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Hookbill the Goomba · 08-19-2006, 02:35 PM

"Follow me, old bean," said the quivering Barrow Wight as he dragged Smilog out of the conference chamber. Tollin followed along to see what the fuss was about. "It's right over there!" the Wight waved out of the window and hid his eyes. "It's jolly horrible!"

"What," said Smilog, "the curtains?"

"No!" shouted the Barrow Wight, "there! That thing! I'll tell you what it is!" Smilog yawned and sat down as the ghostly skeleton said, in a deep and haunting voice, "Small Jim!" Smilog rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, old spice! Maybe that mumbling old fool was right about the blue wizards."

"Oh shut up." said the dwarf, "small Jim was built as a monument to annoy all the conspiracy theorists. I should know! I commissioned it. And there are no elaborate plans for a great uncloaking hidden under the floor boards."

The Barrow Wight sighed and lent against the wall before following the others back to the conference room. Smilog made a small diversion to visit the toilet. He passed through a door while the other two waited outside. They spoke of things past and present as well as what may yet to be. Or, rather, they speculated about how long they had left on that accursed Mountain of DOOM!

Time passed. And passed. It was nearly half an hour since Smilog vanished behind the door. Tollin arose and pushed open the door before he heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. "You are not going to believe this!" they turned around to see Smilog covered in slime and beaming.

"What happen?" asked Tollin, "did you fall into the toilet?"

"No, you imbecile!" snapped the Dwarf before a swift swing of Tollin's morning star corrected him. "Anyway," he continued, "there is a tiny door in there that leads inside of Gandalf Mithrandir!" The others looked at him puzzled. "It's true! You go in and you see through his eyes for about fifteen minuets before your spat out at a round about near Small Jim!"

"Who's Gandalf Mithrandir?" asked Tollin,

"Oh," replied Smilog, "he's this istari, but a good one."

"Perhaps he can deal with those blue blighters," suggested the Barrow Wight.

"No chance," replied the Dwarf, "he's in Valinor."

"Oh well," hummed Tollin, "we'd better get back."

"But-" began Smilog trying to bring himself to think of a convincing argument, but ultimately failing and saying, "Okay, lets go."

08-19-2006, 02:35 PM	#190
Hookbill the Goomba Alive without breath Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: On A Cold Wind To Valhalla Posts: 6,153	"Follow me, old bean," said the quivering Barrow Wight as he dragged Smilog out of the conference chamber. Tollin followed along to see what the fuss was about. "It's right over there!" the Wight waved out of the window and hid his eyes. "It's jolly horrible!" "What," said Smilog, "the curtains?" "No!" shouted the Barrow Wight, "there! That thing! I'll tell you what it is!" Smilog yawned and sat down as the ghostly skeleton said, in a deep and haunting voice, "Small Jim!" Smilog rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, old spice! Maybe that mumbling old fool was right about the blue wizards." "Oh shut up." said the dwarf, "small Jim was built as a monument to annoy all the conspiracy theorists. I should know! I commissioned it. And there are no elaborate plans for a great uncloaking hidden under the floor boards." The Barrow Wight sighed and lent against the wall before following the others back to the conference room. Smilog made a small diversion to visit the toilet. He passed through a door while the other two waited outside. They spoke of things past and present as well as what may yet to be. Or, rather, they speculated about how long they had left on that accursed Mountain of DOOM! Time passed. And passed. It was nearly half an hour since Smilog vanished behind the door. Tollin arose and pushed open the door before he heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. "You are not going to believe this!" they turned around to see Smilog covered in slime and beaming. "What happen?" asked Tollin, "did you fall into the toilet?" "No, you imbecile!" snapped the Dwarf before a swift swing of Tollin's morning star corrected him. "Anyway," he continued, "there is a tiny door in there that leads inside of Gandalf Mithrandir!" The others looked at him puzzled. "It's true! You go in and you see through his eyes for about fifteen minuets before your spat out at a round about near Small Jim!" "Who's Gandalf Mithrandir?" asked Tollin, "Oh," replied Smilog, "he's this istari, but a good one." "Perhaps he can deal with those blue blighters," suggested the Barrow Wight. "No chance," replied the Dwarf, "he's in Valinor." "Oh well," hummed Tollin, "we'd better get back." "But-" began Smilog trying to bring himself to think of a convincing argument, but ultimately failing and saying, "Okay, lets go."