May 3, 2010

All you poo-named Ogres look the same to me

One of the more inebriated fairies, still attempting to recover from last night's adventure, approaches Tribby, thinking she is poo nose, and notes that he's never been to homeplace before.

"Heeeeey poooo NOOOSE!" The fairy drawled.

(It should be noted that, while stumbling and bumping into things would be an appropriate thing to mention, its a flying creature - so instead, imagine a fly with half of its body recently sprayed in hairspray, and gradually, as it hardened, slowly losing altitude, but then, suddenly, gaining a burst of energy, and raising upwards again, only then to be slowly overtaken by the liquid concrete yet again.)

Tribby seeing her opportunity to deceive the fairies quickly accessed her amazing acting skills which she had learned in the ancient Notreallyaplace Mountains from a self proclaimed master of disguise and misdirection.  So cunning was this fellow that he could convince rocks not to land on him, in the time it took them to fall to the ground.  His price had been high.  Daily sex, rubdowns and coins, plus she had to do errands for him every now and then, like pick up his socks from the leathersmithcleaners.  (he had leather socks)

"Uhh... yeeeEeah..." Tribby attempted, then, quickly followed up with "I'm totally Poonose...  hooooows it..." and, after a brief moment, "gooooo-ing?"

It occurred to her that the ancient teacher might have just been an old scab of a boyfriend with one of those Groucho Marx fake noses on, and that she simply hadn't been too astute at the time.
How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

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