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Tales From Beyond The Enchanted Prong Hills

The Battle Of The Fluffy Clouds


Page 4


The tavern descended into silence once more as the patrons contemplated the stranger's plaintive words.
Suddenly, a dwarf cried out from the bar, "The Iggers!"
"Yeah, the fucking Iggers!" bawled someone else.
"They ripped their spleens out!"
"Kill 'em!"
"Kill 'em all!"
"Death to the Iggers!"
The stranger smiled.
The cut throat sighed.
"Look, we've been through all this before," he said in exasperation, "We've not been able to attack Ig since they started the day and night hamster patrols. Those rodents are lethal."
"Not against," the stranger began, "amphibians."
"Amphibians?" exclaimed the cut throat, "What amphibians could take on those hamsters?"
"No toads would stand a chance against the Ig hamsters!"
"Mine would," smiled the stranger, "if you were to toss them."
The crowd gasped in horror.
"But toad tossing's illegal!"
"Illegal, pah!" scoffed the stranger, "Two minutes ago you were all for ripping my organs out in the order of your choice."
"Yeah, well, that's different."
"What would you say," began the stranger, "if I were to offer you a way of totally eradicating the village of Ig?"
"I'd say introduce yourself," said the cut throat,
"I'm tired of the author referring to us as the stranger and the cut throat.
My name is Colin and I'm not even a cut throat anyway. I'm a pond leveller."*
"Yeah, you're right," said the stranger, "It's glaringly obvious to the readers who I am so you may as well know. I'm Rostrum and I'm a Toa . . . a missionary!"
"And what is your mission, Rostrum?"
"The complete," Rostrum replied slowly and deliberately, "and utter," he paused for effect, "annihilation," he continued, "of that loathsome cess pool of the foullest effluent ever to be discharged by rectal extrusion of man or beast - Ig!" he concluded triumphantly.
The applause was rapturous, the cheering tumultuous. Tankards were banged rhythmically on the tables and chants of "Death to Ig!" resounded throughout the entire tavern. It was all too easy. There was not one man in the tavern that was not ready for conversion to The Faith.
Well, there was one. Unbeknownst to anybody a frog frigger had been sitting quietly in a corner, not taking any part in any of the activities surrounding the new messiah, just observing. During this frenzy he got up from his seat, left the tavern and set off in the direction of Ig, never to be seen again for he was never seen in the first place.

*Pond levelling is an ancient and mystical craft. Its importance can be appreciated by considering the consequences of a pond with an unlevel surface - all the ducks tend to slide to one end. The most common cause of this is numerous small pieces of bread which are cast into a pond by children or courting couples the weight of which pushes that end of the pond down a little causing a slight incline on the whole surface. A pond leveller may compensate for this by distributing just the right amount of bread at other strategic parts of the pond. Other methods can be more drastic. Around the month of May there is often a large increase in the numbers of children and courting couples which congregate around ponds causing major disruption to the surface. At this time of year a certain number of them have to be culled.

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The Battle Of The Fluffy Clouds
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