Leaderwulf

I finally found my one remaining copy of a spoof of Beowulf I did as a report in my senior English class in high school!! I've been looking for it for ages and it just magically appeared in my filing cabinet! Woot! So now I'm going to subject you all to it, just as it was written in 1996. The format was copied from the version of Beowulf we read in  class :)

Leaderwulf

Introduction

Though some elements of this story may seem foreign to you, the hero himself should seem very familiar. He embodies many of the virtues we still admire in the heroic "dragon slayers" of today: Leaderwulf has great hair, healthy teeth and gums and doesn't wear much.

The setting of the first part of the epic is Perot, a guest-hall, or "mead hall" (Mead is a name-brand paper company that works out of Perot's basement). The hall had a central place in Anglo-Saxon society. Here, the lord's warriors could feast, drink, fraternize with loose women and (providing they were still awake), listen to the stories of a wandering bard.

You'll notice that the monser Trundle is immediately identified as the spawn of Cain (Trundle's parents never got along well and his mother takes out her anger on him). Although an affectionate nickname, Trundle was tired of hearing, "clean your room, you spawn of Cain, or you're gonna get it!" and longed to embrace the outside world.  

Characters

LEADERWULF - A Cleat; son of Hedgegrow, and nephew to Heimlich, King of the Cleats. Heimlich is Leaderwulf's feudal lord, as well as his uncle.

TRUNDLE - A monster who lives at the bottom of a "foul mere," or "resort pool." He has a reputation as a man-eating monster but is really a vegetarian and despises red meat, which gives him indigestion. He has a lazy, overbearing mother who calls him "spawn of Cain." His name might be related to the Norse "trindill," or "pull-out bed under a daybed."

KING BROTHBAR - King of the Dans (back in the days of King Brothbar's ancestors, everyone was named Dan, after the God of Fermented Beverages. After a few centuries, everyone got bored with this, and began naming their children things like "Unferth" and "Brecca," but they stayed in the land of Danmark and retained the traditional name of the Dans). Builder of Perot. Once befriended Leaderwulf's father, but nobody talks about it. His father was called Healfdan, which probably means "Half Dan," as his mother wasn't Dannish. Brothbar has a tendency to exaggerate a bit in his storytelling ("I once caught a sea monster THIS BIG," etc). His name probably means, "beer joint," or more formally, "drinking establishment."

PEROT - The gold-plated guest hall built by King Brothbar. Perot was decorated with the body parts of unliked politicians - the name means, "ear hall." Some scolars think that Perot may have been built near Lejre, off the coast of New Jersey.

BLECCA - Cheif of a tribe called Fondlings, and a friend of Leaderwulf's; sort of a nobody.

WELLTHROWN - Brothbar's wife and Queen of the Dans. Her name probably means, "nice shot."

WIGLAUGH - A Cleat warrior, one of Leaderwulf's select band (he played the tuba). Cheers Leaderwulf on at one point, but is otherwise silent. Wiglaugh might be related to Dolly Parton.

UNCOUTH - One of Brothbar's courtiers, reputed to be quite a ladies man, and known to be even better with a jug.

***

It all started when the Dans started partying at Perot. Day after day, Trundle sat in his foul mere, listening to the harp and the drinking songs, the yelling and the fishing stories. The Dans confused Trundle. "What do they do up there all night?" he wondered. So one night when the noise died down, Trundle gallumphed up the hill to check things out. One look in the door and he realized his mistake; the men were sprawled in sleep, smiling with unsavory dreams.

As he watched, one of the Dans awoke and saw tne monster. "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!" he bravely screamed.

"Shhhh!" whispered Trundle, "quiet!!"

But the warrior continued to scream, waking thirty other men, then passed out in fear. At the sight of Trundle, the thirty men began to shreik. In a desperate attempt to shut the men up, he snatched them up and shoved them in his mouth. When he saw that the other Dans were waking, he slunk out of Perot and back down the hill, trying to escape the embarrassment involved in the social faux pas of going to a party and ending up with thirty of the guests in your mouth.

When he got back to his foul mere, he spit out the bedraggled Dans. Trundle warned them that they'd better get out before his mother woke up. But those hot-headed Dans just made a bigger ruckus, threatening to give Trundle what for.

"What for?" asked Trundle.

"Yeah!" shouted one of the Dans. "You heard us! We're gonna give you what for!"

"But...what for?" repeated Trundle, more confused than ever.

But the warriors didn't answer him. They just kept on waving their swords and shouting insults until they woke Trundle's mother. Her voice shouted to them from the dark depths of the cave.

"Trundle!" she bellowed. "You dirty little spawn of Cain! You shut your friends up or I'll come out there and make them wish they'd been drowned at birth!"

"MOM!! You're embarrassing me!"

True to her word, Trundle's mother came out and devoured every last one of the thirty men.

In the morning, after a trip to the john and a cup of black coffee, King Brothbar saw there had been some trouble. He apologized to his warriors, and, with tears in his eyes, said, "Hey...stuff happens."

Reassured, they set about dividing up the the belongings of the deceased and had breakfast.

Eventually, word got around to Leaderwulf in his far away home. Yes, Leaderwulf! Heimlich's follower and strongest of the Cleats. And the bravest of the Cleats, having more testosterone than the 49ers.

King Brothbar, hearing that Leaderwulf was on his way, sent his old servant Wulfguy to meet him at the pier. But, he was an old man, and by the time he got to the door to leave, Leaderwulf and his gang were there. He instructed them to leave their weapons at the door, and showed them in to Brothbar.

Here, Leaderwulf made a moving, if long-winded speech, concerning Trundle and himself, the gist of which was that he would fight the monster.

King Brothbar suddenly looked up, and his eyes lit up. "Leaderwulf!" he shouted joyfully. "You're here!"

The King then also made a moving, if long-winded speech about how happy he was and, "oh, we must have a brandy," and so on.

Then Uncouth, who had been sitting unnoticed at the king's feet, spoke up. "Leaderwulf," he sneered, "don't I remember you challenging Blecca to a swimming match - and losing?"

Leaderwulf had an answer for everything. "Uncouth, my friend," he replied, "you are drunk. Yes, Blecca and I were young and boastful. We swam together for awhile and were separated; I hear he got home unhindered. For the most part I did, too, except for a few sea monsters. I fought and killed about nine of them, then swam home. But just let me mention, Uncouth, that I've never heard of YOU fighting any sea monsters, but, say, didn't you kill your own brothers? See? You're going to hell, so nya! If you weren't such a wuss, you could have dealt with Trundle yourself, but NO! You had to send for me. Don't worry, though. I'll get the big, bad monster myself, so TTHHHLBPT!!" Leaderwulf concluded as he nobly wiped spittle off his chin.

Brothbar sat listening happily to all of this. It had been a long while since there had been a quarrel between his men, and the tension was good for his heart. Anyway, Brothbar believed in Hedgegrow's son, and knew that, at last, he'd be able to have a decent clambake without having to worry about that pesky Trundle.

Just then, in walked the lovely Wellthrown, Brothbar's wife. She greeted her husband, and then the warriors. She was reputed to be a woman who knew what was right. As such, she broke out the brew and everybody toasted Leaderwulf. He stood and made a short speech.

"When the guys and I set sail, we knew what we were in for. And we're ready. Cool."

"Here, here!" shouted Wiglaugh, and blew a few notes on his tuba. A cry of drunken approval burst from the men, and the feasting began.

Despite Leaderwulf's fancy words, King Brothbar and his followers were uneasy that night as sleep came upon them.

They were tense for good reason, for Trundle was on his way. His mother had sent him off for some more Dans for dinner; it seemed all she ever wanted for dinner these days was take-out.

"Go up to Perot and get some Dannish!" she'd whine.

Trundle was tired of her and had decided to run away. So, on this night of Leaderwulf's boasting, Trundle left his home for good, on the pretense of getting his mother take-out. He had just set out when a terrible storm hit. He was drenched and frozen by the time he was passing Perot, and he decided to sneak in and spend the night. It was warm in the hall and he settled right in, being as quiet as possible. He knew how uppity those Dans could get.

Unfortunately for Trundle, Leaderwulf had been lying awake and had seen him enter. Leaderwulf jumped up from his bed, ran at Trundle, and whacked off one of his arms.

"HEY!" shouted the sleepy Trundle.

"I will slay thee, monster, for I am Leaderwulf, nephew and servant to Heimlich! I am the strongest and the bravest of the Cleats in all of Danmark! You chose foolishly to invade Perot tonight!"

"I? Invade? Nay little man, don't get uppity, I just came in to get away from the storm and you lopped my arm off!"

"Nay yourself, spawn of Cain! You came here to slay and devour the helpless sleepers in this great hall of Perot!"

"Helpless? You lopped my arm off! I don't call that helpless! And where did you get this devour stuff? Me? Devour people? Why would I devour people?"

"Well, why not? We're not good enough for you? You come here every night according to my king, and gorge yourself on Dans. They say thousands have been slain!"

"AWW! ONE TIME I came here, I took thirty guys and I didn't even eat them, my mom did! I don't even eat red meat, it gives me indigestion!"

"You're kidding!" Leaderwulf laughed.

Just then, all of the other warriors began to wake. They saw Leaderwulf, his sword ready in one hand, and the severed arm of Trundle in the other. Trundle was in front of him, on all three's.

"KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM!" the Dans began shouting.

"But I didn't DO anything!" Trundle insisted. "I don't eat people! I eat plants! But, I can't expect you to believe me. Fine! Kill me! Kill me! I can't run away from you anyway, I only have ONE ARM!" Trundle fell to the floor, face up. "Here's my heart. Stab it! Kill me, kill me! But just don't come cryin' to my dead body when my mom comes after you!" And there he lay, chest exposed.

The Dans were shocked. They had never encountered this before. A passive-agressive vegitarian monster with an overbearing mother? King Brothbar was summoned to the scene. The warriors explained the situation to the king. King Brothbar considered the situation deeply. Finally, he seemed to reach a conclusion.

"Can he Lambada?"

It turned out he could.

So, Trundle moved into Perot, and defended it from other monsters. His arm was put up on display in the hall, and life returned to normal.

But, in a few months, Trundle's mother huffed up to the gates of Perot. It appeared she was doing her dirty work herself.

"I'm hungry!" she bellowed.

Leaderwulf headed towards the door and drew his sword, but a voice behind him made him stop.

"I'll take care of this!" It was Wellthrown, their queen.

The warriors stood aside from the door, and watched the queen in awe. Wellthrown took Trundle's arm from the wall, opened the front door, and threw the arm out at Trundle's mother. She slammed the front door and rejoined the party. Everyone was impressed with the queen's overhand, especially the king.

"Huh," he said. "Nice shot."