Tuesday 08/07/90 08:03:47 AM From [>>>] TaleTeller [<<<] Tuesday 08/07/90 12:30:13 PM From Stargazer Tuesday 08/07/90 20:47:17 PM From [Another missive from] That Infernal Blue 'Gads, not another one. We haven't cleaned out the last one
yet.'
Wednesday 08/08/90 00:44:57 AM From [>>>] TaleTeller [<<<] Noting an Infernal Blue being standing nearby, the old man
conscripts him as slave labor. He shoves Stargazer's bags at TIB
and orders him to take SG up to the penthouse. The unfortunate
TIB finds himself compelled to do so, staggering under
Stargazer's heavy baggage.
Wednesday 08/08/90 19:30:23 PM From [Another missive from] That Infernal Blue [staggering noises. like this: ]
Umph!
[and]
URK!
[plus]
Agh Glurble!
Thursday 08/09/90 07:31:07 AM From Agressiva hey! copyright infringment! i'm gonna sue!
Thursday 08/09/90 14:51:29 PM From Storm Friday 08/10/90 08:28:32 AM From [>>>] TaleTeller [<<<] Friday 08/10/90 10:30:27 AM From [SysPantheon] Red Dorakeen [and AI modules] Friday 08/10/90 23:51:43 PM From [>>>] TaleTeller [<<<] Saturday 08/11/90 09:12:24 AM From Storm Saturday 08/11/90 23:24:06 PM From [ ] Bard of the BBS [drifts in] Sunday 08/12/90 11:13:11 AM From kris Sunday 08/12/90 13:45:17 PM From [It's] Red Dorakeen [! (Not again....)] [ for more information on the battered blue pickup, be sure
to pick up a copy of Zelazny's "roadmarks" at a bookstore or
library near you -- ED.]
Monday 08/13/90 00:15:58 AM From [>>>] TaleTeller [<<<] Wednesday 08/22/90 19:33:41 PM From Tigerclutch NH Wednesday 08/22/90 23:18:19 PM From John Tom [viewable problem user] Thursday 08/23/90 06:02:38 AM From [From Heaven it's] Emmett [come to Earth] Thursday 08/23/90 21:15:21 PM From Luther Arkwright Friday 08/24/90 10:20:38 AM From [@|')] Willun [visiting] Friday 08/24/90 19:53:03 PM From John Tom [viewable problem user] Saturday 08/25/90 10:43:26 AM From Agressiva Saturday 08/25/90 14:04:47 PM From [yes, it's] Tigerclutch NH [. ain't that exciting...] Sunday 08/26/90 02:34:31 AM From [Sez] Red Dorakeen [Wow, what a concept!] Sunday 08/26/90 00:10:58 AM From John Tom [viewable problem user] Monday 08/27/90 20:06:53 PM From Luther Arkwright Monday 08/27/90 21:52:33 PM From [soft smile] TaleTeller [on a warm night] Tuesday 08/28/90 00:47:32 AM From John Tom [viewable problem user] Tuesday 08/28/90 19:00:42 PM From Donal Wednesday 08/29/90 06:02:40 AM From [soft smile] TaleTeller [on a warm night] Wednesday 08/29/90 01:08:53 AM From [).^^.(] kris [has been returned] Through that little hole within a crack, appears a mouse.
of the brilliant and loyal variety... and female. musta been
female. ...creeps down the wall to a little crack in the floor.
There is no hole in this crack in the floor. Obviously. Whyever
would the mistress mouse set down a "Kris" in a crack with a hole
in it? Why she would fall through. Couldn't have That.....
The mouse scampers off and dissapears into the crack (and
hole) in the corner...^^^ over yonder. The "kris" looks upwards
with her thumb in her mouth and waves goodbye. Then she promptly
starts to throw pennies at all the unsuspecting passerby's....
Wednesday 08/29/90 02:34:57 AM From John Tom [viewable problem user] Friday Aug 31 1990 11:53:27 AM From Tigerclutch NH Friday Aug 31 1990 16:59:24 PM From NightHawk Oh Waitress!!!! Change that coffee to a 151 & Coke please....
hehhehehehe, and do raise the hemline on yer dress an inch or so,
will ya? The scenery in this place is dreary and needs a little
improving.......
Saturday Sep 1 1990 19:52:54 PM From [?] Storm [?] Tuesday Sep 11 1990 17:29:12 PM From Myddrin ap Taliesin Tuesday Sep 11 1990 20:21:29 PM From Agressiva Tuesday Sep 11 1990 23:47:45 PM From The Silent Observer ..."Can someone send the valet to park my Lamborghini?"
Wednesday Sep 12 1990 01:13:48 AM From Goliath Wednesday Sep 12 1990 03:00:55 AM From [====] TaleTeller [!!] The crowd looks at each other.
Then they stampede for the door.
Wednesday Sep 12 1990 13:42:40 PM From [Go to the shelf,] Red Dorakeen [get the CAN.] Wednesday Sep 12 1990 17:06:19 PM From [just the] Bard [Of the Nevermind.] Thursday Sep 13 1990 05:47:21 AM From Myddrin ap Taliesin Thursday Sep 13 1990 09:07:52 AM From [====] TaleTeller [!!] "Sign here, sir." The sickly old man hands him a registrar
and a pen to sign with, covered in slug slime. MaT shudders and
takes out his own pen. The old man summons over his slave he had
conscripted earlier, but he forgot who it was, and so it is
Goliath who suddenly finds himself goose- stepping obediently to
the desk. "Do you have any baggage, sir?" the old man asks MaT.
Thursday Sep 13 1990 19:39:59 PM From Myddrin ap Taliesin Friday Sep 14 1990 00:20:06 AM From The Silent Observer Friday Sep 14 1990 00:57:48 AM From Goliath Friday Sep 14 1990 03:39:48 AM From [Dour, short,] Red Dorakeen [looks like a deevil.] Saturday Sep 15 1990 13:03:12 PM From The Silent Observer Sunday Sep 16 1990 04:36:42 AM From [Dour, short,] Red Dorakeen [looks like a deevil.] Sunday Sep 16 1990 12:09:55 PM From [Just the] Bard [Of the BBS] Monday Sep 17 1990 00:27:22 AM From The Silent Observer ...did I hear someone looking for the company that made my
briefcase? ...just go up the Road about 17 centuries, then make
a sharp left (don't slow down much, or you'll never make it)...
keep going for a while, until you're completely lost, then ask
directions... ...hey, don't look at me like that, that's how
I found it... ...of course, you COULD look up their
local agent, Balsamo Marketing... ...but you'll need a Paris
phone book published between 1949 and 1968...
Monday Sep 17 1990 05:06:14 AM From [Dour, short,] Red Dorakeen [looks like a deevil.] Monday Sep 17 1990 00:54:23 AM From The Silent Observer Monday Sep 17 1990 02:20:20 AM From [Dour, short,] Red Dorakeen [looks like a deevil.] Tuesday Sep 18 1990 23:04:02 PM From The Silent Observer Wednesday Sep 19 1990 20:47:49 PM From Luther Arkwright Thursday Sep 20 1990 17:52:26 PM From [Dour, short,] Red Dorakeen [looks like a deevil.] Friday Sep 21 1990 22:02:26 PM From [?] Storm [?] Saturday Sep 22 1990 02:45:41 AM From [====] TaleTeller [!!] Saturday Sep 22 1990 05:59:52 AM From [Dour, short,] Red Dorakeen [looks like a deevil.] Sunday Sep 23 1990 19:51:09 PM From Luther Arkwright Thursday Sep 27 1990 22:20:37 PM From Merlin Monday Oct 1 1990 17:20:30 PM From [?] Storm [?] Tuesday Oct 2 1990 21:56:28 PM From NightHawk Wednesday Oct 3 1990 20:02:38 PM From [?] Storm [?] Friday Oct 5 1990 20:57:37 PM From Belgarath Friday Oct 5 1990 22:15:16 PM From [Bald Faced] Luther Arkwright [Go Away Bird] Saturday Oct 6 1990 17:45:16 PM From [?] Storm [?] Saturday Oct 6 1990 20:11:02 PM From Belgarath Saturday Oct 6 1990 22:17:05 PM From [Demon-breed] xyzyx [, Dragonslayer!] Sunday Oct 7 1990 07:40:26 AM From [====] TaleTeller [!!] Sunday Oct 7 1990 11:08:39 AM From [Bald Faced] Luther Arkwright [Go Away Bird] Sunday Oct 7 1990 19:41:42 PM From Belgarath Sunday Oct 7 1990 23:19:51 PM From The Silent Observer Monday Oct 8 1990 05:17:24 AM From Red Dorakeen
My, we've not had anyone here in a long
time! A nice young woman tiptoes over to Edward Jr. and grabs
him by his hair (assuming he has some) and starts dragging him
up the stairs screaming, "I GOT ONE!"
Yes I believe
that I have reservations for the 'penthouse suite?'
Gruff old man, body twisted and wracked
by disease pops up at Stargazer's shoulder. voice creaks like
rusted iron gates, "Yeeeees, I believe you doooooo......" old man
flips through guest book, blowing cobwebs and black widows out of
the pages. "AAAaaaah, yeeees, here you are."
I walk through the door into a musty room and I am
disgusted by the smell of the place, Suddenly I am grabbed from
behind and dimly hear a female voice saying "I got one"
The female in question drags Storm away
into a musty alcove with a sign saying, "This way to Red Dwarf's
Bitch&Moan&Whine room" She reappears in the doorway a few minutes
later and says to all present, "Anyone here seen this boy's
friend The Hobbit?"
At least it
didn't say "This way to Red Dwarf's Fresh Musty Alcove room"
(Red manages somehow to sense the oncoming grab before it
connects... maybe having something with his copy of Flowers of
Evil emitting loud "look out behind you!" noises... and dive-
rolls into the next room...)
Where he is immediately attacked by mad
smother-bunnies. Beautiful fuzzy rabbit-types here to avenge
thousands of years of murder of their Earthly cousins by human
beings. Red rolls for the door and almost makes it when suddenly...
I come to in a strange looking place called B&M&W
(identified by garishly painted sign on the door) and again I am
attacked but this time by bunnies, they are fended off by the
female in question and (whew) Iblack out
And Green Gooseberry Demons flood into the tower
intent upon having you for supper. Think fast, campers.
Kris, (with a
capitol K) who had previously been peacefully taking a nice nap
upstairs on the roof is awakened by numerous sounds of...well,
something. Some sounded like insane screaming, some sounded like
urghs and oofs, but mostly, Kris smelled dinner.
"Flowers! GET (ack!) THE
(oof!) TRUCK (ow! Watch it!) IN (-swat!- bounce bounce whimper)
HERE (hey!) NOW...." THree seconds later a battered blue 1953
Dodge pickup somehow manages to drive thru the double doors and
stops next to Red and the strange book of French poetry... he
leaves very quickly... unfortunately several of the homocidal
bunny rabbits get squashed... (soory, breaks of warfare, ya
stupid rodents!)
TT sits on the front steps, watching
the sun set in the North. (Yes, I mean that) My, the clouds
are beautiful. Like flaming silver red and orange, tasting the
mountaintops. TT sighs, and leans contentedly back, hearing the
occasional scream from behind her inside the Hotel.
clutch suddenly changes form and snarls at the human fly in the
room. Clutch leaps, and attacks, and is in a position to kill.
A creature with a paranoid persona, the fly
reacted with a deft slide around the left side of the gathering
while pulling a swagger stick from under its coat. He raised it
like a baton as though to orchestrate his way out of the
situation.
When he disappears. Everyone looks
about in confusion to where that Emmett fellow is still sitting
in a chair. He shrugs and mutters, "I can't smoke a good
cigarette in peace anywhere."
Luther concurs while lighting his pipe. A sweet smell wafts
from it. "Ah! Good Black Cavendish with a touch of Opium is a
wonderful smell." Luther then waits for the manager to attack.
He has read he sign that says: "Warning! Attack Willun on
premeses!"
"Anybody foolish enough to attack me will get it folks,"
snarls Willun. Then she throws a water balloon at the smokers.
The balloon rotates as it arcs up, then descends
to burst over their heads a smothering cloud of Balkan Sobranie
tobacco, Tibetan hash, and a two weeks worth of vacuum bag from
the lobby.
an aardvark ghost pops in from nowhere for
just an instant, and idly ponders attacking the willun.
Clutch (still in tiger form)
decides to curl up in a corner by the fireplace for awhile and
wait for the fly to return...
"my truck died in the
driveway... anybody got jumper cables... oop ack, sorry, looks
kinda tense in here... I'll just call triple-a... bueno, bye..."
spite of better judgement the fly desires the
days paper from the news kiosk. It contains a vital message in
the love lorn section. dressed in a bellhops suit and entering
from the employes only door he steals in,the plush velvet bagging
around him, cap pulled down. But his antenna poke out either side.
With his plans about burst like wonderful rotten fruit he wants
no problems with lazy cats and assorted preposterous boors. But
just in case he fingers a small glass ball in his pocket.
Luther
continues to enjoy his fropp...
TaleTeller re-
appears after a short absence. Taking Emmett's hand and waving
to TigerClutch, she heads for the upstairs balcony. "I have some
thing to show you."
unaffected by interruptions, free to peruse the
paper the fly giggles in the corner of the kiosk. His answer has
arrived. It reads "M will M in lobby N, tomarrow".
Greesings
Nighthawk, swo' how tha hell are ya? Donal says as the beer-a-
mid on the table (26 cans) goes crashing to the floor, and is
shortly followed by Donal.
TT thumbs her nose
at Goliath from the top balcony. Emmett and TigerClutch and her
all stare out at the nifty sight before them. Somewhere in time,
the scenery has shifted, and we are now looking out on the
Plains of Ra, where a very special type of horse and human live.
^..there. see it? in that little nitch between the "." and the
"(" is a crack... a little hole for those of the small variety
to creep through. A truly magnificant (why is that pronounced
magnifiSant Kris wonders during a pause for breath) piece of
imagination.. But then, what can we expect? Since the beginning
of time Mice have been extremely adept at out witting the
infamous, satanic, Evil of all Evils, Cat... in fact, it's
even been record in the cartoons. Only really important things
are recorded THERE...
Neglecting caution the fly discardes his hat and
flings himself across the room, attempting to capture each copper.
Lust and greed (the friend of good against evil) has got hold of
of his actions before the mind kicks in. Suddenly aware of his
stupid state he screeches in fury. His multi-eyes seek out the
conveyer of his calamity and seeing a small hole in the wall
secures the glass globe in his pocket and dashes it with a quick
throw toward the hole. It bursts with a green glow. Satisfied, he
spins about, then bolts for the stairs, the door still closing
while half-way to the second floor.
Clutch finds a small corner to sit and growl in since he knows
that TT would get mad over another attack on the fly.
Oh,
Hello there Donnal, Say....Is that an interesting place you've
found on the floor? Hmmm, Looks safe at least, what with all
these fly's leaping around, critters crawling, and tiggers
attackin'......
suddenly storm appears and starts improving
the place as if on command to the eternal delight of everyone
Suddenly, the front door bursts open as leaves and other debris
is blown thru the opening. Everyone's head turns. Through the
door strides a tall man dressed in a dark overcoat with an
expensive looking Stetson perched precariously on his head. He
slams the door shut, blocking out the turbulent winds and tips
his hat back and glances around. He slowly canters to the front
desk and says, "Name's Taliesin. Myddrin ap Taliesin. Got a room?"
suddenly, in a blinding flash of tense
confusion, the side doors burst open and an aardvark walked
through. he says softly, 'could we all learn consistency?'
before turning and striding into the kitchen, from which wafted
the odour of baked ants.
...a squall of Pirelli on pavement, a gentle waft of rubber smoke,
and the whine of a downshift to 7000 rpm are followed by a gentle
purring, whistling idle, which last the space of a full minute.
It's cessation precedes the solid-sounding opening and closing of
a massive, bright red door, and the satisfying clack of the lock.
A figure in black jumpsuit, driving gloves, and Greek fisherman's
cap pushes open the door, brushes a cluster of four leaves from
his left shoulder, and combs through his beard with the fingers
of his right hand...
Goliath,
never one to miss an oportunity swiftly mugs the valet.
Struggling into the tiny valet's clothes Goliath runs out the
door laughing madly. He jumps into the driver seat and slams the
roadracer in gear, leaving a gasping, sputtering TSO to watch as
his car dissappears over the horizon.
TT and Emmett watch this happen
with some amusement. They exchange "You knew they were crazy
down here" looks. Suddenly TT notices that there is green
glowing nuclear waste on the wall. "Oh frack," she comments,
"there goes that fly again! IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE HUMANS WHO ARE
IDIOTS!!" she hollars down. Hitting the emergency Nuclear Waste
disposal button, she jumps down into the plains of Ra. Emmett
has vanished and is nowhere to be seen. A loud siren begins its
incessant whine and between sound cycles a voice blares through
the speakers. "ALL CIVILIAN PERSONNEL PLEASE EVACUATE PREMISIS
IN AN ORDERLY FASHION. ALL MILITARY PERSONNEL REPORT TO THE
DIRECTOR'S OFFICE AND AWAIT INSTRUCTIONS AS TO HOW TO ASSIST."
having
recieved a Civil Defense "Mobilize you frigging couch potatoes!"
alert on his CB, Red hits two buttons on the dashboard of his
truck. One causes the (hidden) police lights and other
paraphernalia to rotate out into position and begin strobing
madly. The other powers up the hydraulic lifters and shoves a
clutchplate into position, which effectively renders the old
battered 1953 pickup into a dual-engine V12 performance 4x4...
which proceeds to burn massive amounts of rubber taking off after
the stolen Lamborghini... a tad slower, but that's not a problem.
Lamborghinis tend to... break down... in any given hour of
operation, so Red knows he'll run across the intrepid thief with
his thumb out, or attempting to BS a Triple-A operator into
getting him a tow for free on the cellular phone. Red thought
about actually USING his truck to help out in evacuation matters,
but chasing an Italian sports car is so much more fun....
A horrible looking creature is seen rising
from the waste. hello, it is Bill the Cat. Was a terrible
looking fellow.
The dark figure at the front desk takes his hat off and brushes
the dust and debris from it and replaces it atop his head. Slowly
looks around taking in the pandemonium of these surroundings.
Wearily, he raps on the front desk bell. "Hey! All I want to know
is, Do you got a room?"
A sickly looking old man pops up
behind the counter and leers at MaT. "Thee wishes a room, sir?"
he inquires with oily breath blasting MaT in the face. After
hacking his lungs out for a full three minutes, MaT replies that
he does indeed wish a room.
"Do you see any baggage? I travel light! Can't be havin' a load
of American Tourister tying me down. All I need now is a drink!
Which way to the lounge?" He looks down and sees a small chunk of
black lung mucus oozing down his jacket button. Disgusted, he
reaches over the counter, grabs the decrepid, old man by the
collar of his shirt and proceeds to wipe the dark gelatainous
substance from his coat. "You should give up smoking. It COULD be
hazardous to your health!", he growls through clenched teeth.
...shaking his head, The Silent Observer watches his personalized
plates vanish into the distance, followed by the soft, blue cloud
of smoke rising being Dorakeen's pickup...as the noise level dies,
the Observer reaches deep into the right thigh-pocket of his
jump-suit, and pulls out a small box with three buttons on it...
...he pushes the blue one first, but the soft "CLACK" of the
doors locking, un-openable without the proper thumbprint, is
completely lost in the distance and engine noise... ...second,
he presses the green button...and waits... ...after a few
seconds, a dot just above the horizon rapidly grows into the form
of a Countach, approaching at around 450 knots, and decelerating
into a full hover above the parking lot, before dropping slowly
to the pavement, Goliath struggling vainly with controls and door
latch... ...once the car has come to a complete rest, and
the dust kicked up by the lift jets has completely settled (along
with Goliath's hash), the Observer pushes the third button,
bright red. ...and picks up the largish briefcase that
results after the Lambo finishes it's compressing/folding/
implosion act... ...flicking idly at the ear protruding near
the right-hand latch, he walks back into the lobby of the Hotel,
saying softly "Obviously, Goliath, you never hung around the
Parking Lot of Hawkey's Bar with me, Ursus R. Bar, and Akira
Takasaki...or you'da KNOWN better..." (flick)(flick)
(flick)(flick)
"Hey" he
replies... "What the hell did you do that for? I thought you
wanted the bloody thing parked. I mean if you were going to get
Psycho about it, you should have asked where the parking lot was.
We don't do valet parking on the hotel grounds, so I was just
running it up the state to a place I know that does.... Say, you
owe me a tip."
how the
HELL did he do that??? I've been trying to get a repulsor-array
rtetrofit for this beast for months, and mr playboy waltzes in
with the George Jetson Special...
...just a little something that came with the briefcase mod...
...stepping into the lobby, the Observer opens the briefcase
(careully pinching the ear in the process), then unfolds the
result into an object about the size of a LONGISH car window...
applying his thumb (after removing his glove) to the pad at one
edge, the lowers the window (the ear snaps inside as soon as the
window begins to move) and allows Goliath to squeeze out, then
closes everything back up... "I thought you'd park it right
outside...but I think I'll carry my own luggage, just the same..."
As he sets the car/briefcase on the counter to sign the register,
a small brass plate by the handle can be read: "Nevia Ltd."
Red
scrambles madly for the phonebook, whipping out a Visa Diamond
Card and riffling the pages... "Netlog tech... Nell Carter Acting
Academy... where the %*(%^^&% is Nevia Ltd????"
The radiation has died down, the structure is still
standing, Bill has retired to doze in a corner and things are
back to normal at the Hotel Nevermind. Whoah! What are those
little black puff balls floating around the ceiling...and what is
that little tune playing faintly in the distance...like tinny
pipes...
nevermind,
I can track the parent company down, the old beast isn't THAT
archaic. shut up, Flowers, keep the editorial comments to when
we get going... sorry, she gets testy sometimes.
...if you DO find them, tell 'em I was VERY pleased with the
gravity polarization...I haven't seen hide nor hair since they
cashed my check...
i will...
oh, thanks for saying "check"... that reminds me to go start a
bank account NOW and transfer my funds into it at 8%... should be
able to pay my DiamondCard bill by the time (he hee) I get there...
...just remember to read the fine print in the deposit agreement...or you may find that your 8% funds have turned into some GOVERNMENT'S 8% investment...without their even having to put up the bux... ...happened to me once...didn't have a Thaler left to my name afterward...
I find that the company that handles The Restauraunt at the End of the Universe's billing accounts seems to do a decent job with such billing arrangements... Luther has been lounging on the couch with his pipe all this time. He gets up and decides to join Mr. Talesin for a pint of bitter and a good leer.
actually, I
deposit funds in this tiny little bank in switzerland that
finances certain third-world countries. seems to be doing QUITE
a profit since it got Saudi Arabia's account.
may I help you sir a kender runs up to red
and starts emptying reds pockets contents into his own
"Good lord, I thought we got
ri-er, lost all of them kender centuries ago!" Amazement, shock,
astonishment. All stare at the little person as Red chases him
around trying to get his stuff back.
finally
giving up on the actual exertion bit, red pulls a tiny flat
device out of his hat (the one place the kender couldn't reach.)
he presses two buttons in sequence while aiming it at the kender,
who promptly levitates off the floor, his legs and arms flailing.
red starts to rotate a flat disk on the control, and the kender
is reeled in like a caught fish, flailing all the way. Red
recovers his stuff, and then makes a casting motion with the
device; the kender goes sailing in an arc out the open front door
to land with a muffled "HEY!" in the shrubbery.... "T-K reel...
picked it up about five centuries up the road... useful to
anybody whose psi conditioning doesn't take very well lest they
need a bit of an edge in a contest. most models are highly
illegal to transport out, but these little jobs aren't cabaple of
lifing buses or anything and so the authorities don't much care
as long as you declare them at the appropriate checkpoints, which
I faithfully do. Wouldn't be a good thing, having my toys
confiscated" gestures toward the kender.
Luther quaffs his Guiness and saunters over to the kender. He
pulls out his pouch. The kender takes it. He takes the kender's,
and walks away. He then discovers a piece of string, a
scratched holodisk, a several ounce diamond, and a pack of Black
Jack gum. He keeps the gum.
Handing
Luther a package of peanuts, & three cans of beer, Merlin grabs
tight hold on Luther's jacket, pulls his hitchikers thumb (with
the green flashing light), and closing his eyes, gently presses
the button...
the kender is highly insulted and walks to
red who promptly pushes him back into the shrubbery
Nighthawk
finishes most of his coffee, then, removing a handkerchief, dabs
it in whats left of the coffee and procedes to clean one of his
swords.
swords, help the kender yells and runs into
more shrubbery
The kender
then wonders what he's doing in the shrubbery. There's a
resonant >whoop!< as the kender's hoopak sweeps the sword from
NightHawk's hands. Moments later, we see the kender back in the
shrubbery, his curious gaze covering every inch of the sword's
pommel and blade. "It's a pity someone left such a fine sword
laying around where just anyone could pick it up. Certainly, I
will take far better care of it than its previous owner!"
Kender have a concept of the word
"owner"?
what does owner mean
Owner.
Owner . . . I think that's always the person who last was holding
the thing - isn't it?
an "owner" is someone who belongs to
themself...
These great and dignified minds trying
to reason with the chaos of a Kender put the rest of us in awe.
"AAAAAWE!"
Luthor drops the several-ounce
diamond he found in the Kender's pouch in TaleTeller's hand and
strides outside to enjoy his pipe of fropp in peace.
The kender:
'my pouch?'
...carefully snapping the handcuff around my wrist, and the other
end around the handle of my briefcase, I tiptoe softly toward the
door... ...trying to think of a REALLY GOOD place to hide
this here key...
red hits yet another green glowing stud on the
flat black teke reel, and a pale blue bubble appears around him.
his hair is still buffeted by the slight wind, but when the
kender rushes him in a kleptomaniacal fit, he just... bounces off...
"sorry, old bean, had to do SOMETHING about that propensity of
yours to... approprate things...." the kender, disgusted,
decides to find more willing targets, and nonchalantly lifts the
keys to the basement out of the porter's left hand...
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