures, and what appeared to be musical notes.

Suddenly, the cave was flooded with a bright electric light. There was a whine of feedback, and then a voice boomed from several speakers that Beansprout guessed were hidden all around the cave.

"GO AWAY, VEGETABLE FREAKS, OR I'LL EAT YOUR HEADS!"

WHO IS THE OWNER OF THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE?

WILL CALLUM EVER REGAIN HIS YOUTH?

WHO IS LOOKING OUT FOR THE WELFARE OF THE ANIMALS IN THIS STORY?

Episode #6 "Re-live your future" -by Emily

A figure stepped into view, a stark female sillhouette against the electric lights. A stylishly cut robe swept the floor around her feet and curly red hair to rival Flibbage created a halo of light round her head. In one hand she gripped a baseball bat menacingly.
"What do you want, Fred?" she demanded, as she stepped forward, round glasses flashing to reveal a pair of piercing brown eyes.

"Um well I'm Beansprout Jones and I'm looking for a temple... which we just conveniently fell into." our hero said, ignoring the Fred part.

"Gonna look like a right prat, if it's the wrong temple." wheezed Callum, alighting on her shoulder.

"Right then Fred!" replied the woman, her face breaking into a grin as she threw her arms wide in a welcoming gesture offset by the fact she was still holding a baseball bat.

Beansprout paused in confusion. "No, my name is Beansprout."

"I heard you, Fred. And I'm Oddball, Priestess of the Holy Tablet and Agent... of Chaos." The priestess began to nod her head, as if listening to inaudible music.

"I think there's something wrong with her." Flibbage whispered in Sprout's other ear. Yakky, hoping this was some kind of translation error, tried a few introductory phrases in Nepalese. Without pause, she replied fluently.

"What did she say?" Beansprout asked out of the corner of her mouth.

"She uh... she says 'Mindetta is digging graves in my brain'." He replied.

"Oh."

"Do you think maybe a rock hit her on the head?" Flibbage asked.

"I think she's lost it." Callum added as Sprout waved him away from her.

"Brains!" added Oddball, joining their huddle.

Beansprout looked around at the frescos on the wall. "Is that you?" she said pointing at a painting of a woman in a black and white robe.

"Of course you little green sausage!"

"But it looks ancient!"

"Well Fred is eternal."

"And hang on..." Beansprout spun round looking at the other figures pictured "There's my mum! And there's the Faerie Queen, and ... and THATS BUFFY. What the Folk is going on here?!"

"You did say you came here looking for a prophecy, Fred. We're all about prophecy here! As it Was Before so it shall be Different This Time." Oddball turned on her heel and began to walk back into the darkness, her robe trailing behind her. Turning to look back, she impatiently beckoned the adventurers to follow. Beansprout, figuring that she'd come this far followed, stepping carefully over the fallen rubble and yak corpses. The two faeries hitched a ride on her shoulders again, Callum constantly complaining about his bones hurting and how he wasn't getting any younger, whilst Flibbage kicked him in the shins whenever she thought no one was looking. Yakky looked up at the hole above them, briefly considered climbing to freedom, then sighed deeply and pulling the hat low on his head again, hurried to catch up.

Oddball led them along a passage that curved slightly upwards for a while, and then into a vaulted chamber which was lit with bright rainbow colours shining down from above. On the ceiling was a huge window, divided into sections like the spokes of a wheel and decorated with many colours of stained glass in abstract patterns.
This was the source of the light, the afternoon sunshine shining down to illuminate a plinth in the middle of the room. On the plinth sat an average looking ipad.

"Behold! The Holy Tablet of the Creatrices!" Oddball intoned "The conduit between mortals and their makers, repository of all sacred words!"

"That's an ipad. You have to be folking kidd-" Beansprout began, finally losing her temper at all the absolute nonsense that had befallen her over that last day or so before Flibbage and Callum simultaneously clapped their hands over her mouth.

"Oh folk..." whispered Callum
"It can't be..." Flibbage replied.
"Believe it, fred." replied Oddball.
"What?" asked Yakky.

Flibbage flew over to the plinth and landed, laying a hand reverentially on the glass surface.
"I can't explain it to you."

"You better folking start, because I didn't come to Nepal to look at a folking ipad." yelled Beansprout.

"You won't like it"
Callum started to loudly talk over Flibbage-"Flibbage, you know we're not allowed to talk to mortals about-"

"We're all fictional."
"DAMMIT FLIBBAGE."

"Sorry what?" Beansprout said incredulously.

"They'll forget anyway Callum, mortals can never keep this stuff in their heads. We're all fictional! I can do magic by twisting the rules of fiction. Think about it- I shouldn't even be able to lift my own body weight with these flimsy wings, and my brain is smaller than a pea! We're being followed by a murderous space pirate! Does any of that make sense?! Of course not, because it's a story! It's not even the first time we've been here. It's like deja-vu, I keep remembering alternate versions of things that happen to us. Last time we went to America, and had to run away from lava- and this" she gestured emphatically at the ipad " wasn't here."

" We've been here before?" Yakky asked, as Beansprout looked around for a camera crew about to reveal this was a complicated joke.

"Yup," replied Callum grumpily, "at least you got to keep your name. I know about your ears by the way, but you can keep the hat on if you want."

"There's nothing wrong with my folking ears!" hissed Yakky and pulled the hat down so far it almost covered his eyes.

Flibbage continued; "This ipad, if what she says is true, contains actual words from our creatrices. They create everything around us, they weave the Plot, they keep the Rules, we petition them with our spells, they're basically our Gods!"

"Okay fine, boot up your Faerie-religion-ipad, tell us what stupid thing is gonna happen next" scoffed Beansprout, retreating deep into the safety of excessive sarcasm to avoid examining her reality too much.

Flibbage pressed the button in the corner and the screen lit up, revealing a wallpaper photo of serene looking clouds, and a tiny battery icon at 3%. There was only one app on the screen, a little snail holding an envelope, with a counter in the corner revealing there was one unread message. With trepidation she placed her tiny hand over the icon, and a message screen popped up:

Dearest Beansprout, Flibbage, Yakky, Jay...

"Who the Folk is Jay, even?" Beansprout asked, peering over the top of Flibbage's head as she and Yakky crept closer to the screen.

"Part of the prophecy? I don't remember yet." Flibbage frowned and continued reading

Dearest Beansprout, Flibbage, Yakky, Jay,
We're so sorry you have to go through this again
Too many things rest on this foundation
Too many things don't add up.

Beansprout you are our Primary Protagonist
Protect your friends, Remember what matters
We'd tell you not to touch the Sword,
But we both know you'd do it anyway.

Yakky, wear your heart on your sleeve,
Tell everyone who you are,
Keep their feet on the ground.
Get some dress sense.

Flibbage this is going to be tough,
They're never going to understand
But you'll keep telling them anyway,
Guard the plot, our brave Godmother.

When you see Jay
Tell him there will be Pizza.
When you see Dee,
Tell her there will be Blood.

Callum go home, you have homework due.

We're going to get it right this time
We probably should have made this rhyme sorry,
It would be easier to remember.
It would be a worse explanation though.

Speaking of time,
Sorry but there isn't enough of it,
To spend the next ten years waiting for you to grown up,
So we're skipping you forward.
Keep the Tablet, Flibbage
We might need to talk to you again.

And once again, sorry.

The battery icon flashed a few times and the screen faded to black, as Flibbage finished reading aloud. Beansprout had just enough time to whisper "What the Folk-" before a grinding noise started above them, as the sections of the window above began to retract into the ceiling, revealing not the sky, but a circle of white light that began to pulse and grow even brighter, a strong wind began to blow in towards the portal, whipping their hair around them and nearly stealing Yakky's hat.
The heroes looked over to Oddball who shrugged, stepped carefully out of the circle of light on the floor, and yelled over the sound of the wind, "See you in the future, Fred!"
There was a blinding flash, and then silence. The light faded to reveal Oddball alone in the room, the children and the Tablet were gone.
Oddball smiled and smoothed her hair. From a pocket in her robes she pulled a walkie-talkie and turned it on.
"This is O, do you copy?" a short pause as she waited for a reply "Yes. They were able to activate the tablet. -luckily the Faerie read it aloud so I heard everything. Yes sir, you'll have my transcript immediately. The time lapse is 10 years, that should be ample for our plans.

***