The Fellowship
of the Bring is surrounded by sheep which they can’t move out of
the way because of the 35th Really Good
Idea.
“We have more problems,” said Lip Ton Tease, returning from his
shower entirely dry if not sweet smelling. “The sheep upstream are
urinating in the water.”
“This is all your fault heretic!”
“No, Uriculous” I said, “It’s yours.”
“Look,” said Lustavious. “I’m the Light Bringer which means
I can arbitrate fairly. It’s that bird’s fault. Let’s kill
it.”
“Catch me,” said Swampy taking flight and showing a remarkable
bowel capacity by the number of passes he was able to make crapping
on Lustavious. Lustavious thrust his finger into the air above his
head, his index finger impressively alight. Swampy farted into the
light and singed a few of Lustavious’ upper locks.
“This pitter patter won’t swoosh us from bah-bahs,” said Ono.
“I can’t sunbeam travel without a pristine shower,” said Tease.
Everybody looked at me.
“Look,” I said, “we could just push the sheep aside.”
“Sacrilege!” bellowed Akwar, who I thought had left.
“I’m already condemned,” I said. “I could do it.”
“Never!” harangued Akwar, who only harangued because she had
already bellowed earlier, and she needed to break it up a bit.
“Find another way, Destroyer,” said Jonma Claim.
“I don’t know,” I said. “We could try to make a tunnel.”
“I can dig,” said Jonma Carry who had been silent and immobile
since the night before. “I’m very good at throwing dirt.”
It wasn’t a boast. Jonma Carry was very good at throwing dirt.
The only problem was that the dirt seemed to land on people –
especially Jonma Claim, who spluttered and spasmed, and looked around
furiously for a third appropriate reaction beyond spluttering and
spasming.
“You could try snorting,” said Mage-e-not, who then disappeared
from the collar up after receiving a particularly disdainful glare.
“Glaring is good,” I offered. I didn’t get a sputter, spasm,
glare or snort for my suggestion. He saved his big ammo – his look
of derision, for me.
Two people stayed clean throughout the astonishing excavation. Lip
Ton Tease moved with dizzying speed, avoiding not only clumps, but
even specks of dirt as they flew from the tunnel. At one point, he
took out a fan, and by gently manipulating the wind currents, created
a clean hole in our increasingly muddy atmosphere, in which he stood
with serenity, and just a bit of monkish smugness.
Ono also stayed clean, entirely due to the efforts of Swampy, who
showed a remarkable athleticism smashing dirt clumps with his wings,
and redirecting them to Lustavious.
Akwar appeared one more time, received an impressively muddy deluge,
and disappeared. After that, I didn’t mind so much getting dirty.
I think Mage-e-not felt the same.
Jonma Carry dug deep into the earth, pausing only occasionally to ask
us to call him Jon. A tunnel five paces wide and hundreds of paces
deep formed, slanting down into the earth and under the surrounding
sheep army.
I went out to observe our besiegers. Just as Tease had said, they
stood in ranks, surrounding our little wood. Each beast stared in
our direction, not a single one of them flinched or shifted.
I had to agree with Lustavious. It was very unsheep-like.
“Destroyer!” shouted Jonma Claim. “We are leaving.”
“Is Jon all the way through?” I asked.
“No, but he has encountered someone we must speak to. We will all
stay together.”
Encountered someone? “Coming,” I said.
Chapter Non-Ten
The Nature of Satire
Headley here. I know it’s bad form to interrupt the flow of the
story, but I just want to make certain that you all remember that
this book is satire. That means I can make fun of ANYONE – even
Barry Manilow if I want (but who would dare?) and lawyers can’t
touch me.
Lawyers can’t touch me.
Lawyers can’t touch me.
Lawyers can’t touch me.
Lawyers can’t touch me.
I learned this trick from politicians. It’s called the BIG LIE.
If you want to tell a fib, no repetition is necessary. If you want
to tell something that is patently unjust or untrue, say it over and
over again, and presto… it’s true!
And we wonder why people don’t trust politicians.
Why aren’t these BIG LIES exposed? Refer to the The Use of
Satire by Headley Hauser. Go to Chapter 13, The BIG LIE
subsection NM (for News Media.)
Lawyers can’t touch me. (Times infinity plus infinity times
infinity to the power of infinity plus thirty-seven.) (As in
thirty-seven really good ideas.)
So now that the
spasm of disclaimer is over we can discover who Jonma Carry, who
prefers to be called Jon, discovered in a big hole in the ground.
But of course, we’ll have to wait till next Friday.
Scary.
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