Help! My Stamp Is Stuck!

     In spite of all this, he had made it through the gruelling shift. It would be tempting to say that Sunny was here out of the goodness of his heart. That helping the wounded and doing his part to resist the voidlings was its own reward. But no, Sunny was here for one thing, and one thing only: the prized Neopian Hospital Stamp.

     With bated breath, he held out a trembling paw. Dr. G (who agreed to appear in this story on the condition that we identify him only by his initials) reached out, and grabbed it with his own. Sunny paused and blinked twice. “No, that wasn't a handshake. Where's my stamp?”

     “Oh sorry, my bad,” Dr. G stuttered. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small square envelope. Sunny's eyes lit up. This was what he had been waiting for. Those hours of suffering were about to pay off. He had heard stories about the unimaginable riches that stamps could bring. How Neopians would gather outside the Post Office in the hundreds, waiting for the exact moment new stamps went on sale. Could you believe it, all that was about to be his!

     “So we'll see you here tomorrow?” Dr. G chirped. But Sunny was long gone.

     ***

     Sunny was exhausted, but there was one more thing he had to do. He rushed to the National Neopian Bank, put the stamp into his safety deposit box, and made a beeline for the Dice-A-Roo parlour. He didn't win a single game but instead saw a Draik fly overhead, smelled a freshly painted Swamp Gas Techo, and attempted to catch a Schnelly. He'd also been approached by a large Orange Skeith named Gordos, but was too scared to speak to him and ran away.

     Mission accomplished. With his mind finally at ease, Sunny returned to his Neohome and hastily bolted the door. No random events could get him now! With a glint in his eye, he pulled out a large brown tome from his bookshelf (for the purposes of continuity, let's assume Sunny had already gone back to the bank to withdraw the stamp before this). Engraved in gold on its cover were the words “MY STAMP ALBUM”.

     Sunny wasn't too fond of the design. The font was a bit dated (definitely pre-Y10) and the kerning was off. There were also four white spots that gave Sunny flashbacks to the many days he'd spent in the Altador Observatory (as well as the many nights, after he realized that you couldn't see stars in the day). That was his last “get rich quick” scheme, which he ultimately abandoned after finding out that Altador's finances were in complete disarray (something about their tax collector running around and giving out stamps instead of, y'know, collecting taxes).

     But none of that mattered now. Sunny carefully laid the Neopian Hospital Stamp onto the 2nd position of the 4th row of the 6th page of the stamp album (don't ask, it was just a feeling). As if by magic, the corners of the stamp instantly melted into the weathered brown paper. Sunny grabbed frantically at the page, but it was all in vain (and not just because he lacked opposable thumbs). “Help!” he cried. “My stamp is stuck!” Somewhere out there, a counter went from zero to one.

     ***

     Whenever Sunny encountered a problem, he knew who to call. He and Snargan, the Meridell Castle treasurer, were the unlikeliest of friends, but they'd bonded over names that started with the same letters and a shared love for braku berry juice. Who am I kidding, Sunny hated braku berries, but he loved the stories Snargan would tell–many of which involved detailed descriptions of Meridell Castle’s secret passages–after the fourth or fifth flask.

     “Snargan!” Sunny called out as he sauntered towards the castle walls. “Snunny!” Snargan beamed.

     “Snargan, I need your help,” Sunny ventured. “I have this stamp–definitely not anything valuable–that’s stuck on a piece of paper.”

     “Whenever I have a problem, I throw money at it,” Snargan said with a smirk. “I mean that literally. Here, try this.”

     Snargan tossed Sunny a coin from the massive pile behind him. Sunny tried using the coin to dig the stamp out from the page (because that was surely the most logical thing to do). Without warning, the pages began to turn, and the coin nestled snugly into the 4th position of the 5th row of the 12th page of the stamp album (a completely random destination that’s definitely not hinting at anything else). “Wha-?” Snargan screeched. “But that's not even a stamp!”

     Snargan’s protests were cut short by a timid knock on the door. “H-hi, is this the… the treasury?” A hesitant voice wandered through the musty room.

     “Quick, in here!” Snargan motioned to Sunny, who jumped into a barrel of rotten cheese with surprising enthusiasm. Snargan threw open the heavy castle doors, and in waddled Little Timmy the Tuskaninny.

     “I h-heard from my friends… my friends, that I could play… a g-game?”

     “A game?” Snargan scrambled to recover. “Yes, yes, a game. It's called Double or Nothing. You see this coin here? If it lands on heads, you win, but if it lands on tails, I win. Completely fair, I assure you. It costs 10 Neopoints to play, and each time you win…”

     “Yeah yeah, I get it,” Little Timmy snapped. “Can we start already?”

     Snargan was slightly taken back by Little Timmy’s change in demeanour, but carried on anyway. “Alright,” he announced. “Here goes nothing!”

     The coin hung in the air for a half second, before spinning furiously and landing on the wooden table. Heads.

     “Hang on, that coin was supposed to have tails on both sides!” Snargan cried out. Snargan accused Little Timmy of cheating. But Little Timmy was NOT CHEATING - D’OH!

     Snargan scratched his head in confusion. “That coin… Snunny!”

     ***

     King Skarl was going through his daily routine. He groomed his pet Snowbunny with a red long hair brush (despite it clearly having short hair), took his robe off and put it back on (twice, just to be safe), and bought three icy snowballs from the Healing Springs (which promptly melted under the Meridell sun).

     Once all that was done, he made his way to the treasury, where Snargan had put up a life-sized Red Pteri cutout in front of the entrance, hoping to block anyone from entering. King Skarl shrugged his shoulders and walked straight in.

     “Hey Snargan, you really gotta fix that ugly brick wall behind you,” he boomed. “Maybe stop by Dacardia to get one of those fancy new ‘paint rollers’ I've been hearing about. You could even get yourself a glow up while you're at it!” King Skarl chortled to himself. “Heh that was a pretty good joke. I give it a 700 out of 1000.”

     Snargan took a deep breath. King Skarl ignored him and kept going, “I guess I should have noticed it earlier, but there was always that huge pile of money in the way… hey, where's my money?”

     “Um, Kiko Lake?” Snargan offered.

     “Ugh, not again,” King Skarl grumbled. “Security here has really gone downhill since all our staff left for the National Neopian Bank. Something about free toasters, blah blah. Even the trading post on Mystery Island does a better job than us, and it's literally a stump in the ground.”

     “Anyway, did they mention when they'll give it back?”

     “Um…” Snargan stuttered, unsure how to respond. “Hey Skarl, what do you do if Fierce Peophins has eaten too much tin of olives?”

     “That was the worst joke ever! I give it a 0 out of 1000! Leave my kingdom now!” *Grrrrrrrr*

     Snargan hopped into a (second) barrel of rotten cheese and rolled out the castle doors.

     ***

     Back at Kiko Lake, Sunny and Little Timmy were engaged in an intense game of Kiko Match. “They all look the same!” Sunny threw his arms up in frustration.

     “Hey, you're not allowed to say that,” Little Timmy warned. “It's really insensitive. You know, the Kikos have actually faced lots of discrimination throughout their history, especially when the Jubjubs…”

     “No, like, they’ve literally all turned grey,” Sunny interjected.

     “Oh, I guess you're right.”

     In the background, bolts of violent purple flashed across the horizon, accompanied by Torakor’s valiant battle cries. A loose grape fell from the sky and hit Sunny on the head. “Definitely the last time I book non-refundable tickets,” he lamented.

     Still, Sunny had cause to celebrate. He smirked as he proudly recounted how he had navigated the labyrinthian castle passages in his barrel of rotten cheese, a skill honed from years of practice at Cheeseroller (before they finally told him that you didn't need to roll with the cheese).

     Along the way, he’d even met a Draik called Sir Valrigard, who gave Sunny a long lecture on how difficult it was to escape from Meridell Castle. Sir Valrigard was clearly a dangerous criminal, and in a fit of righteousness (or maybe just impatience), Sunny threw a passing Korbat at him and sent him back to level one.

     Sunny now had billions of coins from the Meridell Castle treasury. At last, part two of his plan could be set into motion. Sunny headed to the Wishing Well.

     ***

     Despite his name, Sunny wasn't the brightest of Neopets. Once in his younger days, he had eaten way too many Staring Neggs on a dare and never really recovered from the experience. To Sunny, typing was a terror. He'd be turned away at the gates of the imperial exam. If you asked him to spell, he'd starve.

     And so Sunny stared nervously at the blank piece of paper in his hand. “WHAT ITEM DO YOU WISH FOR?” a loud voice boomed. Followed by a quick disclaimer: “Please note, the magic well isn't very clever and will sometimes get confused as to what you want. So please… spell correctly!”

     Sunny tossed his first coin into the well, wishing for a “Newpean Housepittle Stemp”. Nothing.

     “D-don’t be silly,” Little Timmy tutted. “It’s stamp with an… an A.”

     “S…T…N-N-A…M…P?” Sunny spelled out hopefully. Still nothing.

     “Maybe you need to use more coins,” Little Timmy suggested. “How about 48673? That seems like a nice, round number.”

     And so they kept going, listing out letters and counting out coins. To relieve the boredom (or, shall we say, monotony), Little Timmy pulled up a chair, made himself a cup of Rancid Dung Coffee, and read a book or something. As his intelligence went up by 1-2 points, he was struck by a moment of inspiration. “Let's ask the Shop Wizard!”

     Sunny carefully spelt out his latest attempt. “I did not find anything. :( Please try again and I will search elsewhere!”

     “I did not find anything. :( Please try again and I will search elsewhere!”

     “I did not find anything. :( Please try again and I will search elsewhere!”

     “I did not find anything. :( Please try again and I will search elsewhere!”

     “1NP.”

     “Wait… what?” Sunny paused. “This has got to be one of those manufacturing errors I heard about. Maybe they just need a better printer… no! I want the real deal.”

     Sunny headed back to the Wishing Well and tossed in his final batch of 48,673 coins (somewhere in between, they had added commas). He was met with silence.

     Dejected and discouraged, Sunny wandered aimlessly through Neopia Central, finally ending up at the Money Tree. He'd often avoid this part of town, turned off by the stench.

     He knew for a fact that Gilbert the Gelert Farmer had been using the Money Tree to launder berries for years. Unsuspecting tourists would head over to Meri Acres Farm and pay good money, only to end up with a basket of half-eaten berries they would then donate to the tree or discard at the nearby rubbish dump. Each night, Gilbert would diligently gather the unwanted berries and stash them back at his farm.

     It was the perfect con. Sunny just wished he had thought of it himself. Oh, the benefits of being a landowner. His mind started to wander…

     And then he saw it! Buried under a pile of rotten old boots and forgotten maps of the forgotten shore… it couldn't be!

     Sunny dived head first into the pile of items, tossing aside anything that stood in between him and the stamp.

     Pea wearing a Santa cape? Nope, Sunny hated vegetables and Christmas. A torn goodie bag that looked like it was at least 20 years old? Its contents had probably gone bad by now. A flimsy wooden slingshot? Sunny snapped it in two without a second thought. (“Hey I think that's mine!” Little Timmy protested in vain.)

     Nine items later, Sunny was almost there. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a large red-striped scarab scuttling towards the stamp. He hastily flicked it away with his paw, eager to seize the real prize.

     Sunny reached out triumphantly, only for a Blue (?) Acara to pounce out from the branches. “Oops! Too late...somebody seems to have taken that item while you were pondering.” The Acara put on the saddest face she could muster.

     “But… but it's right there!” Sunny gestured.

     “Oops! Too late...somebody seems to have taken that item while you were pondering.” The Acara’s voice got louder.

     Sunny continued to protest. The Acara’s gaze grew even more intense, and her horns stiffened. “Oops! Too late! Too late! Too late!” she shrieked.

     Sunny backed away slowly, vowing to return after a few more visits to Coltzan’s Shrine. Once the coast was clear, Ylana Skyfire let out a smirk. “Dr. Sloth has hired me to make sure his plan is carried out perfectly. Believe me, he pays very well,” she said to nobody in particular.

     Ylana carefully picked up the stamp and withdrew a large brown tome from her coat. As if by instinct, she opened it up to the 2nd position of the 4th row of the 6th page.

     “That should keep it safe while I make my way back to the space station.”

     The End.