Crunch

                                               Can't We Just Be Friends

                                                   by Derick Walburger

       Crunch Bones was an ogre, but he was what other ogres would have called weird (if they could have understood such a complex word). An awful thing had happened to Crunch when he was young. He had strayed too close to a love spring as a child and had fallen in. Ogres only have one real fear, and that is that they may one day care about something. The poisonous love spring had changed Crunch's life forever. It did not make him fall in love with the first person he saw, which of course would be ridiculous for an ogre; they are just too mean for that. Instead, it changed his wretched, ogreish nature. Where once he had been ready to smash to a bloody pulp anything that moved, he now had an empty feeling deep down in his ugly guts. Crunch craved friendship. He felt lonely. Disaster was sure to follow.
       Crunch lived in a cave in the middle of an ancient forest. He kept his dwelling neat in the event a stray visitor happened by. He had separate piles for the un-crunched bones and the partially crunched bones, and the floor was well tramped. In Crunch's twisted mind, neatness might attract friends the way sugar attracts flies.
       Crunch resembled your average ogre: seventeen feet in height, as wide as he was tall, muscles of solid rock and a brain of the same consistency. However, he differed from all other brutes of his species in two ways. First, due to the haunting love spring incident, Crunch cared. He wanted others (this meant anyone or anything) to like him. He had been in the disastrous search of a friend for the last fifteen years with only smashed bodies and broken castles to show for it. Many people fear dragons, and witches can turn you into a newt, but truly, there is nothing more dangerous than an ogre's friendship. The second thing that made him different was that he was frighteningly clumsy. While some ogres may be clumsy, their awkwardness should not even be measured on the same scale as poor Crunch. This dangerous condition was not in itself inexcusable, but combined with the first abnormality meant disaster.
       The last morning of his loneliness did not start out the same as most others. Crunch did not wake up as eager as he had done in the past, ready to face a new day of friend finding. Fifteen years of loneliness had finally begun to sink in. Maybe he would never find a buddy or companion to fill the emptiness of his soul. The huge ogre's pitifully small brain had not organized this thought as neatly as other ideas, but he was starting to get the general gist. It seemed that every would be friend either ran away or died horrifically--usually Crunch's fault.
       Crunch reluctantly left his cave that morning. He would try one last time to find someone who could like him for who he was. It was a bright morning, full of promise for a would-be friend, but Crunch hardly noticed. Depression was another emotion that an ogre had never experienced until now, but, for some reason, Crunch didn't feel honored at his achievement.
Birds chirped in the tops of the trees, but the downhearted brute paid them little heed. He had already tried to make friends with the delicate, winged creatures. Most birds flew too high or for him to catch, or ended up as sticky goo between his fingertips. He stomped along with his head hung low, despairing of ever finding someone to love.
       Reaching a rocky stream, Crunch leapt to the far side with a thundering thump. He didn't stop to watch the fish swimming lazily in the clear water. He already knew that fish did not make good friends. They never seemed to live long despite his greatest efforts to make them comfortable on his nice dirt floor.
       Crunch walked for some time before he happened upon his first victim that day. Bears in general were smart enough to stay away from ogres. Crunch had seen them from afar often enough, but the speedy bears had always managed to elude him. Unfortunately, this bear was a little too tough for its own good. The ten-foot grizzly was used to getting its own way. It had never backed down from a challenge, and had never lost a fight, meaning it had never run into an ogre before.
       The huge bear let out a terrifying roar that shook the ground. Crunch smiled. The lonely ogre stumbled towards the mighty bear in uncontrolled glee. Matching his newfound friend's enthusiasm, Crunch sounded his own powerful cry, his rancid breath withering a nearby tree. The bear stood its ground, but a glimmer of doubt clouded its bloodshot eyes.
       The old grizzly met the attack head on. Glistening claws whistled towards Crunch faster than the eye could follow, but confusion replaced confidence as paws that could move boulders bounced harmlessly off the ogre's tough hide. For the first time in its life, fear seized the mighty beast. Crunch smashed the bear into an inescapable bear hug. It was too late for the bear to run; it had just been befriended.
       Content with his prize, Crunch Bones hurried for home. Stuffing the grizzly under one arm, he stumped back through the forest. His future suddenly seemed much brighter. The bear swung like a rag doll in the arms of a loving child. It was still fighting to regain its breath. Finally, Crunch had found something that could stand up to the torture of being the friend of an ogre.
       Everything might have gone well for Crunch had he actually made it back to his cave, but clumsiness saved the bear from a terrible fate. In his eagerness to get his prize home, Crunch forgot to watch where he was going. A rotting log that had once towered above the forest tripped the gleeful brute. Crunch went sprawling, head over heels, and lost his hold on his treasure. The bear went sailing end over end through the air, crashing through dry branches, until finally it hit a trunk solid enough to stop its ungraceful flight. Crunch had just enough time to lift his wart plastered face from the muddy ground to see the grizzly escaping at full speed through the trees. The ogre lurched after his friend, but was too late to stop his ill-fated comrade from ducking into its nearby cave.
       Feeling stupid, Crunch stumbled over and stuffed his knotted arm into the cave to retrieve his friend and be on his way. He felt around, biting his tongue in concentration. Moments later, yelping more in surprise than pain, the ogre wrenched his hand from the hole. His pinky finger was bleeding slightly from where the frightened bear had bit it. Why would his friend bite him, he wondered? That didn't sound like something a friend would do.
       The despondent brute waited for some time for the bear to emerge before he realized that the cute, furry animal was not going to come out. He stuck his hand in the hole in one last vain
effort, having forgotten what happened the last time; the old bear reminded him with a vicious snap. Crunch reluctantly walked away from his first attempt that day with a broken heart and a throbbing finger.
       Crunch wandered farther in his search that day than he had ever done before. His experience with the bear left a painful mark on his pride, but at the same time gave him hope. He had gotten so close to finding his perfect friend. There must be other playmates out there that would be better suited to his specific needs.
       It was not long before Crunch found what he was looking for. A group of humans was gathered in the midst of a beautiful grove of fir trees. How they did not hear the clumsy behemoth crashing through the forest will forever remain a mystery. Crunch was about as stealthy as an earthquake. The only important thing is that the gathered humans remained dangerously unaware of Crunch's approach.
       The ogre spotted the humans and quickly ducked out of sight behind a thick hedge that surrounded the periphery of the human's camp. He congratulated himself on his good luck. All of his previous attempts to fraternize with humans had ended in dismal failure. Instead of bowling forward as he usually did, causing the flighty creatures to bolt or squishing them in his enthusiasm, Crunch decided to think before he acted--an astonishing feat for an ogre if he actually pulled it off. He thought until his head threatened to burst, which amounted to about three seconds. Fortunately, in that brief time he managed to grab the hind leg of an idea, which with a significant effort, he successfully wrestled to the ground. He faintly remembered hearing somewhere that friends love surprises. Unfortunately, this sole idea had little merit given the situation, but Crunch decided to try anyway--anything to avoid thinking again. He couldn't wait to see the expressions on the humans' skinny faces.
       Gathering himself, the ogre sprang over the hedge screaming at the top of his lungs. Never having learned the expression, look before you leap, Crunch could hardly be held responsible for the deaths of the two guards standing behind the bushy barrier. Two would be friends were crushed to a bloody pulp under the massive, callused feet of Crunch. He regretted his folly, but the sheer number of humans in the clearing lightened his sorrow. All he needed was one of them, after all. Squishing a few was probably inevitable.
       The majority of the humans fled in panic from the bellowing behemoth. In an attempt to stop the mad scramble, the ogre yelled his name out in a friendly gesture.
       "Me Crunch Bones," the ogre proclaimed brightly. For some reason that the intelligence deficient behemoth did not understand, this declaration only sent the humans into a wilder panic.
Crunch began to scurry awkwardly after the fleeing humans before they all got away. The overenthusiastic ogre was a whirlwind of destruction. He stepped on a few more of the terror-stricken humans, squished others in his excited hands, shattered carriages, accidentally ate a horse, and in general destroyed human ogre relations for centuries to come.
       Crunch halted suddenly as a voice lifted above the screams of the panicked and dying. "You there. Stand fast and fight." Crunch missed most of what was said. Humans had high, whiney voices and talked too fast for him to catch more than the odd one-syllable word. He thought that he recognized a declaration of friendship in the shouting though.
       The lumbering giant turned to see a shiny, metal human standing behind him. The figure pulled a glittering sword from his back and stood firm. Crunch had never seen a human made of steel before--all bright and sparkly and extremely sturdy looking. What unbelievable luck. There stood a human that an ogre could love. Crunch hurried over to meet what must be his true friend.        In his eagerness, he stumbled over his own feet and crashed to the earth. Quickly picking himself up, Crunch hoped that his clumsiness had not made a bad impression on his new friend. It had. The ogre looked around, but couldn't see the human anywhere. Finally, when he lifted his swollen feet, he saw the bright indentation of the once stoic figure in the hard ground, flat as a pancake. Crunch almost started to cry.
       A quick glance around confirmed his worst fears. All the other humans had fled. He was alone again. Crunch cursed his clumsiness and his caring heart. Why couldn't he be like the other ogres his parents had told him of before they abandoned him? Crunch starred silently at the imprint of his squished friend in the dirt.
       A sharp cry broke the lonely silence. Crunch froze then turned slowly around, hoping not to scare whatever had made the noise. A lone figure cringed atop a short, wooden tower at the center of the clearing, just about at ogre eye-level. Crunch wouldn't have noticed him if he hadn't cried out, a horrible mistake. The hulking ogre stalked quietly over to examine what he finally hoped was his new friend.
       The figure trembled, but he had nowhere to go. He was too fat to jump from his precarious perch. As humans went, Crunch thought, this was a pretty one. He wore a bright red skin about his plump body and a sparkling hat adorned his head. Crunch poked a finger at the quivering human to see if he was all right.
       "I will give you anything you want," the king shouted in a terror-stricken voice. "Just leave me alone." Crunch could not understand his gibberish, but the human looked excited about something.
       In one last effort at friendship, Crunch tried something radical. He had heard somewhere, although he could not remember the source, that friends are supposed to share. Crunch patted himself in confusion. He could not think of anything that he had that the human would like. Not really a problem, his new friend would have to share with him is all. Crunch liked the sparkling hat, so he reached for it.
        "Pretty," the ogre exclaimed, causing the human to scream in terror.
With a plop, the crown came off. Unfortunately, so did the human's round head.
       Maybe he was just not meant to be friends with humans. The brute surveyed the carnage and only got more depressed-and oddly hungry.

       Dejected, Crunch walked until sunset. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't care. The whole experience with the humans had left a bad taste in his mouth. Crunch was ready to give up his search and learn to live with the loneliness. He lumbered along, caught up in self-pity, until he finally reached the ocean. Not able to go any further-- Crunch had a tremendous fear of water ever since he fell in the love spring--he slumped to the ground. Wallowing in loneliness, he watched the waves crash against the shore.
       Picking a giant, lichen-covered rock from the turf, Crunch hurled it into the sea, or at least he tried to. His aim was so terrible he probably couldn't have hit the ocean if he were standing in the middle of it. The enormous boulder sailed into the forest, crashing through the trees, breaking limbs, and finally smacking something hard. The roar of pain that accompanied the thud sent shivers down Crunch's crooked spine. I've done it again, Crunch moaned. There goes another one.
       Out of sheer, morbid curiosity, the ogre went to see what he had killed this time. The sight that greeted him as he plunged into the brush nearly fried his feeble brain. A female ogre sat scowling, rubbing the bump on her head. Crunch knew it was a girl ogre because of her beauty. She had a deeply pitted face and a snout that would make a pig proud. Coarse black hair covered her arms and chin, more than making up for the baldness of her head. Corded muscle bulged everywhere. She was stunning. Crunch stared, awestruck.
       The other ogre seemed none too happy to see Crunch come smashing through the trees. A bump about the size of the boulder he had hurled was growing from her head. Crunch thought the scowl that creased her mug only made her more beautiful. He smiled, exposing all three of his blackened teeth. He forgot all his past failures. At last, he had found the friend he had always been searching for.
       A growl escaped the new ogre's chapped lips as she stumbled awkwardly to her feet.   She walked towards Crunch, serious conviction glistening in her yellow eyes. This was the first time that one of Crunch's friends had approached him. Crunch awaited the initial exchange of friendship with uncontainable anticipation.
       Smack! Crunch rocked back on his heels when the first punch slammed into his face. Thunk! A vicious uppercut sent him reeling into a tree; both Crunch and the spruce crashed to the ground.
       Crunch lay there stunned. His nose was bleeding, and stars obscured his vision. The ogre watched as his new friend stomped off through the forest, kicking over trees and swearing obscenely.
       Crunch would have let her go, but she made the mistake of looking back.

                                                              -The End-