Joxer was dreaming. He ran after Gabby through a wide, green valley, blanketed in golden flowers. He ran as fast as he could, trying to catch the swift figure before him, but Gabby just laughed in delight and ran faster. Joxer already knew how the dream would end, as it always did. He would catch her at the edge of the valley, and she would reward him with a kiss, and then he would wake up.
Such a lovely ending needed hard work, though, so Joxer pulled on his last reserve of strength and sped up. Then, suddenly, in Joxer's dream world, a loud, growling noise rumbled across the valley, and he stopped in his tracks. That wasn't supposed to happen. He looked up for a storm that might produce such thunder, but not one cloud obscured the perfectly blue sky. He returned his gaze to the valley, and there was Gabrielle, standing silently among the flowers and looking around in confusion.
Then the sound came again, and the ground shook violently, throwing Joxer face first into the grass. He heard Gabby yelp in surprise, and he was back on his feet in a moment, running to her rescue. He reached her just as she had pulled herself back to her feet, supporting herself on her staff, which seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Gabby glared at him accusingly.
"Will you stop that?" she asked.
Joxer was confused. "Stop what?" he asked.
"Go eat something before you get us killed!"
Joxer opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by another grumble, louder than the first two, that rocked the ground like a storm-tossed ship. His first thought was for Gabby's safety, and he reached out to catch her even as he lost his own balance, but she was gone -- vanished from the valley without warning. He yelled in protest as his balance failed him and the ground rapidly rose up to meet his nose.
****
Joxer sat up abruptly and raised his hands to ward off a nasty blow to his nose. When the fall didn't come, he slowly lowered his hands and glanced around his surroundings. The valley had disappeared only to be replaced by a seedy-looking room in a cheap hostel. Joxer let loose a sigh somewhere between diappointment and relief. He was awake.
But what had caused the usually great dream to turn into a nightmare? In response to the silent question, Joxer's stomach growled loudly. Great, he thought sarcastically. Jipped of a kiss by my stomach.
A quick glance out the tiny window of his room confirmed that the sun still had not risen. No food vendors or taverns would open at least until daylight, which meant he'd just have to suffer the empty knot in his stomach for a little longer. In protest, another grumble errupted, this one almost painful.
"All right, already," he said to his tummy. "I'll find some food. Would that make you happy?"
A tiny growl let loose, and Joxer took it as an agreement. Well, the town seemed fairly big. Some vendor had to have opened by now, somewhere. He'd just have to hunt until he found some food. Of course, he'd probably wander aimlessly until daylight, the walking making his hunger more acute. Then again, maybe some exploring would prove a good distraction. Come on, Joxer, it'll be daylight by the time you make up your mind, he thought.
Without allowing himself to further debate the pros and cons of staying in bed, he stood and donned his armor and helmet. As a last touch, he decided to bring his sword -- you never knew who you might meet in a strange city, after all -- and marched out of his room and the hostel and onto the dark, empty street.
"Well, off we go," Joxer said to himself. His stomach rumbled in agreement, and together they set off down the street in search of some breakfast.
The only other people Joxer saw were city guards, who patrolled the streets and glared suspiciously at him. Joxer didn't want any trouble with the local authorities. He thought maybe he might look like less of a menace if he'd left his sword in his room, but he certainly wasn't going back now. So he smiled and nodded at the guards, and they thankfully left him alone.
Thus passed about an hour, with Joxer walking up and down the streets and inevitably going in circles and ending up at the same intersections again and again. He did at one point pass through the main market square, totally devoid of food, and was beginning to wonder if he should admit defeat and go back to the hostel until morning. Then he realized that he didn't know where he was and probably couldn't find his way back to the hostel if his life depended on it.
The hollow feeling in his stomach reached an intolerable level, and it growled in protest, getting Joxer a startled look from a passing guard. He sat down in the middle of the road with a clatter of armor, barely noticing the first hint of light in the eastern sky. No food. No breakfast. No happy dreams of Gabby running through fields of golden flowers. This whole expedition was taking a definite turn for the worse.
Then he heard it: the faint but unmistakable sound of clucking. He looked behind him and was greeted by the sight of a large chicken waddling down the street. To Joxer, no sight could be more welcome. A chicken! Breakfast at last! The imagined taste of juicy meat set his mouth watering and drove all thoughts from his mind except one: Catch the chicken.
Fueled with energy by his new purpose, Joxer raised himself onto all fours and waited for his breakfast to waddle a little closer. He sat perfectly still, and the chicken seemed not to notice the fierce hunter that was about to strike. It came almost within arm's length, and Joxer, impatient and driven by the rumblings of his stomach, reached out to catch his prey.
The chicken ducked out of range and waddled maddly down the street, clucking to wake the dead. In his single-minded state, Joxer didn't even hesitate for a second before jumping to his feet and chasing after it. He caught up and reached down to scoop it into his arms, but the chicken abuptly changed direction and left Joxer with a fist full of feathers. With a rare flash of insight, he realized that chasing the chicken wasn't working. Time to try another plan.
He stopped and leaned over, careful not to move too quick. "Here, chick, chick, chick," he said. "Here, chick, chick, chick."
The chicken stopped its crazed dash and started pecking at the street only a few feet away. Joxer moved slowly toward his breakfast, reached down and licked his lips in anticipation. Victory was within his grasp!
Then, in an act Joxer could only consider betrayal, his stomach growled loudly. The noise startled the chicken out of its false sense of security and it waddled away, leaving Joxer with more feathers between his fingers.
It just wasn't fair! How could one chicken be so hard to catch? The pent-up frustration inside Joxer would hold no longer. He drew his sword and yelled out. "Yeah, run ya dumb animal! You'll never escape Joxer the Mighty!"
But before he could charge the chicken, he was hoisted off the ground by a pair of strong arms from behind. Joxer struggled against his unwanted assailant, but the man was too strong, and Joxer quickly found himself pinned against a wall.
"Hey! Let me go!" he said. The arms suddenly released him, and Joxer crashed to the ground, banging his nose into the wall. Oh, boy, this guy's in trouble now, he thought. No one treats Joxer the Mighty like that. He scrambled to his feet and turned to his opponent, hand reaching for the sword in his scabbard and finding only air.
"Looking for this?"
Joxer looked up at the city guard ... and up, and up. The man was huge -- at least twice as tall as Joxer -- and he was holding Joxer's sword in one gigantic fist. Joxer recovered from his initial shock and narrowed his eyes dangerously. This man had first stopped him from securing his breakfast, and then he had stolen Joxer's sword. Now this guard would pay dearly, for he had challenged the wrong man.
Joxer punched at the guard's stomach and felt like he'd hit a brick wall. "Ow!" he said, nursing his swollen knuckles.
"Why were you chasing that chicken?" the guard asked, not even phased by Joxer's attack.
"What chicken?"
"That chicken," the man said, pointing down the street at Joxer's intended breakfast. "I happen to know the owner of that chicken, and she wouldn't be happy if it ended up in your frying pan."
Joxer tried his hardest to look innocent. "I would never steal a chicken that doesn't belong to me. That's, um, against the law. Besides, I don't own a frying pan."
"Oh, really? Well, you can tell it to the judge." The guard grabbed the front of Joxer's armor with one hand and started dragging him down the street. Joxer tried to resist. He twisted and turned and refused to walk, but he found himself being tugged along the street by an iron fist nevertheless. And the chicken's clucking faded into the distance.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked, refusing to give up the struggle.
"For now, the city jail. We'll figure out what to do with you later."
"Will you at least feed me?"
The guard laughed. "Yeah, we'll feed you -- right to the other criminals we'll feed you. They just love wimpy little guys like you."
"Hey! Who are you calling little?"
And so the chicken clucked its merry way down the street, stopping occasionally to peck at a bug. In the marketplace, vendors opened their taverns and shops with the rising sun; the smell of juicy meats and fruits filled the air.
Not too far from the market, Autolycus, King of Thieves, slipped away from his insane business partner in the dull morning light and decided it might be best to lose himself in the crowd for a while. Xena and Gabrielle rode through the city gates in search of a certain criminal who might be of some use to the Warrior Princess.
And Joxer was hauled off to jail by the iron hand of the law for attempted chicken theft, struggling and protesting the whole way, serenading every passer-by with his theme song. He didn't stop singing even when the guard locked him in the stocks, and his stomach growled in time to the uneven beat.
It was another typical morning for Joxer the Mighty.
The end
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Posted November 12, 1998