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#56908
Alt 08.02.23, 20:08:10
Coke
Benutzerbild von Coke
Registriert seit: 14.04.06
Alter: 34
Geschlecht: ♂
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Once upon a time, in a quaint village, there lived a beefy cat named Tawny. He was a peculiar tyke, with a tabby coat and whiskery tuft on his tail. Tawny lived a dull life, huddled up in a cozy corner of his owner's house, until one day, a flutter of excitement stirred within him. Tawny had always been fascinated by the flocks of birds that swooped and swished above the hedges, so he decided to take a closer look. Craning his neck, he followed the birds as they flew higher and higher into the sky. Suddenly, a tantrum of rage overcame Tawny as he saw a bird clutching a tin in its beak. Tawny was so enraged that he let out a loud, ear-piercing yowl and started running after the bird. The bird, sensing the danger, immediately started to flutter away, with Tawny in hot pursuit. Tawny's owners, who had been observing the scene from a distance, were at first taken aback, then sensible to the situation, and quickly put on their earmuffs to block out the commotion. Tawny chased the bird, with his fur slinking and his tail flicking back and forth, until finally, he reached the bird. With a final burst of energy, Tawny jumped into the air and clutched the tin in his paws. The bird, now thoroughly rattled, flinched and faltered for a moment, then flew off into the sky, leaving Tawny to bask in his victory. Tawny let out a triumphant meow and started to rejoice, until he noticed his owners walking towards him with stern expressions on their faces. Tawny's owners were exasperated, but they could not help but admire the bravery of their peculiar cat. They pursed their lips, trying to hide their amusement, as Tawny proudly showed off his prize. Tawny could feel their pinpricks of pride, and he could not help but quiver with excitement. As they walked back home, Tawny's owners gingerly took the tin from him, and Tawny followed them, glumly. When they arrived home, Tawny's owners carefully opened the tin and found a warm, fresh bun inside. Tawny's owners dabbed at their eyes with a lace handkerchief, then grudgingly shared the bun with their shaggy cat. Tawny, who had never tasted anything quite like it, savored every bite. From that day on, Tawny's life was no longer dull, and he lived a happy, adventurous life, astride his owners.
Once upon a time, there was a scrawny cat named Sweetums who lived in a small apartment. One night, as Sweetums crept across the mantelpiece, he noticed a brass clock that had never been wound. Sweetums rapped his paw on the clock, causing it to screech loudly. Frantic, he tried to fix it with Sellotape, but that only made things worse. Just then, a group of hoodlums burst into the room, looking for something valuable to steal. Sweetums leapt from the mantelpiece and turned to face the intruders. With a fierce growl, he slugged the closest hoodlum, causing the others to wail in terror. Sweetums was a brave cat, but he was no match for the hoodlums. They jabbed and gibbered at him, straining to catch the frightened feline. Suddenly, one of the hoodlums spotted a glistening object on the mantelpiece and lunged for it. But Sweetums was faster. With a mighty leap, he snatched the object - a beetroot - and wolfed it down in one gulp. The hoodlums were revolted, but Sweetums just merrily licked his chops and gave them a beady-eyed wink. As the hoodlums slunk away, defeated, Sweetums settled back onto the mantelpiece and cleaned his fringe. From that day on, he was known as the protector of the apartment and no one dared to mess with him again.
Once upon a time, there was a tortoise named Tim who lived in a small village. Tim had a limp, so he had to use crutches to get around. Despite this, he was a very comprehensive creature and was fond of parading through the village, showing off his maroon tailcoat. One day, as Tim was ambling down the street, a gruff voice twanging from above caught his attention. He looked up to see a parrot perched on a window sill, bawling loudly. Tim clutched his crutches and croaked, "What's the matter?" The parrot replied in a voice full of sorrow, "The village is in trouble! A group of scruffy hoodlums have taken over the dairy and are pacing up and down, dangling their filthy mouldy ragged tailcoats." Tim didn't hesitate. He hobbled down the street as fast as he could, clutching his crutches and ploughing forward, despite the pain in his limp. As he approached the dairy, he could hear the hoodlums snivelling and rattling the doors, trying to get in. With a fierce determination, Tim crept up behind the hoodlums and grabbed one of their twanging tailcoats. The hoodlum spun around, ferociously, but Tim was ready. He pulled the tailcoat with all his might and sent the hoodlum flying into a pile of tinned porridge. The other hoodlums were so shocked that they just stood there, staring as Tim continued his attack, splattering porridge and ragged tailcoats everywhere. In no time, the dairy was freed and the hoodlums had fled. Tim emerged from the dairy, his tailcoat damp and stale, but his heart overflowing with joy. The parrot swooped down, perching on Tim's shoulder and gleefully bobbing its head. As they walked down the street, Tim could hear the villagers' footsteps following behind, cheering and applauding. Tim may have been timid, but he had just shown that he had the heart of a hero. The villagers lifted Tim up on their shoulders and paraded him through the village, his tailcoat now tufting in the wind. Tim snivelled tears of joy, realizing that he was no longer just a tortoise with a limp, but a true hero of the village.
Once upon a time, there was a small village surrounded by a dense forest. In the center of the village was a small pub, where the villagers gathered to drink and tell tales. One night, as the villagers sat around the fire, a stranger stumbled in, covered in dirt and holding a large, glinting emerald. The stranger was fidgeting and looked bewildered, as if he had just escaped from a dangerous situation. He took a big swig from his flask and said, "I need a poker, quick!" The pub owner handed him a rusty poker, and the stranger began to chip away at the emerald. Suddenly, the door of the pub burst open and a group of rough-looking bandits stormed in, shouting and brandishing their weapons. "Hand over the emerald!" one of them shrieked. The stranger clamped the emerald in his hand and sprang to his feet, brandishing the poker like a sword. The bandits closed in, and the stranger skidded on the ice that had formed on the floor. He stumbled, but regained his balance and began to fight back with ferocity. The fire in the fireplace blazed higher as the stranger battled the bandits, and the villagers shrank back in fear, quailing at the sight. The stranger fought like a madman, his eyes blazing, and the bandits started to fall one by one. Finally, the last bandit turned to run, but the stranger seized him by the collar and snarled, "Where did you get this emerald?" The bandit gasped and stammered, "From the dragon that lives in the forest! It's said to bring great wealth to whoever possesses it, but it's guarded by the dragon's minions!" The stranger let out a triumphant cry and said, "I'm not afraid of any dragon! I've faced worse beasts in my travels." The villagers gaped at the stranger in amazement, wondering who he was and where he had come from. They had never seen such bravery before. The stranger strode out of the pub, the emerald clutched tightly in his hand, and disappeared into the forest. The villagers were left to ponder what had just happened, and they buzzed with excitement as they told each other tales of the stranger's bravery. Some said he was a crackpot, while others whispered that he was a hero. Years went by, and the villagers never saw the stranger again. But they never forgot the marks he had left on their hearts, and they still told tales of the man who had faced down the dragon and emerged unscathed. To this day, the villagers still gather in the pub to drink and remember the stranger, who had changed their lives forever. And whenever they see an emerald, they can't help but recall the story of the stranger and the dragon, and the night when the pub boomed with the sounds of battle.