Yatta, the faithful readers have returned to read my works! Since I had Timon become a father at the end of my last fic, I'd show Pumbaa waiting for his turn. Unlike my past work, this will revolve around different memories, kinda like a clip show. I just hope I can make it better than a clip show. I had so many different memories I wanted to write about, but I hate writing short one-chapter stories, so I thought I'd just merge them into one and hope they get good reviews. Here's hoping. Oh, and don't expect every chapter up every few days... often anyway. Not totally planned out. Anyway, read on!
Remember When...?
By Kari Gilmore
Chapter 1:
Timon has been a father for two weeks now, and so far his son and daughter are still alive. So far Timon's confidence has grown, but then again his pups have yet learned how to speak, walk on their back legs, or developed a personality. On this day, the ninth day of spring, Timon and his family plan to spend the day with Timon's best friend Pumbaa to give the warthog some emotional support.
Pumbaa paced in front of the river, shaking his head and mumbling. He let out a few whimpers, sped the pacing, and then slowed back down once in a while. Timon's attention wavered between his friend's pacing and his mate Zuri tending to their pups Kito and Shani. Timon's mother and Uncle Max were standing nearby.
Pumbaa suddenly stopped pacing and sat down with a pant. "How long have I been doing that?" he asked.
"I'd say about an hour," Zuri said as she watched her son Kito try to attack a passing grub, only to miss.
"No wonder... I feel like I've been pacing for an hour." He laid down.
"I'm impressed, Pumbaa. You're handling the situation better than Timon when Kito and Shani were coming," Ma said as she walked over to Pumbaa.
"I wasn't that bad, Ma," Timon said with a furrowed brow.
"He's right, Panya... he was worse," Uncle Max said.
"Hey!"
"I guess I'm more depressed than I am worried," Pumbaa said.
"Depressed?" Timon asked. Pumbaa let out a whimper and looked away from the meerkats, sniffling. Timon's face saddened when Pumbaa's did. "Oh, yeah... I forgot."
"Forgot what?" Ma asked.
Timon drummed his fingertips together as he thought of a way to put his next sentence. "Well, lemme put it this way: Simba and I aren't the only ones who had a tragic event happen in our childhood."
"Oh, dear... what happened?" Ma asked, looking at Pumbaa with a sadden expression.
"Yeah, come to think of it, you've never told me," Timon said, putting his paws on his hips as he turned back to Pumbaa. "I mean, I'm assuming this tragic event happened in your childhood when it could've happened a week before we met. And all I know is you'll all alone in this big empty world."
"Well, it did happen when I was young," Pumbaa said with a sniffle.
"Hey, I was right about something," Timon mused.
"Do you really wanna know?"
"Well, Pumbaa, it'd be a nice change of pace... I mean, we tell you about our lives... we know next to nothing about you, at least before you met Timon," Zuri said.
"Besides, it might take your mind off worrying about Jina for a while," Uncle Max nodded.
"If you want, we can tell you some more stories after you tell us what happened in your childhood," Timon said as pat one of Pumbaa's tusks.
"Well, to be honest, I was young when it happened, so I might not remember it fully," Pumbaa said as he pushed a pebble forward.
"We can't have that." Timon rubbed his chin, and then grinned. He walked over to Pumbaa and held a spider draggling from a thread of web in front of him. "Maybe this'll help?"
"Sorry, Timon, but I'm not that hungry. Besides, I don't think bribing me will help me remember."
Timon then slowly swung the spider in front of Pumbaa's eyes. "Just watch the pretty spider, Pumbaa." Pumbaa did as he was told, watching the spider swing in front of his eyes. "You are getting very sleepy--"
"No, I'm not, Timon."
"I'm telling you you're getting sleepy!"
"OK, if you insist." Pumbaa then said in a hypnotic tone to humor Timon, "I am getting very sleepy..." He mumbled in his normal tone, "Even though I'm really not..."
"Good... you are under my control..."
Pumbaa paused for a moment. "I am?"
"You are! Now shut up until I tell you to talk."
"OK."
"Now, Pumbaa, when I snap my fingers, you will enter a deep trance and fall asleep. Understand?"
"... Can I talk now?"
"Yes, you can talk now," Timon said in a slightly annoyed tone.
"OK. Yes, I understand," Pumbaa nodded in his humoring hypnotic tone.
"Good." Timon snapped his fingers... and then he fell onto his back, snoring.
Pumbaa blinked at Timon falling asleep all of a sudden. "Timon?"
"I think his aim was off," Zuri said with a giggle.
Uncle Max walked over to Timon, sat him up, and waved a paw in front of his eyes. Timon didn't respond. "Klutz. He can't even hypnotize a warthog," he mumbled to himself. He snapped his fingers in front of Timon's eyes, and then Timon snapped awake.
"What's for breakfast?" He shook his head and then turned back to Pumbaa, furrowing his brow. "Why isn't he asleep?"
"Because I'm not really sleepy?" Pumbaa asked timidly.
"What?"
"Well, let's face it, Timon, I can't be told I'm getting sleepy when I'm really not. You're just going to have to face facts that I won't remember every single detail."
Timon walked over to Pumbaa and walked on his face up to the top of his head. "Sure you can! The memory is in that pea-brain noggin of yours somewhere." Timon pulled Pumbaa's ear up and peeked side, as if expecting to see his brain. "Well, what do we have here...? 'This space for rent.' Ha!"
"Hey!"
Timon released Pumbaa's ear and patted his head. "Just kidding, buddy."
Pumbaa sat up and folded his front legs in front of his chest. "Sorry, Timon, but I'm not going to take that kind of joking lightly today. Now I'm not gonna tell you the story at all."
"Aww, c'mon, Pumbaa--!"
"No."
Timon sat down on Pumbaa's head and folded his arms in front of his chest. "Crud." He drummed his fingers on his arms for a few minutes, thinking. He then sighed. "OK, Pumbaa, I'm sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood. You're going to be a father anytime, and I just wanted you to try to relax before you started wearing a deeper path than I did when my pups were born."
"There are other ways to lighten my mood without the use of poor jokes, Timon," Pumbaa said, looking up at his friend sitting on his head.
"Poor jokes?! That was a classic! I--" Timon looked down at Pumbaa, who did not look amused. He flashed a big nervous smile and chuckled. "Point taken. Uh, what did you have in mind for mood lighteners, my porcine pal?"
"Hearing more stories. Then maybe I'll tell my story."
"I've run just about out of stories," Ma said, rubbing her forehead.
"Then how about a memory day?" Zuri asked.
"Memory day?" Timon and Pumbaa both asked.
"Well, there must be some stories we don't all know. Panya and Uncle Max don't know everything that happened when Timon left the colony. We don't know exactly how Timon and Pumbaa met or what they were thinking about when they met. Not so much as stories, but memories. It'd be a nice change of pace."
"Not a bad idea, Zuri," Ma said.
"Not to mention it'll take my mind off Jina's condition for a while," Pumbaa said, wagging his tail.
Timon slid down Pumbaa's face and landed on the ground. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get to rememorizing!"
"Uh, you mean remembering, don't you, Timon?"
"Huh? Yeah, sure, whatever."
To be continued...
Remember When...?
By Kari Gilmore
Chapter 1:
Timon has been a father for two weeks now, and so far his son and daughter are still alive. So far Timon's confidence has grown, but then again his pups have yet learned how to speak, walk on their back legs, or developed a personality. On this day, the ninth day of spring, Timon and his family plan to spend the day with Timon's best friend Pumbaa to give the warthog some emotional support.
Pumbaa paced in front of the river, shaking his head and mumbling. He let out a few whimpers, sped the pacing, and then slowed back down once in a while. Timon's attention wavered between his friend's pacing and his mate Zuri tending to their pups Kito and Shani. Timon's mother and Uncle Max were standing nearby.
Pumbaa suddenly stopped pacing and sat down with a pant. "How long have I been doing that?" he asked.
"I'd say about an hour," Zuri said as she watched her son Kito try to attack a passing grub, only to miss.
"No wonder... I feel like I've been pacing for an hour." He laid down.
"I'm impressed, Pumbaa. You're handling the situation better than Timon when Kito and Shani were coming," Ma said as she walked over to Pumbaa.
"I wasn't that bad, Ma," Timon said with a furrowed brow.
"He's right, Panya... he was worse," Uncle Max said.
"Hey!"
"I guess I'm more depressed than I am worried," Pumbaa said.
"Depressed?" Timon asked. Pumbaa let out a whimper and looked away from the meerkats, sniffling. Timon's face saddened when Pumbaa's did. "Oh, yeah... I forgot."
"Forgot what?" Ma asked.
Timon drummed his fingertips together as he thought of a way to put his next sentence. "Well, lemme put it this way: Simba and I aren't the only ones who had a tragic event happen in our childhood."
"Oh, dear... what happened?" Ma asked, looking at Pumbaa with a sadden expression.
"Yeah, come to think of it, you've never told me," Timon said, putting his paws on his hips as he turned back to Pumbaa. "I mean, I'm assuming this tragic event happened in your childhood when it could've happened a week before we met. And all I know is you'll all alone in this big empty world."
"Well, it did happen when I was young," Pumbaa said with a sniffle.
"Hey, I was right about something," Timon mused.
"Do you really wanna know?"
"Well, Pumbaa, it'd be a nice change of pace... I mean, we tell you about our lives... we know next to nothing about you, at least before you met Timon," Zuri said.
"Besides, it might take your mind off worrying about Jina for a while," Uncle Max nodded.
"If you want, we can tell you some more stories after you tell us what happened in your childhood," Timon said as pat one of Pumbaa's tusks.
"Well, to be honest, I was young when it happened, so I might not remember it fully," Pumbaa said as he pushed a pebble forward.
"We can't have that." Timon rubbed his chin, and then grinned. He walked over to Pumbaa and held a spider draggling from a thread of web in front of him. "Maybe this'll help?"
"Sorry, Timon, but I'm not that hungry. Besides, I don't think bribing me will help me remember."
Timon then slowly swung the spider in front of Pumbaa's eyes. "Just watch the pretty spider, Pumbaa." Pumbaa did as he was told, watching the spider swing in front of his eyes. "You are getting very sleepy--"
"No, I'm not, Timon."
"I'm telling you you're getting sleepy!"
"OK, if you insist." Pumbaa then said in a hypnotic tone to humor Timon, "I am getting very sleepy..." He mumbled in his normal tone, "Even though I'm really not..."
"Good... you are under my control..."
Pumbaa paused for a moment. "I am?"
"You are! Now shut up until I tell you to talk."
"OK."
"Now, Pumbaa, when I snap my fingers, you will enter a deep trance and fall asleep. Understand?"
"... Can I talk now?"
"Yes, you can talk now," Timon said in a slightly annoyed tone.
"OK. Yes, I understand," Pumbaa nodded in his humoring hypnotic tone.
"Good." Timon snapped his fingers... and then he fell onto his back, snoring.
Pumbaa blinked at Timon falling asleep all of a sudden. "Timon?"
"I think his aim was off," Zuri said with a giggle.
Uncle Max walked over to Timon, sat him up, and waved a paw in front of his eyes. Timon didn't respond. "Klutz. He can't even hypnotize a warthog," he mumbled to himself. He snapped his fingers in front of Timon's eyes, and then Timon snapped awake.
"What's for breakfast?" He shook his head and then turned back to Pumbaa, furrowing his brow. "Why isn't he asleep?"
"Because I'm not really sleepy?" Pumbaa asked timidly.
"What?"
"Well, let's face it, Timon, I can't be told I'm getting sleepy when I'm really not. You're just going to have to face facts that I won't remember every single detail."
Timon walked over to Pumbaa and walked on his face up to the top of his head. "Sure you can! The memory is in that pea-brain noggin of yours somewhere." Timon pulled Pumbaa's ear up and peeked side, as if expecting to see his brain. "Well, what do we have here...? 'This space for rent.' Ha!"
"Hey!"
Timon released Pumbaa's ear and patted his head. "Just kidding, buddy."
Pumbaa sat up and folded his front legs in front of his chest. "Sorry, Timon, but I'm not going to take that kind of joking lightly today. Now I'm not gonna tell you the story at all."
"Aww, c'mon, Pumbaa--!"
"No."
Timon sat down on Pumbaa's head and folded his arms in front of his chest. "Crud." He drummed his fingers on his arms for a few minutes, thinking. He then sighed. "OK, Pumbaa, I'm sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood. You're going to be a father anytime, and I just wanted you to try to relax before you started wearing a deeper path than I did when my pups were born."
"There are other ways to lighten my mood without the use of poor jokes, Timon," Pumbaa said, looking up at his friend sitting on his head.
"Poor jokes?! That was a classic! I--" Timon looked down at Pumbaa, who did not look amused. He flashed a big nervous smile and chuckled. "Point taken. Uh, what did you have in mind for mood lighteners, my porcine pal?"
"Hearing more stories. Then maybe I'll tell my story."
"I've run just about out of stories," Ma said, rubbing her forehead.
"Then how about a memory day?" Zuri asked.
"Memory day?" Timon and Pumbaa both asked.
"Well, there must be some stories we don't all know. Panya and Uncle Max don't know everything that happened when Timon left the colony. We don't know exactly how Timon and Pumbaa met or what they were thinking about when they met. Not so much as stories, but memories. It'd be a nice change of pace."
"Not a bad idea, Zuri," Ma said.
"Not to mention it'll take my mind off Jina's condition for a while," Pumbaa said, wagging his tail.
Timon slid down Pumbaa's face and landed on the ground. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get to rememorizing!"
"Uh, you mean remembering, don't you, Timon?"
"Huh? Yeah, sure, whatever."
To be continued...