I betcha thought I fergot? Well I didn't! Here's chapter five! Swamp Thing is coming along...slowly. Ok, not at all. We're halfway through book 2. Woohoo. Enjoy.
The Two Cowards. Book 5
Or, In Which Piping Is Once Again Thrown Down, The Hunters Come To Eudora, And Hoho Is Subjected To A Horrible Disease.
Piping peered into the dark. In the light of the neon signs he could see what looked like an army pouring out of the gates. He waited. The last of the throng trickled out of the gate, and suddenly in the light illuminating the entrance there was a figure dressed in plaid. It waved gaily and went back inside.
"When I give the signal, we go in," said Piping. The caffeine buzz had long since worn off, and he found himself with a headache. Dawn broke in the sky, lighting the many towers. Piping signalled the Rents to creep inside. A guard stood at the entrance.
"'Ere, you can't come in! We don't open for another four hours!" He pointed at a sign.
"But I am coming in," said Piping quietly. "I have an appointment with Sillyman."
"'E didn't say nothin' to me," said the gatekeeper doubtfully. Piping smiled.
"Of course not. He obviously he didn't think that you were intelligent enough to understand the importance of my visit. But I am sure of your intellect. Will you not let me pass?"
The gatekeeper peered behind the blobbit. "And 'oo are these that come behind ye?"
"My associate Mary Christmas, and these others are my colleagues. This is somewhat of, a negotiation. Very important indeed. In fact, it concerns the collective fate of the entire world. And I say again: Will you not let me pass?" He put his head to one side and smiled up endearingly.
The guard thought for a moment. "I dunno..."
Piping sighed and put his hand to his forehead. "And will you so doom yourself, and your entire race? For indeed, if I am not allowed to pass, the world may suffer that which has not been known in the ages which in which it has travailed. Yet you may avert this fate, and forever be known as the One who has saved all the races of Men, and Selves, and Blobbits. This only do I ask, that you let me pass, I and my company."
The man blinked. "Awright," he opened the gate. "Good luck to ye!" and he tipped his hat. Piping bowed slighly and smiled as a great king might have smiled down upon a little child in the streets.
"What the heck has gotten into you?" whispered Mary into Piping's ear. Piping smiled again.
"Patience, dear friend, all in good time."
They neared the great tower of Ithinc. Above the door was a banner which read 'Sillymanland!'. Piping sneered at this show of greatness. Why, his banner would be seven times as big! He eyed the mountain to the north. It looked like a good place to carve his likeness. He suddenly lurched forward with a cry of pain. He looked down at where he had stubbed his toe. A bit of blood trickled from the nail. In his rage he kicked the rock.
"DestroyIthinc!" cried the hasty Rents. Immediately, they swarmed the place, hooting loudly and ripping and tearing the walls as if they were made of sponge cake, and yelling "DestroyDestroyDestroyMashMashRipRip" with an occasional "Java" thrown in.
"No!" shouted Piping. "Wait!" But the hasty Rents either did not hear, or ignored the wildly waving blobbit. Piping looked with despair at the destruction. He fell to his knees, defeated at the last by his own temper. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed. A strange cry rose above the noise of the Rents. Piping looked up. In the balcony above the banner upon the tower, was a figure dressed in plaid. It was Sillyman. He looked out at the destruction in despair. His eyes found Piping's, and each could read the ambition and desparation in the others' gaze. A cloud blocked Piping's vision, and when it cleared, he saw Fleenees casting great stones about like building blocks at kintergarten. Then the dust overwhelmed him, and he swooned and knew no more.
****************************************************
"This whole journey reeks like last easter's eggs!" shouted Legless as he was being dragged by the hair.
"Do you think I like it any better?" said Arrogant. "I cannot, nay, I refuse to, believe that I, Arrogant son of Thornbush the rightful king of Flounder am being put through such indignities which have never been known since in the history of the world!"
"I'm hungry. Are we there yet?" whined Wimpy.
"I know!" said Handoff, snapping his fingers. "Why didn't I think about it before?"
"What?" snapped his companions.
"I'll just page Bumblefax!" cried the blizzard.
"Who?" said Legless.
"My horse! At least, I like to think of him as my horse. There now!" And with a flourish, he pulled a beeper off his belt and pressed a few buttons. He then sat down. Luckily, the hole wasn't that deep and he was able to pull himself out without the help of his laughing so-called friends.
Arrogant, who was lying on the ground trying to get some sleep, first heard the first rumors of hoofbeats.
"They're coming!" he cried jumping up.
"We know," said Wimpy. "Legless saw them coming half an hour ago."
"B-b-but," spluttered the man. "The Authors said that I was the first to hear rumors!"
"Heard rumors, yes. Saw for a fact, not a chance," smirked the Self.
While Arrogant was still blubbering, Wimpy wandered over in front of a hill, where was a sign that read. "ThisIsAHill" He looked out into the distance, and saw three horses galloping gallantly towards them. The one far in front, a grey one, neighed in fright as it screeched to a stop before the blizzard.
"Bumblefax, my dear friend!" he cried. "It's so good to see you..." but the horse was gone.
"Erm," he said. The other companions glared at him.
"Let's get walking," said Handoff uncomfortably, with a weak grin.
They walked and walked and walked. And walked. And walked and walked. Even Handoff who was usually a chatterbox was unusually silent.
Wimpy lagged behind, as if burdened. Arrogant turned.
"What's the matter, slowpoke?" he growled.
Wimpy jumped. "Uh, nothing's the matter." The truth was, something was the matter. He could not help but think that they were deserting the blobbits. The faces of Mary and Piping had been popping into his dreams of late, sneering and leering. "You aren't thinking of deserting, are you Daft?" Mary would say. "I wouldn't like that, you know." And then he would laugh. Mary Christmas's laugh was cold, hard as ice. Wimpy passed his hand in front of his eyes. The Daft shivered, but not because of the wind.
****************************************************
Tom opened his still sleepy eyes to see Hoho lying on the ground, out cold. He looked around for Solemn, who was not in sight. Tom finally noticed that he was not in sight, and proceeded to stealthily probe Hoho's pockets for some object of value. Just then, Solemn came not only into sight but into mind.
"Hey!" hissed the creature. "You shouldn't do zat! What if he were to wake up?"
"I suppose you're right," sighed the blobbit. "I know how you don't like nasty things happening to people, even if the people are nasty. Say, do you suppose there's a grocery store around here? Since Mr. Hoho is asleep, I'd like to get some decent chow, if you know what I mean."
"Perhaps," said Solemn. "I shall go look." And he went off, accompanied by a two foot long list that Tom had made with his own half-brain.
The blobbit wandered around a bit, looking at all the plants and such. He came to a place that looked like there had been a barbeque some time before, but after half an hour of searching he came to the sad conclusion that there was no stray food lying around.
Solemn returned, bearing two grocery bags filled to the utmost with potato chips, dip, and pretzels.
"Ahh! Now I shall feast!" said Tom. At the mention of feast, and the additional rattling of cellophane bags, Hoho woke up.
"Pretzels!" he said. "Tom, you really shouldn't have!"
"Drat," muttered Tom. They munched the snacks greedily, having only been previously dining on healthy and nutritious food such as algae and tree bark.
"Do not crunch zo loudly!" said Solemn. "You never know who may be in zese woods. We are zstill very close to Mortar, I hope you realize."
"Aw, go munch on a stick," said Hoho rudely. Tom glared reproachfully at him.
"You oughtn't to talk to Mr. Solemn like that, you know, Mr. Hoho," he said. "Not with all he's doing for us."
"What do you know? You're just a blobbit!" cried Hoho tossing a pretzel at him.
"Yeah? Well it takes one to know one!" shouted Tom, lobbing the onion dip at his head.
The two blobbits lunged at each other and started screaming and throwing punches. They rolled down the hill in their fury, and crashed into a small stand of pine trees. All of a sudden, a voice spoke above their heads.
"Yo," it said.
Hoho looked up, and there to his total, complete, and all encompassing astonished amazement, was a man with purple hair. (Not to mention a strange disease he appeared to have, one of the symptoms being a metal like growth feeding on his nose, ears, lips, eyebrows and tongue.)
"Yo," the man said again, slower this time.
"Auummmm..." said Hoho.
"Duuuyyyy..." said Tom.
"Dudes, you need to seriously chill out. Am I right, brothers?"
Immediately, four or five men with streaked but naturally colored hair stepped out of the bushes and spake the same strange word that the blobbits had been subjected to. (It appeared they were also afflicted with the same metal-harboring disease as the purple-haired one, but not in such obviously advanced stages.)
"Uh, greetings and salutations," squeaked Hoho.
"Dude," said the man. "You talk so uncool-ly! Ain't you hip to the beat?"
"I don't think I like you talking to me like that!" said Hoho standing up to his full three-and-a-half-feet-short of a basketball player height.
"Chill, man! I was just seeking the groove, so to speak."
Hoho and Tom were now thoroughly befuddled. Never in all their travel had they heard such language.
"So, dudes, I've gotta, like, take care of some business over at the road yonder. Some of my groovy hipsters is gonna stay with you 'til I return. Later, dudes!"
And with that, the man pulled a stocking over his head and stumped off into the trees with all but two of his men. There were some sounds of screaming and clanging metal, and forms of men crashing through the trees above their heads. One voice kept calling 'Flounder is groovy! Flounder is groovy!' and then not soon after it changed it's chant to 'AIIEEE!! RETREAT, RETREAT!!'.
And immediately, as if an invisible cord had been pulled, a flock of strange pink birds flew out of the trees above their heads and flew off.
"Flamingos!" gasped Tom. "I've always wanted to see a flamingo! They are the war birds of the Mothballs, you know."
"We dig ya," one of the men said, looking worriedly to where the battle was. Almost as if summoned, the man with purple hair and all of his men flew from above.
"Like, run!" he shouted, and men picked up the blobbits and rushed off deeper into the woods as fast as their long legs could carry them. Hoho, as he was jostled up and down so violently, could not tell where they were headed. All he could see was green, brown, and more green blurs. Finally, the men slowed down. Hoho saw that they were at a great cliff, from which spilled a waterfall, that gathered at the base in a pool of immesurable depth before rushing off towards the setting sun.
"What a clichŽ," muttered Tom. The blobbits were soon consternated by the fact that the men suddenly blindfolded and gagged them before tying them up and putting them in sacks. They felt themselves being dragged up some stairs, through several puddles, then kicked down some stairs before coming to a stop on what felt like a very uneven, wet floor. The sacks were untied and the blobbits were jerked to their feet.
"Yo," said the purple haired man.
"There you go again!" shouted Hoho. "Talking in some unintelligible gibberishy gobbledegook! I'm getting very sick of this!" He stamped his foot obstinantly.
The man ignored him and turned to one of his men. "Were we seen?"
"That's a negatory," the man said.
"Radical," said purple-man. Once again he turned to the blobbits. "Chow?" he enquired.
"Oh, ok! You're Italian. I get it now! Hmm, ciao, me gusta prego!" said Hoho.
The man looked at him strangely. "Say what?" he said.
"Uh, me tia, gusto pasta?" said Tom.
The man shook his head slowly, clucking his tongue.
"Me alfredo y rotillia?" shouted Hoho.
The man sighed and bent close. "You dudes want some grub?" he said slowly.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sure," said Hoho quite embarrassedly.
"So, you aren't Italian?" said Tom, who was just a little bit slow on the uptake.
"Nope, Floundarian," said purple-man.
"Floundarian!" cried Hoho. "Then, perhaps you know of a man called Boring? He was traveling with me!"
"Boring? What do you dudes know about Boring?" said the man.
"I know that he was very boring," offered Tom.
"You recall a totally cool object he carried?"
"Uh, I remember he had nothing of interest," said Hoho.
"He had a funny picture of himself on his drivers' license," said Tom. "Not much cash, though."
"Dudes, that guy was my brother! He may have mentioned me. I'm known around Flounder as Fairifear."
"He said something about you eating chocolate before bed, and the dream that brought him to Flivenbell. Y'know,
Two dark nights in the middle of the week,
three penguins went out to fleek.
That was it, wasn't it?"
"Not exaclitarial," said Fairifear, "But close enough. You'd be, like, overcome with grief then, if I told you that he split?"
"Split what? The atom?" said Hoho. "Yes, I would, because I've been trying to accomplish that very feat for seven years now, and if someone else did it I would be very upset."
"No! I mean died!"
"No," said Hoho very truthfully.
"Oh, ok," said Fairifear, not quite sure what else to say.
"How do you know he's dead?" said Tom.
"Corpse," said the man cryptically.
"Dude," whispered Hoho.
"Yeah, I thought maybe you like, might have known something about it."
"What are you insinuating?" said Tom, standing straight up and glaring at Fairifear. "I don't like your tone! Why, if I were a lesser blobbit, I'd say to Mr. Hoho, 'Mr. Hoho, why don't you take Moron's great ring and...'"
Hoho squealed with fright and clamped his hand over Tom's mouth, but it was too late.
"Ring?" said Fairifear. "What ring?"
"Moron's great ring!" cried Tom, wriggling out of Hoho's grasp like greased soap. "We're out to destroy it in the cracks of gloom! Solemn is our guide, and Handoff is dead, and Hoho killed Boring..."
"Duuuuuude! Like, Moron's great ring? Tubular! I could be like, the grooviest hipster on the face of the planet! Nah. Thanks for offering though, dudes! I'll give ya some grub, and you'll be on your way. Later!" And with that, he picked the two blobbits up and threw them out of the cave.
They picked themselves up at the bottom of the mountain.
"Was that my imagination or was that really wierd?" said Tom, rubbing his head.
"It was really wierd, Tom," said Hoho, visibly shaken.
Solemn poked his head out of a bush. "Come, the darkness is deepening! We must make haste!"
The blobbits followed the creature stealthily, though not with a nervous backward glance or two.
The Two Cowards. Book 5
Or, In Which Piping Is Once Again Thrown Down, The Hunters Come To Eudora, And Hoho Is Subjected To A Horrible Disease.
Piping peered into the dark. In the light of the neon signs he could see what looked like an army pouring out of the gates. He waited. The last of the throng trickled out of the gate, and suddenly in the light illuminating the entrance there was a figure dressed in plaid. It waved gaily and went back inside.
"When I give the signal, we go in," said Piping. The caffeine buzz had long since worn off, and he found himself with a headache. Dawn broke in the sky, lighting the many towers. Piping signalled the Rents to creep inside. A guard stood at the entrance.
"'Ere, you can't come in! We don't open for another four hours!" He pointed at a sign.
"But I am coming in," said Piping quietly. "I have an appointment with Sillyman."
"'E didn't say nothin' to me," said the gatekeeper doubtfully. Piping smiled.
"Of course not. He obviously he didn't think that you were intelligent enough to understand the importance of my visit. But I am sure of your intellect. Will you not let me pass?"
The gatekeeper peered behind the blobbit. "And 'oo are these that come behind ye?"
"My associate Mary Christmas, and these others are my colleagues. This is somewhat of, a negotiation. Very important indeed. In fact, it concerns the collective fate of the entire world. And I say again: Will you not let me pass?" He put his head to one side and smiled up endearingly.
The guard thought for a moment. "I dunno..."
Piping sighed and put his hand to his forehead. "And will you so doom yourself, and your entire race? For indeed, if I am not allowed to pass, the world may suffer that which has not been known in the ages which in which it has travailed. Yet you may avert this fate, and forever be known as the One who has saved all the races of Men, and Selves, and Blobbits. This only do I ask, that you let me pass, I and my company."
The man blinked. "Awright," he opened the gate. "Good luck to ye!" and he tipped his hat. Piping bowed slighly and smiled as a great king might have smiled down upon a little child in the streets.
"What the heck has gotten into you?" whispered Mary into Piping's ear. Piping smiled again.
"Patience, dear friend, all in good time."
They neared the great tower of Ithinc. Above the door was a banner which read 'Sillymanland!'. Piping sneered at this show of greatness. Why, his banner would be seven times as big! He eyed the mountain to the north. It looked like a good place to carve his likeness. He suddenly lurched forward with a cry of pain. He looked down at where he had stubbed his toe. A bit of blood trickled from the nail. In his rage he kicked the rock.
"DestroyIthinc!" cried the hasty Rents. Immediately, they swarmed the place, hooting loudly and ripping and tearing the walls as if they were made of sponge cake, and yelling "DestroyDestroyDestroyMashMashRipRip" with an occasional "Java" thrown in.
"No!" shouted Piping. "Wait!" But the hasty Rents either did not hear, or ignored the wildly waving blobbit. Piping looked with despair at the destruction. He fell to his knees, defeated at the last by his own temper. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed. A strange cry rose above the noise of the Rents. Piping looked up. In the balcony above the banner upon the tower, was a figure dressed in plaid. It was Sillyman. He looked out at the destruction in despair. His eyes found Piping's, and each could read the ambition and desparation in the others' gaze. A cloud blocked Piping's vision, and when it cleared, he saw Fleenees casting great stones about like building blocks at kintergarten. Then the dust overwhelmed him, and he swooned and knew no more.
****************************************************
"This whole journey reeks like last easter's eggs!" shouted Legless as he was being dragged by the hair.
"Do you think I like it any better?" said Arrogant. "I cannot, nay, I refuse to, believe that I, Arrogant son of Thornbush the rightful king of Flounder am being put through such indignities which have never been known since in the history of the world!"
"I'm hungry. Are we there yet?" whined Wimpy.
"I know!" said Handoff, snapping his fingers. "Why didn't I think about it before?"
"What?" snapped his companions.
"I'll just page Bumblefax!" cried the blizzard.
"Who?" said Legless.
"My horse! At least, I like to think of him as my horse. There now!" And with a flourish, he pulled a beeper off his belt and pressed a few buttons. He then sat down. Luckily, the hole wasn't that deep and he was able to pull himself out without the help of his laughing so-called friends.
Arrogant, who was lying on the ground trying to get some sleep, first heard the first rumors of hoofbeats.
"They're coming!" he cried jumping up.
"We know," said Wimpy. "Legless saw them coming half an hour ago."
"B-b-but," spluttered the man. "The Authors said that I was the first to hear rumors!"
"Heard rumors, yes. Saw for a fact, not a chance," smirked the Self.
While Arrogant was still blubbering, Wimpy wandered over in front of a hill, where was a sign that read. "ThisIsAHill" He looked out into the distance, and saw three horses galloping gallantly towards them. The one far in front, a grey one, neighed in fright as it screeched to a stop before the blizzard.
"Bumblefax, my dear friend!" he cried. "It's so good to see you..." but the horse was gone.
"Erm," he said. The other companions glared at him.
"Let's get walking," said Handoff uncomfortably, with a weak grin.
They walked and walked and walked. And walked. And walked and walked. Even Handoff who was usually a chatterbox was unusually silent.
Wimpy lagged behind, as if burdened. Arrogant turned.
"What's the matter, slowpoke?" he growled.
Wimpy jumped. "Uh, nothing's the matter." The truth was, something was the matter. He could not help but think that they were deserting the blobbits. The faces of Mary and Piping had been popping into his dreams of late, sneering and leering. "You aren't thinking of deserting, are you Daft?" Mary would say. "I wouldn't like that, you know." And then he would laugh. Mary Christmas's laugh was cold, hard as ice. Wimpy passed his hand in front of his eyes. The Daft shivered, but not because of the wind.
****************************************************
Tom opened his still sleepy eyes to see Hoho lying on the ground, out cold. He looked around for Solemn, who was not in sight. Tom finally noticed that he was not in sight, and proceeded to stealthily probe Hoho's pockets for some object of value. Just then, Solemn came not only into sight but into mind.
"Hey!" hissed the creature. "You shouldn't do zat! What if he were to wake up?"
"I suppose you're right," sighed the blobbit. "I know how you don't like nasty things happening to people, even if the people are nasty. Say, do you suppose there's a grocery store around here? Since Mr. Hoho is asleep, I'd like to get some decent chow, if you know what I mean."
"Perhaps," said Solemn. "I shall go look." And he went off, accompanied by a two foot long list that Tom had made with his own half-brain.
The blobbit wandered around a bit, looking at all the plants and such. He came to a place that looked like there had been a barbeque some time before, but after half an hour of searching he came to the sad conclusion that there was no stray food lying around.
Solemn returned, bearing two grocery bags filled to the utmost with potato chips, dip, and pretzels.
"Ahh! Now I shall feast!" said Tom. At the mention of feast, and the additional rattling of cellophane bags, Hoho woke up.
"Pretzels!" he said. "Tom, you really shouldn't have!"
"Drat," muttered Tom. They munched the snacks greedily, having only been previously dining on healthy and nutritious food such as algae and tree bark.
"Do not crunch zo loudly!" said Solemn. "You never know who may be in zese woods. We are zstill very close to Mortar, I hope you realize."
"Aw, go munch on a stick," said Hoho rudely. Tom glared reproachfully at him.
"You oughtn't to talk to Mr. Solemn like that, you know, Mr. Hoho," he said. "Not with all he's doing for us."
"What do you know? You're just a blobbit!" cried Hoho tossing a pretzel at him.
"Yeah? Well it takes one to know one!" shouted Tom, lobbing the onion dip at his head.
The two blobbits lunged at each other and started screaming and throwing punches. They rolled down the hill in their fury, and crashed into a small stand of pine trees. All of a sudden, a voice spoke above their heads.
"Yo," it said.
Hoho looked up, and there to his total, complete, and all encompassing astonished amazement, was a man with purple hair. (Not to mention a strange disease he appeared to have, one of the symptoms being a metal like growth feeding on his nose, ears, lips, eyebrows and tongue.)
"Yo," the man said again, slower this time.
"Auummmm..." said Hoho.
"Duuuyyyy..." said Tom.
"Dudes, you need to seriously chill out. Am I right, brothers?"
Immediately, four or five men with streaked but naturally colored hair stepped out of the bushes and spake the same strange word that the blobbits had been subjected to. (It appeared they were also afflicted with the same metal-harboring disease as the purple-haired one, but not in such obviously advanced stages.)
"Uh, greetings and salutations," squeaked Hoho.
"Dude," said the man. "You talk so uncool-ly! Ain't you hip to the beat?"
"I don't think I like you talking to me like that!" said Hoho standing up to his full three-and-a-half-feet-short of a basketball player height.
"Chill, man! I was just seeking the groove, so to speak."
Hoho and Tom were now thoroughly befuddled. Never in all their travel had they heard such language.
"So, dudes, I've gotta, like, take care of some business over at the road yonder. Some of my groovy hipsters is gonna stay with you 'til I return. Later, dudes!"
And with that, the man pulled a stocking over his head and stumped off into the trees with all but two of his men. There were some sounds of screaming and clanging metal, and forms of men crashing through the trees above their heads. One voice kept calling 'Flounder is groovy! Flounder is groovy!' and then not soon after it changed it's chant to 'AIIEEE!! RETREAT, RETREAT!!'.
And immediately, as if an invisible cord had been pulled, a flock of strange pink birds flew out of the trees above their heads and flew off.
"Flamingos!" gasped Tom. "I've always wanted to see a flamingo! They are the war birds of the Mothballs, you know."
"We dig ya," one of the men said, looking worriedly to where the battle was. Almost as if summoned, the man with purple hair and all of his men flew from above.
"Like, run!" he shouted, and men picked up the blobbits and rushed off deeper into the woods as fast as their long legs could carry them. Hoho, as he was jostled up and down so violently, could not tell where they were headed. All he could see was green, brown, and more green blurs. Finally, the men slowed down. Hoho saw that they were at a great cliff, from which spilled a waterfall, that gathered at the base in a pool of immesurable depth before rushing off towards the setting sun.
"What a clichŽ," muttered Tom. The blobbits were soon consternated by the fact that the men suddenly blindfolded and gagged them before tying them up and putting them in sacks. They felt themselves being dragged up some stairs, through several puddles, then kicked down some stairs before coming to a stop on what felt like a very uneven, wet floor. The sacks were untied and the blobbits were jerked to their feet.
"Yo," said the purple haired man.
"There you go again!" shouted Hoho. "Talking in some unintelligible gibberishy gobbledegook! I'm getting very sick of this!" He stamped his foot obstinantly.
The man ignored him and turned to one of his men. "Were we seen?"
"That's a negatory," the man said.
"Radical," said purple-man. Once again he turned to the blobbits. "Chow?" he enquired.
"Oh, ok! You're Italian. I get it now! Hmm, ciao, me gusta prego!" said Hoho.
The man looked at him strangely. "Say what?" he said.
"Uh, me tia, gusto pasta?" said Tom.
The man shook his head slowly, clucking his tongue.
"Me alfredo y rotillia?" shouted Hoho.
The man sighed and bent close. "You dudes want some grub?" he said slowly.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sure," said Hoho quite embarrassedly.
"So, you aren't Italian?" said Tom, who was just a little bit slow on the uptake.
"Nope, Floundarian," said purple-man.
"Floundarian!" cried Hoho. "Then, perhaps you know of a man called Boring? He was traveling with me!"
"Boring? What do you dudes know about Boring?" said the man.
"I know that he was very boring," offered Tom.
"You recall a totally cool object he carried?"
"Uh, I remember he had nothing of interest," said Hoho.
"He had a funny picture of himself on his drivers' license," said Tom. "Not much cash, though."
"Dudes, that guy was my brother! He may have mentioned me. I'm known around Flounder as Fairifear."
"He said something about you eating chocolate before bed, and the dream that brought him to Flivenbell. Y'know,
Two dark nights in the middle of the week,
three penguins went out to fleek.
That was it, wasn't it?"
"Not exaclitarial," said Fairifear, "But close enough. You'd be, like, overcome with grief then, if I told you that he split?"
"Split what? The atom?" said Hoho. "Yes, I would, because I've been trying to accomplish that very feat for seven years now, and if someone else did it I would be very upset."
"No! I mean died!"
"No," said Hoho very truthfully.
"Oh, ok," said Fairifear, not quite sure what else to say.
"How do you know he's dead?" said Tom.
"Corpse," said the man cryptically.
"Dude," whispered Hoho.
"Yeah, I thought maybe you like, might have known something about it."
"What are you insinuating?" said Tom, standing straight up and glaring at Fairifear. "I don't like your tone! Why, if I were a lesser blobbit, I'd say to Mr. Hoho, 'Mr. Hoho, why don't you take Moron's great ring and...'"
Hoho squealed with fright and clamped his hand over Tom's mouth, but it was too late.
"Ring?" said Fairifear. "What ring?"
"Moron's great ring!" cried Tom, wriggling out of Hoho's grasp like greased soap. "We're out to destroy it in the cracks of gloom! Solemn is our guide, and Handoff is dead, and Hoho killed Boring..."
"Duuuuuude! Like, Moron's great ring? Tubular! I could be like, the grooviest hipster on the face of the planet! Nah. Thanks for offering though, dudes! I'll give ya some grub, and you'll be on your way. Later!" And with that, he picked the two blobbits up and threw them out of the cave.
They picked themselves up at the bottom of the mountain.
"Was that my imagination or was that really wierd?" said Tom, rubbing his head.
"It was really wierd, Tom," said Hoho, visibly shaken.
Solemn poked his head out of a bush. "Come, the darkness is deepening! We must make haste!"
The blobbits followed the creature stealthily, though not with a nervous backward glance or two.