• April 3Girls trying out for volleyball tryouts are Tuesday, April 9 at Fords Middle School

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The Warrior Messenger

The Communist Corgi by Kevin S. A. Caffrey

Kevin Seamus Alexander Caffrey, Spring Editor

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In the vast cold lands of Russia, where the snowflakes the size of a man’s head  like rocks thrown off a building there was a group of one-hundred scientists or so working on Russia’s newest ambition–a spaceship set for the moon. They were working on the first phase of the ship, which they called The S.S. Nedoperepil. The ship was not developed for human travel, but to test out how hospitable it was; they chose to send a dog in what would eventually be the person’s place.

The dog in question was a corgi found on the streets. They believed the dog to have some sort of birth defect because it remained the same size after two years of testing. They chose the dog because of its small size and because it succeeded at every cognitive test they gave it on the first try.They named the dog Dmitri, but the corgi knew his true name. His true name was Banana, which was chosen by none other than his old master, Joseph Stalin.

As far as Banana knew, he was born in Stalin’s backyard. He met the dictator there and forged a deep bond with Banana, to the point that he began neglecting the rest of his family for Banana. The public was never told about Banana because Stalin didn’t want him to be scared of reporters or the paparazzi.

Banana would spend his time playing with a rubber hammer and a rubber sickle while his master had meetings with his close associates, but over time, Banana got more and more interested in Stalin’s work. He would inch closer and closer every day with his toys so he could hear Stalin clearly, and overtime he began to truly understand all of Stalin’s work. He began to think of communism all the time. He became obsessed with seizing the means of production in every aspect of his life.

After twenty-seven years of ownership, Stalin went into his bedroom and never came out. Banana didn’t know what happened to his master, but all he knew was that it made the maid shriek in horror at the sight of it. Banana knew that no one else really knew of him so they’d probably think him a stray dog who wandered in from the smell of sausage. They’d always killed animals who snuck into the building before. They had a perfect streak of killing every rat, every dove, and every sparrow who got into the building, so Banana knew he’d be treated no differently.

Banana escaped through a window on the ground floor and ran all the way down the alley behind the butcher. There he set up a home where he could eat the little scraps of meat the butcher didn’t like enough to sell. This was a good system for Banana until 7 years later when the butcher died and they bulldozed the building and all the meat in it.

Banana began running down the street away from the bulldozer as he was afraid of the sounds it made, when a man in a lab coat scooped him up and said, “Finally, after three weeks of looking!” The man placed Banana in a satchel and began running extremely fast to a place Banana didn’t know and couldn’t smell.

After a few hours of being in the satchel, he was taken out and inspected by ten other men in the same garb as the first man, all speaking in some impossible to understand jargon mostly considering blood types and hearts beating. After a few days of doing test over after test, they sent Banana into a room where he sat in a pod and shook around more than he ever wanted to.

This schedule was continued and repeated for the next two years until the “Big Day” came up.

Banana didn’t know what the “Big Day” was, but he was fairly excited.

They placed him in a much larger capsule than the pod from before and strapped him in for good measure. He couldn’t breath easily, but he knew the straps must be necessary if they were even there.

Every scientist exited the capsule and looked at him from a window on the side of the shuttle. Some of them saluted and started to sing The National Anthem.

“Why are they doing that?” Banana wondered.

The seat started to shake violently, but Banana remained unshaken as he tried to stay as firm as possible.

Eventually it stopped vibrating, but as soon as Banana looked out the window he saw the moon, but it wasn’t just that the moon was there. It was that it was getting bigger and bigger.

“I’m gonna hit it soon!” Banana thought as he barked loudly.

As the shuttle stay, a little shy of two miles from The Moon, an asteroid slammed into the ship. It began to swerve sharply to the left, away from the moon.

“Where will I be go…” Banana tried to think, but he passed out suddenly.

 

Banana woke up and began to bark incessantly. He snapped at the straps holding him in and broke free.

He saw the window he had looked out before, only seeing shattered glass in its place.

Through the hole where the window was, he saw a ginormous forest of purple-pink trees and a giant green volcano that looked to be a few thousand miles away.

Banana’s mouth dropped in astonishment and he began to pitter patter his feet on the metal floor like raindrops on a window. He found the door that he came through to enter at first and he jumped through it cheerfully.

He landed on some grass three times his height. He began to jump through the grass, the tips of his paws passing along the top of the grass.

After half an hour or so Banana grew tired of the grass started to run around in circles. After running in circles for thirteen hours, he went over to a lake about twenty feet away or so.

He went over to get a delicious sip of water, but as soon as his tongue touched the water, a net pulled him up instantly and jostled him around violently.

Although he was shaking violently, it didn’t hurt because the rope was made of some sort of soft material.

Before Banana could think of a way to escape or anything in particular, the top of the bag began to levitate, and along with that the rest of the net. He started to fly, high into the sky.

He looked down at the ground only to see a farm of cotton candy with huge green plows picking it.

“At least if I fall I’ll land in cotton candy.” He thought. Sometimes Stalin would feed him cotton candy.

After a few miles of seeing the fields of cotton candy, he saw a magnificent castle, decorated with a billion jewels of a billion colors, all haphazardly placed on the outer wall of the edifice due to their different sizes and shapes.

The balloon of a bag began to fly closer and closer to the castle, and as it did the highest window on the highest pillar of the castle opened.

“What’s gonna be in there?” Banana wondered as he began to get scared.

He envisioned it in his mind, a band of big ugly aliens out to eat his puppy body, but hye also imagined lanky bug-eyed aliens out to dissect him and inspect every inch of his body.

“I’m sure it’ll be one or the other.”

The net got closer and closer, like a magnet to a refrigerator.

He bared his teeth and growled in anticipation, ready to fight if he must.

The room was dark with low burning candles on the walls and hanging from a chandelier. There were small people in robes in pues that ran all the way down the length of the room, which Banana now realized was a magnificently large hall.

The net moved to a stage at the front of the room, and on that stage were three or four more cloaked figures that huddled around a podium.

He flew closer and closer, eventually landing on the podium.

The top of the net unraveled and revealed himself to the room.

Bursts of amazement and happiness radiated through the room, so loud you couldn’t hear anything.

Banana shuttered with fear and a morbid interest.

The attendants all pulled their hoods down and revealed their faces, but they were all slightly different.

The one right next to Banana as he sat on the podium was chubby, with a long black face, floppy ears, and a dopey smile.

The one approaching him wore a metal breastplate was covered in thick white wool, and the only part of him you could see was his black nose and his small mouth.

They were dogs like him.

“Wow.” Banana whispered, not knowing whether they were helpful or not.

Every dog on stage dropped to the floor in a formal bow, and all the seated dogs dropped row by row.

“Your majesty, welcome home.” The Black Labrador said as his tongue hung out the side of his mouth.

 

“Excuse me?” Banana questioned.

“Your majesty, thank you so much for finally returning, we didn’t know what to do while you were gone.” The Sheep Dog rejoiced as his tail blurred from side to side.

“What do you mean, your majesty?” Banana asked as he hopped off the podium, “I am no King.”

“Yes you are m’lord, here is your crown.” The Labrador said as he grabbed a golden crown decorated with peridots. He gently placed the crown on Banana’s head.

It fit so well it almost didn’t feel like he was wearing a crown at all.

“Who are you two?” Banana pondered, trying not to offend.

”I see how you may not recognize us, we were but pups when you left. I am Sir Sherlock Labradorium, your Vice King.” The Black Dog introduced himself.

“And I am Sir Pancake Sheepdoggen. Your head knight.

“Well then, it seems I must be King. Have we been to other planets yet?” Banana asked.

“No, why would we ever leave our wondrous planet?” Sherlock asked confusedly.

“Well, I made a ‘Summer Home’ on a planet called Earth and I’d like to be able to show it to all of you as soon as possible.” Banana said.

“So you have been on this planet Earth for all this time? What did you learn there?” Sir Pancake asked as he scratched his left ear.

“I learned that all property should be publicly owned and that everyone should be paid according to their abilities and their needs.” Banana puffed out his chest as he explained it all.

“What is this system called?” Theoricus asked interestedly.

“Communism, it really is lovely when you see it truly.” Banana answered.

“It already sounds spectacular. We could use this power to unite The 119 Kingdoms!” Sir Pancake practically screamed as he began to excitedly tap his feet.

Yes, in the next week we could call all The Lords of the other kingdoms and tell them of this fantastic discovery!” Sir Sherlock and Sir Pancake began to dance around each other as the rest of the crowd began to bark excitedly.

“That sounds pretty good.” Banana began to celebrate with the rest of the crowd, eventually leaping out of the chair and dancing with the rest of the crowd.

“And so it shall happen, as The King commands it. Sir Pomeranianicus, send an albatross to each Lord inviting them to this castle on the forty-second of Decembruary.”

A fuzzy pomeranian came over and agreed to the task, all the while yipping and yapping in excitement.

 

Meanwhile, in Washington D.C., John F. Kennedy sat in his chair, clearly about a few seconds away from bursting with rage.

“Sir, what if we–.” The Secretary of State, Dean Rusk, began to say but was silenced when Kennedy held his hand up.

Kennedy sat, his teeth grinding together and his fingers twisting with anger.

“How old was the dog on the flight?” The silence broke as The President asked Arthur Goldberg.

“We haven’t found that out yet sir, but we know he was a puppy.” Arthur answered, refusing to make eye contact.

“So you’re telling me,” John F. Kennedy began, “That the russians tested their new spaceship with a little corgi puppy, and didn’t give so much as a rat’s tail about this hero’s death. I know tensions between us and Russia have been getting worse, but I think this finally justifies it. We are going to war gentlemen, and I’m gonna be on the front lines.”

“How will you do that, don’t you have back problems?” Arthur Goldberg asked.

“Good question, the answer is in this closet.” Kennedy stood and opened the closet, revealing a blue titanium exoskeleton in the shape of pants.

“These legs will allow me to run up to 20 miles an hour as well as jump nearly thirty feet into the air. These arms,” he pulled out a pair of blue titanium arms in the shape of a sweater, “will allow me to lift a tank over my head as well as wield The Mighty Excalibur.”

John F. Kennedy pulled up a magnificent sword with a blue tinted hilt and placed it on the desk with a mighty thud.

“Where did you get Excalibur!?” Lyndon B. Johnson asked loudly.

“Ireland, duh!” John answered as he placed the metal arms over his suit.

“Sir, we don’t have the funds to go to war and this would probably start a nuclear world war.” Arthur Goldman advised.

“Fine then, to heck with the army. I’ll fight the russians myself. I’ll take my viking ship and–” he was interrupted by Lyndon B. Johnson.

“Where did you get a viking ship from?!!” Lyndon asked.

“Scandinavia! So I’ll sail off to Yakutsk and I’ll find an army base eventually. I’ll light my sword aflame with my greek fire–” He was interrupted by Lyndon B. Johnson.

“Where did you get Greek fire from!!!” Lyndon screamed almost.

“I want you to listen to yourself Lyndon. If french wine is from France, and Mexican food is from Mexico, where is Greek fire from?!” John asked annoyedly.

Lyndon was clearly struggling with the question. He squinted his eyes, nibbled on his upper lip, and rocked back in forth as he tried to answer the difficult question. “Um, Canada.” He eventually spat out.

“I’m rethinking my choices for my cabinet.” John said disappointedly as he made a giant hole in the ceiling with his body.

                          Part 2: John F. Kennedy Strikes Back!

All of the deals were over.

They had worked something out withy the lord of every nation, each and every ag

Banana, Pancake, and Sherlock all sat on a humongous featherbed together.

The mattress was big enough to cover the whole floor of the room they were in, which itself was rather large.

Pancake wedged out across the mattress, his eyes finally appearing as the top flaps of his wool fell off his body.

“So, why do you guys all look like dogs?” Banana asked.

The question had been bouncing around his brain for the past week or so, but he had to build up the courage to ask them, fearing that they could be offended.

“What do you mean look like dogs? We are dogs.” Sherlock answered confusedly.

“But there are dogs on Earth that look just like you guys. How are there dogs on Earth and this planet?” Banana’s bewilderment was growing rapidly.

“Well, m’lord, a hundred years ago when your father ruled the planet, aliens called Sargondazans abducted well over 2,000 puppies off the face of the planet, one of them being you. For years we suspected that they brought them all back to Sargondaza, but now we believe they spread dogs around all over the universe because we have seen them on a few other planets as well. We suspect that a few dogs must have gotten to Earth as something of a welcome present to the humans.” Sherlock explained in a matter of fact sort of way.

“Well why did The Sargondazans abduct so many puppies?” Banana asked innocently as his royal gown twisted around him.

“As you know, dogs are the greatest thing to ever grace a planet, so we think the abduction was The Sargondazans’ way of helping other species out. The only thing is that the Sargondazans don’t fully understand that the dogs are intelligent as they can’t understand our complicated language.” Sherlock finished.

“Sargondazans are stupid. When they walk they leave their slime everywhere and it smells like ink.” Pancake complained.

“So, are we going to work on getting to Earth?” Banana pondered of The Wise Labrador who sat in front of him.

“Perhaps we should start working on it in a few days. I’ll notify The Legion Of Scientists to get a move on.” Sherlock answered.

“I’ll come with, I’d like to see what the scientist of my home planet are working on.” Banana said with enthusiasm.

“I’ll go too. I hear they’re working on giant stilts.” Pancake cheered as his tail began to whip the bed.

 

The suit was a little too loose to him but at least he could breathe. The lack of space for him to breath was always what he hated most about wearing a suit all the time.

John F. Kennedy sat on the poop-deck, looking out the circular window and only seeing the occasional fish or seal.

The Suit wasn’t built with central heating, so all he had for warmth was the bottle of greek fire that he dare not open yet.

He remembered how he’d obtained the greek fire. He had ventured out into the depths of Western Beaches of Greece, right next to the Ionian Sea. He wore the first version of his armor, almost skin tight and not bulletproof, but certainly able to take a few hits from a sledgehammer. John came upon a statue of The God of Victory, Nike, and a door lay sideways along the ground, closed for thousands of years. All the locals said that all who opened it, were doomed to die a terrible death at a young age. John didn’t fear these prophecies, they were just fairy stories to him. He stood above the door and gripped the door knocker in the center of it. He ripped as hard as he could and ripped the wood straight off of its hinges. His boots clinked and clunked against the hard stone stairs for what felt like ages, but eventually he came upon the center room. A little podium made of inky black stone with a glowing container on top of it. He stepped forward, no fear in his step although he expected a trap. John saw it coming from a mile away. Ten skeletons jumped out of the shadows, each of them using scimitars and some using shields. They were no match for The Future President, taking each of them out with pinches on the neck and kicks to the ribs. After all the bones lay in a heap at his feet, He walked over to the glowing container. He grabbed it with his left hand, but instantly after, a huge bearded man appeared. The man was at least eight feet tall, his beard reached his belly button, and his body was ever so slightly translucent. The man spread his arms and began to shriek,

“ALL WHO TOUCH IT SHALL BURN!!! RALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALA!!!” The Ghost shrieked, but after a few seconds he wisped away like smoke from a campfire, his booming voice echoing for a few minutes afterward.

John decided not to question it, and instead just got out and went back in his Viking Ship and sailing back to Boston.

Will I burn he thought, Wait a second,maybe he meant burn as in the verb. Like maybe I will burn things, like filthy dog-hating Russian faces. There you go John, why should I even be The President, I should be like an english teacher or something.

 

Banana was talking to the leader of The Legion Of Scientists, but for the life of him he had no idea what he was talking about.

The Leader was a Chihuahua named Professor Chimichanga Hachitoochi, he was old as sin, small as a tennis ball, and his voice sounded like a parakeet.

For hours he droned on and on about how the rocket he came in wasn’t broken at all except for the windows and how all he needed to do was put a few more seats in and then they’d be able to send it back to Earth.

Sherlock begrudgingly stayed awake, but Pancake was completely asleep.

His fur covered his closed eyes and he sat slumped over in a chair.

Somehow no one but Banana and Sherlock could tell that Pancake was asleep despite his incessant snoring.

Half of these scientists are probably deaf, the other half are probably just too old to care if he were sleeping. Banana wondered.

For hours the little chihuahua droned on and on until he concluded his tour with a brief “And there we are.”, after which he walked into his office and slammed the door behind him.

“Alright then, now let us get Sir Pancake out of his slumber and back to the castle so we can plan out our voyage to The Milky-Way Galaxy.” Sherlock rejoiced.

 

John F. Kennedy gripped his heavy sword and laid it down over his knees.

He watched his reflection and noted how it had looked so different when he had acquired the sword.

He had traveled to the forests of Ireland to learn of his own history.

He had been separated from his brothers and left with nothing but his backpack and a few pieces of lunchmeat. John traveled for hours, every now and then screaming for his brothers, until eventually he came upon a small mountain.

He saw three knight helms at the bottom of the mountain.

He walked over to the tiny little mountain and grabbed the closest helmet.

“I wonder if it’ll fit me.” He joked as he put it on.

The helmet didn’t get past the bridge of his forehead, but it was still enough for The Wolfpeople.

“AAAAAAHHHHH!!!” John screamed shrilly as three wolfpeople thrusted at him, each one baring their teeth.

John began to bolt up the path of the mountain, but the wolfpeople simply bounded up to him with a single might jump.

John ran until his weak legs nearly gave out, but at least now he was at least thirty feet ahead of the monsters, who themselves had slowed down a bit.

John began to climb up the side of a mountain, despite that the mountain was nearly vertical at the point he tried to climb up.

He was maybe sixteen feet off the ground when the wolves jumped up and snapped at his feet. The first one missed, and the second as well, but the third ripped his shoe clean off.

John scrambled up as much as possible, not even thinking about where he was going but more just thinking about being away from the wolves’ mouths.

He came to the peak and began to catch his breath as he leaned on the sword.

A sword. He thought.

He ripped at the sword by the hilt, pulling it out of its stony home on the first try.

John didn’t think as he did it, but instead felt like an impartial observer watching some stupid man with one shoe on jump face first at three wolves while brandishing a rusty blade as thick as a man’s hand.

Even John expected himself to die, but miraculously, he opened his eyes after he landed and saw three dead wolfpeople in a heap, each returning to their human forms posthumously.

John looked at the sword, stained with blood, and stared with awe as it began to absorb the blood like a sponge.

After every drop of blood was gone, the rust on the sword disappeared and it shone like new.

Ever since then John has kept the sword in his closet, occasionally bringing it out to impress people at parties, but he had never expected to need it at a time like this.

It took him a few months to even piece together that it was the mythical (well, clearly not that mythical now.) excalibur, wielded by King Arthur.

John only noticed it now, but the sword was showing signs of rusting all along the tip.

 

Banana sat in between Pancake and Sherlock, behind them was a few thousand more dog-knights who came along in case they got into any trouble. They were on their way to Earth, and they were going to make it no matter what.

Banana wanted to stay awake the whole time, but his chair was so comfortable, and the air was so warm…

Banana sat in a cold dark room as a giant eagle flew at him.

The corgi wielded a hammer in one hand and a sickle in the other, while the bird had a laser-gun haphazardly attached to his forehead.

The beams shot at Banana, and he dodged them effortlessly.

The shots bounced off his sickle, just missing the bird of prey.

Eventually, Banana grew tired of dodging and deflecting, so he ran against the wall and jumped at the winged demon.

In one quick slice from the sickle the bird’s head was chopped off.

Banana landed first, a smirk appearing on his face as he congratulated himself in his mind. But as he quietly celebrated, tentacles leaked out of the eagle’s open neck wound, and each of the appendages were adorned with an eagle’s head on the tip.

The body swayed like it was half asleep, but the heads unraveled and swirled around the room, keeping their length completely inconsistent.

The bird’s eyes were red now, but some of them had no eyes, in their place they had holes leaking a deep black ooze.

Banana screamed as loud as his puppy vocal cords could, and then he grew embarrassed at the sight of all the dogs watching him concernedly.

“I’m sorry, I–” He stammered before Sir Sherlock jumped in.

“They’re not looking at you, your majesty, they’re looking at that.” Sherlock said as he gestured to the big blue and green planet that lay in the center of the windshield.

 

The Boat had docked.

John looked off from the poop-deck and saw the frightened expressions on all the townsfolk, not knowing whether they were scared because of his suit or because he was The President.

“Don’t worry people, I am not here for you, but instead for your leaders.” He comforted as he jumped with all his might to his target.

He was going after the Russian Army Base closest to the capitol, so he could at least fight someone who would give him a challenge before all the leaders he must kill.

John was in the air for a good while until he finally saw the base in all its glory.

“Target acquired.” He said as an unsupressable grin appeared under his nose.

He blasted at a building about a mile away from the base, close enough so that they’d know he was there and be able to prepare.

They’ll still have no chance. John thought.

He landed with a mighty crack, the boom of his landing rippling out from under his feet.

He took out the Greek Fire and placed it on the ground. He carefully took the cork out, as to not let any leak out and touch the air around him.

He dipped his mighty sword into the container, the handle’s heat could be felt even through the cyborg suit he was wearing.

He pulled out the sword with a flourish and waved it around to see what it would look like.

Like a star that I can control and use. He thought as he let the sword drift down to the ground.

Off in the distance he heard the sirens going off at The Russian Base, no doubt they were for him.

Music to my ears.

 

The ship zoomed down closer and closer to the ground.

“Go near that pointy bit, that’s Russia!” Banana yelled at the driver as he pointed to his old home.

The ship turned, slowly but surely, and soon they were on a direct course to the center of Russia.

Everyone cringed and smiled as they were slammed against the seat, Banana in particular was squealing with joy and anticipation.

After a few minutes the ship was only a few hundred feet off the ground, there the parachute deployed and allowed the ship to hang gently above The Earth.

Banana unstrapped himself and looked out the windshield.

Maybe I can see Moscow from here. He thought excitedly.

He didn’t fully know what he expected to see, but it definitely wasn’t some cyborg with a flaming sword lifting a tank over his head by the shooting part and swinging that around to smash another tank away.

The cyborg’s onslaught continued, slicing men down the middle and leaving only charred remains.

Banana couldn’t hear much, but he could make out The Cyborg screaming “Dmitri, Justice for Dmitri!!!”.

“That was the name the scientist gave me!” He semi-screamed.

The wind pushed the ship down further and further until it was only 20 feet off the ground.

Banana began tapping his feet and wiggling his tail in excitement.

“Everyone stay in here! I have a plan!” He yelled to the dogs as they cowarded backwards.

The ship landed and the windshields cracked immediately. The fight was so severe that none of the soldiers or the cyborg even noticed the ship’s landing.

Banana stood in front of the ship and barked at the cyborg, but no one could hear a single thing he said.

I’m gonna need backup. He thought.

He turned his head and yelled to his companions,

“Now everyone, charge at the cyborg!” He ordered.

Each dog jumped into action, all of them baring their teeth and barking.

They charged as fast as possible at the cyborg, but only when they were a foot away or so did The Cyborg even notice them.

“Wait.” The Man in the cyborg suit screamed just before the impact.

The dogs knocked him over immediately, like an axe to the weakest tree in the world.

The man yelped with happiness as he laid back and allowed the dogs to lick his faceplate and sit on his chest.

“Dmitri! You’re alive.” The Cyborg rejoiced as he took Banana in his hands and bounced him up and down.

Banana began to bark happily as the warm metallic hands gripped him fatherly, and to follow that the rest of the dog army began to shout with happiness.

 

Epilogue:

Banana, Sherlock, and Pancake decided to live with The Cyborg because he was only killing Russians out of a huge misunderstanding. The dogs became good friends with The Cyborg and even became ambassadors to Russia.

Banana gave up the crown and gave it to the little pomeranian servent back on his home planet.

Ever since dogs have come down every few years to go to their ‘Summer Home’, Earth

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The student news site of Woodbridge Middle School
The Communist Corgi by Kevin S. A. Caffrey