Okay, I am just doing this to finish off the whole Neal Gets Drunk thing, and I am NOT WRITING ANY MORE!!! I am not doing any more rude poems or songs (I've got no more ideas) and I am just doing this to tuck in the ends. I have one last thing to say, this is a note to RS (no full name, to preserve her privacy). Product of a twisted mind! Hee hee hoo ha ha! That is probably the truth. (hee hee) So, we have…
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Neal Gets Drunk
Chapter 3: Conclusion and a Pig
Desmaria wheeled the cart down the hall, not noticing when a stone caught under one of the wheels. With a Crash! Bang! Des fell flat on her face and the cart went careening down the hall. Uh, oh… she thought.
Numair, just leaving his lab, was greeted by a roast pig on a platter smashing into him and carrying him down the hall. He was hung by the back of his coat, hanging on to the bottom shelf of the cart for dear life.
"Yes, Lord Wyldon, you may leave now," said the Mithran Priest in charge of Mathematics. Wyldon had just been watching the pages as they got their lessons, and was about to leave.
"All right, I'm just making sure that these lumps get their book learning, not that they could learn anything," The Stump growled, and opened the door.
"What the-" Lord Wyldon saw a cart with a roast pig on the top shelf and Numair on the bottom come sailing towards him too late. The collision seemed to be in slow motion; Wyldon was hit by the cart and the cart went flying overhead.
"Ooh, ow, get off-"
"Your elbow is in my mouth!"
"I'm covered in honey-mustard sauce!"
When finally it all settled down, Numair was standing up, dripping honey-mustard sauce, with a pig's ear nestled in his hair, and poor Lord Wyldon was lying stomach down on the ground, the pig's tail stuck in his pants and an apple in his mouth.
"Ah an' 'awk an' Ah 'ot a' auul e' 'y 'outh!"
Wyldon spat out the apple. "What is the meaning of this, your powerful mageness?!? Do you enjoy riding pigcarts in your spare time!?!"
By now all of the pages and quite a few palace dwellers were gathered around this scene, giggling and pointing.
Numair put on a straight face. "Why no, actually, I just finished creating a monster- er, simulacrum, and I was going to my rooms."
Wyldon rose in a dignified manner, and stalked off.
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Aargh! I don't care if everyone hates it! I just never want to write another Neal Gets Drunk again!! Give me flames! Comments! Worship! Whatever, I just want to see if I can break seventy!