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Old 10-23-2003, 10:01 AM   #90
Thenamir
Spectre of Capitalism
 
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Join Date: May 2001
Location: Battling evil bureaucrats at Zeta Aquilae
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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!
Sting

Gateskeeper sat on the velvet couch in the Lord Dimli's posh office smoking Dimli's finest pipeweed from the lebethrond-wood humidor on Dimli's massive office desk. Dimli himself sat behind the desk, shaking in his dwarf-boots, grinning foolishly and acting as conciliatory as a dwarf can when his back is to the wall. Gateskeeper had broken the bank at the Glitzy Caverns and was now trying to cash in.

The most incredible streak of "luck" had kept that ball falling on the double-zero slot for the better part of an hour. Even when the dwarf running the game nailed a board over that particular spot, the ball had managed to find the only knothole in the wood and fell in anyway. Most of the crowd on that half of the casino had gathered around the table to see the monsterous pile of chips growing exponentially. Especially two large, dark figures who hovered near Gateskeeper's elbows.

Those two massive beings now stood one on either side of Gateskeeper, arms folded, scowling at the Lord Dimli from behind pinstripe hoods that could not obscure the
smouldering rubescent glow of their eyes. They were Korprat-Loyers, the demon barristers of the ancient world, their wing-tip shoes spread from one wall of the cavernous office to the other. (Translators note: it is a matter of great debate amongst Muddled-Mirth scholars as to whether Korprat-Loyers actually wore wing-tips, or whether it was a metaphorical description of their imposing presence.)

"So," said Gateskeeper in a cheery voice, "I believe you owe me...let's see...how much was it again, Golfboll?"

Golfboll, on Gateskeeper's left chafed at having to attend this upstart wizard-boy. He had once been one of Mogul's chief lieutenants. He was charged with the real-estate contracts and shopping centers of Minus Mallcool until he missed a clause at the Fall of Mandolin. Golfboll nevertheless glared at Dimli and said, "Four billion, two-hundred twenty-seven million, eighty-nine thousand, four-hundred sixty-one kabobs, boss. And two calzones."

"Ah, yes, that was it," said Gateskeeper, oozing all the geniality and smoothness of Martha Stewart selling snake oil. (One of Kuruharan's largest competitors for that lucrative market.) "And I'd like to be paid now. In cash." he said, relighting his pipe. He took a long draw and blew several smoke-rings that fashioned themselves into the form of handcuffs, chains, and hangman's-nooses that drifted lazily around Dimli's face.

"M-m-mister G-g-gateskeeper, sir," gulped Dimli, his mouth suddenly very dry and his brow suddenly very wet, "w-w-we...don't have that much money in our bank. It's m-m-more than this entire complex is worth."

"Oh," said Gateskeeper, his tone changing to one of mild commiseration and regret, "that is too bad. However, I've taken the liberty of having Golfboll here draw up a contract deeding over the entire operation to me. Just sign the papers. Then leave."

Dimli would have bristled at this request except for the towering Golfboll hovering over him, exuding that black breath that threatened to eat away the finish on his desk. Dimli had not been this scared since that insufferable elf, Lackalass, kept trying to pull him into dark corners while he was giving the grand tour.

The trembling dwarf knew he had no choice if he wanted to save his miserable hide. He took his quill in his shaking hand, scrawled a signature, and pushed the papers back across the desk. Golfball snatched them up from the desk and carried them to the waiting Gateskeeper, who examined them briefly before looking up at Dimli. "I believe you're in my chair," he said with no trace of emotion. He snapped his fingers. The other Loyer, Dirtbag, strode to the desk, lifted Dimli from his chair, and set him down on the floor near the office door.

With a smug grin of satisfaction Gateskeeper walked around to the chair and sat down. It was then that he discovered that the chair was built for dwarf-kind, and he was now firmly stuck between the armrests. He still retained enough dignity to say, "That's all, ex-lord Dimli. Show him out, Dirtbag." The Loyer moved to obey, but all in the room froze when a loud rumble grew to a deafening roar...

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: Thenamir ]
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