(This is a short little thing I did just to brush up on my Dora-fan-fiction writing.)
WARNING: Not for Dora fans young and old, for there is blood and this titanic tome takes the mickey out of Dora. DO NOT SAY THAT I DIDN'T WARN YOU.
DISCLAIMER: If I owned Dora, would I be writing this? No, I wouldn't. Get that inside your head, lawyers.
Dora was on a mission.
Boots was on that same mission.
You want to know what that mission is, don't you?
Well I'm not telling you.
Oh alright, I'll tell you.
Map had been kidnapped. I know, I know, it is terrible news, and I certainly don't blame you for bawling your eyes out. But it was true. Someone had taken him during the night. A shadowy figure (which was Swiper the Fox, but I'm not telling you that until later) just crept in. Don't ask me how. I think he got in through the window, which was the only way anybody could get in, but I could be wrong. Anyway, long story short, Dora wakes up, sets off, asks for directions, purple mountain, Map at the top, blah blah blah. That's not important. Still Dora had to save Map, and so she was on her way to the purple mountain, the top of which Map would be. Boots was there too, gasping for breath and staggering this way and that, crashing into trees, lampposts, your computer screen. But Dora could endure it. She was specially trained to run all the way to Purple Mountain without one stop for breath, a drink, or the toilet. But, however, she didn't bother to run. Boots was carrying her.
"Left!" Dora would shout and Boots would stagger to the left.
"Right!" Dora would shout and Boots would stagger to the right.
"Go faster!" Dora would shout and Boots would stagger faster. And collapse.
It was during one of those 'collapsed' times that Dora saw Purple Mountain. The name of Purple Mountain was decided years and years ago by a group of old blokes that nobody knows of. They decided to use the name 'Purple Mountain' in honor of Purple McFlunderbush, the top old bloke's best friend. Purple Mountain was actually orange. And it wasn't covered in weird orange grass. Oh no.
"Yuck! Jell-O!" Boots shouted as he plunged his foot straight into the floppy orange goop.
"Ooooooo, Jell-O!" shouted Dora excitedly and she grabbed a spoon, stuck it into the Jell-O of Purple Mountain and started to gobble the mountain up.
"Stop, Dora!" shouted Boots, waving his floppy blue monkey arms in the air. "Don't eat it! It is magic Jell-O, from the city of Khwair-Al-Donut! It will make you fall asleep!"
Dora's response was a snore.
"Fine then," sighed Boots, "I always have to do the hard work anyway. NNNNGGGHHH!" He started to drag the sleeping Dora up the side of the Jell-O mountain, with the added difficulty of trying not to get his red monkey boots stuck in the stuff. It took him exactly, exactly, EXACTLY four hours and a bit to climb Purple Mountain. Exactly. I'm not lying.
The top of Purple Mountain was exactly like the rest of it, but completely different from the rest of it. There was a huge castle and a hot dog stand on top of yellow snow.
"Now remember Dora," said Boots when he had finally woken Dora up, "don't eat the yellow snow."
"Ummphkmph," muffled Dora, while chewing some yellow stuff she had just found on the mountain.
"Good. Now where is that castle - Oooo look! A hot dog stand!"
After they had wiped the ketchup stains off themselves, they went into the castle.
It was very dark inside the castle. Boots found a torch inside Dora's underpants and turned it on.
He immediately saw what looked like a giant ice cream cone on wheels, surrouded by dark grey bricks that reeked of darkness and farts.
"What the flim-flam is an ice cream cone doing here?" Boots thought out loud.
Suddenly, as if the ice cream cone had heard him, it rolled onto its side slowly, so that it faced Dora. And promptly exploded.
Dora was killed instantly, falling off the mountain, and rolling onto a heap on the grass. Boots, however, was completely unaffected by the explosion. He turned around, confused.
All that was left of the ice cream cone was a pile of dust, some burning white stuff, and a shadowy figure with a face Boots knew all too well -
"SWIPER!" Boots screamed, picking up an assault rifle from the ground and loading it up with a CLICK-CLICK.
Swiper put his hands up in the air. "I-"
Boots shoved the rifle up Swiper's nose. "Don't give me any of your lip, foxy. Just give me a reason."
Swiper remained silent. He did, however, fart, which distracted Boots for a while. Swiper suddenly plucked the rifle out of his nose, and shot Boots OVER 9000 times in the brain. He was no more than a shell of blue monkey skin when he floated to the ground.
"Heh heh heh," Swiper chuckled as he took out a cigarette, and lit it. He climbed up a ladder to the top of the castle, where he saw the Map hanging from a gallows.
"What? You're not dead?" Swiper shouted, shocked.
"Of course I'm not, you idiot. It'd take more than a noose to kill ME." the Map chuckled.
"Mkay. How bout this?" Swiper said, shoving a bottle of beer in the Map's mouth. The annoying piece of parchment wobbled slightly as the alcohol intoxicated him, and he fell off the gallows, into the castle below. There was a cracking sound.
Then Swiper escaped from Purple Mountain, got married to the Queen, ruled the world and lived happily ever after, ha ha.
(One of my more random stories, eh? XD)