Disclaimer: I do not own DL, TSR, Monty Python, Spaceballs, or ANYTHING else, 'cept my imagination (rainbow appears between hands).

CHAPTER 20! Yayyyyy!

CHAPTER TWENTY.

Dally's Adventures In Solace

Part Two.

A little red gremlin swung her legs idly as she stared down from her perch on the ceiling. Beneath her a crazed dwarf - weirdest looking one she'd ever seen - with a big stick - now where'd he get that? - was chasing a dark elf - HOT! - around the room in circles - actually, more ovals than circles, but you get what I mean.

Dalamar was running out of breath - literally - when he got a bright idea.

"Hey!" Dalamar snatched the lightbulb off his head and stared at it. "Cool."

Flint stopped chasing Dalamar and they both oggled at the lightbulb.

. . . ten minutes later . . .

Still oggling.

. . . thirty minutes later . . .

Nope, still oggling.

. . . does this seem familiar to anyone? . . .

"Heythatsmine!"

Both Dalamar and Flint turned towards the cry. A bearded gnome stood in the enterence of the inn.

"Thatsmineyouknow." he jabbered. "Iinventeditusingtheproperamountofsodiumanbycar-"

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed a patron, lifting his head.

Silence insued.

"Um . . . sir?" Dalamar broke the silence.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YOU BROKE THE SILENCE? HOW COULD YOU BREAK THE SILENCE?" a little blue gremlin jumped onto the table, then promptly collasped, sobbing. "I LOVED THE SILENCE! NOO! YOU EVIL PERSON!"

And with that, the gremlin, whose name we cannot pronounce, jumped up to the two, seized Flint's stick, and began walloping Dalamar on the head - or at least trying to. A scuffle insued, and the two began to process of running around the Inn. In circles. For the second time.

Yeah . . .

"No!" shrieked the gnome from the doorway. "Dontbreakmylightbulb! Don't! Pleasewho-"

"I have the lightbulb!" cried Flint. "And burning guacamole can't pry it from me!"

"PleasedontittooksolongtomakeandJUSTDAMMITALLGIVEITTOME!" shrieked the gnome, quite loudly. Flint, a bored patron who just woke up, and the gnome began playing gnome in the middle. We don't need to describe it, so we shall not.

Another patron-who-just-woke-up rolled over and stared at the patron who had shouted 'nooooooooooooooooooooooo." 23 os, count 'em! and said "What in the name of any god was that?"

"I just wanted to do it." protested the man weakly.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHH! Get away from me! Stop chasing me! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT?" screamed poor Dalamar as he was chased around by the crazed blue dude.

BAANNGG!

With a noise that stopped all activity - no, that does not include breathing, literalitsts - a mousie with a Really Big Stick walked out of his mousehole and got the poor crazed blue gremlin dude full in the face. Heteetered, anda gremlin blew a puff of air on him, causing him to fall over.

Everyone just kind of stared.

The mousie walked over and, using the Really Big Stick, vaulted up onto a table. He motioned to the mousehole, and a line of mice tap-danced out of it. Tossing away the useless tophats and coats, they completely ignored everyone else and used (duh duh duh) THE POWER OF THE FORCE! (trumpets play out music at the front of the SW movies) to levitate up onto the table. And all in a straight line, too.

(This next part will make no sense tothose who((gasp!)) have never seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Live with it.)

One mousie - the origional - Ok, I don't really know, they're impossible to tell apart - stepped up and cleared his throat.

THIS is what he did:

He blinked.

He breathed.

He blinked again.

He breathed.

He blinked again.

He breathed.

He blinked again.

He breathed again.

He blinked.

He blinked twice.

He cleared his throat again.

Spreading his arms wide, he stepped up (again!) and whisped with all his mousie bousie soul, "Camelot!"

"No . . . " everyone gasped.

"Camelot!" another mousie repeated.

"No." every gasped. Again!

"Camelot." a third said.

"Don't you dare . . . " everyone warned in hushed tones. In synce. Yeah.

"CAM-EL-LOT!" sang the mice. Then they all began singing the Camelot song from the movie.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! NOOOOOOOOO! IT BURNS! IT SCARES! IT BRING TO MIND MENTAL IMAGES OF KILLER RABBITS! NOOOOOOOO!" everyone, even the sleeping people, screamed. In sync. Yeah.

Then they all ran out of the Inn. In sync. Yeah.

"Why'd they leave?" asked one mouse.

"Guess they liked us so much that they ran to spread the word!" another piped up.

Everyone just kind of stood milling around on the ground outside the Inn, having run full-speed down the stairs. They just stood there, milling.

And milling.

And milling.

And blinking.

And breathing.

In sync.

Yeah.

Dalamar broke away from the thong and wandered a few feet away. No one payed any attention. Dalamar was thinking. Hard. If he was supposed to rescue some people from a bunch of insane elementary-school-acting people, he'd need some followers to help him . . . right?

Oh so right.

"HEY!" yelled Dalamar. "LISTEN UP, PEOPLE!"

No one listened.

"PEOPLE!"

Still no one.

"PEOPLE!"

Nope. No one.

Dalamar sighed. Chanting, he waved his arms around dramatically, causing a flash of blue lightning to streak down from the sky and land right in the middle of the people.

Now everyone was listening.

"Ok!" Dalamar was greatly relieved. "I'm trying to rescue some people from some crazy dudes. Anyone want to help?"

"RESCUE PEOPLE FROM SOME CRAZY DUDES!" everyone yelled enthusiastically. In sync.

"It's not like we have anything better to do." a man remarked toa woman.

"OK!" laughed Dalamar. "Thank you, high charisma!"

Then he paused.

He had no idea where the crazy dudes were.

"Well, we need to comb this place! We're looking for -" here Dalamar paused and, because the author wanted him to, pulled out a list of paper. "A dark, curly-haired sl-woman, woman."

"Kitiara." themen muttured, grinning.

"A self-righteous idiotic honor-obsessed wanna-be Knight of Solamnia with serious reality issues."

"Sturm." the people muttered, rolling their eyes.

"And a half-elf who has no idea why he's here."

"Tanis." sighed the ladies.

"Good!" Dalamar grinned. "Now start combing!" He paused again.

"Uh oh." he murmered.

He had no idea where Flint the crazed dwarf was!

"Ticossi." he muttered the elven swear that the elves in the computer game always say when something bad happens, then turned away and began searching for Flint.

"Do you think we're being a bit too literal?" a man asked another.

They had all found some Very Big Combs just lying in a patch of grass and had proceeded to lift each comb (two people to a comb - these things were BIG) and literally began actually combing the grass.

The man looked at the progress they were making (absolutely none) in finding the people, than shrugged. "Nah. We're just following orders."

"Okay." the first guy shrugged and went back to combing the place.

How nice and neat it was!

I got the blinking/breathing bit from my brother, who always says that when describing people when he's the DM in the twisted games we play.

The song 'Camelot' is from MP.

The combing scene is from Spaceballs.

Where do you guys want Flint to be and what do you want him to be doing? Tell me your ideas and I'll give you a cookie!

Thanks!