NEOPIAN TIMES 400TH ISSUE SPECIAL

Celebrating the Neopian Times
By Concertogreat_8

A generation of Neopian writers fair,
Striking upright with quills held high,
With glowing faces and messy hair,
A collective whisper, a happy sigh.

Their work is submitted and done,
They wait to see how the Editor receives.
Finished, yet their worries are just begun,
Hoping not to ask for reprieves.

The Catacombs are calm and dark,
Inside cafes the writers scribble,
Blank papers they furiously mark,
Characters arise and start to quibble.

Neopia is a land where stories grow;
Submitting their work to the Neopian Times,
Writers churn to aid the flow,
A varied slew, from Myncis to limes.

Articles are produced with toil and thought,
Their authors moan about their pride,
Yet seem to happily accept their lot,
Taking publication all in stride.

In the early morning glow of dawn,
Neopians are standing 'round the Headquarters,
A jumbled crowd clustered on the lawn,
And up rises a cheer for all the NT workers.

What Do the Weewoos Do?
By Anjie

Four hundred issues rolled around,
The press was running fast!
Editing and spelling checks,
Before the time dashed past.
In conversation did I state,
How sorry I did feel.
For frazzled writers, yet reply,
A strange thing did reveal.

"The Times?" my friend did loudly state,
"Not run by any pet!"
"Not true!" I cried. "Who else is there?"
I babbled, so upset.
Then my friend a tale told,
So strange, could it be true?
"You won't find pets in office space,
But may find a Weewoo!"

"They edit every single thing,
They make the comics run.
For Weewoo spelling skills are strong,
And yet to be outdone."
"How do they write then?" did I ask,
The tale, incomplete.
For friend did tell me, rather soft,
"Of course, they use their feet!"

"They put the stories in a row,
The articles they check.
Why, without those small Petpets,
The place would be a wreck!"
My friend did pause and then admit,
"They're watched, let's not forget!
By a maiden, clever lass,
The one they call 'Droplet.'

Too much to take in, shook my head,
Could this all be true?
Will my Times be sorted out,
By some clever Weewoo?
Issue 400 did arrive,
Upon my own doormat.
Between the comics and the notes,
One odd white feather sat...

Issue 400
By Kittengriffin

Four hundred issues of the Neopian Times,
For hundreds of authors cheering to find,
That their story shall be shown to friends,
That their characters shall last till the end,
And the Weewoos call out to the masses:
Take a copy before the supply all passes!

Four hundred issues of the Neopian Times,
Four hundred weeks of the curious minds,
Writing and drawing and explaining to all,
What it means when a Weewoo does call,
To summon eager readers to their doors,
Ready to explore new imaginary shores.

Four hundred issues of the Neopian Times,
Four hundred weeks of black and white lines,
Silently parading across crisply folded pages,
Drawing out minds from within their cages,
To see the twin lights of wonder and magic,
Or parallel storylines, one joyous, one tragic.

Four hundred issues of the Neopian Times,
Four hundred weeks of stories to mine,
Written and drawn, black, white, or coloured,
Anything from ghosts to heroes or brothers,
Rogues, Werelupes, travellers, and villains,
All these and more, stories by the million.

A Tale of the Times
By Jayo289

Ladies and Gentlemen, look at this,
It's the most delightful sight.
So don't delay and step on up here,
It's glossy, pristine, and white.

There's curly writing in jet-black ink,
And blue quills, but I advise,
Caution: Quills may be sharp,
They might poke out your eyes.

The writing never fails to amaze,
But remember to take care.
As if you're wearing lucky green boots,
You might find some ants in there.

Read the stories and articles,
They're all filled with such fun.
But beware the lack of sanity,
As here it's forbidden.

Don't forget the comics too,
But be careful that you don't blink!
For you might find a white Weewoo,
Except they don't exist (wink, wink).

So if only one doth remain,
Keep your footing steady.
There is just one weapon to use,
Battle Quills... ready!

And if you're looking for a brush,
There's only one to stock.
Get on to that Rainbow Pool,
Invisible Paint Brushes rock!

The Neopian Times, it is the best,
But now I've got to stroll.
I'd talk forever about this paper,
But a Yurble stole my cinnamon roll.

400
By Rosabellk

A white Weewoo sits on its perch near my house,
Singing its sad, haunting song.
I wake up, pull on my clothes, head out the door;
I've waited for so very long.
And finally, here it is: issue four hundred.
A milestone long in the making.
I'm so excited while going downstairs that
I can hardly stop my hands shaking.

I open the door and, behold, there it is,
Sitting right there on my stoop.
I pick it up, savouring it, eager to read
The latest stories and news scoop.
To my kitchen I go, spread it out on the table
And open it to the first page.
I gasp, all in awe of the wonderful stories;
It's clear why it is all the rage.

I go through the comics, and then articles;
Short stories and series are next.
So many creative tales are spun within,
So many topics and subjects.
This is truly the greatest Neopian Times
To come out since the paper began;
And I should know, since I have read every one!
I am the NT's biggest fan!

At last, I am finished; I turn the last page,
Lay the issue down on my table.
I take a deep breath and try to clear my head,
Steady myself as well as I'm able.
I can think of no equal to this masterpiece,
This paper that I so adore.
Week after week, it brightens my days;
Here's hoping for four hundred more!

Four Hundred and Counting
By Precious_katuch14

Four hundred issues and counting,
Four hundred issues so far,
Through it all, the Neopian Times
Continues to raise the bar!

Tales of action and adventure,
Tearjerkers and comedies galore,
Heroes and villains abound
In Neopia's diverse folklore!

The author's pen guides those
Who are lost and confuzzled.
With articles about gourmet food,
Games, clothes, and Evil Fuzzles!

Artists are armed with pencil and paper;
In comics, their jokes come to life.
Providing laughter through trying times
And smiles through sadness and strife.

White Weewoos soar and fly
As they deliver each issue
Without fail, through rain or shine,
Their dedication rings ever true!

Anything and everything in its pages;
There is something for everyone.
For writers, a sense of accomplishment
Looking back at masterpieces done!

Four hundred issues and counting,
The thrill and fun won't ever stop!
Through it all, the Neopian Times
Remains forever on top!

Writing for the Neopian Times
By Icesmith

Fluttering quills, the Chia writes,
Of damsels and heroes, sequels galore,
But angered with the prose, the paper coils,
And he chucks it toward the floor.
"Oh why, oh why," the Chia exclaims,
"Am I unable to write a good tale?"
And with a swish, reaches for pad,
Another paper revealed, prim and pale.
The Chia writes once more, his head flooded,
Ideas pouring throughout his brain,
Another story attempt for the Neopian Times,
Yet after completion it appears so plain.
And so he sits, mind-boggled and empty,
For a story that would gain acceptance soon,
But before long, the Chia waits and waits,
The sun does welcome the moon.
And then it hits, the Chia squeals,
It all makes sense, he begins to write,
A smile elongating, his fist uncoils,
And he publishes "Poetry: what a sight."

Times Writers
By Sariphe

Quills:
Inky marks tracing words and lines
A tale is formed, adventure abounds
The sharpened tip, words defined
Creating tiny scratching sounds

Parchment:
Smells of fresh grass and starch
Graced by the hand of creativity
Across its surface lines of words march
The mark of writers' activity

Neopian Times:
Issues abound among all the lands
Filled to make 400 strong
Crafted strong by many hands
Urged on by the poet's song

Sleep:
The bane of writers everywhere
With drooping eyes they fight
Rumpled clothes and messy hair
And ink stains marked through the night

Insanity:
Friend of all creative minds
A genius made from incoherence
In anyone the talent finds
Ability with hidden appearance

Glee:
A letter from a higher power
Tells of publishing, works abound
Dishevelled writer takes a shower
Knowing of a mind unsound

Since the Neopian Times Came
By Nut862

Since the morning that quill was first set to paper,
Since the day care-crafted entries first were read,
Since the evening we first embarked on this caper,
Since the day publication was given the go-ahead,
Since the first newspaper was laid to dry,
Four hundred weeks have gone fleeting by.

Since before the Weewoo's feathers turned white,
Since before Chet Flash wuz ever here,
Since before the young even learned to write,
Since before "Times writer" was a career,
Since before we noticed that time was flowing,
Four hundred issues have slowly been growing.

Since our love of writing drove our words out,
Since our work was first printed for all to see,
Since we got curious what these tales were about,
Since we discovered how much fun writing can be,
Since we asked the editor to read our submission,
Four hundred issues are archived in recognition.

Since the time we first heard a white Weewoo sing,
Since the music that we could never forget,
Since the feather quill dropped from a snowy wing,
Since the ink-dipped quill was to paper set,
Since the first short story that we ever read,
Four hundred memories have formed in our head.

Since the quill, once lifted, cannot be dropped,
Since the Weewoo's song still fills our heart,
Since the ideas, once started, cannot be stopped,
Since there are still so many tales to impart,
Since it's far more than trophies we're winning,
Four hundred issues is just the beginning.

Writing for the Neopian Times
By Soaringeagle25

Racking brains and chewing a quill,
Searching for the perfect words.
Straining your train of thought
To move your prose onward.

But yet you just seem to stall,
Nothing sounds quite right.
You scribble something down,
Erase, and then rewrite.

It always sounds a little wrong,
Or perhaps just not correct?
Dealing with writer's block
Gives you much time to reflect.

You toss your crumpled paper,
With a muted mumbling groan.
It seems you'll just never find
The ideal wording or perfect tone.

This problem makes you ponder:
Is this writing business really for me?
Because I'm just writing an editorial,
Not even a Neopian Times story!

TNT's Endless Rock Supply
By Indulgences

We hear it commonly enough.
"TNT, you rock! -throws rock-"
It's seen in every editorial.
It's how half of Neopia talks.

I wonder what they do with all
Those rocks and cookies thrown.
The Neopian Times editorial
Must make them moan and groan.

They ask us not to mention rocks.
They dodge our cookie tosses.
They bandage heads and cover desks
To minimise their losses.

They scream and block computer screens.
They guard their laptops too.
They dodge the stones and brush the crumbs
Away from keyboards new.

I'm sorry, Neopets Team, for all
The trouble we seem to make!
So have a pie! -throws pie and laughs-
Mwahaha! That pie's freshly baked!