YAY! REVIEWS!
Raziah Surya-THANKS! I think some of the grammatical errors might've happened when I started to make the street people talk with a Cockney accent halfway through...By the way, COOL name!!! * bobs head *
Eve Eastborne-As I said before...Tis for moi to know, and ya to find oot. (Pardon the French accent.) Really, I DOOOOOO know, but if I told you now, half the bleedin' story would be given away, and that wouldn't be very nice. But...I'll just say that if you kinda put the things I said together (probation, drinking, knives, abuse...that kinda thing) it'll make more sense. For now anyways. I dunno. Think of Randi as a mysterious juvenile delinquent who has a tragic past and now is at the end of her sanity, lost in a foreign land of magic, sorcery, and knights...* swoons * Yay, I love messing with my characters' minds...lol. Thanks!
Now, our wonderful characteroo, Randi, has just been instructed to journey a block away in search of a marvelous inn ran by a slightly mad old coot, courtesy of her new best friend Sote, the lovesick stable boy with a flair for French cooking, (omg...did I really just write that? Lol, I'm on a sugarhigh) and will now proceed. I don't know if that made sense, and right now, I don't particularly care. TO BEGIN! * starts beating table computer is resting on with a tree branch that came out of nowhere * BOW DOWN TO ME, LOWLY MAHOGANY TABLE! I AM YOUR MASTER NOW! MWAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! La cucaracha! La cucaracha! Dee dee dee dee dee dee dee dee...La cucaracha! La cucaracha! Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo! Omg...I was just playing Hearts on the computer, and my scores where as following: 25, 42, and 66. LOL!!!
Disclaim: Me no own, you no sue, read me story, and then review.
OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN RHYME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ("Rhyme"...Such a funny word!)
The inn WAS big. Not Chicago big, but big for medieval Corus. It was four stories high, with a garden in the back, and a low stone wall wrapping around the entire estate. For a moment I just stood outside, staring up at the building. Of course Sote would send me here, I thought. It's big and'll need maids. It's probably a popular place for the local merchants, too...But it was either this or sleeping out on the streets, cold and hungry, and I wasn't about to let that happen, so I opened the front gate and let myself in.
The main room must've been a tavern, like in the Dancing Dove, because a bar was set up on one end and tables were spread over the floor. Only a few people sat at them, but they were dressed in traveling clothes, laughing, and only glanced up at me. Looking around, I wondered where I was going to find Pat Idle, the inn's owner. I mean, at NORMAL hotels you just go up to the front desk and BOOM, you're checked in, as long as you have the cash. I made my way up to the bar, where an elderly man was counting some coins.
"Hey," I said, leaning towards him. "D'you know where I could find the owner? Pat Idle?"
The man glanced furtively up at me, his eyes a watery blue. "Pat Idle?" he repeated. His voice was shaky, but deep.
I nodded.
"Why are you looking for Pat Idle?" he asked, raising one side of his gray unibrow.
"'Cause I need to, see? I'm looking for work."
"Work?" The old man cleared his throat. "You are but a child. Children needn't work."
"They do when they ain't got no moolah," I shot back hotly.
The man looked up at me, obviously puzzled. "Moo-lah," he said finally. "Moo-lah." He chuckled and went back to counting his coins.
I sighed and slapped a hand on the bar. I wasn't interested in explaining the meaning of American slang terms to him at the moment, so I said, "So d'you know where I could find PAT IDLE?"
"Yessir, respect your elders, child, respect your elders."
I stared at him, flabbergasted. "What the--?" I rubbed my forehead with a hand. "Okay. Let's start over. I am looking for PAT IDLE, owner of this INN. Would you kindly point me in the right direction so I might actually FIND HIM?"
The man continued to chuckle.
"Fine," I said. "Fine. I'll leave you to your craziness, thank you, and be on my way."
I turned and started to weave back through the tables.
"I'm Pat Idle," the man called back after me, in a sweet, singsong voice.
I stopped, and, showing all my teeth, spun around. "You know," I said conversationally, on the very edge of my sanity, "that's great. That really is." I started to giggle hysterically. "Because, here I am, saying to myself, 'If you don't find Pat Idle, you're probably going to end up just as crazy as that man at that bar over there, living on the streets, and that wouldn't be very fun, now would it?'" I stooped over, wheezing with laughter. I had to lean on one of the tables to breath. The travelers looked at me as if I were nuts. "Yes! Yes!" I shouted, hitting the table with a fist. "Well, here I am now, finding out that YOU are Pat Idle, and now," I said, starting to slow down and look as mournful as a dead cow, "you're probably going to take me for loony and throw me out, aren't you?" I threw up my hands and sighed happily.
A moment of silence followed my insane outburst.
"You're HIRED," Pat Idle said, pointing at me and marking something in a book.
I couldn't help it. With one last shrill psychotic laugh, I collapsed to the floor.
***'
"I think she's coming 'round," a man's voice said. A large, warm hand patted my cheek. "C'mon," the man cooed. "Wake up, everything's fine....wake up..."
My eyes fluttered open. I was staring up at Pat Idle. I twisted my face into a hideous grin. "Hell-ooooooooooooooo," I said.
The man smiled. "She's awake."
"Oh, but I'm not," I said, pulling myself up into a sitting position. "This is all a dream, and when I wake up, I'll be back home in a little room with dusty curtains and you will all be bye-bye." I stretched my ears out with my hands. "I am a tawny owl," I remarked, making them move back and forth slowly. "I would be Dumbo, the amazing flying elephant, since elephants flying is the greatest thing since sliced bread, but I had to be an owl instead," I explained. I jumped to my feet. "I know who you are!" I shouted to Pat, pointing an accusing finger at him. I raised an eyebrow at him, like I was some kind of superior life form. "You're Merlin, the Happy Pig!" (A/N: Another Blackadder line. Don't ask.) Pat smiled lopsidedly at me.
"Yes, all right, but-"
"No, no, no," I insisted, waving a hand at him. "You keep the scones, Edgar, I couldn't possibly-"
"I really think you should-"
I stared at him, horrified. "You're-you're one of THEM!" I shrieked, scrambling away. I fell right into one of the travelers, who had been watching me the whole time. "And you! You stay away from me!" I hopped daintily across the tables, bending occasionally to pick a nonexistent daisy, while the group of people watched me in awe. "See," I said clearly, in my best Martha Stuart voice, "if you arrange the flowers just SO, you will have the perfect ornate HOLY BAZOOKA BUBBLEGUM! WHATEVER GAVE YOU THAT hearts stars and rainbows, clovers and blue moons, pots of golden-" I stopped, then stood with my hands and my sides, back straight. "And we shall live in INFAMY oh yeah," I cried, shimmying across the table, "oh yeah, shake your bootie!" I stopped again and look outraged. "'Cause I'm a little PIX-ie!"
Pat Idle and several concerned travelers took me by the arms, while I shouted out the verses of the Star Spangled Banner. The last thing I remember, before they made me swallow something utterly unpleasant, was that they were laying me onto a great big bed, and a woman came into the room, dressed in a funny-looking hat.
Whoo-wee...I know NONE of that made any sense whatsoever, but as I said, I'm on a sugarhigh (I like Mounds bars named Fred) and felt like writing something really dumb. Or clever, or witty, or just plain stupid. I dunno. So if you don't like my beautiful work * sniffs * you can REVIEW and SAY SO!!!
Raziah Surya-THANKS! I think some of the grammatical errors might've happened when I started to make the street people talk with a Cockney accent halfway through...By the way, COOL name!!! * bobs head *
Eve Eastborne-As I said before...Tis for moi to know, and ya to find oot. (Pardon the French accent.) Really, I DOOOOOO know, but if I told you now, half the bleedin' story would be given away, and that wouldn't be very nice. But...I'll just say that if you kinda put the things I said together (probation, drinking, knives, abuse...that kinda thing) it'll make more sense. For now anyways. I dunno. Think of Randi as a mysterious juvenile delinquent who has a tragic past and now is at the end of her sanity, lost in a foreign land of magic, sorcery, and knights...* swoons * Yay, I love messing with my characters' minds...lol. Thanks!
Now, our wonderful characteroo, Randi, has just been instructed to journey a block away in search of a marvelous inn ran by a slightly mad old coot, courtesy of her new best friend Sote, the lovesick stable boy with a flair for French cooking, (omg...did I really just write that? Lol, I'm on a sugarhigh) and will now proceed. I don't know if that made sense, and right now, I don't particularly care. TO BEGIN! * starts beating table computer is resting on with a tree branch that came out of nowhere * BOW DOWN TO ME, LOWLY MAHOGANY TABLE! I AM YOUR MASTER NOW! MWAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! La cucaracha! La cucaracha! Dee dee dee dee dee dee dee dee...La cucaracha! La cucaracha! Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo! Omg...I was just playing Hearts on the computer, and my scores where as following: 25, 42, and 66. LOL!!!
Disclaim: Me no own, you no sue, read me story, and then review.
OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN RHYME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ("Rhyme"...Such a funny word!)
The inn WAS big. Not Chicago big, but big for medieval Corus. It was four stories high, with a garden in the back, and a low stone wall wrapping around the entire estate. For a moment I just stood outside, staring up at the building. Of course Sote would send me here, I thought. It's big and'll need maids. It's probably a popular place for the local merchants, too...But it was either this or sleeping out on the streets, cold and hungry, and I wasn't about to let that happen, so I opened the front gate and let myself in.
The main room must've been a tavern, like in the Dancing Dove, because a bar was set up on one end and tables were spread over the floor. Only a few people sat at them, but they were dressed in traveling clothes, laughing, and only glanced up at me. Looking around, I wondered where I was going to find Pat Idle, the inn's owner. I mean, at NORMAL hotels you just go up to the front desk and BOOM, you're checked in, as long as you have the cash. I made my way up to the bar, where an elderly man was counting some coins.
"Hey," I said, leaning towards him. "D'you know where I could find the owner? Pat Idle?"
The man glanced furtively up at me, his eyes a watery blue. "Pat Idle?" he repeated. His voice was shaky, but deep.
I nodded.
"Why are you looking for Pat Idle?" he asked, raising one side of his gray unibrow.
"'Cause I need to, see? I'm looking for work."
"Work?" The old man cleared his throat. "You are but a child. Children needn't work."
"They do when they ain't got no moolah," I shot back hotly.
The man looked up at me, obviously puzzled. "Moo-lah," he said finally. "Moo-lah." He chuckled and went back to counting his coins.
I sighed and slapped a hand on the bar. I wasn't interested in explaining the meaning of American slang terms to him at the moment, so I said, "So d'you know where I could find PAT IDLE?"
"Yessir, respect your elders, child, respect your elders."
I stared at him, flabbergasted. "What the--?" I rubbed my forehead with a hand. "Okay. Let's start over. I am looking for PAT IDLE, owner of this INN. Would you kindly point me in the right direction so I might actually FIND HIM?"
The man continued to chuckle.
"Fine," I said. "Fine. I'll leave you to your craziness, thank you, and be on my way."
I turned and started to weave back through the tables.
"I'm Pat Idle," the man called back after me, in a sweet, singsong voice.
I stopped, and, showing all my teeth, spun around. "You know," I said conversationally, on the very edge of my sanity, "that's great. That really is." I started to giggle hysterically. "Because, here I am, saying to myself, 'If you don't find Pat Idle, you're probably going to end up just as crazy as that man at that bar over there, living on the streets, and that wouldn't be very fun, now would it?'" I stooped over, wheezing with laughter. I had to lean on one of the tables to breath. The travelers looked at me as if I were nuts. "Yes! Yes!" I shouted, hitting the table with a fist. "Well, here I am now, finding out that YOU are Pat Idle, and now," I said, starting to slow down and look as mournful as a dead cow, "you're probably going to take me for loony and throw me out, aren't you?" I threw up my hands and sighed happily.
A moment of silence followed my insane outburst.
"You're HIRED," Pat Idle said, pointing at me and marking something in a book.
I couldn't help it. With one last shrill psychotic laugh, I collapsed to the floor.
***'
"I think she's coming 'round," a man's voice said. A large, warm hand patted my cheek. "C'mon," the man cooed. "Wake up, everything's fine....wake up..."
My eyes fluttered open. I was staring up at Pat Idle. I twisted my face into a hideous grin. "Hell-ooooooooooooooo," I said.
The man smiled. "She's awake."
"Oh, but I'm not," I said, pulling myself up into a sitting position. "This is all a dream, and when I wake up, I'll be back home in a little room with dusty curtains and you will all be bye-bye." I stretched my ears out with my hands. "I am a tawny owl," I remarked, making them move back and forth slowly. "I would be Dumbo, the amazing flying elephant, since elephants flying is the greatest thing since sliced bread, but I had to be an owl instead," I explained. I jumped to my feet. "I know who you are!" I shouted to Pat, pointing an accusing finger at him. I raised an eyebrow at him, like I was some kind of superior life form. "You're Merlin, the Happy Pig!" (A/N: Another Blackadder line. Don't ask.) Pat smiled lopsidedly at me.
"Yes, all right, but-"
"No, no, no," I insisted, waving a hand at him. "You keep the scones, Edgar, I couldn't possibly-"
"I really think you should-"
I stared at him, horrified. "You're-you're one of THEM!" I shrieked, scrambling away. I fell right into one of the travelers, who had been watching me the whole time. "And you! You stay away from me!" I hopped daintily across the tables, bending occasionally to pick a nonexistent daisy, while the group of people watched me in awe. "See," I said clearly, in my best Martha Stuart voice, "if you arrange the flowers just SO, you will have the perfect ornate HOLY BAZOOKA BUBBLEGUM! WHATEVER GAVE YOU THAT hearts stars and rainbows, clovers and blue moons, pots of golden-" I stopped, then stood with my hands and my sides, back straight. "And we shall live in INFAMY oh yeah," I cried, shimmying across the table, "oh yeah, shake your bootie!" I stopped again and look outraged. "'Cause I'm a little PIX-ie!"
Pat Idle and several concerned travelers took me by the arms, while I shouted out the verses of the Star Spangled Banner. The last thing I remember, before they made me swallow something utterly unpleasant, was that they were laying me onto a great big bed, and a woman came into the room, dressed in a funny-looking hat.
Whoo-wee...I know NONE of that made any sense whatsoever, but as I said, I'm on a sugarhigh (I like Mounds bars named Fred) and felt like writing something really dumb. Or clever, or witty, or just plain stupid. I dunno. So if you don't like my beautiful work * sniffs * you can REVIEW and SAY SO!!!