Plodding through the quarries was a large, orange-ish Grarrl, in his hands an uprooted palm sapling. He'd been planning this day for weeks, and his goal was in sight; over the horizon was the Tyrannian Construction Company, where there would be countless colourful bricks for him to smash to bits. He enjoyed smashing things; it was a rather exhilarating, and reminded him of more perilous times.

However, for some reason, something was up. As he drew nearer the colourful quarry, he saw that there were already other Neopians there. And by the looks of them, they were mostly tourists, with their Slushies and Team Tyrannia memorabilia at the ready. No matter, he thought. I'll get to let off some steam eventually.

As the line shrunk and the lead engineer let people through to the colourful bricks, he noticed something in the sky, coming towards him. It was Feemix, the Korbat Scout.

"Good morning, Grarrg!" the flying rodent said in his native Tyrannian. "I was told I'd find you here!"

Grarrg gave a sarcastic grin. "What does annoying little creature want?"

The annoying little creature just chuckled. "Didn't ya hear? Well, you're needed for our festivities today, big guy."

Immediately the large reptile's face dropped. Tyrannian Victory Day was today?

***

Eventually, Grarrg sat among his fellow Tyrannian Elders and Altador Cup celebrities. A few foreigners were within the council tent, doubtlessly to discuss the technologies behind the big parade for Tyrammet Village. His eyes would dart from left to right, and he hoped he'd be addressed, but Kyruggi, his superior, was too busy instructing her countless other comrades.

"...So for our pyrotechnics, we will need, perhaps, Bottled Scorchio Breath and Fire Jugs for the giant volcano prop," Kyruggi addressed some of her crew in universal Neopian. "And, for the blocks..."

"Grarrg smashes them?!" The orange beast's face perked up.

"No, actually." The old Kyrii's head turned to her companion. "We are using the bricks for building material. In fact, we need you to make sure things don't get smashed."

His eyes darted left to right again. "So I patrol?"

"Precisely," his elder answered.

And so, waiting for the big parade, the big, burly dinosaur held his rage and stood beside the large volcano float as it readied to pass Tyrammet Close. The others were discussing important plans, but it was all a blurry murmur to Grarrg. His mind was elsewhere, until his name would be mentioned for a split second, he'd try to catch up, and then zone out again. He never did like quiet get-togethers.

The engineer was at the back end of the float, and taking orders from the Grand Elder. It was almost time to get the float going.

"...And if you keep going past that road, take a left, and you should be able to join the rest of the parade in time."

"Thank you, engineer," Kyruggi said in universal Neopian. "Is everyone ready?"

The other members nodded.

"Grarrg? Ugg ta'a? "

The Grarrl quickly came to and bobbed his large head.

With a burst of fire from the makeshift exhaust pipe, the large, Tyrannian volcano float began to move. Eventually it did reach the square in Tyrammet Close just in time.

This year's celebration was fancier than most. There were countless balloons in the air, diverse crowds of cheering onlookers, and the countless specks of confetti and strings flowing in the air. The reds and purples and all the jovial noise began to crowd Grarrg's mind. Colourful things, waiting to be smashed...

He blindly waved his palm staff in the air, trying to smack some balloons around. They were so flimsy, and fast. They were taunting him. His frustration rose, and, lunging for a big one, he fell off the float and on top of a small omelette prop.

A pair of Buzzes lifted the clumsy dinosaur off the ground and back onto the moving float. He gathered himself, and raised his hands at the laughing crowd to assure them that he was alright.

"Sorry, is fine!" he announced in heavily flawed Neopian. Some heads nodded. Kyruggi approached her compatriot and patted him on the back.

"Just be careful, Grarrg," she told him in native Tyrannian. "Omelette will hopefully be the only thing you smash today."

He just shrugged his arms and feigned a grin. Despite the destruction of the omelette prop, things seemed to be going fine at the grand parade. The volcano finally sprayed its magical fire, and the nearby balloon Pterodactyl was flying like the real thing. However, as Grarrg's eyes turned to the rubber beast, a familiar face was soaring above.

The annoying rodent from earlier was back with a face full of panic. Swerving right past Grarrg, he stopped in front of the Grand Elder and explained the situation as best as he could.

"...And they're turning the entire neighborhood upside down with their mud-slinging bazookas!"

Kyruggi pondered a moment. "No sign of Geoffrey?"

"He's already down and out for the count."

Both faces turned to Grarrg.

"Grarrg," Kyruggi began. "We have ourselves a situation down at Volcano Lane. It appears we have some unwelcome guests..." She grinned. "I think you know what to do."

The parade was already ongoing, and the rows of Neopians were ogling the very floats they stood on, but Grarrg took this chance to take a 'dramatic' leap from the float and give the ground a good rumbling. He veered off the parade's normal path, with dozens of confused citizens and tourists in his wake. Luckily, the parade went on as normal.

***

Volcano Lane was a quaint little village at the edge of the Tyrannian Plateau. It had its far share of spacious huts and stone buildings, but today, a foul, brown substance covered them, and several buildings were overturned; even some were alight.

When Grarrg arrived at the crosswalk, he raised his head and sniffed the air. Burning rubble, molten dung... Ahh, the sweet smell of chaos. He tilted his head sideways in an attempt to pick up any sounds. First, there was only the faint fizzle of roasting wood and snapping sticks. But then, faint vibrations gave the ground its murmuring voice. He listened to the voice of trouble.

There were definitely hostiles here. He heard some light footsteps, and raised his palm staff. It was a Tyrannian Mynci, his matted fur dirtied even more with mud and unspeakable substance. He raised his paws as Grarrg lowered his, recognizing him as a civilian.

"Oh man, I'm glad you're here," the Mynci began. "Those Chia Bombers really rustled my jimmies." "Where are little Chias now?" the Grarrl barked.

"They're over there, man." The Mynci pointed toward the road toward the north. "Go get help if you can. I'm getting outta here!"

And with that, the Mynci scurried away, leaving the Grarrl by himself to face the impending rebels. He took a couple of steps forward, and saw a clearing of sorts: buildings yet untouched. As he ventured toward them, the rumble of feet on the ground was drawing ever closer. He then saw them: green blobs in the distance.

Grarrg's mouth of daggers curved into a predator's grin. His claws wrapped around his palm staff, and he took a stand, facing outward of the last clean portion of Volcano Lane.

The unintelligible rumble of Tyrannian expletives and other nonsense emitted by the incoming crowd drew ever nearer. The beasts eventually revealed themselves. A decent-sized herd, they were. Each one was a green, egg-shaped gremlin with grizzly, red hair atop their heads, beady, yellow almond eyes, and severe under-bite, like two Patamoose tusks protruding from underneath their lips. Slung over their shoulders were the aforementioned bazookas. No doubt they've had far too much grog, were bored, and looking for trouble.

"Ugggaa ugg, uggagaaa! " Their seeming ringleader shouted to Grarrg, waving his weapon. (You don't want to know what he just said!)

The Grarrl stood unabashed, however. "Haag ugg, Gal-aka Fyaar," he shot back. "This is your last chance to turn around, tiny baby Chias-"

*blop*! He was pelted with the mud mixture from a prematurely-firing bazooka. The cave-Chias began to laugh, but Grarrg simply wiped the mud off his face with one simple swoop of his claw. He took a stomp forward, and growled. All of the Chia Bombers except the ringleader took a step back.

"Fool Grarrl," the leading Chia Bomber called out in broken Tyrannian. "We have back-up! We will crush your puny village!"

The Chia fired one shot of his own bazooka into the air, and suddenly, several more Chia Bombers, Buzzes, and Skeith Invaders appeared from around the trees. A roar rose out from behind Grarrg, and he took a quick glance behind him; out from behind the local granary rose a long, blue neck with green spikes and fiery eyes. It was a Giant Hungry Malevolent Chomby.

With adrenaline rising, Grarrg grasped his staff in both hands and took a fighting stance, his carnivorous mouth folding into a snarl. "I am Tyrannian Battle master," he roared. "Come face me, and I smash you to bits!"

The leading Chia ordered a charge, and they all came forth in a convulsed mob of untrained soldiers. All like colourful bricks, ready to be crushed.

Before rushing into battle, the Battlemaster opened his serrated maw and let out his war cry.