Cheese Mountain loomed in the distance like a gigantic wedge of cheese, glowing a deep, unnatural yellow under the purple sky. There was no real explanation for how it had gotten there—most people, if asked, would just shrug and say, “Magic, probably.” But one thing was certain: it was no ordinary mountain. It was a mountain of cheese, and legend had it that whoever conquered it would gain the ability to rule over all the dairy products of the world.
Of course, not everyone believed the legend. In fact, only one person did: Dervin the Slightly-Confused, a wandering hero with no particular skills, no grand ambitions, and no real idea of what he was doing. But Dervin had something that no one else had—an unshakable belief in the utter absurdity of his destiny.
The Hero No One Asked For
Dervin was not a man of great stature or impressive talent. He was, in fact, quite small, especially for someone about to take on a cheese mountain. He was also rather bad at things. He couldn’t fight, he had no magic, and his knowledge of the world was mostly limited to the fact that it was round and occasionally covered in cheese. But there was one thing that made Dervin stand out among all the other would-be heroes: his remarkable ability to misunderstand everything.
Take, for instance, the day he received a letter from a mysterious stranger. It was a thick parchment, sealed with a wax emblem that resembled a rather confused-looking goat. The letter read:
“Dervin, you are destined to conquer Cheese Mountain. It is your fate. You must gather a team of brave adventurers and set forth immediately. Beware the Gouda Guardians, for they are relentless. They will stop at nothing to prevent you from reaching the summit.”
Dervin stared at the letter, scratching his head. “Wait,” he muttered aloud, “Gouda Guardians? Does that mean… cheesy knights? Do I need to bring crackers? I don’t know what to pack for this kind of thing.”
And so, armed with nothing but his confusion and a backpack full of what he assumed would be helpful—a loaf of bread, three socks, a rubber chicken, and an old shoe—he set off toward Cheese Mountain.
The Journey Begins (Kind of)
Dervin’s journey was far from ordinary. Along the way, he encountered a series of surreal and absurd characters, each more bizarre than the last.
First, he met Mervin the Philosophical Duck, a creature who spent most of his days pondering the nature of cheese. “Do you think cheese is truly happy, Dervin? Or is it just a reflection of our own desires for comfort and stability?” Mervin quacked, pacing in circles around Dervin.
Dervin, naturally, had no answer, but he nodded politely and tossed Mervin a slice of bread. “I think the bread’s happy,” Dervin said, as if this was a reasonable response to a duck’s philosophical musings.
After parting ways with Mervin, Dervin stumbled upon a group of tree-wizards who spent their days weaving invisible sweaters for clouds. When Dervin asked them for advice on how to defeat the Gouda Guardians, they gave him an entire book titled “How to Deal with Things You Don’t Understand: A Beginner’s Guide”.
“Chapter One: Don’t take anything too seriously,” the book read. “It’s all just a giant cosmic joke, and you’re the punchline.”
Feeling inspired, Dervin closed the book and continued his trek up the mountain, now certain that the key to success lay in absolute nonsense.
The Cheese Guardians
When Dervin finally reached the base of Cheese Mountain, he was greeted by an army of Gouda Guardians—tall, armored beings made entirely of cheese. They stood motionless, their faces expressionless as they guarded the entrance to the mountain.
Dervin scratched his head. “Well, I thought they’d be more… knightly. But okay, cheese people, I can work with this.”
One of the Guardians, a particularly large one with a helmet shaped like a wedge of brie, stepped forward. “You must prove your worth to climb the mountain,” it intoned in a voice that sounded like a block of cheddar being grated. “Answer this riddle, and you may pass.”
Dervin, who had never been particularly good at riddles (or anything, really), squinted at the Guardian. “Hit me with your best shot,” he said confidently.
The Guardian’s eyes gleamed. “What cheese is always the most suspicious?”
Dervin paused, scratching his chin. “Uh… I’m going to guess… ‘Paranoia?’”
The Guardian blinked. “That’s… not even a cheese.”
“Well, it should be,” Dervin grinned, “but you know what? I’ll go with ‘Swiss.’ It’s full of holes. Pretty suspicious, right?”
The Gouda Guardian stared at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “We… accept your answer,” it said, clearly baffled by the absurdity of it all. “You may pass.”
The Surreal Climb
Climbing Cheese Mountain was far more difficult than Dervin had anticipated. The ground beneath him was slippery, covered in soft, gooey cheese that occasionally morphed into various forms of strange creatures. Once, he accidentally stepped on a small cheese puff that turned into a tiny talking cloud and floated off.
At the summit, Dervin was met with a surprising sight: a giant cheese wheel. It rolled toward him with an impressive velocity, somehow moving faster than logic would allow.
As it neared, Dervin screamed, “Not again with the cheese puns!” and hurled his rubber chicken at it. The chicken miraculously exploded into a shower of confetti, blocking the cheese wheel and halting its advance.
From behind the wheel emerged The Great Cheese Overlord, a being made entirely of various cheeses. Its body shimmered with an unsettling combination of cheddar, gouda, and mozzarella. It was, as expected, incredibly cheesy.
“Well done, Dervin,” the Cheese Overlord boomed. “You’ve conquered my mountain. Now, what will you do with the power of the dairy world?”
Dervin scratched his head, completely uncertain of how to answer. “I’m just here for the cheese,” he said nonchalantly.
The Cheese Overlord blinked, clearly stunned. “Then, take this cheese, hero,” it said with a dramatic flourish, handing Dervin a wheel of the finest cheese known to exist.
The Absurd End (and Beginning)
As Dervin descended from the mountain, he realized that his journey had been nothing more than a series of absurd coincidences, each more ridiculous than the last. He had conquered Cheese Mountain not through skill, bravery, or knowledge, but simply through his complete inability to take anything seriously.
In the end, it didn’t matter. The world was absurd, and Dervin, for all his confusion, was the one person who truly understood that.
And so, with a wheel of cheese in hand, he wandered off into the sunset, not as a hero, but as someone who had finally embraced the utter chaos of the world.
