Randoms

A Particularly Grumpy Ogre

The harsh midday sun beat down on the ogre's green flesh. Another thing to add to the list of things that had annoyed him that very day. He squinted his eyes, making his already ugly face even more grotesque. He could just make out the castle on the horizon. He gave his trousers a tug and marched on. His giant boot's left deep prints in the soft dirt road. He turned his head, looking back on his swamp home, hoping no one would make his day worse for when he returned.

The grey stone walls loomed above him, and he spotted someone standing atop a parapet. It was the fairest maiden he had ever seen, with flowing blonde hair. From his distance he could not make out her face but he was sure she was beautiful. He fantasized about the meal she would make, he licked his lips in anticipation. Fair maidens always tasted good. 

"Shrek? Is that you down there?" Called the fair maiden, but with a man's voice. Shrek squinted, trying to make out the woman's face. As the person came into focus he was stricken with disgust, realizing he had just fantasized about Prince Charming. He'll still taste good, he thought to himself.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm comin' in, ya hear me?" He called back up.

"No you shall not! I have been tasked with the defence of this castle and you will not pass, under order of the King!" Prince Charming called back down.

"Huh, the King you say? Well frankly, I don't much care. I'll break in if I have to,"

"You shall not!"

"I will so,"

"Will not,"

"Will,"

"Will not,"

"Will,"

"Will not,"

"Will not."

"Will,"

"Aha! Well, thank you. If you don't mind opening the gate --" Shrek said, smugly.

"Curse you . . . you, accursed  ogre! Make a fool of me again and I shall, I shall . . ." The Prince trailed off but Shrek wasn't even listening. He began to walk over to the great wooden gate.

The ogre stepped right up to the wood and raised a fist. He drove it straight into the wood and felt the fibres give way as his fist made contact. He continued to pound until there was a hole big enough to pull from. He then simply pulled the doors open and stepped into the portcullis.

As he walked into the stone tunnel he heard scraping of stone on stone and Prince Charming's laughter. He couldn't help but notice how alluring and joyous it was. He guessed they didn't call him charming for nothing.

Then he saw it, boiling oil raining down from the ceiling, turning the air hot and humid. As the burning liquid hit his skin he laughed finding it quite comforting.

"Thank you! I really have been needing a bath, even the swamp plants wilt in my presence," He called up to Charming, knowing he was waiting for cries of pain. He heard a muffled drat and the patter of footsteps on stone. He chuckled softly at Charming's stupidity.

He continued through the portcullis and ripped apart the iron gate that stood before him. He stepped through into the town. It was bustling with people, going about their daily lives. He just stood their, waiting for someone to notice him but no one did. 

Shrek cleared his throat and everyone froze. They slowly turned their heads, dreading what they were about to see. There he was, in his hideous glory standing inside of their gate. He had his hands on his hips and wore a soiled shirt and trousers. It was horrifying.

Shrek stood there smirking, waiting for the first scream. He knew no one would run until it happened. He tapped his foot impatiently, he didn't have all day. And then it happened. A long, drawn out, high pitched cry that peirced his ears and probably everyone's who was within a fifty mile radius.