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Old 08-11-2004, 11:12 PM   #198
Thenamir
Spectre of Capitalism
 
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Join Date: May 2001
Location: Battling evil bureaucrats at Zeta Aquilae
Posts: 990
Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!Thenamir has reached the Cracks of Doom and destroyed the Ring!
"Cabbage and coconuts!" Sauerkraut hissed, and they shuddered at the hideous change, as well as the disgusting culinary combo. "What is the house of Vinaigrettiel but a wretched cafeteria where pointy-eared waiters sing silly 'fa la la lally' tunes and serve wilted greens soaked over with sour wine? Too long have they escaped the giblets themselves. But the cook comes, slow in the simmering, blackened and hard in the end. Fry if you will!" Now his voice changed, as he slowly mastered himself. "I know not why I have had the patience to speak to you. For I knead not your breas...er, bread, nor your little band of doughboys, as swift to fall as to rise, Merisuwyniel Shieldmeddler. I offered you a feast beyond your palate and your wit. I have offered it again, so that those whom you mislead may clearly see the choice of meals.

"But you, Gateskeeper! How comes it that you can endure such company? For you are proud, noble Andotiruves-and not without reason, having indeed powerful processors and webcams that look both deep and far. Even now will you not upgrade to my operating system? When you were at Dorktank I bore you no ill-will; and even now I bear none, though you return to me in the company of the unsober and the rhyme-challenged. How should I? Are we not both writers of a high and ancient program, most Excel-ent in Muddled-Mirth? Our partnership would profit us both alike. Much we could still execute together, to defragment the sundered ents of the world. Let us reformat our friendship with one another, and erase from memory these lesser folk! Let them wait on our release schedules! For the common good I am willing to delete the past, and to receive you. Will you not consult with me?"

So great was the power that Sauerkraut exerted in this last effort that none that stood within hearing were unmoved, especially those under his spell who drew the circle around the Hopeless-ship ever tighter. But now the recipe was wholly different. They heard the gentle remonstrance of a kindly CIO with an erring but much-loved tech-assistant dweeb. But they were shut out, listening at a door to words not meant for them:common users or stupid gamers overhearing the elusive discourse of true techies, and wondering how it would affect their response times. It was inevitable that they should make a merger. Gateskeeper would meet Sauerkraut in the inn, to discuss low-level programming tweaks beyond their comprehension in the Mayor's suite of The Ivy Bush. The door would be closed, and they would be left outside, dismissed to await meager customer support. Even in the feminine yet practical mind of Merisuwyniel the thought took shape, like eye-shadow of doubt: "He will betray us; he will go - we shall be offlined."

Then Gateskeeper belched. The fantasy vanished like a cheap computer warranty.

"Sauerkraut, Sauerkraut!" said Gateskeeper, who had been lazily sampling some of the hotdog salesman's garnish during his monologue, and was now picking pickled cabbage shreds from his teeth. "I hate it when that stuff gets stuck between my molars. I fear I am beyond your computation, Sparkey. When last I visited you, you were the cable-guy of Moredough. Nay, the employee who has escaped from the roof with a golden parachute will think twice before he comes back to the same franchise by the door. Dorka-Cola has proved less market share than your hope and fancy made it. So may other things in which you still have trust. Would it not be well to leave them for a while? To turn to new things, perhaps? Think well, Sauerkraut! Will you not shut down this sleazy hotdog operation, and return the Entish Thighs so that the Ent That Was Broken may yet be made whole?"

A shadow passed over Sauerkraut's face; then it went deathly white. Before he could conceal it, they saw through the mask the anguish of a mind in doubt, loathing to stay and dreading to leave its restauranteurship. For a second he hesitated, and no one breathed. Then he spoke, and his voice was shrill and cold. Pride and hate were conquering him. Besides, he still had almost the entire populations of two towns on his side. "I have other things to do," sneered the old man in white, "so if you wish to treat with me, while you have a chance, leave behind these ding-dongs and twinkies that dangle at your tail! Good day!' He turned and mounted the no-longer-disguised hyena cart and took up the reins.

'I did not give you leave to go,' said Gateskeeper sternly.. 'I have not finished. You have become a fool, Sauerkraut, and yet pitiable. You might still have turned away from relish and onions, and have been of service. Behold, I am not Gateskeeper, whom you fired...wait, I am Gateskeeper whom you fired. But I am also Gateskeeper the Window-maker, Gateskeeper the Conqueror, soon to be lord of the lands of the Eunuchs on the shores of the Pea Sea!" Then, calling upon the power delegated to him by the Lord of the Fell Tower Block of Barat-Hom, the Clozhd-dheal, he cried out, "Sauerkraut, your staff is broken!" There was a crack, and the staff split asunder in Sauerkraut's hand. But rather than cowering in fear, after a moment's surprise Sauerkraut merely chuckled. No change had come over the dazed but obedient faces of the surrounding zombies. The Eyes-wide-shut-ship blinked almost in unison upon the realization that Gatekeeper had been a second-rate wizard in their midst all along. But explanations would have to wait for a less pressing moment.

‘Grimy! Grimy!’ Sauerkraut called; and out from under the cover in the wagon came Grimy Hasbeen, crawling, almost like a dog, holding something that looked rather like a scrawny leafless tree made of some kind of metal, attached by a pair of black wires to the old signal connections left over from Improvas at the base of the Entish Thighs. "Are we still online?"

"Yes, master," rasped the once proud voice of Grimy Hasbeen, son of Washtup. "The connection is still good, and your o-mail broadcast signal is still reaching all the people in The Mire and Beer with the power of the Entish thighs."

"Good," smiled the old vendor. Turning to the crowd that surrounded the Really-in-for-it-now-ship, he said simply, "Kill them."

"Oh, how cliche," protested the stunning Merisuwyniel, to no avail. The ancient wizard took no notice and prepared to drive away.

Last edited by Thenamir; 08-11-2004 at 11:14 PM. Reason: remove sig line
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