Meepits of Doom!

Being a Meepit is not easy. The constant petting, hugging, and adoration from Meepit fans is not what we really want. I am writing to you, the average Neopian, on behalf of all the Meepits – we do not wish to be embraced, nor do we want to be adored by you. All we want is global domination; is that so much to ask for? You all seem to think so, judging by your hate of Doctor Frank Sloth and other potential Neopian leaders – including us, the Meepits of doom.

We, the Meepits of Neopia, are confessing to our plans. Your assumptions were correct – we are devising a plan to take over Neopia. We believed our stony gaze and cute exterior had fooled you. We thought the fact that you can mix and match our colours to go with your neopets had drawn your attention away from our secret rendezvous in the scary tree in the Haunted Woods. From now on, we want Neopians running and shrieking from us sporadically.

It is true. The conspiracies, the plans, all the gossip is genuine. We have previously had several attempts at gaining global power. The foremost was when we invaded Meridell. This raid did not go according to plan as during this raid, Turmaculus woke only to annihilate and consume most of our army. However we were not disheartened or demoralised. Primarily because many people had gained the sought after Turmaculus avatar, but also because we knew that next time, our plans would be perfect. We quickly regained our strength and planned another attack that in theory would be foolproof.

The second endeavour was a stroke of genius. We would go for the core of Neopia – the very heart and soul. Once we had Neopia Central under our belts, we were unstoppable. We parachuted in; some Meepits became tangled in the money tree but were soon cut down. We had it all arranged – we would split into groups, and invade all the shops, prepared for confrontation. It’s a shame that we never realised it was the third of the month – half price day. The majority of us were either stood on by the hundreds of restockers, or bought for a little over four hundred neopoints. This was an insult to us, as we are worth much, much more than four hundred neopoints. Those who had escaped the wrath of the rabid restockers were beaten and wounded, but by some miracle, their spirits were still high.

We soon realised that the places we had attempted to invade were the most capacious. A smaller place would ensure victory. Terror Mountain was a certain triumph. We did our research, and decided to stay away from the Snowager. We had purchased ice skates and skis, had we have needed them. The plans were perfect. We climbed to the peak of the mountain, stood on the highest cliff, and bellowed our demands – Neopia would be ours. However, bellowing was not the most intelligent thing to do. Soon after we had roared, there was an immense avalanche. We were covered in an abundance of snow. Then, we all became disturbed and alarmed when we realised that there was a lot of yellow snow surrounding us. We quickly burrowed our way out, went for a slushie, and soon forgot our problems.

By now, our spirits had hit rock bottom. We had been defeated three times, three times too many. We needed a new face to bring us hope and success. We needed someone we could rely on, we needed a leader, we needed a miracle. Doctor Frank Sloth wasn’t what we had hoped for, but he had cookies, so who were we to argue? He invited us to his Kreludan lair, gave us all a cup of tea and we all had a nice chat. Then we got down to business. Sloth suggested Tyrannia should be next, we agreed. After all, all those blundering cave idiots draw stick people on walls. Conquering Tyrannia should have been effortless. We invented a new weapon – the Meepapault. We didn’t even try to disguise ourselves with camouflage. We went in with all weapons blazing; by no means would we surrender. Thousands of Meepits, from the plateau to the horizon led by the world’s strongest green… thing. Doctor Frank Sloth stood upright, in his forceful and mighty stance. He thundered his favourite phrase, “Pitiful Neopets, you will all soon be my slaves!” only to be sat on immediately by a large Tyrannian Elephante. As you can probably imagine, we were all stunned and bewildered. We stood, rooted to the spot, looking scornfully at the Elephante, which looked around in his moronic fashion. I bellowed as loud as I could, “On with the raid!” There was an earsplitting roar from the others, and we proceeded to battle. Within ten minutes, most of our army had been devoured by swarming pterodactyls or beaten to a fine paste by Geoffrey Chia from Chia Bomber. Once a few of us had hidden out of sight under a rock for a few hours, we decided to see Twisted Roses in concert at the concert hall.

As you can see, we have more chance clambering out of the lair of the beast alive dressed as a gigantic delicious nova pop than conquering Neopia. So I am writing to you to ask for your help. If you have any Battledome weapons you do not need, please abandon them outside the scary tree in the Haunted Woods. If you do, we may have a space for you alongside our Herculean team of indestructible Meepits. Well, almost indestructible. As long as you don’t count the four defeats before we are pretty much imperishable.

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter. I trust that you have comprehended all we are asking of you, and I hope that for your sake you consider this extraordinary opportunity. Otherwise, who will know what will happen to your precious dear neohome of yours?

Yours Sincerely,

Barry the Meepit,

Destroyer of Neopia.