Dora The Explorer,
A New Adventure
Original Story: Boots and his Brothers
Fractured Fairytale By: Connor Green
For my Mom,
The woman whose encouraged me to continue creating these stupid stories.
“No Language can express
The power, and beauty, and heroism, and majesty,
Of a Mother’s Love.”
-Edwin Hubbell Chapin
“A Mother loves her children,
Even when they least deserve to be loved.”
“All that I am, and ever hope to be,
I owe to my angel Mother.”
“The heart of a Mother
Is a deep abyss,
at the bottom of which
You will always find forgiveness.”
-Honoré de Balzac
The year before last, the crops of the region grew just… wrong. Corn was entangled and warped as if it were spaghetti (which would not have been brought to Venice from China by Marco Polo until 1284.) The carrots and potatoes were inedible. Some villagers and even advisors to King Iilidan, son of Iilidon, were claimed that it was black magic that killed the once lovely kingdom, and that it had plunged the kingdom of Balgruuf into darkness. This tragedy crashed the local economy, for the kingdom could not really produce enough of anything else to make a profit. The price for one loaf of bread became six gold pieces after being two only a few hours earlier. The King and his government were unable to pay for armor to be made for their soldiers. Only the most courageous, selfless, and renowned men of the army, Knights, would have armor, for they had deserved it. Whilst the whelps deserved only the hide on their backs.
King Illidan, who was thirty-four at the time of this event, who was a tyrant and a horrible monster of a man. He came into power after his father, King Illidon, who was the most loved King in over five-hundred years, had died during battle with the Kingdom of Kent. In the first two years after he was given the title of King, everything was well, perfect even. The Kingdom’s peoples were happy, the war with the Kingdom of Kent was ended with the death of Illidan’s father, and the kingdom’s relationships with other great lands and governments were becoming better and better. But then, the King became crazed with his love for gold and women. Of which he had plenty of. His wife and Queen was not happy with King Illidan’s choice of use of his second addiction, for she was left abandoned, and without love. The three years after that, King Illidan killed his Queen and crowned a new, younger, and prettier version of his old “love”. She now sits beside him on his high throne, watching him laugh at the court jester as the young man in tights does summer-salts, and cartwheels, and juggles.
She turns to look at the Jester, who covers himself in purple and green tights. He does a one more summer-salt, and the new Queen Knoma sighs. She turns back to Iilidan and lays a hand on his right forearm. “My King, I grow tired of these dull halls and rooms. I wish to explore! I wish to explore the vast lengths of Europe’s land with you, Illidan! Please? Please accept my request. This life bores me!” King Illidan stops laughing and looks to his Queen. The large, bearded smile has become a bearded frown.
“I will expand our castle. More servants. I will even order some men to kidnap you if that is the kind of adventure you seek. But you will not be allowed to leave our home, my love. It is the job of my army to explore the far corners of the world.” Illidan denies Knoma’s request, and he turns to his royal advisor to his left and whispers a few words into his ear. The man quickly makes his way away from the King’s side, and off down a hallway to the left of the great throne. The King looks back to the jester, and the laughs begin once more.
“Here ye, here ye!” The royal advisor yells from the center of town, the market district of Balgruuf. Balgruuf is what Illidan’s great grandfather named the town outside his castle after he founded the Kingdom of Dickerson. (He then started naming other towns and cities after his other pets. Krypto, Clifford, Dogmeat, Nyan, Cringer, and Santa’s Little Helper.) “I am here to tell all ye folks of ye olde Balgruuf town that ye have been given a chance at wealth! Your King, Illidan the greater, offers you a chance at half of his wealth, and the kingdom! All you must do is travel to the ruins of the Kentish’s castles, and add to the castle of your ruler! And then, after that, you must find the stuff of legend! The well of immortality! You must mark it on a map, and bring said map back to King Illidan. Only then will you gain your reward!” The many villagers, many starving and dying, look at the men dressed in fine clothing with their eyes wide open. One man grabs onto the advisor’s shoulder, and the finely dressed man place a firm grip on the wrist of the frail villager and breaks his forearm with the velvet covered knee of the nobleman. The red becomes darker, as some blood from the broken arm sprays onto his leg. The Advisor leaves and people watch was his shiny, bald head moves farther and farther away, thinking that they could probably eat off it. Dora the Explorer runs up to the man screaming of his pain.
“Atención médica! Do you need it?” She yells at him, he screams.
“What in God’s name does that mean?!” The man questions.
“Atención médica!! Say it with me now! Ah-ten-see-on meh-dee-kah!! Do you need it?”
“Li’l girl, you’re speaking gibberish!!! I don’t understand a word you said!!” I man pushes past the broken man, and mumbles something rude. A little too rude.
“Maldita sea! First aid, mister!! First aid!” Dora becomes a little annoyed. The little blue monkey on Dora’s back gives a high-pitched squeal. Dora reaches into her pocket and gives him a little Scooby Snack for monkeys.
“Oh, darn it, li’l girl. You coulda just said that! And yes! I need it!” Another young woman with two younger children strolls by, one of the children no older than three or four years old, stops and pets Boots. The small monkey enjoys it while it lasts before the boy is pulled away by his mother.
“Well, okay then.” Dora reaches into her pockets, and grabs a band aid, she slaps it on the man’s broken arm, and it magically heals.
“WITCH!!! WITCH!!! WITCH!!!” The man runs away as fast as possible, he comes back a moment later. “Thank you, li’l witch lady. WITCH!!!” The man starts running once more, still repeating the same word, over and over again. Dora stands and starts to get to work.
“I sure would like to be Queen of half the land.” Boots screeches. Dora starts to walk out of town, towards what used to be the Kingdom of Kent. Just before she enters the vast place outside of the town’s borders, she hears something… a sound. A voice, calling from one of the dark alleys in which she and Boots have just passed by.
“Dora! Dora!” The muffled voice calls. It calls once more. “Dora!” Dora stops walking and turns to the alleyway. At the end, she sees a small light. Boots squeals, and pulls at Dora’s hair, but the dumb girl walks towards the alley anyway, out of curiosity, and wonder. She walks through the alley, which is filled with cobwebs, rats, and garbage. Dora falls, and on her hands and knees, she goes right into a puddle of human urine. Which must have been tossed out of the window a few hours earlier, for this puddle was cold. She recoils in disgust, dusts herself off.
“Ewwwwwww. Bruto! Gross!!” Dora continues down the alley and reaches nearly reaches the end, holding the urine stained shirt as far away from her body as humanly possible.
“Dora! Come! Please!” Dora begins to hurry, and she gets to the end of the alleyway. Sitting at the dead-end wall of the alley is a satchel, whose leather was covered in purple cloth. The satchel has a face, a happy one at that. “Dora! Thank gosh, you came! I’ve been waiting for you! Come on! Take me with you!” The satchel suddenly hops. Without the aid of anything or anyone at all. The satchel lands on it’s face. “Owwwwieee.” The satchel muffles through the cobble of the alleyway. Dora picks up the small bag and place it upon her shoulder. “Thanks.”
“No problema, mochila!” Dora says to the talking purple satchel. Boots begins to run and climb about Dora’s clothing, a purple t-shirt, and some orange shorts. He stops on top of the bag, opens up the lip of the bag, and scurries inside.
“Woah, Amigo! This is too weird! Get out!” The satchel yells at his insides, Boots screeches back. “Stop scratching my insides!!!!” The purple bag screams and Dora reaches into the bag and pulls Boots out of the bag.
“No, Boots! Bad monkey!” Dora gently slaps Boots upon the head. He snarls. Dora looks back at the talking bag. And sticks her hand in, then she goes down to her elbow, then she shoves her whole arm in the purple sack. “There’s no bottom, Backpack!! Why is there no bottom?!”
“I am a magic sack. I will help you build upon the tyrant King’s castle. That is my purpose.” Mochila explains.
“Oh. Well, thanks.” Backpack nods, and Boots one last squeal before hopping off Dora’s shoulder onto the ground of cobble. “We’d better get going! Right Boots?” The small monkey hops once more and begins to walk beside Dora, out of the alleyway, and into the street. They turn towards the ruined castles of the Kingdom of Kent once more and start walking.
After many days of trekking through Europe, Dora, Boots and their new friend Backpack make it to the ruins of the destroyed castle which once housed a great King, his Queen, and all of his servants. There were already about eight or nine men already at the desolate plot. Each man had several bags of linen with him and were rapidly trying to fit stone into each one. “Looks like we got here faster than most others, huh, Boots?” Dora looks to Boots, and the monkey looks back. Dora visualizes him saying, “Yeah, Dora! Sure did! Better get to work!” simply because she wishes that her one and only friend would speak to her, at least once. Boots climbs his way up into Dora’s large head of hair and makes a little bed for himself among it. The sky darkened, and Dora yawned.
“No time to sleep, amigos. We must get to work. Dora, pile the bricks into me. I can hold them all.” Backpack reassures her. “We must get this work done by tomorrow, and then we can make the journey back to build the King his new castle.” Dora nods, and begins to pick up the large, stone bricks and drop them inside Backpack. Boots jumps from Dora’s head and tries to help. He picks up some tiny stones, which do look large with the size of his hands, and puts them in the bag.
By morning, the plot is barren, occupied only by eight adult men, one nine-year-old girl, a monkey, and a talking backpack. Dora sleeps with Boots tightly held in her arms, Backpack sleeps against her spine. The eight men have built a campfire and stools out of the few stones they did manage to pile into their own bags. Backpack burps and Dora wakes. She yawns, and allows Boots to escape from her strangling grasp. The monkey scurries off to play with a butterfly fluttering about the grasslands. Dora stands, rubs the sleep out of her eyes, and picks up the surprisingly not heavy purple sack. “We had better get going Mochila.” She sighs. “Boots!! ¡Ven aca!” The small purple monkey runs back, on all fours.
“Dora, after you went to sleep, I found something in my stomach.” Backpack starts to choke on something, trying to hack it up. Eventually, a wet, soggy, rolled-up piece of parchment paper comes flying out of Backpack’s insides, and onto the ground. Dora picks up the roll of wet paper and spins it in her hands to see the other side. She drops the paper to the ground, and stumbles backward, scared. Dora falls on her rump. A voice comes from the paper, sputtering and spitting.
“WHY IS IT SO WET IN THERE. IT’S AN ENDLESS VOID, NOT A POOL.” The paper yells at Backpack enraged. It turns to Dora. “AND YOU! WHY WOULD YOU DROP M… You’re Dora. I’ve been waiting for you. Backpack was lucky to find me, I doubt you would have.” Map belittles Dora. “Well, I’m the Map! I will be aiding you in your quest to find the ‘magical’ well your mad King desires so.” The map says. Attempting to stand on one of its flat faces. Dora puts Map in a side pocket on Backpack, then pulls the Backpack over her shoulder. Boots runs over to her side, and they start walking back to the castle.
With the Map’s help, the group made their way back to the village of Balgruuf with little to no trouble. There were no detours, no pestering beggars, and no cultists trying to kidnap the four. It hardly took them nine hours of trekking. Other than the many servants and guards of the castle who were all very scarce, the castle was empty. The many other people who had waited until morning the days before to leave for the Kingdom of Kent must have just been getting there about this time. Boots, Backpack, Dora, and the Map began building, with little help from the castle’s own staff. The Map ordered the others on where to put each and every stone. Backpack was what the others used as our modern day trucks, so it would not take hours for Dora and Boots to move hundreds of stone bricks which could weigh upwards of two hundred pounds. Certainly, this feat would be impossible for Dora and Boots if they had not found Backpack. Soon, the building is done, and the four are treated to a grand dinner with the King.
“So! You, four peasants, wish to become royalty! This is certainly the way to do it! You are half way finished. All you need do now is find the mystical well of immortality. It is hidden somewhere in the scary forest down a little southwards. I trust you will find it?” The King says.
“We will your majesty.” Dora agrees.
“Good, because this is what will happen if you don’t.” The King stands from his seat and walks to Backpack’s seat at the large table. He picks up the purple sack and Backpack screams.
“HEY! PUT ME DOWN!” Backpack yells as he’s taken away from the table, and thrown into the fireplace ten feet away from the King’s own chair. His screams are terrifying and horrible. Shrieks filled with pain and fear and sadness fill the air in the huge dining hall. Smoke flows out from the fireplace and Backpack becomes a pile of ash and red-hot embers. Dora stands, jaw-dropped, petrified, and unable to scream. Map does the deed for her. King Illidan makes his way back to his seat. He sits down and gorges himself on his half eaten steak. Dora sits back down and blankly stares at Backpack’s plate of uneaten food. For the next hour, the King makes small talk and Dora stares.
“So, do you understand what will happen to you if you attempt and fail to find my well? I’ve already put all of the dirty degenerates that tried to build me a new castle and failed to death.” The King threatens.
“Yes, your majesty.” Dora’s eyes filled with tears which overflow onto her cheeks. She stands abruptly and leaves the room. Boots grabs the piece of parchment paper called Map and follows after the traumatized Dora.
“Where are we going, Dora?” Map inquires. “Ouch!” He yells as Boots’ paw crushes him into the ground while walking. Boots takes notice of the paper’s pain and sets Map up on the monkey’s back. “Thank you, sir Boots.”
“We’re going to find that damned well. Because I’m not letting that happen to anybody else.” Dora says, nothing but anger in her voice. She walks with a stomp, shaking the ground beneath her. Whereas the only noise that Boots makes are nearly inaudible scratches that come from his tiny claws tearing little bits out of the dirt.
“Dora? Why do you speak no Spanish?”
“Because it’s time to drop the bull, and get serious. We need to find that well and receive the King’s resources and land. With that, we will gain an army which will be able to bring Iilidan’s Kingdom to its knees. Then, we will cut off its head.”
“You mean… kill the King? Ruler of thousands?” Map becomes a little skeptical of the goal Dora has set herself upon. “How do you expect this to work?”
“I know that it will. If we are to liberate this poor land from its tyrant leader, it must work. Iilidan must fall. We will raze his empire. Now. No more talking. Unless you would like to give us directions to the well. Then, and only then, you may speak.” Dora orders, all childishness and playfulness that once inhabited her heart. All that exists now is hatred for the King, and the need to save her friends, family, and all other people who live among each other in this horrible land.
Map’s eyes go blank, and he speaks. “In forty-five kilometers, turn left.” Map’s voice is toneless, no emotion contaminates it. His eyes’ color return to them, and the group, one member smaller, continues on.
“There’s the scary forest, Dora. I hope you have fun in there. Bon voyage” Map turns, giving Boots a paper cut on his spine. The monkey makes a high pitched squeal sound and stands, pushing Map off his back. The roll of parchment paper falls to the dirt, and can’t move. Dora picks him up and looks into the paper’s eyes.
“You’re going with me. Without you, I’m gonna get lost. So, you’re along for the ride, chum. Let’s go.” Dora walks into the forest. Nothing but weird, deformed trees and diseased critters from now on. Boots thinks in his tiny monkey brain. But then he sees a bug and snatches it up. He plops it into his gullet and swallows the thing whole. Good bugs here. Is all that occupies his mind now, as he continues to follow Dora, and snatch up more of the bugs.
The group walks throughout the dense forest of large oak trees, spying small creatures scurrying through the branches of the many trees. “Boots, stay with me. Don’t stray from the group.” The monkey gets in close to Dora, trotting wearily through the woodland.
“Aah!” Dora topples over, and lands face first into the dirt, and many sticks, and few rocks that wait for her on the ground. She screams, and begins to cry. The crying continues for a moment before she sends her hands to her face, and wipes the tears away. Dora sits up and stands.
“What happened, Dora?” Map asks the girl suffering from some fatal scratches on her left cheek, the one she scraped the ground with.
“I tripped over that thing-a-magig.” She points at the root of a tree, coming out of the ground in an arch. She wipes more tears from her eyes.
“Oh, well. You should be fine. But we must find the well. We must. Let’s go.” Map reassures her. Dora picks up the talking paper, and Boots jumps onto Dora as she begins to walk. He makes a little perch atop her head, where he may sleep. Dora and Map continue their journey through the forest.
Soon after, Dora begins to see things. A great black shadow lurking through the trees. Swiftly, it seems to jump from branch to branch. Dora reminds herself to always be on her toes, and she keeps her eyes on where the shadow seems to be.
“Hey, what’s that?” Dora asks, pointing straight ahead.
“What?” Map squints his paper eyes and sees something. “Oh, that’s our destination, Dora! That’s the well.” Dora is overcome with excitement. She begins running at full speed, towards the well. Within a minute or two of running, Dora gets about fifteen meters from the magical well, and the creature that once was hidden in the trees, jumps down from them, and lands in front of Dora. The girl screams at the sight of the monster. The thing is tall, taller than Dora is, and very slim. It’s covered in orange fur, except for its paws, and its frontal and parietal bones, which are Zaffre Blue. Its long, narrow muzzle parted in half by a mouth filled with sharp, knife-like teeth. The monster smiles, and stands on its two hind legs, showing off its chest. Dora is frozen in fear, and she prays to the lord above that this damned creature does not eat her all up. “Dora,” Map whispers, just loud enough to hear. “That’s Swiper, the forest creature. Say these three words with me. Loud and clear. But not yet. ‘Swiper No Swiping’. Try it. But quietly.”
“Swiper no Swiping,” Dora repeats quietly.
“Good! Now louder, with me.” Map takes a deep breath and begins to yell the three words with Dora. “Swiper No-” The chant is cut short as Swiper has already made his first strike. He’s slashed his claws at Map, shredding him into four pieces. Dora drops her friend to the ground, and Boots jumps down from Dora’s head to help out. The girl’s eyes stay open and wide. Watching as the orange-furred creature’s right claw tears her friend into slices. It retreats back into its former position and goes in for another attack. The creature rushes towards Dora for another swipe, but it misses her flesh by only an inch, tearing away a strip of her t-shirt at the sleeve. Boots runs, on all fours, at the monster’s left calf, and jumps at it. He’s quickly pushed away by the backside of the creature called Swiper’s gigantic blue paw. Boots is knocked to the dirt. He quickly gets up, and cowers behind the fallen branch of a dead tree, it doesn’t hide him from the deathly gaze of the Swiper. Dora runs at the beast and pulls its arm away from the poor animal. The Swiper’s strength overpowers Dora’s little spaghetti arms, and it drives it’s long claws into the dirt surrounding Boots. He screeches and tries to escape his cage of talons. The monkey pushes a tiny hand in between the gap between two of the claws. The beast closes his claws.
“No!” Dora goes under the Swiper’s arm, and towards its hand. She kneels beside the clenched hand. The orange beast lifts its hand up and turns it over. The Swiper looms over Dora, able to kill her within a second, but, decides to show her what has become of her pet. And what will become of her. It opens up the fist, showing off the bloodied corpse of Boots. She stares at it, eyes widened. Her pupils dilate, seeing the broken limbs, organs splattered around the creatures palm. The monster called Swiper raises the other paw of talons, going in for the kill. Its wicked grin grows ear-to-ear, and it begins to salivate. “Why did you do this?” Dora turns back to the great creature, and screams, “Why would you do such a horrible thing?!” Tears fall from each tear duct, streaming down her cheeks like a river would flow downhill. Dora’s converted all sadness and grief into pure rage. She sees all in red. Dora continues the screaming, and anger, and eventually, the claw comes crashing down. It doesn’t slice her into strips like it did to Map or turn her into a bloody pulp like it did to Boots. It knocked her back. She landed on her rump. But Dora realizes that this was not on purpose, because what she sees next is something she didn’t ever expect to see. Through her red, and now fading vision, the poor girl sees a man-sized bull. A blue bull, pushing the Swiper into a nearby tree and driving its two large horns into the beast’s ribcage. Dora watches as the bull pulls his now red horns out from the dead Swiper. And it begins to walk over to Dora, on his two hind legs. It kneels beside her.
“Hey, I’m Benny. I think you need out of this dang forest.” Benny the Bull picks up Dora’s near-unconscious body, and she points at the well.
“I… I need… I need to… map.” Dora looks back at the well, getting farther and farther away from her as Benny walks her out of the forest.
“Don’t worry. I know where it is. And don’t worry. Your darned King isn’t getting a single drop of my well’s mystical waters. Though you will get your kingdom, miss…?”
“Dora. Dora the explorer.”
“Hm, nice. I like it.” As does Dora.
“You rest, Miss Dora. I’ll escort you back to King Iilidan’s castle. You’ll be there in no time.” Dora tries to find a reason not to sleep, but in her mind, she has no reasons not to. So, she gets comfortable amongst the blue fur of the huge bull, and Dora falls deeply into unconsciousness.
“Hey, Dora. We’re here.” Benny says, poking Dora’s shoulder as he approaches the front gate to the castle. Many villagers gather round Benny, admiring his fur, his largeness, and maybe even thinking about roasting him over a fire in this famine. Even the guards to the castle look uneasy, fearing that this ‘creature’ may not be as docile as it seems.
“Where again?” Dora asks.
“The castle of King Iilidan, Miss.” Benny reminds Dora. “It’s time for your coronation as Queen to a new, and hopefully improved, land.” The gates open, and the guards let the two enter. Benny begins to set Dora down, letting her sleepy legs walk some. They enter the two wooden front doors to the throne room.
“Hail, Lady Dora! I wish to send men to the well as soon as possible. Please hand me my map, and your rewards will be given momentarily.” The King assumes. And you know what they say about when you assume. ‘You make an ASS out of YOU and ME.’ Dora looks up at him, sitting on his high throne, looking down upon the world with a stare that could kill cattle. Dora sees the King’s wife, bored and sad, sitting beside her husband. The Queen looks back at Dora, and she flips her off, discreetly of course. It would be unladylike to use any kind of obscenity in any kind of way. Though, it doesn’t really matter if the husband doesn’t give her any opportunities to be ladylike.
“Um, no King Iilidan. You may not have your map. It’s in Benny’s brain. And you can’t have it.”
“You dare to oppose your King? This is insubordination! I refuse to have a peasant treat me like I do not deserve such a luxury as the map to the mystical well of immortality! Give me it now! Or you will face the consequences!” Iilidan is infuriated, and amazed at how someone as lowly as a serf can defy her King. He draws his sword and yells. “Give me it now! Or die! Guards!” Several armored men come running into the throneroom, and the Queen quickly decides to leave. She scurries off into the Master bedroom, where she and her husband made their single child, Drizzt. “One last warning. Give me the DAMNED MAP, or die.” Dora and Benny stand their ground, but Dora reaches up and takes hold of Benny’s hand.
“We’ll take our chances, sir,” Benny says, knowing what’s going to happen.
“Good. I’ll find that well myself.” He runs at the two, and swings his sword at them, but the guards do not follow after their King, fearing the big blue bull. Benny extends his fist fast and smashes King Iilidan in the nose, which broke it and all other bones of the skull. One piece of the Parietal bone on the left side of the King’s head breaks from the rest and punctures the Parietal lobe of the brain. Thus taking out the King’s ability to see and feel anything. Benny legs go of Dora’s small hand and picks up the former King. “What’s happening?! I can’t see! I can’t feel my arms! My legs! What the hell did you do to me?!” Benny stays quiet and opens the front door to the throne room.
“Goodbye, Iilidan.” Benny throws Iilidan out of the castle and returns to Dora. All the guards have begun to return to their posts. Benny points up at the throne. “That’s yours now.” He points to the Queen’s throne. “And that? That one’s mine. I’m your new royal consultant. Go take a seat, have another nap. That must have been tiring, watching all that blood today.”
Dora nods, and climbs up onto the throne, and she begins her duties as queen, with a nap. Benny plops down into the small seat beside Dora. The former Queen enters back into the room, and Benny gives her a ‘shoo’ gesture. She goes away. And from that point onwards, the kingdom had never had a better leader and a better time learning Spanish from the common gibberish.