Gamba jumped and laughed and cheered and danced in the aisle as Mith bit into the golden apple. He waited for a smile, a laugh, a joke. But nothing. Mith stood stock-still.
And then he keeled over.
It took only a half-second for the blame to be placed in Gamba's mind. It had to be that elf. That shady, sneaky, conniving, rope-tying, I-knew-it-all-along-it-was-that-rotten-ELF.
He was already in the aisle. It took him mere seconds to reach the stage, and launch himself at Piosenniel, shrilly howling "Vengeance! Vengeance! MURDER!"
LinGalad, open-mouthed, watched him go, and belatedly stood and ran after him. The audience erupted in bedlam.
[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.
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