In a wonder story of action, adventure, and suspense, a tyrant rises to power….
Story by Miss W. I hate plagiarism, so don’t copy and paste. Please. You could get arrested, or even WORSE, you could DIE. O_O
Well, here is my awe-inspiring story:
In the scummy waters of an innocent lake roved an amoeba, desperate to have a better life than it was living, a life in which it ruled happily and all was peaceful. Sighing wistfully at his fantasies, the amoeba, whose name was Jamizah, engulfed a puny paramecium and munched.
He then saw a strange thorny-looking object just 20 microns away. It was impossible to tell what it was. Curious, he jellied toward it. He extended a pseudopod and poked it. The edges were sharp enough to pierce amoebic membrane, but it was a fascinating thing.
Jamizah placed the item on his indistinguishable head and gasped in delight—it looked and felt just like a crown.
Another amoeba rolled by after some kind of protozoan. “Get back here!” He yelled at it.
“Royal subject!” said Jamizah in a commanding voice. “Stop at once. Spreadith the wordith of my greatith rulith! Now…ith!”
At once the amoeba replied, “What’s thy title, ruler? And how do I know thou art really a king?”
“First question: I shall be knownst as the Tyrannical Amoeba…ith. And second: Kings kill who ever disagree with them, correctith? Then I am a kingith.”
“Oh my! You really are a king!” said the amoeba, amazed, and losing the medieval nonsense. “I shall spread your word at once!”
That was easy, thought Jamizah to himself. Now my dream is reality! Now I truly am a king! I shall rule this whole lake!!
Within a day, or 120 days in the amoeba world, word of the Tyrannical Amoeba had spread to the far reaches of the lake, and stupidly, Jamizah was now recognized as a peaceful, kind ruler. The amoebas had bad vocabulary in those days, and to them, the word “tyrannical” was just a synonym for “awesome.”
When the Tyrannical Amoeba found his throne at the center of the lake, young amoebas even started to say things like, “Hey, that new paramecium catching machine is tyrannical! I wish I had one!”
The area surrounding Jamizah’s throne became known as Jamopolis, the capital of the lake.
Jamizah underwent an immediate change after his up rise. He was now ruder than ever, though still worshipped.
“Get me a paramecium, pronto!” snapped the Tyrannical Amoeba to one of his numerous servants. “Make it a juicy one, too.” He had grown from a puny 210 microns in length while still to 281 microns.
Reluctantly the servant roved away in search of the food. He was one of the most mistreated of the servants and had a couple of welts on his membrane.
Instead of finding the paramecium as requested, the amoeba, called Jellita, left Jamopolis. He was sick of being whipped for no reason by the flagella of dead microorganisms. Angrily he removed his royal uniform and set off. No one would notice his absence.
Jellita had to move fast. Luckily it didn’t take him too long to find a sheltered hiding place. Someone needs to deal with this evil king. I will make a rebellion. He couldn’t think of any friends who hated the Tyrannical Amoeba, thus he began to multiply nonstop.
There were over a hundred of them now. Jellita laughed hysterically. “Let us overthrow Jamizah!” He screamed at his army.
A royal spy, though, had seen the entire thing. The spy amoeba rolled away in a hurry, found a messenger amoeba, and told him, “Deliver this news to the Tyrannical Amoeba—quickly! A rebellion is rising!”
In turn the messenger amoeba rolled away and came toward the throne of the king. “O Tyrannical Amoeba,” the messenger began.
“What in the name of E. Coli do you want?” Shouted the Tyrannical Amoeba viciously. “I don’t have time for you fans. I don’t do autographs, you hear me? Get it through your thick little nucleuses and leave me alone!”
“Tyrannical Amoeba, an army of rebels is being raised to overthrow you. We must stop them—“
“We must stop them!” Interrupted Jamizah. “Multiply and raise my army. We will crush them.”
“Yessir.” The multiplying began. The Tyrannical Amoeba did not multiply, though, in case he would overthrow himself.
That night the rebels charged Jamopolis. They had made swords from who-knows-what, as the royals had.
Jellita was at the front of his army; Tyrannical Amoeba’s commander, Maj, and the front of the royal army.
“Attack!” screeched Jellita, and his amoebas rolled forward to attack the opposing force. Tyrannical Amoeba’s army met the charge, and the battle began to rage.
Meanwhile, directly above the battlefield, an innocent boy and his father were fishing. Well, the father was fishing, but the boy just sat in the boat and stuffed his face with beef jerky.
He had smuggled a salt-shaker along, as well, because he hated jerky without a good amount of salt. But the boy had poor coordination and was holding both the salt shaker and beef jerky above the thick, algae-ridden water.
Suddenly he accidentally dropped the salt shaker into the water along with the jerky, and cried out in anguish. “My salt!” He then threw the bag of jerky on the floor of the rowboat and pouted.
All the while his dad ignored him, rolling his eyes as the salt shaker sank to the bottom of the lake, where the amoebic battle was taking place.
“Salt!” yelled a rebel fearfully. He had sensed the sinister compound first, but both armies ignored.
“Don’t try to make us surrender!” scoffed Maj. But within a few moments the salt burned through his membrane and fatally damaged his vacuoles. He keeled over.
It was too late to evacuate now; the salt was all around them, suffocating. All the royal army died, and the whole rogue army was killed too. All but one who escaped at the last second, coughing violently.
This one was named Jamelly, a noble rebel who believed in peace and prosperity for all amoebas, everywhere.
Good thing I didn’t fight, the Tyrannical Amoeba reflected indifferently. Well, at least those pesky rogues are all dead.
He hadn’t seen the shaken, scarred Jamelly escape slowly, looking back miserably at the death trap.
Jamelly rested a distance away from Jamopolis. The next morning he rolled back toward the dark place and saw a royal messenger.
“Hello,” Jamelly said.
“So. Are you a messenger?”
“Yeah. Who the heck are you?”
“And you’re not talking like you want to kill me?”
Jamelly spat on the ground. “I’m a peaceful rogue.”
“You know what? If a royal spy is watching us, I’ll get fired if I don’t kill you right now.”
“Oh, perfect,” muttered the brave Jamelly, then louder, he said, “Bring it on.”
The two amoebas fought for a good 12 seconds before Jamelly, who was slightly larger than the royal amoeba, engulfed his opponent. Silently the bold single-celled organism stole the messenger’s uniform and dressed up as a royal messenger. He went to the Tyrannical Amoeba carrying a false message.
“What now, fool?” snarled the tyrant. “For Ebola’s sake, spit out what you want me to hear!”
“Two of the rebels survived. They’re making yet another army.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” boomed Jamizah. “Fetch me a paramecium. I need to think.”
Hatching a risky plan, Jamelly answered, “Yessir. But if I may suggest anything, sir, resting is a great time to think. You can rest and think while I am looking for the largest, juiciest paramecium for you to digest.”
The Tyrannical Amoeba had never received a suggestion before, but he slightly appreciated it and collapsed onto his indistinguishable side.
And so the brave Jamelly set off, appearing to be searching for a large paramecium. But in reality, Jamelly planned to roll in a huge circle around the Tyrannical Amoeba’s throne—a whole centimeter—and steal the crown from behind. Once he heard a young amoeba quote his words: “Without my beautiful, amazing, awesome, and tyrannical crown, I am nothing.”
Now he hoped it was true.
But the odds were in his luck now—the Tyrannical Amoeba had fallen to sleep. When Jamelly returned, he safely plucked the crown from the head of Jamizah and rolled away as fast as he could.
Away from Jamopolis the courageous amoeba went. He rolled until he was exhausted. A wall of stone rose in front of him, and in a hole in the wall was a gigantic worm of some sort.
“What in the lake is that thing?” The worm asked, looking at the crown.
“I need you to eat it.”
“I’ll only eat it if it’s alive.”
“It’s alive,” Jamelly lied. “It’s…it’s a—“
“Gimme!” hollered the worm.
The Tyrannical Amoeba awoke and realized with a start that his crown was, undoubtedly, missing from his head.
“NO!” He screamed, and called up a multiplying amoeba. “Keep multiplying and go after my messenger!” he cried. “You should be able to track him, because if you can’t, I’ll have you hanged!”
To their relief, those amoebas were able to find out the direction in which Jamelly had gone. They called themselves the Corps, and stealthily followed the thief.
When they came to the wall the massive worm was just about to devour the crown when the leader of the Corps yelled, “Stop right there! Freeze! You have the right to remain silent! You are innocent until proven guilty in the court of law! Don’t move!”
“What are you going to do about it?” said Jamelly.
“I’ll show you what I’ll do,” snarled the leader of the Corps, and shouted to the amoebas behind him: “Attack him!”
They stayed where they were.
“Are you stupid pieces of blue jelly deaf?! I said, Attack him!”
They ignored him, and then one bold Corps member said, “Uh…Sir? The Tyrannical Amoeba said himself that without his crown, he is nothing. So…uh…why should we do anything for nothing?”
“Ugh, you idiots!” The Corps leader swore, and then screeched, “Okay, then! You know what? Go home, all of you! Go home to your mommies and get hung! I don’t care! I’ll take care of this…this atrocity myself!”
The amoebas turned and marched away, toward Jamopolis.
“Give it back.”
Growing impatient, the worm ate the crown.
“Nooo!!!” Screamed the Corps leader. “Now I’m going to die!”
“Actually, you’re going to be fine. Thanks, worm. It wasn’t a living thing, by the way.”
The brave amoeba rolled to Jamopolis and the throne of the Tyrannical Amoeba.
“Where’s my throne?!” Demanded the tyrant.
“A worm ate it, your majesty,” retorted Jamelly.
Seeing the truth in his eyes, the Tyrannical Amoeba cried, “NOOOO! My dream! My life! Crushed! CRUSHED!!” Miserably Jamizah jellied away, crying as he went.
The Tyrannical Amoeba was never seen or heard from again, and once again peace and prosperity spread across the lake.