Comedic Fantasy Bundle #1: 4 Hilarious Adventures (Tales from the land of Ononokin)

by John P. Logsdon

  “It’s Shrit,” the Orc stated with a glower.

  “Ah, that’s right,” Corg replied with a quick bow before turning to the agent. “Suzie, ye gotta leave the area so that we can set up a backdrop.”

  The Elves rolled out a large canvas-like picture and put it up on the wall behind where Gappy was sitting. It was a scene that looked like a busy street in the middle of the day, but the people were all static, making it look odd. Corg repositioned Gappy and Shrit so that they appeared to be eating at a cafe just inside a rail that led to the image of the street behind them.

  “Now,” Corg directed, “yer pretendin’ that yer sittin’ at lunch, talkin’ it over, yeah?”

  “But it’s nine o’clock and it’s obviously dark outside,” argued Gappy.

  “Hence why I was after saying ye gotta pretend! To make it easier, I’m going to have cue cards this time. Just read what yer seein’.”

  One of the Elves stood to the right of the camera and held up a card.

  “Roll it,” instructed Corg.

  “Well, Gappy,” Shrit said as he slowly read the card, “it seems to me that you have got a lot of thinking to do.”

  “Not really,” Gappy started before looking up to see a snarling Corg. “I mean,” he said, turning towards the card and reading, “I do have a lot of thinking, yes.”

  “Obviously you cannot choose all three, so maybe the best thing to do would be to eliminate one.”

  “I believe that I will eliminate the last one,” Gappy read.

  “Why is that?”

  “It was too dusty for my taste. Not at first so much, but after being there a few minutes it became more and more dusty, to the point where there were dust clouds.”

  “That makes sense,” Shrit said as he squinted at the card. “So that leaves the first barn that was old and the second one that you actually wanted to buy.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I think so, yes,” Gappy read.

  “Cut,” Corg said as he walked out and looked at the card. “Ye got the cards in the wrong order, ye daft Elf. Swap those last three and let’s try it again.” He stepped back to his directing spot. “Go.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Shrit asked again.

  “I am going to buy the second one,” Gappy answered in staccato fashion, sounding as wooden as the writing being fed to him on the cards.

  “You are sure that is what you want?”

  “I believe it is, yes.”

  “Okay, okay, cut,” Corg said and then signaled the Elves. “Get after taking that backdrop down.”

  They removed the city picture and brought Suzie back into the scene. Now all three of them were sitting at the desk, talking.

  Corg pointed at them. “All right, go!”

  “No cards?” asked Shrit.

  “Nay,” Corg answered, “writer is only good at writing for two people, not three. Now, go!”

  Suzie blinked a few times before saying, “Have you decided, Gappy?”

  “It took him a lot of thought,” Shrit began before Gappy could reply. “Serious and deep thought. There were moments where I didn’t think he was going to pull through, but we just keep working as a team, you know? We fought, struggled, cried, laughed, and …”

  “Cut,” Corg said as he leaned over, placing his hands on his knees for a moment. Finally he stood back up. “What the hell is it yer doin’, Orc?”

  “Building drama,” answered Shrit.

  “Stop doin’ it, will ya?” Corg said desperately. “Please?”

  “But that’s what actors do, Mr. Sawsblade.”

  “Do ye want yer name in the credits or not?”

  “I do.”

  “Then cut the made-up fluff, yeah?”

  “Yes, sir,” Shrit replied sulkily.

  “Roll the damn cameras.” Corg appeared as tired as Gappy felt. “Ask him again, lass.”

  “Have you decided on a barn?” Suzie asked.

  “It was a tough decision,” Gappy said, “but I think that the second one is perfect for my needs.”

  “Good,” Corg said, waving at the Elves to stop filming. “Now we just have to put up the backdrop of a barn and ye have to act all happy, like it’s been three months and yer all moved in.”

  The Elves rolled out another picture and put it up. The image looked absolutely nothing like the barn that Gappy had selected, though. It wasn’t even red.

  “That’s not the barn I’m buying,” noted Gappy.

  “Nobody’ll know that,” Corg said. “They’ll think ye just put some changes in.”

  “And made it smaller?”

  “Yer after being little. They’ll get it.”

  “It’s not even the same color,” Gappy pointed out.

  “So ye were after paintin’ it, too! Doesn’t matter, I’m tellin’ ye.”

  “Fine, it’s your business, not mine.”

  “Exactly right,” Corg agreed. “I appreciate ye finally recognizing it with us only having about five minutes left in the filming.”

  “I do have a question, though,” said Gappy. “Aren’t you going live tonight with my answer?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So people will know that it’s not been three months.”

  “What’s yer point?” Corg said.

  Gappy just shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. Again, you know what you’re doing. I just want to buy a barn.”

  “All right, then. Ye and yer pal stand over there.” He paused. “Actually, Shat, could ye lift him on to that table there?”

  “Yes, and it’s not Shat. It’s Shrit.”

  “Right, sorry.” Corg waved his hand at the Elves and then pointed at Gappy. “There ain’t no cards for this scene, so ye gotta wing it. And, go!”

  “It’s been great living here for three months,” Gappy said dully. “Seems like I bought the barn only tonight.” Corg grimaced but didn’t stop the cameras.

  “You obviously like the place a lot, Gappy,” said Shrit.

  “Yeah, especially the new paint color.”

  Shrit nodded and then leaned on the table. “Any new loves in your life since moving in?”

  “Uh … no,” Gappy replied with a confused look.

  “Planning to start a family here maybe?”

  “No, Shrit, I’m planning to start a mechanical engineering firm, remember?”

  “You know, Gappy,” Shrit said, suddenly turning serious, “there’s talk of war in the east. It could take us all from here. War can change a man … or an Orc … or a Gnome …”

  “That’s a wrap,” Corg said, grunting. “We’ve got enough to get our jobs done.”

  With that, the Elves gathered everything up and started piling it into the Humbee. The Elves said their goodbyes in their flowery way before graciously entering the vehicle.

  “Thanks for being on the first show,” Corg said while shaking Gappy’s hand. “Yer a good lad. Oughta do fine and all that.” He turned to Suzie. “We’ll let ya know if there’s more shows upcomin’. Rumor has it that the bigwigs are lookin’ after doing a show on Giants and their mountain hovels.” He then turned to Shrit. “Keep up the, erm, actin’, Orc. Yer a natural.”

  “Yeah?” Shrit said hopefully.

  Corg shrugged and took one last look around. “Right, I’m out.” Corg bolted out the door, hopped in the Humbee, and yelled, “Go!”

  SIGNING PAPERS

  Suzie had gotten all of the paperwork together, and while she had promised that it would go quickly, it still had taken the better part of an hour. By the time all was said and done, Gappy looked at his watch to find that it was already past 11 p.m. But he was excited. Tomorrow morning he was going to drive to his new property and start his new life. Times were good.

  “I think everything is in order,” Suzie said as she gave the papers one last shuffle. “The deed will get registered tomorrow, but you’re effectively all set to move in whenever you want.”

  “T
hank you for all of your help, Suzie,” Gappy said, feeling a strong sense of pride. “I will be sure to recommend you if anyone asks.”

  “I appreciate that,” she replied while handing him a few cards. “I’m the only real estate agent in town, but it’s always good to keep business minded. You never know when competition might show up.”

  “True,” Gappy said, pocketing the cards.

  “Good luck to you both,” Suzie said as Gappy and Shrit walked out. She locked the door behind them and pulled down the shades.

  “Thanks to you too, Shrit,” Gappy said with a smile as the night air brushed his skin. “You did a … good job.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Shrit said. “I think that Corg guy may have felt differently. His parting words seemed sarcastic to me.”

  “Nooo,” Gappy said sarcastically.

  “Funny.”

  Gappy laughed. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I wish you all the best of luck going forward. Thanks again.”

  The two shook hands and then Gappy turned to head to the campground. His plan was to just sleep at the park tonight and then move to his new barn in the morning. He didn’t know the roads all that well and he didn’t want to chance going the wrong way, especially being this tired and all.

  “Hey,” he heard Shrit call out, “wait up.”

  “What’s up, Shrit?”

  “So, that’s it?”

  “What’s it?”

  Shrit shuffled his feet. “I thought we were friends.”

  Gappy wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well, we had that rental thing,” he said lamely.

  “Fair enough, but you’ve still got me until morning and all …”

  “Oh, wait,” Gappy said, holding up his finger, “I know what this is all about.” He reached in and pulled out his wallet. “Here’s your tip. You earned it. Did a great job, Shrit.”

  “Thanks,” Shrit said while plucking the $20 out of Gappy’s hand, “but, I don’t get it. You’re done with me?”

  “I don’t want you to think that, Shrit. It’s just that this was your job, you know? I mean, I can’t afford two hundred dollars a day. Especially including tips.”

  “I get it.” Shrit snorted. “Story of my life.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing,” Shrit said with a fake smile. “Good to meet you, Gappy. You’re a swell guy.”

  He turned and walked away. His shoulders were slumped and he was obviously dragging himself along. If he was acting, Gappy was impressed. He groaned.

  “Shrit, do you want to help me set up the barn in the morning?”

  Shrit spun around excitedly. “Are there going to be cameras there?”

  “I sure hope not.”

  “Hmmm. How much does it pay?”

  “Seriously?” Gappy said incredulously. “How about a free lunch?”

  “And dinner?”

  “Fine.”

  “Sounds like a deal,” Shrit said happily. “I’ll be there at eleven in the morning.”

  “Make it eight. Gnomes start early.”

  “Orcs don’t.”

  “They do if they want a free lunch,” Gappy pointed out.

  “And dinner,” Shrit amended.

  “Right.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there at eight. Thanks, Gappy. I appreciate it.”

  “Good night, Shrit.”

  THE NEXT HTTV DESIGN TROLL

  Scrumptious was a lot more interested in watching The Next HTTV Troll Design Star than Tootz was, but she had to sit through it in order to see which barn this Gappy Whirligig had selected. Not that it mattered since she could find out through alternate channels, but she liked to get her data firsthand wherever possible. Plus, she couldn’t help but feel that the little Gnome was kind of cute.

  She blanched at that thought. What was she thinking? Cute? A Gnome?

  “Why are you grimacing, ma’am?” Scrumptious asked. “Did the blue beans give you gas again?”

  “No, Scrumptious,” she answered. “I was thinking about something. Just pay attention to your show.”

  He smiled and turned back to the TV. Tootz decided to do the same thing.

  Tootz wasn’t a fan of shows like these, but she caught that this was the season finale, so it was considered a big deal.

  There were two designers remaining, both Trolls, obviously. The male, whose name was Wabet, was dressed in flashy colored tight clothing with a fashionable hat to top off the ensemble. The female, whose name was Ooga, was dressed less dramatically, with just enough flair to show that she understood that sometimes less is more.

  “We’ve seen the contestants’ work,” said the host of the show. “It’s the classic battle between contemporary flash and historic eloquence.” He turned to the judges. “Judge Nabs, what are your thoughts on Ooga’s design?”

  Nabs was an Orc, which Tootz found odd. Why he was on a Troll design show as a judge didn’t make much sense to her, but she supposed it had something to do with Orcs running a lot of the hotels in Dakmenhem, which in turn meant that they would likely be using whatever designer won the competition to redo their hotels.

  “She should be skinned alive, tied up, and set in a pool of acid,” Nabs said.

  “So you liked it, then?” the host asked.

  “Very much, yes.”

  “That’s one vote in your favor, Ooga,” said the host with a smile. “And what about Wabet’s work?”

  “It was good,” Nabs replied with a shake of his head.

  “Oooh, that’s too bad. Sorry, Wabet.” The host moved to the next judge in line, another Orc. “Preyung, you’ve been a big fan of Wabet’s throughout this competition. How do you think his work in this final challenge fares?”

  “He used an excellent shade of blue against the alabaster finish and the lines were tight and quite functional.”

  “Hated it, then?” the host asked.

  Preyung nodded his affirmation.

  “That’s too bad. What about Ooga’s work?”

  “I’ve seen sneezes sprayed on a mirror that had more interesting details than Ooga’s design.”

  The host grinned at Ooga. “That’s two likes for you, Ooga. Sorry, Wabet, but don’t fret just yet. It does take a full consensus for a winner to be crowned. Two out of three will just send you back out for another challenge.” He spun to the next judge. “Hawxen, what did you think of Ooga’s design?”

  “The edges were sleek and clean with tight etching. The comfort level was clearly apparent. I would most certainly utilize her talents in one of my hotels in Gakoonk.”

  “That’s too bad, Ooga,” the host said sadly. “I thought you were going to get a perfect score there.” Suddenly, the host put his hand to his ear and looked up as if listening to something. “What’s that? Oh, right! Hawxen is a Troll, so he actually did believe it was a good design. My apologies, Ooga.” She was all smiles. “Again, though, you’re not yet in the clear. If Hawxen liked Wabet’s design, that will not be considered a full consensus. It’s not good enough to get three positive votes. The challenger must also receive three negative votes.” He paused as the camera shifted back and forth between Ooga, Wabet, and Hawxen. “But before we hear Hawxen’s take on Wabet’s design, we’re going to reveal which barn Mr. Gappy Whirligig selected on the premiere of the newest HTTV show, Barn Hunters.”

  The lights on the set lowered and the camera zoomed in to the TV that hung on the wall.

  “Bring me another glass of wine, Scrumptious,” Tootz said as she watched the scene unfold.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Scrumptious said, moving with haste. “Which one do you think he’ll pick, ma’am?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest notion, nor do I much care. He looks like an idiot, if you ask me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I mean, he’s cute in his own way,” she said and then caught herself. “Not that I have a thing for Gnomes, of course.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Gnomes are always tinkering with things. Hate
that. Just make the damn product and leave it alone. Be profitable, not inventive. You know?”

  “Not really, ma’am.”

  Mr. Whirligig had picked the second one, which Tootz had fully expected. Frankly, she would have been disappointed had he not. It was the most sensible choice. Scrumptious, though, was not as happy about that.

  “I’m shocked,” Scrumptious said with a pout. “I thought the third one was so much nicer looking.”

  “They didn’t even show the inside of the third one, Scrumptious.”

  “That’s true, ma’am.” Scrumptious sighed.

  Tootz sat quietly for a moment before saying, “I guess I’ll have to put a call in to some ... friends.”

  “You have friends, ma’am?”

  “Watch yourself, Scrumptious. You’re easily replaced, you know.”

  “So you’ve said, ma’am.”

  “Make yourself useful and draw me a bath. Extra bubbles tonight. I need to do some thinking. First, though, hand me the TalkyThingy.”

  Scrumptious grabbed the remote from the table and paused the show before he headed off to set up her bath. Why he cared about the fate of a Troll’s design aspirations was a mystery to her, but Scrumptious wasn’t exactly a study in genius.

  She entered her personal password into the TalkyThingy, which revealed an extra contact list that only she could see.

  “Yeah?” said a voice that belonged to the head of the local Halfia.

  “Good evening, Huido. This is Tootz Gibdawdle calling.”

  “I know who it is,” Huido replied in his gruff way. “I got Who-The-Heck-Is-Calling-ID on my TalkyThingy just like everybody else. What I don’t know is what you want.”

  “Just a friendly call to let you know that there’s a new business in town.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “He’s a Gnome who is trying to start up a mechanical engineering firm.”

  “The barn guy?”

  “He’s recently bought … oh wait, you were watching The Next HTTV Troll Design Star?”

  “Don’t judge me,” Huido replied menacingly. “It’s a good show.”

  “Right. Well, since you already know about him, I suppose I’ll let you go.”