[Hookbill the Goomba]

Smilog sat on the floor, nursing his bruised chin. His voice now slured and he drooled uncontrollably. "Cruss that drated creaturr!" he slured, "I'll gif him what forr!"

"You talk but do nothing," said Andvarri, "We need to get in there as soon as possible and get the... the thing."

"I've been meaning to assssk," said Smilog as he rose, "whath isss the thhing thhat Roggie holdsss? Jussst ssso I know whatt tto look for."

"Well," Andvarri began, but he soon grew silent and scratched his chin, "its not so much 'what' as ... 'who'."

"You're going to kidnap him?" spat Smilog, his chin healing a little.

"No, no, no!" cried Andvarri folding his arms. Their eyes met, like two armies that collide in a violent fray that causes far much more blood shed than there is blood in the soldiers. "Okay, we are. But-"

"I don’t want to hear it!" Smilog stomped around, "I'm not getting thrown into a Mordor jail! Do you know what they do to you in those things?"

"Call me old fashioned, but I had planned on not getting caught." Andvarri smirked and walked towards the door of Roggie. "Now, are you going to help me?" Smilog thought about it for a moment, and soon all the memories of Roggies past orders to him came flooding back. If two short memories can be classed as a flood, for Roggie had only ever asked him for two things in the past; to pass him the salt once and to hurry up when walking towards the black Jim table in the casino (Black Jack hadn’t been invented yet).

"What choice do I have?" mumbled Smilog with a frown, "Alright, I'll help you. But if we get caught, I will dinie ever knowing you or anything to do with you! got that?" Andvarri nodded and opened the door. Before Smilog could follow him in, the door slammed shut and Andvarri was heard inside talking to someone.

"Now! Roggie, the time has come to-" began the man,

"Who are you? How dare you! Go away!" cried the obvious voice of Roggie, "Guards!"

"The guards won't help you! I'll-" Andvarri began, yet before his sentence was even two syllables old there was the sound of banging and crashing. Smilog shoved the door open and all he saw was Andvarri face down in a shopping trolley full of ham hurtling along a grease-covered track into a wall under a window. Andvarri flew out of the trolley when it hit the wall and smashed out of the newly placed stained glass picture of Roggie holding a large cricket bat.

The gold promising man plummeted out of the window and down, down into deep dark. "No!" cried Smilog, "The map! The Gold!"

"Who are you?" said Roggie, "And what do you want?"

"What do you mean, 'who am I'?" said Smilog, turning quickly to the stumpy little man, "I'm Smilog, one of your advisors! I passed you the salt once."

"Oh! Yes! I remember you! So what? Go away! Unless you like ham..." he pointed over to the shopping trolley with and impatient look in his eyes.