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Underwear Boy vs. The Witch

 

 

 

UNDERWEAR BOY vs. THE WITCH

 

 

 

a Native American children’s story

by

 

That Native Thomas

published by

Hosstyle Publishing

Proverbs 13:6

 

distributed by Shakespir

 

This ebook is copyrighted material

and must not be copied, reproduced,

transferred, distributed, leased,

licensed or publicly performed

or used in any way except as

specifically permitted in

writing by the author, as

allowed under the terms and

conditions under which it was

purchased or as strictly permitted

by applicable copyright law. Any

unauthorized distribution or use of

this text may be a direct infringement

of the author’s rights and those

responsible may be liable in law

accordingly.

 

This is a work of fiction and any

resemblance between the characters

and persons living or dead is purely

coincidental.

 

 

Cover by: Butch Yeahpau

 

Copyright 2015 Hosstyle Publishing

 

www.hosstylepublishing.com

Note from the author

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

In the tradition of Native American storytelling, I have added sound effects, which are given in , to enhance the story and they should be used while reading the story to children and other audiences. Native Americans are great story tellers and have a very unique way of telling stories, using sound effects as much as possible and using as much arm, hand, and body movement to accompany the story as well. I wrote this story specifically to be read by a parent to their child/children. And I hope Natives and Non-Natives will enjoy Underwear Boy, a Native American super-hero needed by his people

 

 

 

Ah-ho (thank you)

Jerome Jumps-To-Clouds was a ten-year-old boy from the Apache tribe, raised in Indian City by his mother and his grandparents, since his father’s animal spirit must have been a ghost, because he vanished from their lives just like a ghost (whoosh) a little after Jerome was born. His grandpa was a direct descendant of Geronimo and shared many stories of Geronimo’s bravery against his enemies. Those stories stuck in Jerome’s mind, even after his grandpa died when he was just seven-years-old. For the next three years of his life, Jerome found stories of other great men from comic books he read and cartoons he watched. It was how (dun-dun-dah!) “Underwear Boy” came to be. He did not come up with his name though, it was a few Kiowa Indians that saw him one night in his outfit and called him “Kodayez Tahlee,” which in Kiowa meant, (dun-dun-dah!) “Underwear Boy.” Jerome had strong medicine in him and he wanted to use it to get rid of all the villains of Indian City, so he decided to become a super-hero, like Geronimo, like Batman, and like Optimus Prime. So one day, he went to Wal-Mart to buy a loin cloth, which Indians in the old days use to wear as shorts, but Wal-Mart didn’t sell them. Instead, he found a warbonnet, which was a feathery headdress Indian chiefs in the old days use to wear, from a Halloween costume and some face paint that he could use for war paint. He went home that day and became (dun-dun-dah!) “Underwear Boy!” A super-hero, who wore nothing but white underwear, since he couldn’t find a loin cloth, a pair of tennis shoes, along with a fake warbonnet over his long braided hair, and war paint on his face that consisted of a thick red stripe over his eyes from ear to ear with two small black stripes bordering the top and bottom of the red stripe. Every night after that day, from the top of Indian City’s highest building, which was only three stories tall, (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy would watch over his people, awaiting their next villain.

 

One November night, only one night after Halloween, Underwear Boy was sitting in his watch tower, picking Tootsie Rolls and Laffy Taffy candy from his teeth, when he heard something very unusual . He looked in the direction the noise was coming from and saw a moving truck driving into Indian City. Underwear Boy left his watch tower and followed the moving truck to the driveway of a house that had been empty for a long time. Once the moving truck parked, the driver’s side door opened. Underwear Boy watched from behind a tree across the street. A black cat (meow) emerged from the moving truck first, then a white woman, with long, black hair and a real warbonnet on, got out next. It confused Underwear Boy because he knew warbonnets were meant to be worn only by chiefs, not by women and definitely not by a white woman, so how she got her fancy warbonnet and why she was wearing it, he didn’t know, but the sight of it made him jealous. It was way better than his fake Wal-Mart warbonnet. It also confused him that the woman was white because there were no white people in Indian City, only Native people from different tribes. Once she was out of the moving truck, she picked up the black cat, which turned its head toward Underwear Boy and hissed (hisssss!). Underwear Boy quickly took full cover behind the tree, but as he did, he pooted really loud (BLLLERRR!). Tootsie Rolls gave him gas, so it was no surprise to him, but it was a surprise to the warbonnet-wearing white woman.

 

“Who goes there?” the warbonnet-wearing white woman asked out loud. Instead of answering, Underwear Boy took off running, pooting the whole way (blllerrr! blllerrr! blllerrr!). Tootsie Rolls gave him gas bad. It was dark, so the warbonnet-wearing white woman only saw a pair of white, pooting underwear run away from a tree across the road. It was not the warcry Underwear Boy always wanted to give his first villain, but it was a warcry and a warcry from the buns was the worst kind of warcry a Native could give his enemy .

 

The next day, some Native men saw the warbonnet-wearing white woman’s moving truck in front of the house that had been empty for so long and they all stopped to help her move into the empty house, singing tribal songs to her as they did (hay-yaw, hay-yaw-hey). Underwear Boy watched from across the street again, but not as Underwear Boy, instead as Jerome Jumps-To-Clouds, lawnmower boy, who cut grass not with a lawnmower, which he was too poor to afford, but with a pair of scissors (snip, snip, snip). He watched the Native men carry her furniture inside her new home, along with all of her Native paintings, and they even helped her hang all of her dreamcatchers around her porch. Then, Jerome watched the warbonnet-wearing white woman, who was adorned with turquoise jewelry, light up a sage bundle and use an eagle feather fan to blow smoke (ppphhh, ppphhh) at the Native men there in a traditional smudging ceremony, while she prayed in a language Jerome knew wasn’t a tribal language, but pig Latin instead.

 

“Ank-thay ou-yay, eat-gray irit-spay!” she prayed in pig Latin and all of the Native men took her serious, agreeing with her in their language. Jerome’s mouth dropped wide open (bawloomp). He could not believe what he was seeing, the warbonnet-wearing white woman was pretending to be Native and the Native men there were okay with it. Something was not right.

 

For the next few weeks, Jerome kept an eye on her, during the daytime as himself, since mowing a lawn with a pair of scissors took a long time, and during the night time he returned as (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy. During those few weeks, the Native men of Indian City began to act weird. Jerome watched them all show up to the warbonnet-wearing white woman’s home, all dressed like traditional Natives from the old days; wearing warbonnets, war paint, loin cloths, and some even giving out their warcries as they arrived (wee-cha!). They offered her traditional Native American gifts, such as beautiful tribal dresses, beaded jewelry, more sage bundles, and even more dreamcatchers. Her home had so many dreamcatchers that it became a place impossible for a dream to be dreamt without it being caught in one of her dreamcatchers. Most days, she sat on her porch, with her warbonnet on and even war paint on her face sometimes, as Native men lined up to visit her, some even bringing traditional drums with them to sing traditional Native American drum songs to her (boom-boom-boom-boom-BOOM!).

 

“Hey-yah, hey-yah, hey-yah, hey-yah, HAW!” could be heard coming from her porch like a pow-wow that never ended. And the warcries never stopped either .

 

It didn’t make sense to Jerome or his alter-ego, (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy, how the warbonnet-wearing white woman, who was clearly disrespecting their culture, was effecting Indian City’s Native men like she was doing. They were all acting like she was a real Native woman and they were all trying way too hard to impress her. All of the long-haired Native men started braiding their hair in two braids, Indian-style, and all of the short-haired Native men started to cut their hair into Mohawks (bzzz). They all wore choker necklaces and turquoise jewelry for her too. It started to get out of hand when Johnny Cans, Indian City’s toughest Native man, came riding up to her home on a horse one day, which would not have been a big deal, but it was the first time he had ever ridden a horse! The horse bucked him off right in front of her and he fell hard to the ground (boom!) right on his buns. But he played it off by making a joke of it, telling her his buns already had a crack between them. Then, Jerome’s uncle, Uncle Kool-Aid, who got his name from how round he was, joined a gym and claimed to her that he was a vegan, since she was a vegan (now a “vegan” is someone who doesn’t eat meat and Uncle Kool-Aid was known for always telling the joke that a “vegan” was just a term given to Natives that couldn’t hunt), so that was really weird of his uncle. Police Officer Pee-You, who got his name because he stunk really badly all of the time , he even showed up, but he was clean and fresh out of the shower for once, and was even wearing cologne! Cologne! It was like the Native men of Indian City were losing their minds over the warbonnet-wearing white woman, who was clearly disrespecting their Native culture and not to mention, she was pretending to be Native. And another thing, she never wore shoes or moccasins, so her feet were hard and crusty. She could always be heard walking around (crunch, crunch, crunch).

 

Then, Native men started to go missing around Indian City, one by one (shhhoop, shhhoop, shhhoop). This worried Underwear Boy and the families of the missing men. Something definitely was not right, so Underwear Boy decided to investigate. He knew the warbonnet-wearing white woman’s schedule from watching her and knew that she went grocery shopping somewhere outside of Indian City on Sunday nights because there were no organic grocery stores in Indian City and she only ate organic food, which means “healthy food.” So that next Sunday night, (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy decided to break into her house, which was not hard because he knew she kept a spare door key in her mailbox. Once inside her house, he was distracted by all of her Native furniture, Native paintings, Native pottery, Native knick-knacks, even a Native grandfather clock that beat a drum, instead of a bell, seven times (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, BOOM!) because it was seven o’clock. Her home was like a Native American museum. Underwear Boy looked and looked around, but found nothing out of the ordinary, until he was about to leave and (thump!) he bumped into her coffee table, where a magazine on the coffee table caught his eye. He picked up the magazine and read its title out loud, “Wiccan Women.” It made no sense to him, he didn’t know what “Wiccan” meant.

 

After (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy left the warbonnet-wearing white woman’s house, he went home early, so that he could talk to his grandma and mother. He changed out of his outfit and interrupted them as they watched their favorite tv show, The Simpsons (doh!). He asked his grandma what a “Wiccan” was first, but she didn’t know. Then, he asked his mother, who told him that it was just another way of saying, “witch.” That’s when it all started to make sense to Jerome, the warbonnet-wearing white woman was a (hee-hee-hee, I’m going to put a spell on you!) witch, she had to be because she had put a spell on all of the Native men in Indian City. When his mother asked him why he wanted to know what it meant, he told her about the warbonnet-wearing white woman, but his mother just laughed (hahahaha) and explained to him that she was no witch, just a dumb, disrespectful white woman with no culture, so she stole from other cultures. Jerome’s grandma also started to laugh (hahahaha, ugh, cough, cough!), but despite their laughter, Jerome knew what he was against now, a real life witch!

 

Jerome continued to watch the warbonnet-wearing witch’s house during the daytime and as (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy during the night. There was a lot of talk about a big Thanksgiving feast she was going to cook for a dozen (twelve) of her favorite Native men. After the dozen Native men were chosen, they showed up to build a large table for their upcoming Thanksgiving feast (bzzz, bzzz, bang, bang) and they placed the table under a tree in her backyard. The Thanksgiving feast was going to be a good opportunity for Underwear Boy to show them what she really was, a (hee-hee-hee, I’m going to put a spell on you!) warbonnet-wearing witch! So, he started making his plans, since Thanksgiving Day was only a few days away.

 

First on (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy’s to-do list, was to go to his lab and find the perfect weapons to defeat the warbonnet-wearing witch with. So, the next morning, he begged his grandma (please, please, pretty pleeaassee!) to take him to his lab, which was also called Wal-Mart. She took him there, but Underwear Boy was so excited that he forgot to change out of his Underwear Boy outfit. He went into Wal-Mart as (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy, only realizing it when his grandma and him were asked to leave by a Wal-Mart warrior in blue because he could not allow a lil’ Native boy to walk around the store in his underwear, not to mention his face was painted red and black, and he had his fake warbonnet on. So they left back to their home (zoooom!) and returned just as fast (zoooom!), the speed of super-heroes. Then, they continued their weapon search. It was like a vision quest for Jerome, he wasn’t sure what he was there to get, but he knew it would jump out at him when he passed it. So they walked down every aisle, as his grandma filled her cart with old lady things, like nose-hair/ear-hair trimmers (bzzz), cough drops (cough noise), and fancy underwear (ewww), since she was a single woman now. It wasn’t until they were in the home remodeling section that something finally jumped out at Jerome, he stopped in front of a bucket of red paint. He gave his grandma a look and she gave him a look back telling him to get it, so he put the bucket of red paint into her cart (bang!). A few aisles later, Jerome found more powerful medicine in the form of two cans of red spray paint. He put them into her cart as well (bang, bang!), then they made their way to one of the long check-out lines, as one of their cart’s wheels made a noise the whole way (klang-klang-klang… klang!).

 

A few days later, it was finally Thanksgiving Day! Unknown to anyone, the night before, (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy hid in the tree above the large table built for the warbonnet-wearing witch’s Thanksgiving feast because he had a surprise for her. Around noon, the dozen Native men invited to the Thanksgiving feast started to show up, all dressed in their best Native outfits, warbonnets, war paint, loin cloths, and all, some giving out their warcries as they arrived (wee-cha!). William White-Buffalo, Indian City’s medicine man, was one of the invited. He showed up, hoping his medicine would make the warbonnet-wearing witch forget about the other Native men there and pick him to be with. He even tried to outdo their warcries when he showed up, with an ancient warcry, only heard in old Western movies (yi-yi-yi-yi-yee!). Once all of the food was laid out on the table and everyone was seated, the warbonnet-wearing witch asked William to bless the food. He stood up, lit a sage bundle, and blew the smoke at everyone seated at the table (phhheeehhh!). Then, he started his blessing.

 

(dun-dun-dah) Underwear Boy was normally respectful during a blessing, but he had a mission to accomplish, to expose the (hee-hee-hee, I’m going to put a spell on you) warbonnet-wearing witch for what she was. All dozen of the Native men and the warbonnet-wearing witch stood for William White-Buffalo’s blessing. It was then that Underwear Boy decided to act. He placed himself in the tree, right above her, and started phase one of his plan. At the end of the blessing, once “Amen” was said, Underwear Boy poured the bucket of red paint down unto the warbonnet-wearing witch (splattt!). The Native men had already sat down and started eating, as she screamed (AAAHHH!!! WHAT A WORLD! WHAT A WORLD!).

 

As the warbonnet-wearing witch screamed, (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy jumped down from the tree and landed on the ground (bumph!) right in front of the red-paint covered warbonnet-wearing witch. Before anyone could do anything, he started to spray her with the two cans of red spray paint (ssshhh! ssshhh!), painting her red where the bucket of red paint missed, to make sure she was painted entirely red.

 

“Hey! What, umm, (crunch!) are you doing, Jerome?” asked Bennie Buffalo-Hide, Indian City’s champion fancy dancer, as he took a bite of a turkey leg and then, another bite (crunch!).

 

“Painting her red, since she wants to look Native so bad,” Underwear Boy answered, as he emptied the two cans of red spray paint on her (pppsssttt!) (pppsssttt!). By the time he was done, she was painted completely red.

 

“Jerome! (crunch!) Stop this at once!” yelled William White-Buffalo, as he bit into a turkey leg.

 

“But she is a witch and she’s disrespecting our culture!” Underwear Boy explained.

 

“Witch? She is no witch,” defended William White-Buffalo, as he took another bite of his turkey leg (crunch!). Natives didn’t stop eating once they started.

 

“Witch! How dare you, little boy!” yelled the red-painted warbonnet-wearing witch. “Are you all just going to sit there and eat? Spank him or something! Teach him a lesson or I will!”

 

All dozen of the Native men turned and looked at each other, not knowing what to do, so they continued to eat (crunch! crunch! crunch!), until William White-Buffalo finally said something, but only because his turkey leg was gone.

 

“It doesn’t work that way (smack, smack), it is his family’s duty to discipline him, not ours,” explained William White-Buffalo, as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

 

“I guess it’s going to take a pilgrim to do an Indian’s job!” the warbonnet-wearing witch yelled at them all.

 

“Hey!” they all yelled back, wiping their mouths as they did so (smack, smack).

 

“If you all won’t do anything, I will teach him a lesson,” answered the warbonnet-wearing witch. Covered in red paint, she stretched her arms out and began to chant, “One lives, one dies, one fails, one tries, and with all my might, I might…”

 

Glowing balls of purple light began to form at the warbonnet-wearing witch’s hands and a weird noise was heard (phhhrrrooommm!). But before she could throw the glowing balls of purple light at (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy, William White-Buffalo pulled off his medicine pouch necklace from his neck to throw at the warbonnet-wearing witch, but he threw his turkey leg bone at her instead. (boomck!) A turkey leg bone hit the warbonnet-wearing witch’s head, but didn’t stop the glowing balls of purple light from forming, so William corrected his mistake by throwing his medicine pouch at her with his other hand. It hit her in the head too (boomck!), and it hurt her bad, so bad, that her glowing balls of purple light disappeared and then, she flew away into the sky above them, screaming in pain the whole way , never to be seen again.

 

Once the warbonnet-wearing witch was gone, all dozen of the Native men thanked (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy on a job well done. William White-Buffalo even gave him his spare medicine pouch necklace, which became his new super-hero power. He liked the new respect he was getting, but first things first for a super-hero, he had to rescue the missing Native men. With Underwear Boy in the lead, they all entered the warbonnet-wearing witch’s home, finding nothing at first, until they heard distance voices yelling from the basement below them (Help! Help! Somebody please help us!). They all made their way to the basement to find every Native man that had disappeared chained up in her basement.

 

Once they freed everyone from the warbonnet-wearing witch’s basement, (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy and the dozen Native men with him, found out the truth about her. First and foremost, she was a real (hee-hee-hee, I’m going to put a spell on you!) witch, one with a (I vant to dwink your blood) vampire for a boyfriend. And her vampire boyfriend’s blood of choice was Native American blood, so all of her prisoners were going to be a gift to him, until (dun-dun-dah!) Underwear Boy showed up. After Underwear Boy defeated his first villain and freed her prisoners, he left to his watch tower. And on the top of Indian City’s tallest building, which was only three stories tall, he gave out his victory warcry , awaitng Indian City’s next villain, armed with a powerful medicine pouch now.

 

 

 

THE END


Underwear Boy vs. The Witch

Jerome Jumps-To-Clouds, a 10-year-old Native American boy, has seen enough of the evil that plagues his hometown. Wearing only his underwear, with war-paint on his face, and a fake war-bonnet on his head, he transforms himself into Indian City’s new super-hero, Underwear Boy. And the first villain on his list to defeat, a witch, who has put a spell on all of the Native men in Indian City.

  • Author: ThatNativeThomas
  • Published: 2015-10-05 11:05:06
  • Words: 3709
Underwear Boy vs. The Witch Underwear Boy vs. The Witch