The Weewoo’s Nightmare During the 975th

      Shop owners will be selling their goods to fierce, haggling buyers. The faeries will be looking around for those worthy enough to receive a most-coveted faerie quest. The training schools will be taking in heavy bags filled with Codestones, in exchange for wisdom and power for those who seek glory. Each world will be immersed in its own unique affairs, and in each different world, all activity will rise and fall like the sun and the moon do… Everything will be flowing normally and as usual until the end of this particular day.

      Amongst the millions of Neopians who will go by the day with most relative ease, there will be one specific creature who will not find such routinary contempt. The such creature would be the White Weewoo who works at the Neopian Times Headquarters. You know, the iconic one?

      You see, every now and then, a day comes when the Neopian Times becomes a complete madhouse. It happens every twenty-five issues. This is the story of this particular Weewoo’s day, as it happened during the Neopian Times’ 975th issue.

      It wasn’t even dawn yet, and our little, white friend was sweating through a horrible nightmare.

      “What if the printers stop working at the office today? What if the messenger Weewoos are faced with a surprise hailstorm and we are forced to delay the Neopian Times for another week? What if we don’t get enough entries from every corner around Neopia? What if… what if we get TOO MANY entries?!” The Weewoo asked himself with torment, as he dreamt of the worst things which could happen during that particular day.

      Suddenly, the shaking, winged Petpet fell down from his nest bed and into the green grass, finally waking up from the terrible slumber.

      “Oh, it was just a nightmare!” He said, while singing a short tune of relief to himself. “But why did I have this nightmare once again? Could it be that today is…?”

      The White Weewoo then rose from the floor and flew back into his home inside the tree hole. Once inside, he went to see his calendar. It was hanging on a metal clip which had been nailed into the tree wall.

      “Oh gosh, the 975th issue of the Neopian Times comes out today!” He said with a gasp, as he covered his beak with his wings. Immediately after this, the little creature flew out of the tree once again, and into the bird fountain which was out in the open grass. The little Petpet rinsed and bathed itself as quickly as it could. Then, it went back in to look at itself in his small, Petpet mirror. As he looked at himself, he grabbed his ‘Neopian Times Workaholic’ engraved blue cap and sang himself some encouraging words.

      “You are the best White Weewoo in Neopia! You can do it all! These wings aren’t just for flying, they’re also made for writing!” He said, as he flexed his wings in front of the mirror.

      The Weewoo then flew out of the hole in the tree where he lived. He flew as fast as he could until he reached his office. He even left his breakfast of vegan worms untouched inside his little, tree apartment.

      As our little, winged friend arrived at his office, he found that everyone else who worked at the Neopian Times was also already there. The sun was just starting to rise, and somehow everyone was already working.

      “Could it be that they also had the same nightmare?” The Weewoo murmured as he sat at his desk. Then, the Petpet grabbed the office microphone and spoke into it.

      “Today’s comics must be extra funny! The short stories must have an extra flare! Every article has to be intriguing or it shall be deleted! Any series that is being continued must be extra entertaining! And don’t forget about the editorial section: every question must be burning hot, hot, hot!”

      As the white bird sang through the microphone, his words came out of several office megaphones, echoing throughout the halls of the Neopian Times Headquarters. They reminded everyone that today’s issue had to be extra special. Then, after communicating to everyone through the microphone, the Weewoo made sure that there was enough paper and ink in every printer in the office to last through the day.

      In that moment, the little bird’s office door was knocked on. It was the work package which included every entry that had been submitted to the Neopian Times. He now had to choose from all of those entries in order to finally create the 975th issue. The Petpet proceeded to open the package with his little beak, and started reading the titles.

      ‘Cooking with Aunt Sarah Scorchio!’… ‘What Neopet species is Dr. Sloth?… ‘Is Jelly World nothing but a conspiracy?’… ‘The Ten Things YOU Must Know Before Visiting Faerieland’… ‘Jeran’s Secrets - A Story by One of Jeran’s Unknown Aides’…

      The Weewoo went back and forth through endless titles, stories, questions, series, articles, comics, and images. As he discarded a few entries and kept others, the Petpet finally collaged everything into what looked like a rough draft of what the Neopian Times should look like by 2:00 PM. By that time, it had to be ready for delivery. Then, he grabbed the rough draft and sent it all tied down through a metal pipe. The pipe was connected to the room where the editors would create art out of the Weewoo’s directive choices.

      Then, our little friend remembered that he hand’t had breakfast yet.

      “Looks like today I’ll be having a late brunch!” He said to himself, as he opened one of the drawers in his desk and ate some Sunflower Seeds. He hoped those seeds would last him until after everything was over for the day.

      Then, the little bird flew to the delivery zone, where thousands of White Weewoos were getting ready in their delivery uniforms. As the chief Weewoo entered the room, all the delivery Weewoos stood like ready soldiers.

      “All right everyone! Today is one of those days! The 975th issue of the Neopian Times! Everyone ready? If anyone is ready, chirp NOW!” The Petpet sang with surprising command.

      All of a sudden, the room was filled with loud chirps which actually sounded quite beautiful, as if everyone was ready and in tune with everything that was going on.

      “Wonderful!” The chief Weewoo said. “That’s the Weewoo spirit!”

      Suddenly, thousands of Neopian Times issues started falling down from metal pipes which were connected to the printing rooms. They fell perfectly rolled into the bags of the delivery Weewoos. Then, all the delivery Weewoos flew away in a beautiful cloud of white. They all sang their tunes together until all the creatures started separating, flying away in the direction of the Neopian land where they had to hand out the Neopian Times in.

      “We did it once again…” said our friend in awe, as he watched all the delivery Weewoos part. Then, he opened the 975th issue of the Neopian Times which had fallen in front of him for his own pleasure to read. On the front page, there was a series of pictures of our hard-working, White Weewoo friend. These photos detailed the hard work that our buddy put into the issue, just like with every other issue. One of his co-workers had secretly snapped many pictures of him working throughout the day.

      ‘On this particular issue, we would like to thank our Weewoo-in-chief: The Iconic White Weewoo of the Neopian Times! Without him, none of these special issues would’ve ever been possible’

      As the White Weewoo of the Neopian Times read this, a small tear fell down his feathery cheek. Then, his stomach started grumbling. The Sunflower Seeds that he had eaten that morning had since long been digested.

      He then took a breath, and he knew that he loved his job because he was willing to give it his all every day for the Neopian Times to always put out a clean, intelligent, high-quality issue.

     The End.