The Desert

Thanks to my one review, I have decided to continue this story. It is about a scenario where Fone Bone stays in The Valley. It is about Phoney, Smiley, Bartleby, and their return to Boneville.

Note: I am changing the rating now that it's going to be longer, so I have freedom for just mild language, possible character death (though I hope not) and anything else.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bone or any of it's characters.

Special thanks: Amazon Book Preview for Gulliver's Travels.

Phoney looked at the red sky. They had been traveling for two days so far, and their provisions were holding. Smiley had been silent the whole trip, and that was just fine with Phoney. Bartleby barely moved except for food and water. Sometimes he crawled next to Phoney and they would talk for a bit about Boneville. Phoney was beginning to like the young rat creature, who was a useful object to talk about schemes to. Bartleby responded little and with short comments. Every two hours he would try to talk to Smiley, but the bone never answered. After these attempts, he would trudge over to his spot of hay, and stare in the direction of The Valley, twirling a stick he had dug out from the pile.

Phoney took a swig of water, which would be all to last him the rest of the day while he slept. It wasn't the trip he worried about. There was a surplus of supplies: two water barrels, and all those bread thingies. Phoney grimaced at the thought. Their first trip had taken two weeks time. However, that would be cut down immensely. Before they had traveled on foot, in irregular patterns, and spent most of the time under rocks. In a straight trip with no angry mob, it should only take a few more days. Plus barrels of water as opposed to a few canteens, enough food to choke both of the cows, and an umbrella to top it off, traveling would be a luxury. No, it wasn't the trip Phoney was worried about.

It was the arrival.


Phoney darted under a table as the first screams pierced the air. He peered out through the mass of scrambling feet to see his campaign balloon approaching ominously. Somehow, it was so packed with helium to have completely lifted Big Johnson Bone's statue a good foot off the ground, it's base forgotten. Phoney peered through the crowd for his cousins. A second later he saw them rushing together towards the balloon. He jumped out from under the table and through the last stragglers. As he ran, a passing foot from a mad bone connected with his shoulder, and Phoney was sent sprawling into a chair. His head hit the chair's leg, and his vision was sent into stars. After a moment, he got up with a groan, rubbing the forming bump. Through tunneled vision, he looked up and saw Piecemaker only a few yards away from his nose. Phoney rolled to the side as the chair was crushed to splinters. Suddenly, his feet were whipped out from under him and he sailed through the air. Phoney's legs had been snagged by the banner that he had earlier ordered to be attached. to his balloon. He flew around the statue and the banner caought against the stone knife, and 'r vote!' was severed-

Phoney shook the vision from his head and stretched his arms. The heat was starting to get to him.

"Hey, Smiley!" he called. "You gonna lay around all day? The cows need water!"

Witha goofy salute and a 'yessir!' the once again perky Smiley Bone leapt down from the hay stack and stopped before Phoney, next to the nearly empty water barrel. "What's the situation, captain?"

Phoney ignored the question and pointed at the barrel. "Open it will ya? You know I'm too short for it."

Smiley did so. "But Phoney," he protested. "This is the last of our water."

"I know that. We won't need water for the next hour, the cows will. Then we will be upon the Rolling Bone River."

Smiley squinted into the distance. "How can you tell, cuz?"

"Because of that," Phoney said, indicating a hole in the ground a little bit off.

Smiley gasped.


Smiley could hear the pounding of feet; the roars of anger and fury. Awkwardly, he stuck his head through the small opening out of the cramped hole he and Phoney were crouched in. As he looked around, the mob cries filled his head. Then Fone Bone tripped on a rockand sprawled in front of Smiley's head. The tallest cousin grabbed Fone and pulled him through as he ducked into the den. Fone coughed as the stomps thundered from above. All three could hear the hate-filled chants for Phoney's head. Phoney Shuddered. "Thanks Smiley," Fone gasped to Smiley's goofy grin. He then took out his second favorite book, Gulliver's Travels. "We might as well get comfortable." He cleared is throat and began: "My father had a small estate in Nottinghamshire..."


Smiley bent down to the hole in reached inside. His hand emerged momentarily holding a very dirty and worn book. It had been well preserved in the desert environment, and the red letters 'Gulliver's Travels' was evident on the cover still. Smiley blew it off and attempted to wipe a year worth of grime off. Suddenly he clutched the book close and a single tear rolled down his long nose.

From on top of the diminishing hay stack, Bartleby watched glumly. The stick in his hand snapped sharply.


Tell me what you think. Questions, comments, concerns, etc... all appreciated. Don't forget to write lots of Bone fanfics too :) the page is already growing fast! Also, join my Bone community, and get stories out for that. Review, favorite and share this story pleasseee