“Sorry?”
“He asking what you does if der puppy runs while you is holdin der string thing,” Kone said.
“Oh, well, just give it a little yank and he’ll stop.”
Redler glanced at the Ogre. “Hem dooer leedle yunk und edle pop der poopies heed oof.”
“Him said dat if I pull the string too hard dat der puppy’s head will pop off. I wouldn’t want dat ter happen, mister.”
“Right. Well, everything looks to be good here and I should really get back on the road. I’m trying to get to Planoontik before morning.”
“Oookie. Yer gehd oot okee?”
“Pardon?”
“Him wants to know if you can get dat house fing out of the grass okay or not.”
“I think so.”
Gappy walked back to his wheely engine and started it up. He then carefully moved it up onto the road as the Ogre, Human, and puppy moved up beside him.
“Noose floop bing.”
“Sorry?” said Gappy with a frown.
“I dunno dat one either,” said Kone, shrugging, “but I fink him saying dat he likes yer house.”
“Yerp.”
“Oh, thank you. I just got it today. Are you two headed to Planoontik also?”
“Mebbe,” Redler said. “Dorno yoot.”
“We don’t know yet,” Kone stated, even though Gappy had understood that. “Either dat or down to Fez.”
“Dukmoonhome.”
“Yeah, or Dakmenhem. Him likes dat place.”
“I’ve never been,” said Gappy, “but I hear it’s nice.”
“Mebbe.”
“You know,” Gappy said before leaving, “you two look kind of familiar.”
“We get dat a lot,” Kone said. “You prolly saw us on der TV thing.”
“Yes! That’s right.” Gappy clapped his hands together. “I remember now. You were the two that helped that Bob the Zombie guy, right?”
“Mebbe.”
“We was dere, yep.”
“Whatever happened to that guy?”
“Well, he…” Kone started.
“Nerp!” Redler interrupted, wagging his finger at Kone.
“Oh, dat right. We not supposed ter talk about dem fings. Der’s a book out about it, though.”
“I’ll have to pick that up,” Gappy said, smiling. “Imagine me running into two celebrities my first day out of town. That’s amazing.”
“Yerp, we is celeberties!”
“Mebbe.”
Gappy considered asking for their autographs but decided that it may feel odd. Besides, he wasn’t sure if either of them could actually write. “I truly have to go. Please make sure to keep an eye on Pooper there. I would hate for him to get hurt.”
“Okay, mister. Sorry for da troubles.”
“No trouble at all,” Gappy said as he gave the puppy one more look. “Nice to meet you all.”
“You, too.”
“Yer toe.”
“My toe?”
“He was saying, ‘you, too,’ like I did.”
“Oh, right. Goodbye!”
Gappy drove away, happy that he had gotten the clutch right the first time. He continued down the road a little ways to make sure that he had cleared the hearing distance of the two fellows before he resumed his singing.
Tinkerers, Tinkerers
We’re Gnomes through and through
Tinkerers, Oh Tinkerers
Designs and blueprints ring us true
Dum-dee-da-da-dum-dee-dah!
Dum-dee-da-da-dum dah doo!
IT'S GOOD TO BE QUEEN
Tootz Gibdawdle stood in the big office that overlooked the flurry of workers on the open floor below.
There were all shapes and sizes on her crew. Orcs, Ogres, Humans, Dwarfs, and even an Elf. What there weren’t were any Gnomes. Technically, there were Gnomes working for her, as they had specialized skills that were required of a mechanical engineering firm, but it didn’t mean that she needed to see any of them. They were kept in a room underground where they had their own entrance and exit, which happened to run parallel to the sewage system.
Tootz had a thing about having Gnomes working for Contraptions, LLC. The thing was: she didn’t like them.
Oddly enough, Tootz herself was a Gnome. She considered herself Gnome-enough for this outfit, at least from the standpoint of visibility. And seeing that she owned the company, it was her prerogative as to who she saw and who she didn’t. Local and government laws disagreed with that mindset, but they had difficulty pushing anything against her because it was her own race that she was prejudiced against. Plus, Contraptions, LLC was the only company in town that built gadgets, and gadgets were always in need in a place like Planoontik.
Moving back to her desk, she opened her ePad. It was the high-end Elf-1100 model that barely rivaled its GnomePad counterpart, but it was Elf-made and that meant it was good enough for Tootz. Not that she had a thing for Elves. No, again, it was that she didn’t have a thing for Gnomes. Were it up to her, she would classify herself as an undersized Human and be done with it. Sadly, that wasn’t a believable option.
She pressed the button on her intercom and said, “What does the owner of the only gadgets company in all of Planoontik have to do to get a cup of herbal tea around here?”
“Right away, ma’am,” replied the eager voice of the Human male that was Tootz’s administrative assistant.
Within moments he turned the corner and carefully set the mug on the edge of her desk.
“Two sugars, ma’am,” he said.
She smiled and looked him over appraisingly.
Scrumptious was a good hire. That wasn’t his actual name, of course. She never bothered to commit his actual name to memory. What did that matter? All she cared about was the fact that he was tall, muscular, gorgeous, and he wore tight suits that revealed everything he had to offer. He wasn’t the brightest fellow she’d ever met. Far from it. But sometimes brains lost out to pretty.
“You may go, Scrumptious,” she said. He bowed and spun around. “Slowly,” she added, causing him to significantly decrease his walking speed, and then she visually devoured his firm buttocks as he exited the room.
Tootz took a sip of the tea. It was bland, but that’s what you got when you hired for looks instead of skill.
Still, she thought, it was good to be queen.
Contraptions, LLC had been her baby for 25 years. There was no competition. She’d made sure of that over the course of time. Even when she had started the business, she undercut the already established firms until their worth was so low that she was able to buy them out. Then she took the contracts as her own, and slowly raised her prices to a point where she could live the good life.
Other firms came along after that, but one-by-one they failed too. Tootz used all sorts of methods for ruining her competitors. Bribery, muscle, destruction, deception, bad-mouthing, fear tactics, and any other trick she could think up to make sure that hers was the only option in town for gadgetry.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes, Scrumptious?”
“Mr. Trapshure is on the TalkyThingy for you.”
“No rest for the weary,” she said and then flicked her hand at her assistant. “Put him through.” She sighed and set down her tea. “Good afternoon, Mr. Trapshure,” she answered in a pleasant voice. “I trust that you received your twisty handles this morning?”
“They’re the wrong color,” Mr. Trapshure said in his snotty way. Always snooty or snotty, or both, was Mr. Trapshure. “I asked for brushed metal. These are brass. I hate brass.”
“I do apologize, Mr. Trapshure,” Tootz said while looking at her fingernails. “It says here on the order form that you wanted them in brass, and it’s signed by you.”
“I never signed any such thing. I called in and made the request.”
“For brass, it seems.”
“No, not for brass. I would never order brass. Brass is so, well, brassy, and I don’t like that. I wanted brushed met
al.” He was winding up to the pitch of a steaming teapot. “Now, what are you going to do about it?”
This was probably her favorite part of the job. She loved it when customers complained. In fact, she enjoyed it so much that she sometimes purposefully changed orders to get them to call and moan at her.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Mr. Trapshure,” she said sweetly. “We’ll have someone come and pick up the brass twisty handles straight away.”
“Good.”
“And we’ll give you a full refund of your money.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice.”
“And then you can find another company to build a fresh set of your precious twisty handles in a nice brushed metal finish.”
There was a pause. “But, Ms. Gibdawdle, there is no other company that does what you do.”
“Is that so, Mr. Trapshure?” she said innocently.
“You’re the only company in town and you know it,” he stated.
“Well that rather puts you in a precarious position, Mr. Trapshure, wouldn’t you say?”
“You’re telling me that I’m stuck with the brass twisty handles, Ms. Gibdawdle?”
“I’m glad we understand each other, Mr. Trapshure.”
“You realize that this is a poor business practice, I hope?”
“I’m terribly sorry you feel that way, Mr. Trapshure. I will be sure to have a word with our sales staff in regard to your account.”
“I should hope so.”
“Yes, I’ll insist that they increase our prices by twenty percent on all of your future orders.”
“You’re going to charge me twenty percent more due to your mistake? That’s unreasonable, Ms. Gibdawdle!”
“You know, Mr. Trapshure,” Tootz said softly, “I do believe you’re correct. Charging you twenty percent more is unreasonable.”
“Finally, some sense.”
“Let’s make it twenty-five percent, Mr. Trapshure. Unless, of course, you’d prefer thirty percent?”
Silence.
“Mr. Trapshure?”
She thought certain that she heard him whimpering. Then, he said, “Fine.”
“Nice doing business with you, Mr. Trapshure.”
“I’m sure it is,” he said and then the line went dead.
“Scrumptious,” Tootz called out, “have Sales up Mr. Trapshure’s account by twenty-five percent and bring me some fresh tea. This cup has gotten cold.”
PLANOONTIK
The day was just dawning on the town of Planoontik as Gappy sped down the main road. His eyes soaked in the entirety of the city, which looked to him like one of those paintings by Yoorahd Uuzette, the Orc painter who used massive hammers to smash paint buckets so that they splattered their colors against a gargantuan canvas in haphazard ways. Legend had it that Mr. Uuzette had discovered this “talent” after going into a rage over a Gnome painting crew who had used the wrong color on one of his office walls. An argument had ensued and he picked up a hammer and tried to smash the little guys, but they kept dodging around paint cans. Once he had tired himself out, the wall was a sloppy mess. On any normal day, it would have been left to dry, covered with primer, and then repainted. But on that particular day there happened to be an artist agent walking through the halls. She stopped to see the splattered wall and a flash of brilliance went through her head. Two months later, Mr. Uuzette was traveling the country, demonstrating his technique and raking in millions. The Gnomes, too, made their fair share of the cut since Mr. Uuzette required them to work him into a rage. Fortunately, through all the years of touring, Mr. Uuzette had never successfully squashed one of the buggers.
Planoontik was a small town compared to Hubintegler, of course, but it had a certain charm to it. Instead of industrial skyscrapers and glass-covered offices, the buildings here were a mixture of brick and wood. Aside from the front entrance to the city, which was open to the road that led to it, the rest of the city was surrounded by trees. It felt almost like the towns Gappy had seen in pictures of the Upperworld, except of course for the poles that stuck out of the ground carrying wires in a network of connectivity.
As he neared the entrance to the town, he noticed a campground off to the right. Considering that he couldn’t rightly drive the wheely engine down the main road with the house in tow, he turned into the campground and found a temporary spot to park.
After shutting everything down, he walked into the main office.
Behind the desk stood an Ogre who was wearing a sundress. Gappy had never seen that before, but he’d never been out of Hubintegler either, so he assumed that it was normal.
“Yeah?” said the clerk in a voice that was deeper than Gappy had expected.
“Hello. I’m looking to store my wheely engine and house.”
“How long you parking for?”
“Hopefully just one or two nights. I’m looking for property, you see?” Gappy was all smiles. “I’m planning to start a mechanical engineering company.”
“Don’t care,” said the Ogre with what appeared to be a sneer. “One thousand dollars.”
Gappy nearly choked. “One thousand?”
“Each night. Dat’s how much it costs to park here.”
“That’s a lot of money,” Gappy replied, his breath catching in his throat.
“Yep,” the Ogre said without flinching. “One thousand. Cash only.”
“I think I’ll just park outside of town instead.”
“Five hundred, then?”
“What’s that?”
“You pay five hundred?” the Ogre replied.
“I thought you said it was one thousand?”
“We’s negotiating.”
“Ah,” said Gappy, recognizing that this was his second negotiation in as many days. “Five hundred is still a little much for me, but thank you for making an offer.”
“Thirty-seven bucks and fifty cents?”
“Seriously?”
“Take it or leave it,” the Ogre said hopefully.
“Yes, that’s fine,” Gappy said, handing over the cash while wondering how many people actually paid the $1,000 rate. “Any idea where I can find someone to help me locate a suitable piece of property for my business?”
“One thousand,” the Ogre said.
“To help me find someone?”
“Thirty-seven fifty?”
“No, thank you. I’ll just search around on my own.”
Gappy left the building and moved his wheely engine to slot 413, which gave him a nice view of the trees. He figured that at $37.50 per day, he could last here for a couple of weeks if it came to that. What he was hoping for, though, was to find a place and get moved in straightaway.
He locked everything up and then started walking into town. There were many shops and street merchants. It reminded him of when his parents would take him into downtown Hubintegler. That had been a rare treat that had all but disappeared after his mother passed away, but he still carried the memories fondly. If there was any one difference he could point to it was that he was having to dodge a lot of people in Planoontik for fear that they didn’t see him. It wouldn’t take much for an oversized Orc to crush him beneath its feet, after all.
The walk wasn’t too long since he saw a sign that read Tippylynn Real Estate just a few doors into the main walkway. He opened the door just enough to slip inside and looked up to see a Human woman with dark hair and red-framed glasses. Her suit spelled that she was a professional agent. Gappy stood a little taller knowing that he held the cards here.
“Hello, there, my little friend,” she said. “My name is Suzie Tippylynn. What brings you in so early this morning?”
Gappy shook her hand. “I’m Gappy Whirligig and I’m new in town. I was hoping you could help me find a piece of property that I can use to set up shop.”
“Why, I’d be happy to,” she said genuinely. “You’ve picked a wonderful city to set up a new business in, too … assuming, of course you’re not planning to be a mechanical engineer.” She gi
ggled for a moment. “So, what kind of business is it anyway?”
“Mechanical engineering,” Gappy replied seriously.
“Oh.” Suzie took in a slow breath. “That was awkward. Anyway, what type of property are you searching for?”
“I need something with a decent-sized barn. Also need an open field.” He climbed up on the chair opposite of her. “I would like some privacy too because I’m working on a top-secret project.”
“Ooooh,” said Suzie. She leaned forward on her elbows. “Something for the government?”
“No, nothing like that,” answered Gappy. “Just an invention that I plan to patent.”
She leaned back, looking mildly disappointed. “Well, we have some barns available. They start at twenty-five thousand and go up from there.”
“That’s more than I have available,” Gappy said as his heart sank.
“What’s your budget?”
Gappy opened his little satchel and started to reach for the money that he’d had, but he stopped himself. He knew how much he had to work with, and it wasn’t a lot.
“I can’t go any higher than twenty thousand. If I do, there won’t be any money for tools and supplies.”
“Hmmm.” Suzie frowned for a moment and then her face lit up slightly. “Actually, give me a moment.”
She snagged her TalkyThingy and walked into one of the offices, shutting the door behind her. Gappy couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it was obvious that she was excited about something. Finally, she came back out and sat down across from him.
“You’re in luck. It turns out that there is a new show on Houses and Trees Television that…”
“HTTV?” Gappy interrupted.
“That’s right,” Suzie said with an approving wink. “They’re starting a new show called Barn Hunters and they’ve been trying to find something to use for the pilot episode. I got a pamphlet just yesterday from them asking if I had anything available, so you turned up just in time.”
“That’s neat,” Gappy said, “but how does this help me?”
“It helps because, assuming you agree to be on the show, they’ll pay for fifty percent of your purchase.”
Comedic Fantasy Bundle #1: 4 Hilarious Adventures (Tales from the land of Ononokin) Page 53