Sir Butteryslip and the Cursed Peel

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    clumsknights

  • Schema namestoryextends
  • Template ID903959
  • Is burnable
  • Is transferable
  • Issued1
  • Max. supply25,000
  • Burned0
  • Circulating supply1
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  • name Sir Butteryslip and the Cursed Peel
  • img Qmcf3axFKdEwp5WLfsdF5FZrB7CxBWez6e1sHwfuGHusXV
  • rarity Epic - Story Mode
  • order NA
  • kingdom A Far Away Land
  • story Sir Butteryslip from the Kingdom of Perfectia, and a member of the Perfechian Guard of Shearmelstrom, was not always a Perfectian knight. Before joining the order, he ventured on his own, helping the needy and the poor. One day, in a faraway land, Sir Butteryslip was summoned by villagers tormented by a witch—guilty of continuous and relentless mischief. Sir Butteryslip heard the call and galloped as fast as he could on his trusted horse. Upon arrival, he quickly began questioning the villagers to aid his investigation into locating the witch. No one knew where she lived, so Sir Butteryslip decided to stay as long as necessary until the witch revealed herself. He settled in quite comfortably. A week passed, but no witch appeared. Then, one night, she emerged just outside the villagers’ courtyard—where they usually set up tables with food and drinks during the day. Sir Butteryslip, napping at the time, heard a ruckus in the courtyard. He quickly donned his armour and went to investigate the chaos. And there she was: tall, dark, and somewhat seductive, with a knowing smile, causing mischief by playing with the villagers and scaring them until fear shone in their eyes. Sir Butteryslip swiftly drew his sword and called out, “You are surrounded, wench! Surrender or face my blade!” The witch immediately ceased her antics and looked at him with confused yet seductive eyes. “Well, how do you do, sir?” she said in a soft, sultry tone. Sir Butteryslip met her gaze and fought back unnatural desires. He took a deep breath. “Hey, witch—your seductive tricks don’t work on me. Stop wasting my time. Leave these villagers and never return.” The witch looked at him and said, “Call me Enchantress, because that is what I am.” She continued in a soft, sarcastic tone: “I was just playing with the villagers. They love it when I come here—especially the men. Don’t you, dears?” Sir Butteryslip had had enough of her mind games. He slowly advanced, sword in one hand and wits in the other. He swung his blade—not to harm, but to scare her into retreating. Yet she didn’t flinch, and his legendary serpentine sword, known to ignite with blue flame when near danger, remained dark. He paused. She’s no threat, he thought. Had she been, my sword would have flared. He tried a diplomatic approach. “Enchantress,” he said, “this was your final warning. I have you surrounded, my sword drawn. Surrender, and I will escort you home—on the condition you never harass these villagers again. Or face imprisonment for your crimes. Which will it be?” The witch smiled. “You called me Enchantress… why, thank you, kind sir. I surrender—and I would love an escort back to my home by such a brave knight.” Sir Butteryslip looked surprised. This is too easy, he thought. With sword still drawn, he escorted the witch to her home—an hour-and-a-half journey. Along the way, she was polite, and Sir Butteryslip showed her kindness, though he remained sceptical of her intentions. At her doorstep, the witch invited him inside, but he politely declined. She smiled. “Well, at least let me fix you some food for your journey back. You’ve been so kind—I’d love to return the favor, sir,” she said. Sir Butteryslip considered it and accepted. “Yes, please. That would be greatly appreciated. Thank you, Enchantress.” Fifteen minutes later, she emerged with a fruit platter—filled with a variety of fruits, predominantly bananas. She smiled. “Do you like bananas?” “Yes, I love them. Thank you,” he replied, accepting the gift. Sir Butteryslip said to himself, I'm going to have a couple of bananas before I start my journey, while licking his lips at the sight of them. The witch, watching him eat the bananas, had a mischievous look on her face. He bid her farewell, reminded her to cause no more mischief, and began his trek back to the village. During his journey, he felt slightly unwell—something off in his stomach. It’s nothing, he told himself, and pressed on. Upon reaching the village, just outside the courtyard, he suddenly slipped—landing flat on his back and sliding across the ground until a stack of hay broke his fall. Confused, he muttered aloud, “This has never happened before. The ground was dry and clear.” A child started to speak, but a parent quickly covered the child’s mouth, shaking their head in silent warning. Sir Butteryslip noticed nothing amiss. He stood, dusted himself off, glanced around for anything slippery, found nothing, and delivered the good news to the villagers. He then returned to his room, packed his provisions, and left—ready for new adventures. Those new adventures eventually led him to the Kingdom of Clumsalon, where—despite being quite clumsy—the Order of the Backwards Plume still denied him and told him to try the Kingdom of Perfectia, as they were looking for flawless (and not-so-flawless) knights. He followed Clumsalon's directions and eventually made it to the Kingdom of Perfectia, where he was accepted as Sir Butteryslip "the Interesting" because those buttered banana peels only appear under his armored boots when he's in danger or when he's about to face a foe. Now we know why the Order of the Backwards Plume denied his application to join: his clumsiness is unnatural and fraught with witchery. And why the Perfechian Guard of Shearmelstrom bestowed upon him the title "the Interesting"—for in a kingdom of flawless knights, nothing is quite so captivating as one who falls spectacularly... and rises anyway.
  • chapter NA
  • series Short Stories of the Clumsy Knights and Friends
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