I posted this previously, and an old friend has asked me to repost it. Here it is.
If I Were A Goblin
The great and powerful Goblin King, Jareth, strode boldly into the tiny room that was my little corner of the goblin castle. Though little more than a closet, it was sufficient for my needs and had always been home.
Today, the King was dressed in the obsidian black breast plate emblazoned with the Goblin crest and wore the formal high necked cloak of blue and black that he was so fond of when he was in a bad mood. Unfortunately, that didn't bode well for me.
"Well?' the King demanded quite loudly.
"Umm, well what, sire?" I replied, though I knew exactly what I meant. Frankly, I was stalling and he knew it.
"You know very well what, Nefereu! Did you finish the latest chapter?" The King retorted angrily.
"Uhh, not exactly, Majesty." I offered meekly. I knew he wasn't going to like my answer.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'Not exactly'? Didn't I order you to work on it until it was finished? What have you been doing?" The King shouted.
"Well." I offered sheepishly. "Me got busy."
"Busy? Busy? Tra la la! I suggest YOU get busy writing before I lose my temper. I've been generous with you until now, Nefereu, but my patience is at an end!" He informed me.
"But me typing as fast as me can!" I cried in my defense. "And my muse keep goofing off."
"You tell that muse of yours that she'd better get to work and help you write or you'll both be creating your next story from the inside of an oubliette next to the Bog of Eternal Stench! I want to get to the chapter where I get to kiss Sarah and make her my Queen! You will write it and write it now!" The King demanded, his mismatched eyes glittering angrily.
I don't know what came over me; but I actually talked back to the Goblin King.
"It not that easy! If you so anxious, YOU write it!" I replied snidely.
The moment the words were out, I knew I'd made a mistake. The anger on the King's face told me so. When he spoke, his voice was icy cold and full of magical fury. His voice was quite low; but it made it all the more terrifying.
"I am a King, Nefereu. Kings do NOT type. Now get to work or you'll find out exactly how ungenerous I am capable of being!"
Immediately sensing a reprieve, I threw myself to my knees and groveled.
"Yes, majesty! Me do it right now! You no be disappointed!"
"See that I'm not!" The King commanded as he stormed out.
I sat back and breathed a sigh of relief! That was a close one! The King could be very unpredictable at the best of times. Getting on his bad side is never a good idea. With a heavy sigh, I turned back to my table and got back to work.
Nefereu's note: For any confused by the incongruity of my manner of speech in this tale, the answer is quite simple. I write much better than I speak. When I talk, my grammar is atrocious. Luckily, my writing is a bit better.