Storytelling for Week 1: How Codger Saved the World and Got a New House

There was a crazy hermit who lived in a mine shaft. This Codger—Codger was his name—was a solipsist, and fairly well convinced that, were he to die, the world would surely end. Troll the Ogre, who was on holiday, was not so convinced. One day, he came to the mine shaft to pay Codger a visit.

“Hey, Codger, “ Troll said. ““You say that if you die, the world ends, right?”

“Why, yes,” Codger replied. “Since the world exists only as a projection of my mind, of course it would end if my mind ceased to function as a result of death!”

“I didn’t get everything you just said, but that’s a yes, right?”

“Indeed.”

“Huh?”

“Yes, I meant yes!” Codger said, slightly exasperated.  “Indeed means yes. Understand?”

“Oh, Ok. Well I think you’re wrong,  and I’m gonna prove it!”

“And how might you go about doing that?”

“We’ll play a game,” Troll said, smiling evilly.

“Something tells me I won’t like this game,” Codger said, frowning.

“You go out to the firing range and stand among the targets, and I’m gonna shoot at you. If I hit you and you die and the world doesn’t end, then I win.”

“If I’m following your logic here, then that means if you hit me and you’re wrong, then I die, you die, and the world ends, correct?”

Troll scratched his scaly head with one of his black, gnarled nails. “Hadn’t thought about that.”

“I don’t like the idea of this game one bit,” Codger complained. “How exactly do I win?”

Troll rubbed his chin thoughtfully . “How ‘bout this? I’ll only shoot three times. If you dodge all three times, you win.”

Codger considered the Ogre’s proposition. Troll was not the brightest behemoth in the world—not even in the top ten by Codger’s estimate—but he was a crack shot.   “What do I get if I win? I mean the world’s continued existence rides on this game. My reward for saving the world must be suitably appealing.”

“Hmmm… How about I give you my vacation home if you win?”

Codger’s eyes lit up. Codger’s current home was not particularly to his liking, being that the landlord was a pain and the cost of utilities far too high for a mere mine shaft, but it was the best place he could find. Troll’s vacation home, on the other hand, was the nicest in the land.

“You’d really give it to me?” the hermit asked. “For free?”

Troll shrugged. “Why not. Not like I’ll actually lose the game.”

Not able to pass up the chance to live in luxury, even if it meant putting the world in peril, Codger nodded eagerly. “We have a deal. Shall we begin the game tomorrow at high noon? There’s no better time than then, yes?”

#

That evening, Codger had his weekly game of cards with his best friends Ron, Jack, and Caesar. There he told the trio of the game he was going to play with Troll the next day.

“Doesn’t sound like the odds are in your favor,” Jack the Axeman said.

 “That’s why I need your help,” Codger said.

“Sure, sure,” Ron, a loveable mammal of the ursine persuasion, said. “I can roar really loud and scare him so that he’ll miss.”

“Right,” Jack said.

“Your roar, huh?” Caesar the wicker man said, sounding doubtful.

“You’ve been working on that, right?” Codger asked.

“Sure, sure,” the bear said with a toothy grin that made Codger mildly nervous despite himself. “Wanna hear?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Codger said.

“I can run at him with my axe,” Jack offered.

“Sounds like a good way of getting shot,” Codger said, looking at Caesar. “What about you?”

“Set myself on fire?” Caesar suggested.

“I’ll put you out afterwards,” Jack offered.

Codger shook his head. “That won’t do. Think of something else by tomorrow, okay? I’d hate to have to rely only on Ron’s roar.”

#

Troll sighted down the barrel of his large rifle toward Codger, who stood in the distance amidst the field of paper targets.

“Wonder why he’s not moving,” Troll said. “Oh well.”

The ogre was about to pull the trigger on his rifle when the strangest sound he had ever heard echoed forth. The best way he could think to describe it was a cross between a wolf’s howl and a goat’s bleat. Troll paused as he listened to the strange nose. After a moment, he shrugged and once again focused on his target.

The smell of smoke wafted to Troll’s large and very sensitive nose. Sniffing curiously, the ogre found his head turning to one side. In the distance he could see something burning brightly.

Troll frowned. “Lots of strange things happening today.”

A loud crack sounded from behind, causing Troll to slowly turn around. A tree fell directly toward the ogre, who scrambled to get out of the way, but his big, heavy feet were too slow. The trunk landed directly on top of Troll.

#

“Well, Jack’s good with an axe as usual,” Codger said, looking down at Troll as the ogre sought to lift the trunk from his squished body. Were Troll anything less than an ogre, he would likely be dead. “I don’t suppose this means that I win, does it?”

Troll looked around at Codger, Ron, Jack, and Caesar angrily. “No. You didn’t win! You tricked me!”

“Well I couldn’t exactly just let you shoot me when the world is at stake,” Codger said. “So what do you say you give me the house if we help get that tree off you? You won’t be able to lift it by yourself, and I don’t think anyone else is going to want to help you.”

Troll growled, but accepted the hermit's offer.

Codger smiled. “Another apocalypse averted.”

Authors Note: I based this story on Tom Gauld's Map of the Area Surrounding our Holiday Home. I used some of the map’s “motifs”—the crazy hermit, the mine shaft, the ogre, the wicker man, the bear, the axe man, and the shooting range—and decided to throw in a wacky idea like a solipsistic main character to create a random and weird story. I didn’t really like how I ended it all that much, but I’m still fairly happy with it, considering that flash fiction type writing isn’t something I’m experienced with.
 

(Image information: A burning wicker man from Wikipedia Commons)