“That’s it?” Asked Rat. “I was just starting to enjoy myself.”
“Well, how about we finish the tour over at the Cafeteria then?” Julie smiled at Rat. “You have been pretty patient.”
“Lead the way, Mistress Julie. I have some serious eating to do!” Declared Rat.
With Rat leading the way, the group moved quickly (because they were trying to keep up with rat) towards the Cafeteria.
After a few moments, Grimbledung was breathing heavily. “Is it much farther? I’m all tired out from carrying Rat all day, you know.”
“Well, no one’s going to carry you,” said Drimblerod, “I can guarantee that.”
“Don’t even think of me doing it. You’d have a stroke if I picked you up, the way you’ve been acting.”
“Why did you put it on the other side of the entire place?” Whined Grimbledung, “couldn’t you have put it on the closer side.
Big Julie looked down at Grimbledung and smiled. “It is on the closer side, you silly Gnome. We just started the tour on the wrong end.”
Grimbledung frowned but kept his comments to himself. For a moment at least. “That doesn’t even make sense. Why would we start the tour on the far end of the campus when we arrived at the near end of it?”
“That’s because it’s Springtime, and the sun comes up earlier, so it’s hotter on the east side of campus ...”
“But ....” tried Grimbledung
“So we started the tour on the opposite side to stay cool, of course.”
“Keep it up, Julie” coaxed Drimblerod, “at least you’re keeping him walking.”
“Now wait a minute, Big Julie. That doesn’t make sense. Why does Spring....” Grimbledung considered that for a moment, “Hey! It’s Fall anyhow!”
“Then we must have started at the near side after all,” suggested Julie.
“But ...”
Now Julie interrupted Grimbledung, “Ahhh, we’re here!”
(the rest of) Chapter Thirty[21]
Wherein Julie, the Gnomes and Rat
Finish the Tour and Eat Lunch
Walking across the campus they arrived at the Barn-cum-Cafeteria and Classrooms. The Cafeteria was run by quadruplet gourmet chefs; Klank, Clash, Rush, and Bonk. They were Gnolls from the same litter. The brothers snarled and barked at each other as they cooked. The barking and snarling was not reserved just for themselves; they continued both as they served heaping portions of food to anyone and everyone. Seconds were a mandatory part of the meal. “Eat you! EAT!” They commanded the students, and, much to their pleasure, Grimbledung and Rat as well.
“Grrrr! Finish that soup so you can have ham!” Klank eyed Grimbledung. “We made ham!” He declared proudly, “With oakapple glaze and yer gonna eat it!” He narrowed his eyes. They developed a dreamy look to them, “Yeah, we made ham!”
As Clash delivered yet another basket of fresh baked, heavily buttered, honey rolls to the table, Grimbledung tried to hug him. “No time for that. I got eight quiche in the oven!” He growled, although he did pause long enough for the back of his ear to be scratched. A moment’s foot thumping, and he was loping back to the kitchen.
Drimblerod had a difficult time keeping up with the numerous courses that were being served. “Is there anything after this?” He asked for the fourth time. Hoping the answer would be a resounding ‘no’.
Klank, pot of potato soup in the crook of his arm stopped and appraised the Gnome. “ ‘Course there is!” He growled, “What kinda place you take this for?” He squinted his eyes and growled. “Bonk! Brrrring this Gnome somethin’ to eat!” He then loped off, refilling bowls as he went.
“Drimblerod, if you’re full, just stop eating. Every time you ask one of them if there’s another course, they take it as a challenge,” warned Julie. “I know about Gnomes and their legendary ability to eat, but with the Gnoll Brothers, you have truly found your match.”
Drimblerod sat back in his chair. “I was trying to be polite. I don’t think I could eat another bite.” He exhaled slowly and placed his hands on his distended belly, “Stuffed. I’m a stuffed Gnome. Just hang me over your fireplace.”
“Tell that to one of them when they come by. That’s the best compliment you could give them,” Julie suggested.
“I think I’m full too,” said Grimbledung meekly.
“That’s something I never thought I’d hear” remarked Drimblerod.
Klank returned to their table. He was holding a tray that held what looked like an entire side of a rib cage from some large animal. The meat was falling off the bones as he walked. “Who wants rrrribs?” He snarled. “Ya gotta trrry the rrrribs. They was cooking since yesterrrday.” He flattened his ears against his head menacingly, “Anyone?”
Drimblerod held up his hands plaintively. “Good Gnoll, I would love a rib but ...” He didn’t get any farther. Klank’s ears perked up and he brandished a large fork from a sheath on his waist. He heaped several ribs onto Drimblerod’s plate. As the ribs hit, more meat fell off the bones. Quickly he shoveled meat from the platter onto the plate as well. It looked like an entire meal on its own- not the fifth course.
Watching them interact, Grimbledung tried a different course of action. “No more! I can’t take any more! You have beaten me, you devious Gnoll!” He let out a burp (not on purpose). “Not another bite, I beg you.” He looked at the Gnoll hopefully.
Klank appraised Grimbledung for a moment. “Fine, fine,” he barked. He then squinted at the Gnome. “What about an aperitif? Ya gots rrrroomn for one of them?”
“What’s an aperitif?” Asked Grimbledung warily.
The Gnoll held up his paw with two claws close together. “Just a little drink to help with digestion. Yerrr a big Gnome. I think ya can handle it.” A mischievous smile came across his face. “Prolly.”
The challenge was made!
Grimbledung squinted back at the Gnoll. “Bring the drink. I’ll down it.” His eyes grew wide, “It’s a small drink right?”
Klank barked a laugh, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. “Don’t you worry. Klank’ll rrrroll you out if need be.” He called over his shoulder, “Aperitifs, Table Six!”
Another of the Gnolls, yipped in response.
“On its way” he said as he loped off, tray in paw, searching for empty plates to refill.
“Grim” hissed Drimblerod, “eat a rib before he comes back! You too Rat!”
Rat shook his head. “My stomach’s not much bigger than my head, you silly Gnome. How much do you think I can eat?”
But Rat, You’ve had a bunch of rolls and three servings of meat. That’s more than the size of your head,” countered Grimbledung.
“Not if you chew your food really well,” said Rat smugly.
“Oh.” Grimbledung thought for a moment. “Really?” He thought some more. “Say, that doesn’t make much sense.”
Julie shook her head, “Oh, give me a rib. I’ll eat a couple.” She was also quite full after several courses but she had been pacing herself; she knew the Gnoll Brothers’ game.
Bonk (or at least one of the Gnolls that wasn’t Klank) approached the table. He had a tray over his head. On it was a bottle of a bright orange liquid, several small glasses, and to Drimblerod’s horror, a plate of dark cookies. “Aperrrtif?” He asked smoothly.
“Sure” replied Drimblerod warily. “I’ll have one.”
Bonk lowered the tray to the table, “And a home-made cookie?” He said nonchalantly.
“I don’t know if I should,” mumbled Drimblerod.
“It’s nice and thin with a coat of chocolate to help it go down,” offered Bonk. “One cookie.” He growled.
Drimblerod felt as if he were haggling with Akita. It was disconcerting even though the Gnolls, and as far as he knew, Akita’s condition, were not contagious. It was always the specter of Lycanthropy that kept people in line around Akita. He had on several occasions actually nipped at people and even though they didn’t become Werewolves, the general consensus was “What if I’
m the first?” While he was thinking, Bonk was patiently waiting. Waiting and panting.
“Well?” He asked.
“One then,” agreed Drimblerod sociably.
In a flash, Bonk wheeled on Grimbledung, “Whatabout you?” He growled. “Want an aperrrtif?”
Grimbledung had a rib sticking out of his mouth, his eyes grew wide. “Want a what?” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I don’t know if I can. I’m having enough trouble with this rib.”
“Eat the meat, not the bones!” Said Bonk, revealing rows of sharp white teeth. “Finish off yer meal with an aperrrtif. It’ll help ya digest it.” He took the rib bone from Grimbledung’s mouth, dropped it on his plate, and handed him a small glass, it’s good fer ya,” he barked.
He picked up the bottle of orange liquid. It seemed to glow it was so bright. He poured some into the glasses on the tray then filled Grimbledung’s glass to the rim. Cautiously Grimbledung smelled it. “Melons?” He guessed.
Bonk gestured at the now-filled glass. “That there’s called Melonchello. Good stuff. Just dangerous. We don’t serrrve it to the students.”
Grimbledung moved the glass away from his lips, “Dangerous?”
“Only in that you’ll end up drinking a whole bottle because it’s so smooth.” Julie tipped her glass up and drained it in one gulp. She raised an eyebrow at Grimbledung.
Bonk started banging his paw on the table, “Go! Go! Go!” He growled.
From various points around the room, his three brothers looked in his direction and picked up the chant. It was disturbing and yet also, strangely, persuasive.
Steeling himself for the harsh bite of alcohol that usually accompanied most drinks, he tilted the glass and downed the drink. It ran down his throat like peaches daintily placed on a silk sheet resting in the shade on warm summer’s evening. There was no bite, not even a nip- or even a peck of alcohol for that matter. “This is alcoholic?” He asked unconvinced.
Bonk’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “Wait for it”. He cocked his head to the side as he gazed at the Gnome.
“Ohhh. I’m all warm on the insides,” cooed Grimbledung. He smacked his lips several times. The melon flavor lingered in his mouth but nothing else. A warm glow emanating from his belly was the only indication that the drink was alcoholic. From how the glow spread, very alcoholic. “Say, how about another shot of that stuff. I think I drank that last one too fast.”
“Ya had yer one drink. Here; have a mint cookie to go with it.” Bonk placed a cookie on Grimbledung’s plate, and for the first time of the meal, Bonk (or any of the Gnolls for that matter) left without providing seconds.
Drimblerod sipped his drink approvingly. “This is some smooth stuff. We need a couple of bottles of this to make the ride home more enjoyable.” He, too, smacked his lips when his drink was done. “Maybe three bottles, just in case there’s traffic.”
“I think we can arrange that,” said Julie amicably. She then switched to a more business-like tone. “So, we have a deal then. If you put together a variety of wands for the students and bring them over, we can set them up in the Parchment Shop. I’ll buy them in bulk from you and then we can adjust as we go.”
Drimblerod looked at his partner who nodded at him. “Sounds good to us. How about next week we load up the wagon and come out?”
She stuck out her hand and Drimblerod slapped it. “That works for me. Come by on Moonsday and we’ll work out any unforeseen details.” Drimblerod nodded and Julie slapped his hand in return.
“Now there’s only one more thing to work out,” said Grimbledung smiling. Both Julie and Drimblerod peered at him- it was a faux pas to alter a deal once it was accepted. They looked at him expectedly. “Is it two or three bottles that will accompany us back to Aution?”
He licked the inside of the glass. “Can I keep the glass? Drinking from a bottle, that’s the first step to degradation,” he added haughtily.
Drimblerod shook his head. “Either will work, Grim.” Then he too licked the inside of his glass. “Whichever Miss Julie decides upon.” He looked at her hopefully.
“We’ll make it three, but only if you agree to call me Big Julie. I haven’t been called Miss since I was eight.”
Grimbledung stood, “Sounds great Big Julie.” The warmth had started to fade from his belly and he was intent on getting back in the wagon and into the bottles of Melonchello.
The three of them (Rat was back to being carried) made their way back to the front of the Gristmill. As they came around the side of the Gristmill, Drimblerod was sure the Gargoyle on the left moved his head to watch them approach. Grimbledung placed Rat at the head of the wagon, drew his wand and hacked it at Rat. After RatShambler was fully formed, he deftly attached the harness to him.
Drimblerod was already in the wagon as Grimbledung climbed aboard. “Well, I have to say” began Drimblerod, “that was one of the most entertaining and productive days we’ve had in a while.” He smiled broadly and hoped that it wasn’t TOO obvious he was stalling. “Yes, very productive.” So far, no one had delivered any bottles of the orange goodness.
“Me too,” agreed Julie. “See you next week” she turned and as she started for the double doors, both dutifully opened.
“Drim!” Whined Grimbledung.
“Maybe she forgot” his partner tried to assure him, although in all honesty, Drimblerod was also crestfallen. He looked sadly as Big Julie entered the Gristmill. A Dwarfling trotted past her, coming out of the windmill. He had a covered basket in his hands. “What a woman.” Remarked Drimblerod.
“You’re telling me” agreed Grimbledung albeit dejectedly. He was once again searching the skies for clouds.
“Sorry. I had to find a basket to put them in,” puffed the Dwarfling, “here you go.” He held the basket up as high as his arms would reach. Drimblerod bent over and took the basket from his hands. It was heavier than he expected.
“Thanks, kid,” said Drimblerod as he hefted the basket between him and his partner. “Let’s go home Rat.” With a snort, RatShambler began to walk off slowly.
“Ohhh!” Said Grimbledung, “lookit that one!” He said pointing at a cloud.
Drimblerod elbowed his friend, “No, look at that one.”
Grimbledung looked down at the covered basket. His partner had flipped back the lid revealing four squat bottles filled with bright orange liquid, as well as several ribs and honey rolls. There were also two fresh shot glasses. “I think I’m in love with a Gnoll,” he said.
Chapter Thirty One
Wherein the Gnomes Return to the Shop.
And Grimbledung is killed
It was dark when the Gnomes got back to the shop; the trip back was decidedly slower due to several shortcuts Drimblerod insisted they try after much of the alcohol was drunk. Finally, out of exasperation, RatShambler took control of the reins in his teeth and the two Gnomes sat in the back and drank the Melonchello to pass the time.
At first, they planned to bring three bottles back with them for later.
After a little while, two seemed an appropriate number; one each.
Shortly after that, it was then decided that one bottle for a special occasion to be named later was appropriate. It was a unanimous vote.
By the time they arrived, all four bottles were gone.
“Whaddayasay we close for the rest dof the say?” Slurred Grimbledung as he leaned on the door for support. He had a route to the counter all planned out and was waiting for the room to swing in the right direction to make a break for it. “I donthink I should be handling money.” He made his move and the floor suddenly tilted in the opposite direction, leaning heavily he tried to counter the listing but was unsuccessful. He was, he thought giddily, in the shop but not any closer to the counter. With his back against the wall he squinted at the counter. “Think we can get Nulu to carry us to the back?”
“Ish night. We’re already closed.” Drimblerod, now at the door himself shook his head. It felt as if his head were full of oil. The room rat
tled back and forth even when he was sure he had stopped moving his head. “She won’t be coming by today. I told her we’d be gone the day. So for the day we’re on our own for the day.” He hiccupped. “Today,” he finished proudly. “So ...” he continued as he stepped into the room, still holding the door for support. He reached out his hand for the counter which was completely out of reach. “... So we have to make it on our own because Nulu isn’t coming by today.” He made a circle out of his finger and thumb. He closed one eye and aimed down his arm at the counter. “Now I’ve got you!” He let go of the door and made a dash for the counter, still squinting down his arm. He tried to keep the counter in the circle of his fingers and made it three paces before he fell over. Still holding his hand out in front of him, he crawled to the counter. “Ah ha!” He proclaimed as the side of the counter filled his field of view through his fingers.
Grimbledung slid down the wall and sat. “Say!” He exclaimed, “I’ve a great idea!” He hiccupped. “Why don’t we have Nulu carry us to the back?”
Drimblerod rolled onto his side and sighted at his partner down his arm and through his fingers, “That does sound likes a good idea.” He agreed. “I see you!” He added triumphantly.
“So when is she going to come get us?” Asked Grimbledung expectedly.
“Who?”
“Nulu, of course.”
“Nulu isn’t coming” said Drimblerod.
“Of course she’s not coming,” agreed Grimbledung, “I hear she’s got the day off or something. She’s not coming by. That’s what I hear anyway.”
“Well, if you heard it, it must be true,” said Drimblerod. He rolled on his back. “I think I may stay here.”
Grimbledung snored in response.
“Grim! You awake?” He asked as he turned his head to view his partner. He held his hand up to his face and looked through a ring made by finger and thumb. “Maybe we should wait here for Nulu to come get us.”
Soon, both Gnomes were snoring contentedly on the floor of the shop. Door, as it had done several times in the past, quietly closed and latched shut. Door wasn’t aware of very much but he was certain that the owners of the shop were, on the whole, odd. It shuddered in its frame and waited for morning to arrive. It really had nothing better to do.
They Were The Best of Gnomes, They Were The Worst of Gnomes (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 1) Page 23
