Wilbur Wrong Is Alone For Long: Part I

The sea was like a mirror of millions of sparkling pearls, gleaming at him and smiling in a sinister fashion. This vast expanse of space that many call "The Pacific Ocean" threatened to end Young Wilbur's life if he could not find the caressing confines of land. Wilbur Wrongenhergen had been living out his life as his name would suggest: Wrong place, Wrong time. Or so the headline of his obituary would read, he thought. Wilbur chuckled at this notion. "Ha! That headline would be the greatest of all time! I'd be famous!" He had been extremely excited for all of 5 minutes, when his dreams came crashing down to earth when he realized he was out in the very middle of the Pacific Ocean in one small, rubber raft that was barely afloat. No one would be able to know he had survived the horrible horrible accident of the Scrindenberg, the less popular and less publisized cousin to the german Zeppelin Hindenburg that crashed only two days earlier on the east coast. What a lucky turn of events for young Wilbur. He had won tickets to escape poverty-stricken Germany when he bought a loaf a bread and got another one at half price ("What a Steal!"). The Scrindenberg made a wrong turn somewhere along the way from Germany to New York and ended up in Honululu, Hawaii. Wilbur didn't understand how this was possible, but alas, on it's way back to mainland USA, it was encased with flames. Not a soul survived. Except Wilbur Wrongenhergen. Lucky Wilbur. Wilbur had brought with him on board a large umbrella that had been given to him by a German street vendor named Klein. Curious Klein, thought Wilbur, with his long, bright white hair, curly q mustache, liederhosen, and a large cane that he used to crack walnuts. Klein also spoke like a pirate.
But Klien was as clever and useful as he was odd. Klein was famous in Germany for his strange inventions that many people questioned but oddly enough, worked. Like his stool that converted into a pencil sharpener, or his tea kettle that could be transformed into a cowbell, or his Eye glasses that could sharpen pencils, or his shovel that could change colours so you don't lose it when you leave it outside, or his rubber-tree plant that could sharpen pencils.
He had a real facination with making sure people had sharp pencils. He was also a botanist. Klein saw Young Wilbur on the street and said, "YOUR A FAT ONE! YOU'LL NEED THIS GIANT UMBRELLA TO KEEP YOU FROM GETTING THE WATER ON YOU! BECAUSE OF YOUR LARGE GIRTH! IT ALSO SHARPENS PENCILS!" When Wilbur heard the screaming and the commotion of the explosion of the Zeppelin, he quickly leapt out of the large blimp and grabbed a hold of his umbrella, that was so large that it acted as if it were a parachute. Wilbur had also gotten lucky, as the crew had tossed an inflatable raft out to whoever needed it. Suffice it to say the only person needing it's floatation was Wilbur.
Young Wilbur was always known in Germany for stealing other kids Bratwurst, liverwurst, sauerkraut, spanferkel (his favourite), Hasenpfeffer, currywurst, Bavarian cream pies, and anything that he put his slimey, fat mitts on. He could not get enough of that sweet sweet German cuisine, which did not bode well for him in this instance, with the weight of his oversized body taxing the bouyancy of the inflatable raft to the point of sinking. He was scared. He was alone. But he had Klein's umbrella and it gave him comfort.

To be continued...