The Hobwit

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Post by halfwise on Thu Sep 26, 2019 1:49 pm

It's a rather dirge-like procession, wouldn't you say?  She's clearly unhappy you chose to continue the saga. I think you should molest her with more of it.

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Post by azriel on Thu Sep 26, 2019 8:28 pm

What ? Im going to be molested !! Look, bouncing balls meant I was happy Smile HAPPY you wally Smile

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Post by Orwell on Thu Sep 26, 2019 10:10 pm

Mmmm....was I looking for depth and subtlety where I should have been looking for bouncing? Sorry, fellows and girlies, must have been tired when I posted. Thick, you know.

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Post by The Archet Bugle on Wed Jan 08, 2020 9:34 pm

Chapter 9...continued....


The dungeons, once found, were something of a surprise. Bango was out exploring the palace in the hope finding out where the midgets were when he found a passageway in the bowels of the mountain...

Oh is that the time? Well, off to bed...i’ll tell you more next story time...


...to be continued...
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Post by halfwise on Wed Jan 08, 2020 9:45 pm

Evil or Very Mad

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Post by The Archet Bugle on Wed Jan 08, 2020 11:02 pm

Chapter 9...continued...

Well, it only seems an hour has past, but if you are here and I am here, then I guess all nine of us are here; though why we had two sets of quadruplets I may never know, and not a one of you who resembles my side of the family. Anyway..

Bango had almost given up hope of finding the midgets, but he did, which is why he did not end up living forever after under the mountain all invisible and sneaky. The good news, of course, was that Bango had equalised in the bowel department, and further was thinner and healthier, though, as is the trend of those thrust from obesity to rosy good health, become incredibly judgmental of any fairy that looked a touch thicker than they were thin. Indeed, Bango felt thinner than thin, like he was a mere shadow of himself, an invisible shadow at that. Indeed, he felt like cream spread incredibly thinly on a lean calorie scone: that’s fat free cream, possibly tofu or some other unnatural but healthy produce.

Deep down in the subterranean parts, after slipping by a sleeping fairy at the head of stairs which he quickly descended, Bango found a passage with rows of doors on each side. The first one he came to had a sign above it that said Apartment 1, Basement Level 3. Peeping through a glass panel, he saw Snodgrass sitting comfortably in an armchair reading a copy of the Fairy Times (on papyrus) in the light of a skylight which had been magnificently fashioned by the Fairies of Yore to bring down light from a tower on the top of the mountain.

Remembering to take off his magic bangle, Bango tapped secretively on the glass panel, Snodgrass looked across at him and frowned, and then as if wearied by the mere sight of him, abstractedly pushed a button on the armrest of his armchair. The door swung silently open.

“T’was time you got here, Bango,” saith Snodgrass, resorting to the faux-archaic. “Took your damn time getting here, you arsewipe,” added he, somewhat now resorting to the post modern.

Bango was immediately annoyed. “Well, you know I’ve had a hell of time finding you. This place has more nooks and crannies than a place with just as many nooks and crannies - and I mean ‘a lot!’”

“Well, with your magic bangle of invisibility it was probably a doddle,” Snodgrass voiced dismissively. “So don’t get up on your high pony about it.”

Now, Bango was totally surprised by that. ‘Wha...who....huh?”

“Don’t spittle splatter! We worked it out in the end. We put two and two together, then subtracted three, and summed up at one magic bangle. It was the only way we could explain it, certain peculiar things that have happened on our quest involving you, but I’m not going to try and explain the mathematics now. We’ll go and meet the others in the games parlour. That’s the only equation I’m interested in now. I have been cooped up in this rotten dungeon for far too long as it is.”

Bango, quickly getting over the shock at his secret being de-secreted, and what’s more with barely any subtext or background, found something to be annoyed about instead. “You call this a dungeon! A vanity unit. A chest of drawers and coat hook! A coffee maker operated by pet mice running inside a wheel and creating some kind of magical force* to make it bubble! Even a f#*&@ skylight! You call this a ‘dungeon’!”

“It is the deprivation of one’s liberty that matters here, Bango,” Snodrass intoned on his dignity. “All the rest is just gold dust thrown on the floor of a gilded cage, the plumbing and sanitation an ironic twist, the heathy vegetatarian diet a pure insult and travesty, even if kindly meant. You have no idea how I have suffered. You know, I’ve lost three stone! Not an ounce a fat! No fat! I am only half the midget I once was, so don’t go minimising my anguish. Anyway, let’s go. It’s morning tea, even its only mint and chamomile and dietary wafers.”

“But...”

“Shut up! The others will be keen to abuse you too! Mr Tardy! Come along now!”

And with that, Snodgrass led the way with purposeful step down the passage, collecting the other midgets along the way. They all seemed not so pleased to see him, judging by the supercilious glances they sent down their noses at him; save for Bwalin, who cast him an amiable glance of remonstrative kindness, and Biffo, whose glance had a slightly hungry look, like he missed beef or something...


To be continued...


*electricity, had he but known it.


Last edited by The Archet Bugle on Thu Jan 09, 2020 1:26 am; edited 3 times in total
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Post by Mrs Figg on Thu Jan 09, 2020 12:22 am

arsewipe is definitely post-modern Nod  it might even be post-post-modern

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Post by halfwise on Thu Jan 09, 2020 3:22 am

Actually I would not be surprised if arsewipe as a concept applied to one's fellows is nearly as old as humanity.

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Post by Orwell on Thu Jan 09, 2020 3:50 am

halfwise wrote:Actually I would not be surprised if arsewipe as a concept applied to one's fellows is nearly as old as humanity.

This is an old, old tale, older even than the original areswipes of the 11th century, Halfy. You know the ones who shot King Harold in the eye. Just so you don’t think ol’ Anon would ever be in any way or sense anachronistic. 😎

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Post by azriel on Thu Jan 09, 2020 9:52 am

Did not the Romans have arsewipes ? Kindly shared along the line ( and a long line too pale ) only to be fresh aired, in the fresh air, to be sent down the line all over again Very Happy

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Post by azriel on Thu Jan 09, 2020 9:54 am

By the by, Love this story. First thing on a dreary wintery morning, cup of tea and watching the Bin boys going by to collect the bins Smile

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Post by Pettytyrant101 on Thu Jan 09, 2020 3:55 pm

{{ I'm with Snodgrass! Only healthy food to eat?! No buckie? Your tale has moved me Anon! I can feel the suffering! Crying or Very sad }}}

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Post by Orwell on Thu Jan 09, 2020 8:39 pm

The tale has taken a decidedly tragic turn, I agree...

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