Saturday, May 12, 2012

Type Me Out!

The cave was large and barely lit by the power of a smallish, crackling wood fire whose smoke was magically disappearing as it rose. It appeared a gray sand beach bordered by a black, glinting ocean, the waters rippling around the form of a chunky, humanesque body topped by a shining round head. On the shore stood a ridiculously tall, amazingly thin creature of unknown origin, though it had claimed already to be an elf.

"NO WAY! Elves aren't from outer space! At least that's not what old Mister Tolkien says!" Britta was flailing her hands so expressively she splashed a little water on her incredibly tall companion.

"Now see what you've done?" Hookahdar shouted as he leaped backward, away from the pool. "You've water spotted my lambskin slippers; now I'll have to dry them by the fire!"

"Mmmm, lambskin" Britta thought; "I knew I smelled sheep, I gotta have them shoes!" But in spite of her growing lust, her eyes twitching a bit and her salivation reaching the drool stage, Britta Fishstomper, aquatic Dwarven princess, kept her cool. There would come the right moment, and then the woolies would be hers! She stood waist deep in the cave's pond keeping her toes nice and wrinkly, and bit her tongue as the elf removed his footwear and propped them on a stone near their tiny campfire. She nearly fainted as the fantasy image of herself wearing a fluffy new cap while being caressed by a fluffy new halter top burned its way through her erogenous zones.

"Once again your folliclelessness" Hook said as he ran his spread fingers through his incredibly thick, black mane of hair; "we dark elves are from the planet Darkelvnia. How the hell do you think we got the name? And don't mention that Tolkien freak again or I'll make you read all 2 thousand pages of that pompous drivel!"

"I thought you were a Black Elf" Britta complained, obviously confused.

The mildly altered elf snorted "We prefer Dark Elf now, and if we feel like changing it again we will, with or without your permission, or anyone elses for that matter!"

"Well, you're certainly skinny enough to be an elf" Britta replied while absentmindedly rubbing her bald, reddening pate with heavily scarred, battleworn hands; "I keep thinking you're a dead tree covered in Spanish moss, it scares me when you start talking." The princess grinned a moment to celebrate her counter thrust. "But lordy, you're way too tall! I kilt an el...err, I knew an elf once and he was a little feller just a squoonch taller than me! And his eyes were bluer than robin's eggs; while yours are as green as baby dwarf spitup! Tell the truth now sir, what are you really, an anorexic Troll?"

Hookahdar stood in anger and stepped toward the little princess, but in his haste, his first stride landed atop the campfire. After far too much wailing in the most vulgar alien street lingo, the elf sat near the water's edge and gingerly set his roasted flesh into the cool liquid.

"You can't be a dwarf" Hook said at last, once both his rage and his foot were slightly chilled; "dwarven women are hairy little creatures and you're as bald as a baby gollum's butt! Though you are short and fat enough I must say. If you're a dwarven princess as you claim, where's your whiskers dearie?"

"Under my arms and on my back stick boy, and where's your pointy little ears might I ask?"

"I left em in my other wig stumpy. Say, if you're an aquatic dwarf you must be able to swim!" Hookahdar scrambled upright and then dropped to his knees adding yet another open wound to his legs and knees scar collection, grabbed little Britta by the head and pushed her underwater; but the girl wriggled away and emerged from the pool a few feet to the west, limping quickly on her wrinkled feet toward the still burning campfire. It seemed to be the aforementioned "right moment".

"I shall have your shoes, mongrel!" She screamed dwarven curse through her gills as she reached her target and zipped the right slipper over her head. "Mmmmm warmmmmmm" she hummed as her opponent the giant elf reared his ugly yet perfectly coifed head and stared menacingly at the clodhopper clad contralto.

"I paid dearly for those things madam, if you want them you'll have to cough up something in trade. We dark elves do not do gifts! Especially not to sworn enemies! Now give me those boots at once you eye twitching, lamb loving daughter of a...."

"Now, now children, behave." Both Hook and Britta stopped and gaped at the newcomer who had just entered through a side tunnel and stood near the fire. It looked like a brown haired human toddler, but was as tall as a grown man. He was thick, square, as if his body had form fitted to a refrigerator box, or perhaps his father had been a 1950's television robot, and his mother, a steamer trunk. If it wasn't for his grandiose and exceedingly upturned nose, he might have been attractive, to someone. But as it was he was nearly as homely as princess Fishstomper, though it was certain he had a keen sense of smell.

"And who are you!" Both combatants took up a new defensive posture aiming toward the stranger stranger, and called out their challenge in unison. "Identify yourself at once!"

"Abraham Lincoln" the child said, his eyes glowing mysteriously.

"Try again Pinnochio, you take us for fools?" Britta was glad she'd recently re-read her favorite fairy tales so as to have veiled references she might hurl at her enemies.

"Ok, I give. I'm Eleanor Rigby!"

Hookahdar giggled in spite of the creepy feeling that was creepily creeping through his gut. "Sure mate, and I'm a Blue Meany. Now fess up or I'll run you through!"

"You don't scare me sir! Why, you're wearing Prince's underwear!"

It was true. Around Hookahdar's waist was an elastic band on which was written "Property of the Artist Formerly Known as Prince", and below the band draped a purple cloth which barely covered the elf's nether nimblies.

"How the hell did I get these? I hate purple!" Hook was livid, nearly turning purple himself, risking a serious bout of self loathing. "I wake up this morning and find myself here wearing nothing but a huge birthmark on my behind, and now I'm in a half pint, whacky singer's under skirt?"

The huge child laughed and then turned somber, once again flashing his exotic eyes in the direction of Britta, who twitched hers in response. "How do you think I feel? You know why I wasn't here from the beginning? I was spending the afternoon shopping for Happy Easter cards with an angel. I'm a freakin demon for Satan's sake, you know how sick I've been all day?"

"Hey kid" Britta said at last;"what are those scars on your feet?"

"Never mind that now" replied the kid; "We've gotta figure out what's happening to us before something really bad happens!"

The cave fell silent for some time. Only the snapping of the fire was heard, and even that was muted by the obscuring aura of heavy thinking. Suddenly, Hookahdar's green eyes opened wide and he near shouted "I've got it! It's him!"


As he swung around and pointed at me I nearly fell off my chair and had to grab the keyboard before I knocked over my soda and chips. Once I'd recovered my balance and had turned back toward the monitor I found they were all there, glaring at me, each with a weapon and each tapping the business end of their instruments into their free hands. For a long long time we just looked at each other, gauging each others' strengths and weaknesses, waiting for an opening. I moved my hands toward the keyboard but Britta leaned through the glass and raised her axe, before signalling me with twitching eyebrows that to type could spell my doom.

"Ok" I said at last; "What is it you guys want?"

"Hair mister, gimme some hair... ON my HEAD this time " Britta sneered.

"I want to be regular sized" said Hookahdar, "like the elves in World of Warcraft. And I want some real Elfie clothes. Get rid of this purple diaper damn you!"

"Speaking of diapers" the kid spat, flashing his blinky winkies at me, "let's have some pants from the Gap bub, and a nice Egyptian cotton shirt and Italian shoes. And how 'bout a fine chick and a Cuban cigar and a wide screen TV with high def!"

"And about my name" Hook interrupted; "find me one that shows more respect or I'll write myself into your bedroom tonight and poke your eyes out!"

"And make me skinny" Britta added. "I'm a princess, I don't have time for following diets! And cut the devastation crap, I demand eternal happiness!"

"And on and on they went, making demand after demand until I was driven quite insane from jotting it all down. I only tell you this story because the guards have forgotten to check and see if I've swallowed my meds... and I hadn't. I feel I can trust you Nurse Neke. Please, you have to help me!"

"And what would you like me to do about it?" The pretty young nurse seemed sympathetic to my plight. She could turn my life around if she would only do this one thing for me, she could save me from myself, and all the others that take up space in my skull!

"Find a computer, go to my journal" I said as I slipped her the address and username/password combination to ‘Road to Donnickcottage’; "Then find these three characters and delete them! Hell, delete the whole story, it's too damn long anyway, I'm sure no one's even read it! Certainly no one will miss it. Hurry Please!"

The girl only nodded and turned to go, I felt relief, yet it was short lived! As she opened the door to my asylum cell, there stood Britta, Hook and the Kid, decked out like gazillionaire fiction writers. As Nurse Neke passed the group, she handed my information ticket to a cigar chomping, baby face man of considerable size.

"Thanks for the key Mister Blabby" he called out as the four of them broke out laughing. "We'll let you know how we do with your friend's list!"

And as they shut the door, the lights went out. I could only scream, silently. I can hardly type at all, I sure as hell can't type in the dark!

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