“So nobody gets killed in your war?”
“Heavens no. Not on purpose, anyway. What kind of barbarians do you think we are?”
Paulie began laughing. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. “Why don’t you just not surrender if you get shot?”
A full-on gasp went through all of the soldiers on both sides.
“Sir,” Butts said in disbelief, “that would be dishonest.”
“Time out is over in thirty seconds,” Loudspeaker said.
“All right, boys—”
“And—”
“—and girls! Give me a chance, will ya?”
“Thank you.”
“Sheesh,” the foreman said. “Everyone get to cover!”
The pattering of feet fled in all directions.
Paulie picked up Mr. Biscuits as best he could and shuffled into the building. The gnomes were all gathered to the front, so it seemed as safe a place as any for the time being.
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Biscuits. It’s just a bit of a bump. It’ll sting for a little while, but you’ll be fine in the morning. I’m sure of it.”
Mr. Biscuits licked Paulie’s face.
They got into the building and turned toward the benches that were off to the left of the main entrance.
Paulie sat down and noticed a gnome standing next to one of the plants. He was sporting long hair, a five-o-clock shadow, a tie-dyed shirt, hemp pants, and a pair of ratty tennis shoes.
That could only mean one thing: Garden Gnome.
“Hey, dude.”
“Who are you?” asked Paulie.
“Name’s Clicker, man.”
“Clicker?”
“Right on, brother.”
The rat-tat-tat of gun fire picked up again as Butts closed the main door.
“Hey,” Butts said to Clicker, “you’re not suppose to be in here. There’s a war going on.”
“Chill, dude,” Clicker replied. “Just doing my job, man. Remember, it’s your war, not mine, dig? Besides, you wouldn’t want all these plants to die, would ya?”
“No,” Butts said with a firm shake of his head. “That would be terrible.”
“Cool, man. I’ll just get on with it and stay outta your way.”
“You do that,” Butts said without much authority.
“I gotta say, man,” Clicker said to Butts, “you seem uptight. Like stressed to the max, if you know what I mean, man.”
Butts sighed and pointed his weapon at the floor.
“You don’t know the half of it. Everyone is always picking on me. Nothing I do seems right.”
“That’s a drag.”
“Tell me about it,” Butts said. “Haven’t slept in two days.”
“And I bet you’re hungry, huh?”
“Starving,” said Butts. “Last meal I had was at lunch yesterday it was just a bit of a gnome pie that was shared amongst four of us.”
“You must be bummin’ big time, man.”
“I guess so,” Butts said with a shrug.
“Listen, dude,” Clicker said, “my old lady made some nice brownies yesterday. Want me to hook you up with a couple of them?”
“Really?” Butts said, straightening up. “I love brownies.”
The mention of food got Paulie’s stomach growling.
“Hey, Clicker,” Paulie said hopefully, “I don’t suppose you have any extras in there?”
“Sorry, man, just enough for my new friend here,” Clicker said winking at Paulie. Then he called out to another Garden Gnome to bring over his bag.
Butts wolfed down the brownies and instantly seemed to relax. He leaned back against the wall and slowly let himself sink into a sitting position with his eye lids falling to half-mast.
“Wow, those were great,” Butts said.
Paulie peeked in the bag and saw a bunch more. Clicker was looking up at him and shaking his head, “no.” Then he pointed at Butts.
Butts looked much more calm than before. Almost too calm.
“Man,” Butts said in a relaxed voice, “I am diggin’ them brownies.”
Then Paulie got it. Those were funny brownies. Still, after all he’d been through recently, having his brain intoxicated with the Garden Gnome’s special brand of delectable treats sounded wonderful.
“Hey, dude,” Clicker said, handing the bag of brownies to Butts, “I’ll bet your friends outside are pretty hungry too. Why don’t you take the rest of these to your buds so they can get their food on too?”
“Thanks,” Butts said, pointing at Paulie, “but I’m supposed to be watching him.”
“I can watch him for ya.”
“You’d do that for me?” Butts pushed himself up and hugged Clicker. “You’re a good dude, man.”
As Butts turned and started for the door, brownies in hand, Clicker turned to Paulie.
“Okay, dude, lets get out of here before he figures out he’s been duped,” Clicker chuckled. “Or, more accurately, doped.”
“Obviously those were special brownies.”
“Totally, man.”
“But it affected him instantly,” Paulie said.
“Fast-acting weed, dude. It’s the latest rage.”
“Ah,” Paulie said and then tilted his head and asked, “Why are you helping me?”
“The portal dude called me and asked me to like, save you, man. We went to high school together, so I was like, ‘Yeah, okay, brother.’”
“Good enough for me,” Paulie said and began shuffling down the hallway with Mr. Biscuits beside him.
“They’ll be after us as soon as that dude’s boss figures out what happened,” Clicker said, looking over his shoulder.
“How far is it to the trolley station?”
“It’s right across the street,” Clicker answered as they continued their run through the hallway.
Then Paulie heard the clattering of a hundred footsteps coming up behind them, along with the bellowing of an angry foreman yelling, “I’ll have your job for this, Butts!”
Paulie, Mr. Biscuits, Clicker, and a few other Garden Gnomes hit the exit on the other side of the building. They burst through the door and headed for the trolley station.
Paulie looked over his shoulder.
The woodland gnomes were now hot on their heels.
The magnetic shackles had already made running a challenge, but gazing back caused Paulie to lose his balance.
He fell.
“I probably should have taken them things off you, man,” Clicker said.
Paulie grimaced. “I didn’t know you could.”
“Yeah, man. I kinda forgot.”
“We’ve got you now!” the woodland gnome foreman yelled.
“Uh oh,” Clicker said. “Busted.”
Paulie slowly got to his feet, brushed off his pants, stared directly at the foreman, and said, “I’ve had enough of this. Take these damn restraints off me immediately or there will be trouble.”
“Not going to happen, vampire,” the foreman responded.
Right behind the sea of woodland gnomes came a flood of city gnomes.
“Drop your weapons, woodlands,” one of the city gnomes said, clearly the same gnome that had been using the loudspeaker before.
“Never,” the woodland foreman replied matter-of-factly.
“Don’t be a fool,” the city gnome replied. “This doesn’t have to be a paint bath.”
“They’ll be just as much paint on your side as there will be on ours, city dweller.”
“Sir, man,” Butts said tugging at the foreman’s sleeve.
“I’m busy, Butts.”
“But, sir—”
“Not now, Butts. Will someone get Butts out of here?”
“But, sir, man!”
“Oh, for the love of The Twelve,” the foreman yelled. “We need another time out.”
“Time out called,” the city manager confirmed. “That’s your last one!”
“Okay, Butts. Now that you made me use our last time out, w
hat’s so danged important?”
In reply, Butts pointed to the big display screen located above the trolley station.
The screen showed the feed from the Underworld Developers Conference.
Paulie had watched the UWDC a few times in as many years. It was where Effle Computers presented their latest technologies and tried to push Gnoogle, and the Orc-run Microsquish, out of the limelight, if only for a little while.
All the gnomes, both woodland and city, stopped and looked up at the screen just as the CEO of Effle Computers, Sleezilfin Werkender, walked out onto the stage.
“Everyone shut up so we can hear,” the foreman barked.
“Today is going to be a revolutionary day,” Werkender began as the applause died down. He pulled a small, globe-like item out of his pocket and tossed in to the air. It settled just above his head, hovering. He then walked around the stage while the globe followed him. “Welcome to the new world of Life Recorder. It will follow you everywhere you go and record your entire life without you having to lift a finger. Share your experiences, your thoughts, your world!”
The gnomes watching the screen in Hubintegler stood dumbfounded.
“This is a disaster,” the foreman moaned.
“Agreed,” the city manager replied. “We need to get busy. We can’t let those damn elves outdo us.”
“Danged straight,” the foreman agreed.
“As of right now the war is over,” the city manager claimed. “We’ve got to get back to work. I’ll radio my CEO and let him know the situation.”
“I’ll notify my director,” said the foreman.
Paulie didn’t exactly know what had just happened, but it looked like the elves had just single-handedly ended the gnome war. So Paulie could get back to his life, such as it was.
“Listen,” Paulie said. “I’m glad you all are friends again, but before you go could someone please take off these bracelets?”
“Almost forgot about you,” the foreman said. “I guess there’s no point in detaining you any further since you won’t be building an alliance now that the war’s over.”
“Never was building an alliance,” Paulie muttered as Butts undid the cuffs and shackles.
Paulie then looked around to find Clicker and the other Garden Gnomes. He spotted Clicker across the street. The Garden Gnome waved at Paulie and then slipped around the side of the portal building.
The sun was beginning to show its light, causing Paulie to yawn. If he didn’t get some food and some sleep soon, he believed he would go on a rampage. Mr. Biscuits looked equally as tired and Paulie had little doubt that the werepup was hungry.
He was checking the little welt on Mr. Biscuits when the city manager and woodland foreman appeared next to him.
“Mr. Hardly,” said the foreman.
“My name is Paulie Vergen.”
“Right, sorry. Listen, we were just talking,” the foreman pointed at the city manager, “and it turns out that what you were saying about not being here to seek an alliance was true.”
“Oh, it was?”
The foreman cleared his throat. “I’m trying to apologize here.”
Paulie sighed. “Go on.”
“Anyway, we’re real sorry about the misunderstanding and we hope there are no hard feelings.”
“Yeah, okay,” Paulie said, seeing no point in holding a grudge.
“We have a small favor to ask,” the city manager said.
“After what you just put me and Mr. Biscuits through, you’re going to ask me for a favor?”
“That’s right,” the city manager replied. “Is there any chance we could get a picture taken together mounted on your horsey to commemorate the ending of the war? We’ll make it worth your while.”
“Yeah,” the foreman said. “We’ll give you and your horsey a free trolley ride to Fez.”
Paulie blinked.
“We’ll also throw in a hundred bucks for your trouble,” the foreman added, hopefully.
Paulie wanted to say “no,” but as much as this adventure had already cost him, he really couldn’t afford to turn them down.
“And we’ll give you the key to the city for the day,” the city manager added.
“What would that mean?”
“You’ll get a tour of the city, the gardens, and everything.”
That sounded terrific, but he and Mr. Biscuits were already running behind schedule as it was. They had to get on the trolley before it left for the morning.
“When does the trolley leave?”
“Butts?”
“Normally it leaves at 8:30 every morning, dude,” Butts said, checking his GnomePad. “But this says that there was a cable breakage about five miles south that is still being repaired, so the morning leg of the trip has been canceled. Cable snaps are a drag, man.”
“So what time is it leaving, Butts?”
“4 o’clock.”
Paulie groaned and sat down on the bench. Mr. Biscuits stood in front of him, wagging his tail.
“So, how about that picture, Mr. Vergen?”
“Fine,” Paulie said while grabbing the leash. “Let’s get this over with.”
The manager and foreman climbed up on the small bench, hopped over to the larger bench, and then jumped onto Mr. Biscuits’ back.
“Can we hold the leash?”
Paulie rolled his eyes and handed the leash over.
“Okay, Butts,” the foreman said, “take the picture.”
“Right on, man, sir.”
At that moment Paulie heard a “pffft”, squinted at the rising sun, and then shook his head.
All the gnomes still in the area gasped as they took in the scene. Their leaders were holding a leash that was attached to a silver-studded, black leather collar that was wrapped around the neck of a human male, who happened to be naked and on all fours.
Suddenly, there was a series of FlashyClicks flashes, which seemed to jolt the manager and foreman out of their shock.
“For The Twelve’s sake, Butts, stop taking pictures!”
“Wasn’t me, man. It was that elf over there.”
Paulie turned to see an elf wearing a “press” badge.
“Who the hell are you?” asked the foreman.
“Elessar Pallanén,” the elf answered with a big smile. “I’m a reporter for the Elvish Inquirer. I was sent here to record your reaction to Effle’s announcement, but I think this story is far more interesting.”
“Now just you wait a minute,” the foreman said as he dropped the leash and jumped off Burt’s back. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Never is,” the elf replied with a wink as he hopped into his Humbee, which, as Paulie remembered it, ran off the electromagnetic force of Ononokin.
“We’ll be the laughingstock of Hubentegler when this hits the UnderNet,” the city manager sobbed as the newsman’s Humbee hovered away.
“Ah, quit yer whining,” the foreman said after throwing a pebble toward the elf’s departing vehicle.
“Uh, Paulie,” Burt said standing up. “Where are we?”
“Hubintegler. We were in the middle of a war between the woodland gnomes and the city gnomes. They thought I was an ambassador.”
“Uh huh,” Burt said, naked for the world to see.
“Can you cover him up or something?” the foreman pleaded. “I don’t need my boys…and especially girls…seeing that thing.”
“We’re okay with it,” one of the girl soldiers yelled out.
Paulie handed Burt the bag of clothes and motioned him toward the trolley station.
NOT IN FEZ
The local feeds showed no sign of the vampire or the prince, so Stelan scoured the rest of the UnderNet for the next few hours.
He was about to continue on to Yezan when he spotted a new video up on GnomeTube of Hughbarian in a rather precarious situation with two gnomes sitting on his back. The shame alone should kill the prince once he got his memory back, Stelan thought with a giggle, and those blasted gnomes would
be the laughing stock of the Underworld for some time to come.
“So, you’re in Hubintegler,” Stelan said with a groan.
To say that Stelan was not fond of gnomes was a bit of an understatement. The term “hate” was more fitting. The way they meddle in the natural order of things and stick their noses where they shouldn’t was only the least of their faults. Their “little” mistakes were known to result in “large” repercussions, and their typical response of a shrug and an offer of apology only exacerbated Stelan’s distaste for their kind.
But a job was a job.
He closed up his attaché case and headed out the door.
After a quick hotel check-out, Stelan was standing in line at the portal. His Elite Club membership did little good here. Fortunately, the line was short.
“Tell me your portal is not still down,” Stelan said to the ogre on duty.
“Okay, the portal is not still down.”
“It’s not?”
“Nope.”
“Great,” Stelan said, feeling a smidgen of positiveness. “I need to get to Hubintegler.”
“Hubintegler portal is down.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“I see,” Stelan said. “Any other means of transportation for Hubintegler?”
“Trolley,” the ogre pointed.
“Wonderful,” Stelan said. “I do so love riding the trolley.”
“Don’t care,” stated the ogre and then turned away.
During his wait in the trolley line, he pulled up the details of the Hubintegler portal outage. It was apparently a major situation that promised to keep the portal offline until about midnight. That meant that the prince and the vampire had to either wait for the portal or they had to take the trolley to Fez.
According to the map that the vampire had planned out, the two were heading to Fez. But that could have just been a ruse in case they were followed. Stelan was well aware that this Paulie Vergen knew the true identity of the prince and was actually planning to collect the reward money from the king of Argan.
That thought made Stelan growl a little.
The entire ordeal was a pain because there was no way for Stelan to know what the vampire had planned. He assumed that since the two were in Hubintegler that the map they’d put in place was indeed their route.
Comedic Fantasy Bundle #1: 4 Hilarious Adventures (Tales from the land of Ononokin) Page 27
