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Old 07-21-2003, 01:49 PM   #18
Eidolon of a Took
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Join Date: Sep 2002
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Vogonwë’s speculations on the worth of Pimpi versus his pocketbook, were interrupted as he caught sight of a visually stunning, not to mention serendipitous, event. He watched with rapt attention as the rapidly spreading flames rapaciously wrapped their flickering fingers around the location of his employment, the Daily Floss headquarters. “Ai!” he cried, but it was not a cry of dismay, as the term is usually is used to convey. The vocal inflection had a subtly higher arc, you see, and even though the spelling and punctuation was the same, it carried a distinctly different meaning. Translated from the archaic Quixotic into simpler Simian and then into Westosterone which is represented by English, it means, roughly, “Alright, DUDE!”

The roof of the Daily Floss collapsed with a magnificent snap, crackle and pop. This was followed by a whooshing roar as the flames bellowed and billowed and roiled and rocked and rolled throughout the entire edifice, disintegrating it nicely. He even thought he was able to detect the frantic screams of the custodian in charge of lighting. After a few moments of gloating at the ghastly yet glorious demise of the Daily Floss, Vogonwë turned to Pimpi (who was roasting marshmallows over a mellon stand) and said, “We gotta get out of this place.”

“Why?” she asked stickily.

“Cuz, girl, there’s a better life for you and me,” Vogonwë informed her melodiously. “Also, the flames are nearing us, and I don’t want to turn into a Vogonwë/Pimpi/mellon stand smore.”

“So where are we going?” Pimpi wondered, tossing her skewer aside and skewering an ill-fated Grundorian who chose that rather inopportune moment to run by in a panic.

“First, we’ll get some horses from Sethamir, and then… who knows! To infinity and beyond!” Vogonwë said, feeling giddy and adventurous after watching his workplace roast into oblivion.

“Oh, then we’d better pack,” Pimpi said practically. And so they did—pilfering packs, and pelf to put in them, from the smoldering ruins of the marketplace. Fortuitously, if not plausibly, they already had their weapons with them (Pimpi’s dagger Hush, and Vogonwë’s quiver of infamous yet unnamed hand-thrown arrows) and so after stealing some supplies, they went to the stable to hijack some horses.

Vogonwë had had his eye on a pair of fine looking geldings for a while (they were guaranteed not to run away with a lover while you’re in the middle of an important Quest) and so they quickly saddled up the identical twin roans: the legendarily lethargic, Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Vogonwë thought that any two horses who could chew hay placidly whilst their stable burned down around them, would be ideal mounts.

Pimpi’s cascade of curls was starting to singe, so she didn’t care what they rode as long as they rode.

As they galloped out of the doomed city, Vogonwë lifted his voice in spontaneous song:

C’mon Flossy light on fire!
Time to set the Floss on fire!

Torches couldn’t get much brighter,
Even if you’re a front page writer.
This is sure a level higher!

C’mon Flossy light on fire!
Time to set the Floss on fire!

I hope I don’t inspire ire,
When the flames I do admire.
But you know that I would be a liar,
If I tried to fake a crier.

So c’mon Flossy light on FIRE!!!

[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: Diamond18 ]
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