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Old 02-29-2004, 04:14 PM   #136
Diamond18
Eidolon of a Took
 
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Join Date: Sep 2002
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Shield

The CalamityJaneShip followed Merisu dutifully, or dotifully, or deviously, depending on whose psyche you happened to be delving into at the moment.

Vogonwë was feeling dutiful. He was not exactly looking forward to the GAP, as he sensed a great and rather painful dispense of money was in his future. But Pimpi's eyes were glowing with expectation, and Merisu had that glazed over look of one who has just received divine directions. Far be it from him to complain about divine directions, especially since it alliterated so nicely.

As they road southwestward Pimpi chattered contently on about the amazing rescue of Orogarn Two, near death of Merisu, Earnur's decimation of the Slíd Hourns, and basically everything else that had gone on whilst he had been away—the fascinating, the interesting, and the excruciatingly boring. Vogonwë dutifully said "mm-hm", "oh my", "is that so", and other inanities in all the right places. He found these times when Pimpi felt like conversing to be excellent opportunities for composing poetry. At the end of the ride he would have four new epics to write out: "The Lay of the Extreme Makeover", "The Ravaging of the Trees", "Dirge for a Whirling Zerlish", and "When Elven Eyes Are Glazéd".

After an indeterminate time spent riding, camping, eating, conversing, composing, sleeping, and killing hapless passersby (as was their wont, you cannot deny) the Itship finally reached the fabled GAP of Soreham. It was evening, and as they squinted into the west they saw strip mall of indeterminate length stretching out before them. As the sun dipped below yon bonny horizon, a myriad of torchlights popped on to illuminate the spread of glitzy shops, boutiques, showrooms, outlets, warehouses, restaurants, and liquor stores.

"Behold, the walls of GAP-o'-Doom," intoned the Gateskeeper majestically. The he added, in a more normal, squeaky tone, "Or so those who have maxed out their crédìtkârdhs here have deemed it."

The Incorrigibleship laughed. They had been through the Glitzy Caverns and come out no worse for wear (though the same cannot be said of the Caverns) and they feared no poncy Sorehamish strip mall. Vogonwë's laugh trembled slightly, and Orogarn Two moved a hand over his newly reclaimed wallet, but otherwise the mood was light and carefree.

"Right," said Merisu. She nodded to Pimpi, "I shall now instruct you in the favorite pastime activity of a proper shieldmaiden, Pimpiowyn. When we spurt out the other side of that strip, you shall be a first class Shopping Girl Extraordinaire."

"So shall I," sighed Vogonwë, wishing for a moment that Pimpi was not a penniless orphan and that he had spent more time in his youth buttering up his father so that he would have a sufficient trust fund (instead of subsisting on the meager wages of a lower-level employee at the now debunked Daily Floss). "If we ever get to the western extremities of Muddled Mirth I shall be forced to sell seashells by the seashore to sustain my sweetheart's spending sprees. And that's only if we ever get out of Soreham...."

He was ignored by the pair of excited females, and laughed at by the males who had no sweetheart to spend their trust funds on (except for Chrysi, who began to weep and beat his tail against the ground). Vogonwë in turn ignored them, and began to contemplate the first few lines of his next masterpiece, "Lament for a Decimated Coin Purse"; which actually turned out to be one of the better poems he had ever written, simply for the real and poignant emotions expressed over the loss of several dear friends.

Last edited by Diamond18; 02-29-2004 at 04:19 PM.
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