Post by Kempff on Aug 6, 2010 12:07:04 GMT -5
It was high noon, a sandstorm was brewing in the distance, and the "Singing fruit thief of Agrabah" was positioned to take on his latest heist. He stood in the third story of an empty home, recently vacated due to the entire family within being accused of stealing from the Sultan's personal trade caravan. Not that the singing fruit thief was the only one responsible for what happened to the family, he merely made the most out of his efforts.
This thief, Sheikh, he was controversially named (true Sheikh's were most certainly not lifelong thieves or pronounced the title "chic"), was watching a trio of merchants ardently refuse to put up shop. They were stridently bellowing up and down the street, to little avail as there were very few people out, hoping to sell what remained of their product. The harsh grinding sounds wounded Sheikh's delicate ears, causing him to feel extra motivated to save the public from the cacophonous tyrants below. Even if it meant blaming/conning one of them for his deed.
Sheikh eyed fruit, cloth, silk, meat, and the very rare jug of fresh water, the item of his desire. One rarely ran across such a jug being sold on the normal street vendor level, which meant this vendor was very desperate, or testing out the water with a price on it. And Sheikh always needed water for his beloved singing voice.
"Ahem...," Sheikh cleared his throat and began his pre-heist warm-ups. "Doooooo.....Reeeee....Miiiiiiii....," Feeling quite good so far, Sheikh increased his intensity. "FAAAAAAAA......SOOOOO......LAAAAAA....TIIIIIII, "As he neared the end, Sheikh knew to be careful. It wasn't that he could sing "Do" but he had a problem ending on "Do" with a strong tone and pitch. And one might wonder why he always did the same warm-ups. "......DaaaaaaaAUGH, oww...!" Promptly Sheikh began coughing in a wheezing fit.
"Right then," Sheikh muttered, wiping spit from the side of his mouth. "It's time to serenade these men with the wrath of a Genie! They have no idea what raindrops can do!" And neither did Sheikh.
Being on a desert world, he had literally no idea what rain was, or how it dropped from the sky. Songs from far out in the world told of how water, called rain, did in fact fall onto the occasional oasis (though no one alive could confirm this). Songs from very unusual, very oddball groups of desert dwellers, who Sheikh had long ago in a blue moon met and would just happily never see or hear from again.
With a glance to sky outer limits of Agrabah, Sheikh saw that his timing with the Sandstorm was going to be perfect. The vendors had been unsuccessful in their efforts, and Sheikh moved closer to the window to strike. It was at that moment Sheikh noticed the very poorly placed treasure chest that apparently belonged to one of the scrambling fellows down below. What? Whatever could a small-time vendor have in that? Sheikh pondered to himself, but quickly decided that he would answer his curiosity in the process or face missing his chance.
"Raindrops keep fallin' on my head," Sheikh immediately threw his voice, taking advantage of the echo created by the structure of the homes in Agrabah. This trick only worked when a street or alley had buildings of the same height lined up together, making it an ideal tunnel for sound. "And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed, Nothin' seems to fit, Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'."
Almost instantly, the three vendor's shouts stopped. The men looked about confusingly, one grasping his turban and scratching his ear, as if that would make the unseen song explained. "Raindrops? What? Ayman, Hadi are you hearing this?"
One of the other vendor's nodded. "This is singing, do you suppose it's the singing thief, Ali?" Apparently the name of third vendor.
The three vendors looked at one another and then nodded in agreement. "No, his singing is supposed to be terrible, this is quite good."
Fortunately for their sake and Sheikh's self-esteem, he could not hear them from his height. "So I just did me some talkin' to the sun, And I said I didn't like the way he got things done, Sleepin' on the job, Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'." These words startled the vendors, though the added effect of a near sandstorm may have had a greater role in their reaction. What was unmistakeably a giant wall of moving sand and wind was fast moving towards the far city gate. Anyone who had lived in Agrabah long enough knew that no building would be untouched by such a storm. Though, the people of Agrabah were not quite sure why sandstorms happened, leaving someone like Sheikh with an opportunity.
"What is this, a sandstorm? Aye, you fools, this is why you do not sell at high noon!" A vendor cried out, quickly running to his stand to pack up his goods. The other two were dumbfounded by the song and the sandstorm approaching. Suddenly one of them twitched, his entire body practically convulsing. He began to yell uncontrollably. "It is the Genie's curse! We have angered a Genie and summoned a sandstorm! A lifetime of bad luck to us all!"
Sheikh ended his singing as the storm drew nearer, drowning out his voice, and his efforts apparently seeming to pay off. The thief smiled, stood up from the window's opening, put a piece of cloth around a hanging wire and slid down a story below across the street onto a rooftop. From here he was directly above the treasure chest in question, the fresh water still a goal. It donned on Sheikh then, how ever was he going to move the chest by himself?
This thief, Sheikh, he was controversially named (true Sheikh's were most certainly not lifelong thieves or pronounced the title "chic"), was watching a trio of merchants ardently refuse to put up shop. They were stridently bellowing up and down the street, to little avail as there were very few people out, hoping to sell what remained of their product. The harsh grinding sounds wounded Sheikh's delicate ears, causing him to feel extra motivated to save the public from the cacophonous tyrants below. Even if it meant blaming/conning one of them for his deed.
Sheikh eyed fruit, cloth, silk, meat, and the very rare jug of fresh water, the item of his desire. One rarely ran across such a jug being sold on the normal street vendor level, which meant this vendor was very desperate, or testing out the water with a price on it. And Sheikh always needed water for his beloved singing voice.
"Ahem...," Sheikh cleared his throat and began his pre-heist warm-ups. "Doooooo.....Reeeee....Miiiiiiii....," Feeling quite good so far, Sheikh increased his intensity. "FAAAAAAAA......SOOOOO......LAAAAAA....TIIIIIII, "As he neared the end, Sheikh knew to be careful. It wasn't that he could sing "Do" but he had a problem ending on "Do" with a strong tone and pitch. And one might wonder why he always did the same warm-ups. "......DaaaaaaaAUGH, oww...!" Promptly Sheikh began coughing in a wheezing fit.
"Right then," Sheikh muttered, wiping spit from the side of his mouth. "It's time to serenade these men with the wrath of a Genie! They have no idea what raindrops can do!" And neither did Sheikh.
Being on a desert world, he had literally no idea what rain was, or how it dropped from the sky. Songs from far out in the world told of how water, called rain, did in fact fall onto the occasional oasis (though no one alive could confirm this). Songs from very unusual, very oddball groups of desert dwellers, who Sheikh had long ago in a blue moon met and would just happily never see or hear from again.
With a glance to sky outer limits of Agrabah, Sheikh saw that his timing with the Sandstorm was going to be perfect. The vendors had been unsuccessful in their efforts, and Sheikh moved closer to the window to strike. It was at that moment Sheikh noticed the very poorly placed treasure chest that apparently belonged to one of the scrambling fellows down below. What? Whatever could a small-time vendor have in that? Sheikh pondered to himself, but quickly decided that he would answer his curiosity in the process or face missing his chance.
"Raindrops keep fallin' on my head," Sheikh immediately threw his voice, taking advantage of the echo created by the structure of the homes in Agrabah. This trick only worked when a street or alley had buildings of the same height lined up together, making it an ideal tunnel for sound. "And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed, Nothin' seems to fit, Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'."
Almost instantly, the three vendor's shouts stopped. The men looked about confusingly, one grasping his turban and scratching his ear, as if that would make the unseen song explained. "Raindrops? What? Ayman, Hadi are you hearing this?"
One of the other vendor's nodded. "This is singing, do you suppose it's the singing thief, Ali?" Apparently the name of third vendor.
The three vendors looked at one another and then nodded in agreement. "No, his singing is supposed to be terrible, this is quite good."
Fortunately for their sake and Sheikh's self-esteem, he could not hear them from his height. "So I just did me some talkin' to the sun, And I said I didn't like the way he got things done, Sleepin' on the job, Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'." These words startled the vendors, though the added effect of a near sandstorm may have had a greater role in their reaction. What was unmistakeably a giant wall of moving sand and wind was fast moving towards the far city gate. Anyone who had lived in Agrabah long enough knew that no building would be untouched by such a storm. Though, the people of Agrabah were not quite sure why sandstorms happened, leaving someone like Sheikh with an opportunity.
"What is this, a sandstorm? Aye, you fools, this is why you do not sell at high noon!" A vendor cried out, quickly running to his stand to pack up his goods. The other two were dumbfounded by the song and the sandstorm approaching. Suddenly one of them twitched, his entire body practically convulsing. He began to yell uncontrollably. "It is the Genie's curse! We have angered a Genie and summoned a sandstorm! A lifetime of bad luck to us all!"
Sheikh ended his singing as the storm drew nearer, drowning out his voice, and his efforts apparently seeming to pay off. The thief smiled, stood up from the window's opening, put a piece of cloth around a hanging wire and slid down a story below across the street onto a rooftop. From here he was directly above the treasure chest in question, the fresh water still a goal. It donned on Sheikh then, how ever was he going to move the chest by himself?
