Pride Goeth Before a Pratfall...

Posted September 20, 2007




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Sanar: Well, brother, I see you are fitting in with these mortals – or at least attempting to **points at tee** What is this Austin place?



Inigo: This? Oh – I have heard a mortal expression – “So-and-so went to such-and-such place, and all I got was this lousy tee-shirt.” *chuckle* Not that this is lousy – my gratitude to Ms. Jill **waves**



Sanar: Mortal humor! *harrumph*

Inigo: As for fitting in, more than I can say for you, dear brother. What is with your – um, as they say -- get-up?



Sanar: What? THIS? I am just blending in, is all.

Inigo: I did not know we had gay biker Elves amongst our clans. That  is about the only place I see you blending in. *snerk*



Sanar: Do not *snerk* at me! From the looks of this household, how can you tell if I blend in, or no?

Inigo: Well…

**enter Zimta**

Zimta: Ah, friend Inigo – pardon beg I on my interruption of your discourse. See I that he is another elf -- methinks… but mistaken could be I.



Sanar: Not that your opinion much matters, but yes – I am indeed an elf, of the Alar. I am also a dweomer master –

Zimta: Oh… powerful are you, great lord *bows* … though your garb says otherwise…

Inigo: Did I not tell you? *snicker*



Sanar: **glaring** Impudent little mold elf! Yes, I recognize what lowly creature are you! As I said before, your opinion matters NOT! I shall dress as I please. I should turn you into the creeping insect you truly are -- **waves hands**

Inigo: Do not waste your power this way. She is an honest lass, and means no harm by words, which will roll off your proud back like mere raindrops. Especially in that leather!

Zimta: Oh aye – hide of that quality doth repel nicely. **strokes vest hem**



Sanar: ENOUGH! Take your paws away, verminess. Inigo, how can you live amongst such refuse?

Inigo: Hmmm… to quote a book I read recently, because they are, “Mostly Harmless”. Zimta here especially. Brother, you do need to get down from that, as they say, high horse, or you will wind up resembling the rear end of said horse.

Zimta: **stifles giggle**



Sanar: How dare you speak to me, your ELDER brother, in that manner! It is bad enough that my wife behaves with obstinacy. This dwelling among mortals is pernicious indeed.

**Waramon enters**

Waramon: Inigo, why didn’t you tell me you have a guest? And a most  enchanting one, indeed.

Zimta: Most apt a word uses Master Waramon in this case -- !



Waramon: May I introduce myself – Waramon Sinclair, at your  service *bows* And pray tell me your name -- ?

Sanar: At last someone with a civil tongue! I am called Sanar, dweomer master of the Elven Alar.

Waramon: Shall we continue conversing in another part of the house? I should not like to be distracted whilst learning more about you. *smile*

Sanar: Lead on, Master Waramon. The audience here leaves something to be desired.

**they exit**



**a pause**

Zimta: Lord Sanar knows not what Master Waramon is about, does he?

Inigo: No… I daresay it will all end in tears –

Zimta: Aye… and those not be of Master Waramon, warrants I.

Inigo: True… let us speculate what my brother shall turn him into before the hour is over!

Zimta: Oh, infinite are the choices, friend Inigo – infinite!



Oh yes, one can only imagine… but not for long!


Warts And All…



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