Tales from the Land of Ooo Read Online Free

Finn asked.
    “BLERG!!!!”
    THE END!
    1 . Finn and Jake would totally NOT agree with that, BTW—I asked them, trust me.

TREE FORT FRONT YARD SALE
    Finn and Jake were playing Twister, and Finn was
not
having fun. Finn didn’t dislike Twister, per se—in fact, he sort of kind of
really
wanted to play Twister with Flame Princess. But Finn
hated
playing Twister with Jake, because Jake never, ever lost.

    “Left butt, red,” BMO said, in that impossibly soft and cute little BMO voice.
    “Dude,” Finn said, sweat pouring off him as he tried to get his butt over to red. “This—
oww
—isn’t really—
argh
—fair.”
    “Why not?” Jake said.
    “You’re wrapped around every which way! You’ve got, like, five elbows and six butts right now!”
    “Don’t be a hater,” Jake replied.
    Finn stretched and struggled and reached and moaned and groaned and then—
    “GAH!”
    Finn lost his balance and collapsed on the floor in a sprawled-out human boy heap. As he did, his right foot slammed into the wall of the Tree Fort. And on that wall hung something very sharp and very bright and very poke-y…

    A yellow dagger.

    Finn’s accidental kick knocked it free, so that it was now plummeting to the ground!
    THUNK!
    “Whoa!” Jake said. “I almost got pincushioned!
That
is it!
There is an overload of junk in this joint.”

    “Junk?” Finn said. “What junk? I only see awesome lame treasures.”

    “Yeah, well, one man’s treasure is another dog’s junk—and this dog thinks this stuff is junk,” Jake replied. “But don’t worry. I have a solution.”
    Finn waited.
    “One word…,” Jake said.
    Finn’s eyes were wide with anticipation.
    “Tree Fort Front Yard Sale!” Jake exclaimed.
    Finn thought for a moment and then said, “That is not one word. That is five words that separately are all kinda
eh, whatever—
although
fort
is pretty much cool no matter what—but you put those five words together, and you know what, Jake?”
    “What, Finn?”
    “I LOVE it! I am freaking
all about
offering people the chance to buy our radical possessions at bargain-basement prices.”

    SOME TIME LATER…
    Jake and Finn were going through the tree house, room by room, throwing stuff in For Sale boxes. They already had two big boxes filled to the brim.
    But as Finn went through the bedroom, throwing in skulls and helmets and other items, he began to feel a little sad. “I’m maybe rethinking this, Jake. These items hold so many memories…”
    “Memories I would have
lost
permanently
, if that golden dagger of yours had throttled my skull like it almost did,” Jake said.
    “I guess…,” Finn said.
    “To put on a good Tree Fort Front Yard Sale, you have to be merciless and cold-blooded, dude. No emotions,” Jake said. “Like me!”
    “Okay, I guess you’re right,” Finn said as he tossed an empty cardboard toilet paper tube into the For Sale box.
    “NOOO!!!” Jake cried out. “Not that! Whatsa matter with you? That’s got memory attached to it.”
    Jake yanked the empty cardboard toilet paper tube out of the box. “I said ‘cold-blooded,’ Finn. Not downright heartless.”
    But pretty soon, they had agreed on a fair number of things which they felt didn’t have
too many
memories attached to them. In the front yard, they set up tables. Tables teeming with Tree Fort junk: shark jaws and pelts from strange beasts from across the Land of Ooo and gauntlets and swords and maces and blades and a pillow.
    “Hmm,” Finn said, looking at the tables. “Do you think we should be selling all these maces and clubs and swords? Shouldn’t there be, like, a waiting period or something?”
    “Eh, who cares,” Jake said. “But you know what we should do? We should put out some horsd’oeuvres. Class this thing up. Get people in the spending mood.”
    “And look at that,” Finn said, pointing at folks coming over the hill. “Here they come now.”
    “Oh man, now I gotta rush on the hors d’oeuvres!” Jake