The Crying Pennant

Part 22

  “I don’t believe it, this was my Uncle Alf the dwarf,” motioned Sid, “They must have been in the Goblin Wars together.” They both started to well up and hugged each other until Sid felt embarrassed and said quietly, “That’s enough, pansy.”

  “By my electric sword, I shall take the ears of the Dark Lord for the head of my uncle,” said Alf.

  “Tell you what, I’ll give you two gold pieces and a stuffed goldfish for the head of your uncle,” interjected Sid.

  “Don’t be silly Sid, this is an impassioned matter,” With pleaded with Sid.

  Sid looked at the armoury, “Shall we equip ourselves with these ornate weapons?”

  “That’s stealing,” said With.

  “Oh, okay then. I was only thinking we could borrow them.”

  “We don’t need them,” blustered Alf, “you told me that you just have to compliment the author!”

  “Can’t we find the door?” asked Fawh, “I need to relieve myself.”

  “Quick, let’s find the door,” said Alf.

  They found the door behind a curtain, Alf peeped out on to a dim passageway.

  A goblin guard slept near some double doors.

  Alf turned round and placed his index finger to his lips.

  He crept up to the goblin and bashed him over the head, the guard slipped to the floor. Sid booted one of the doors open and they discovered the castle’s toilets.

  “Guarding a toilet?” quizzed Alf.

  “Uh-oh, I think he was waiting for his mate, look under there,” said Sid.

  They saw a large pair of feet under the door of a cubicle.

  “Whoops,” whoopsed Sid, “a big hobgoblin about seven foot tall.”

  They looked at each other and all but Fawh scrambled into a cubicle. Fawh reversed into another but couldn’t close the door, he then relieved himself.

  They heard a toilet flush and listened together in the cramped cubicle. A door opened. Big footsteps on the tiles, the washing of hands and a spit in the sink, then more footsteps and a kick of a door.

  “Oi, you lazy slob, wake up!”

  A bit of slapping, then, “Idunno, come on.”

  “I’m sure someone ‘it me on the ‘ed,” said Idunno as he rubbed his bump.

  “It must ‘ave been that ‘oss in the cubicle. Come on, let’s go to the pool.”

  The four compatriots stopped fretting.

“Wee,” sploosh went Arthur into the pool, “I haven’t had this much fun since they dropped me in the drink on the way to Avalon.”

  “So you didn’t drown then?” asked Biggs.

  “Shut up, you, you brainwashed pedagogue,” insulted Arthur.

  “Pedagogue, I’ve heard of the word but I don’t know what one is?” said Lee.

  “He doesn’t either,” explained Biggs, “but it’s a good insult.”

  “I think we ought to be getting off now anyway, there are not many people here,” said Arthur.

  Lee swam over to a goblin in green swimming trunks, “Friend, I hear that there’s some beautiful women staying here.”

  “Go away, Chink,” growled the goblin.

  “That’s uncivil of you, old chap,” rebutted Lee.

  “Well, I’m supposed to be, I’m a goblin.” He then relented, “Yeah, there are some beauties, but none as petulant as those two on the top floor,” he winked and nudged Lee.