Sir Wrongalot found himself in a land unlike any other. The sun blazed overhead, the air smelled faintly of eucalyptus, and everything seemed determined to either hop, crawl, or outright bite him.
"Welcome to Straya, mate!" a cheerful voice boomed.
Wrongalot turned to see a man wearing khaki shorts, a wide-brimmed hat, and holding a can of something called "VB." He was riding a kangaroo as casually as one might ride a horse.
"Straya?" Wrongalot asked, scratching his helmet.
"Yeah, Australia, mate! Land of the free, home of the… well, slightly tipsy. I'm Bruce. Who might you be?"
"I'm Sir Wrongalot, and I'm here on… uh, knightly business," the knight replied, though even he wasn't entirely sure why he was there.
Bruce squinted at him. "Knight, eh? Bit hot for all that metal, don't ya think? You look like a cooked sausage in a tin can."
Wrongalot puffed out his chest. "A true knight is always prepared, no matter the climate!"
A large bird strutted past, eyeing him with suspicion.
"What's that creature?" Wrongalot asked, pointing.
Bruce chuckled. "That's an emu. Don't mess with 'em. We lost a war to those blokes."
"A war? Against birds?"
"Yep. 1932. They're undefeated."
Before Wrongalot could process the absurdity of this, a loud screech cut through the air. A giant spider the size of a carriage skittered into view, wearing sunglasses and sipping from a bottle labeled "Vegemite Energy."
"Crikey, it's Big Sheila!" Bruce exclaimed, leaping off his kangaroo.
"Big Sheila?" Wrongalot repeated, his voice trembling.
"She's the local boss. Loves a good scrap. You'd better handle this one, mate."
The spider tilted her sunglasses down, revealing eight gleaming eyes. She reared up on her hind legs and roared.
Wrongalot unsheathed his noodle sword. "Fear not! I shall vanquish this beast in the name of chivalry!"
Bruce handed him a can of VB. "You might wanna start with this. It's tradition."
Wrongalot stared at the can. "What am I supposed to do with this? Use it as a weapon?"
"Nah, mate. Drink it. Then you'll be ready to fight."
Reluctantly, Wrongalot removed his helmet and took a swig. His face contorted in horror. "This tastes like a dragon's bathwater!"
Bruce laughed. "You'll get used to it."
Big Sheila seemed unimpressed with the beverage ritual. She lunged forward, her massive legs shaking the ground.
"Alright, Sheila, let's dance!" Wrongalot shouted, swinging his noodle sword.
Unfortunately, the sword flopped uselessly against her hairy leg. The spider hissed, clearly offended.
"Uh, plan B?" Wrongalot called out.
Bruce nodded. "Right! Quick question: can you ride a kangaroo?"
"What kind of question is that?!"
"Doesn't matter! Hop on!"
Bruce whistled, and another kangaroo bounded over. Wrongalot clumsily climbed aboard, clutching the kangaroo's ears like reins.
"Alright, Sheila!" Bruce shouted, cracking open another can of VB. "You're messing with Straya's finest now!"
The kangaroos charged at the spider, bouncing erratically. Wrongalot flailed wildly, his noodle sword swinging in every direction. One particularly lucky swing smacked the sunglasses off Big Sheila's face.
The spider froze. Without her sunglasses, she seemed... shy. She backed away slowly, then turned and scuttled off into the outback, muttering something about needing her "cool factor."
"You did it, mate!" Bruce cheered.
"I… I did?" Wrongalot asked, wobbling as the kangaroo came to a halt.
"Yeah! You've won the respect of Straya! Now, how about a snag?"
"What's a snag?"
Bruce grinned, pulling a sausage out of nowhere and tossing it onto a barbecue that had mysteriously appeared.
"Welcome to Australia, mate. We fight, we drink, and we cook. That's the way of the land."
As Wrongalot took his first bite of a snag, he couldn't help but think: This might just be the strangest place he'd ever been.
To be continued… probably with fewer giant spiders.
PART 2 FOR WORD COUNT
As Sir Wrongalot enjoyed his first snag, the land of Australia seemed to calm around him. The giant spider Sheila was nowhere to be seen, and Bruce was busy seasoning another sausage with what he called "secret Aussie spices," which smelled suspiciously like ground-up Vegemite.
But, of course, peace in Australia couldn't last long.
Just as Wrongalot was about to take another bite, a thunderous roar echoed through the outback. Birds scattered, the kangaroos looked mildly inconvenienced, and Bruce nearly dropped his barbecue tongs.
"Oh no," Bruce muttered, shading his eyes and looking toward the horizon.
"What is it now? Another spider? Perhaps a venomous koala?" Wrongalot asked, clutching his noodle sword.
"Worse," Bruce said grimly. "It's the Great BBQ Debate."
"The what?"
Before Bruce could explain, two rival groups appeared from opposite directions. One group was armed with skewers and tongs, their aprons bearing slogans like "Meat for the Win!" and "Barbecue Without Sauce is Blasphemy." The other group wielded bags of vegetables and tofu patties, their banners declaring "Plants Over Patties!" and "Grill the Earth, Not the Animals!"
The two groups marched toward each other, shouting insults that made absolutely no sense to Wrongalot.
"Your steaks are drier than the Simpson Desert!"
"At least we don't marinate our tofu with shame!"
Bruce sighed. "Every year, mate. Every year."
"What's going on?" Wrongalot asked, thoroughly confused.
"It's the eternal battle between the carnivores and the vegos," Bruce said, shaking his head. "They meet at the sacred barbecue grounds to fight for supremacy. No one ever wins, but they refuse to stop. It's tradition."
"Surely there's a way to bring peace?"
Bruce snorted. "Good luck, mate. I'd rather wrestle Big Sheila."
But Sir Wrongalot was not one to shy away from a challenge. Adjusting his helmet, he stepped forward, raising his noodle sword high. "Friends! Australians! Lovers of questionable cuisine! Hear me!"
The crowd stopped, staring at the clumsy knight in bewilderment.
"I have traveled far and wide," Wrongalot began, trying to sound profound. "And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that food is meant to unite us, not divide us! Surely there is a way to combine your forces and create a barbecue so mighty, even the emus would tremble in its presence!"
The carnivores and vegans exchanged skeptical glances.
"And what would you know about barbecues?" one of the carnivores sneered.
"Yeah, mate," a vegan chimed in. "You're wearing tin pants and holding a pool noodle."
Wrongalot hesitated. "Well, perhaps I'm not an expert in the culinary arts, but I do know teamwork! And I happen to have a plan!"
Bruce whispered from the side, "You've got a plan?"
"Not yet," Wrongalot whispered back. "But give me a moment."
Thinking quickly, Wrongalot grabbed a nearby kangaroo (with its consent, of course) and climbed on. "Behold!" he shouted. "The Kangaroo of Compromise!"
The crowd gasped as the kangaroo hopped to the center of the barbecue grounds, where Wrongalot placed a giant empty platter.
"We shall create the ultimate barbecue feast!" he declared. "Both teams shall contribute their finest dishes, and together we shall craft a meal so legendary, it will end this feud once and for all!"
The crowd murmured. It was an insane idea. But it was also Australia, where insane ideas were practically a national pastime.
"Alright," said one of the carnivores. "We'll bring the sausages."
"And we'll bring the grilled eggplant," a vegan added cautiously.
Soon, both sides began working together, assembling a barbecue feast that grew more impressive by the minute. There were skewers of marinated kangaroo meat (ethically sourced, of course), veggie burgers stacked with avocado, grilled pineapples, and even a few experimental items like Vegemite-infused tofu.
Wrongalot stood proudly at the center, directing traffic and occasionally pretending to know what he was doing.
Bruce, flipping a particularly juicy steak, leaned over and whispered, "You might actually pull this off, mate."
"Of course I will," Wrongalot said confidently. "What could possibly go wrong?"
At that moment, Big Sheila returned, drawn by the smell of the feast. The giant spider loomed over the barbecue grounds, licking her many fangs.
"Oh no," Bruce muttered. "Sheila loves a good barbie."
The crowd panicked as Sheila moved closer, her many legs casting ominous shadows over the food.
But Wrongalot, undeterred, stepped forward. "Fear not! I shall handle this!"
Sheila hissed, clearly unimpressed by his noodle sword.
"Wait," Wrongalot said, raising a hand. "What if I offer you a compromise?"
Sheila tilted her head, intrigued.
"We have created a barbecue so mighty, it would be a shame to waste it on fighting. Join us, great Sheila, and you shall have your fill!"
The spider considered this for a moment, then slowly lowered herself to the ground. Wrongalot handed her a plate, and Bruce hesitantly served her a sausage.
To everyone's surprise, Sheila let out a satisfied purr.
"She likes it!" Bruce exclaimed.
The crowd cheered as Sheila joined the feast, her many legs expertly handling multiple plates at once.
And thus, the Great BBQ Debate ended not with a battle, but with a feast that went down in Australian history.
As the sun set over the outback, Wrongalot leaned back against his kangaroo, a snag in one hand and a Vegemite-infused tofu skewer in the other.
"Another day, another victory," he said with a satisfied sigh.
Bruce laughed. "You're alright, Wrongalot. Maybe even a bit of a legend."
The knight grinned. "Just doing my duty. Now, do you think we can get a few of those emus to help with cleanup?"
To be continued… but probably not with Vegemite tofu.