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Gritchy's Escape
Revenge of
the Clichéd Characters Part Six
My Happily Ever
After Syndrome
Interview
with Deron Douglas
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GRITCHY'S ESCAPE
Revenge of the Clichéd Characters
Part Six
by Tina Morgan
Part One:
The Quest
Part Two:
Call to Council
Part Three:
Council Orders
Part Four:
Into the Dark Wood, Sort of...
Part Five:
Great
Balls of Fire!!!
In our last installment, BOB the pixie warned Gregg the
rock troll about the dangers of smoking but did the big dumb brute listen?
Nooooo..... Gritchy was tossed into the dreaded land of attorneys,
desperate to find his way back to the Dark Wood.
Turning down narrow alley after narrow alley,
Gritchy found himself on a small street where most of the smoke belching,
metal wagons were stopped in front of tall buildings with cracked and
faded exteriors. Halfway down the street stood an eye-popping, bright
yellow building. The sign hanging above the front door was shaped like a
banana and the words, "Neon Banana" were scrolled in brilliant pink paint
on its surface.
"Well, it doesn't look like it belongs here so maybe it's my portal back
to fantasyland," Gritchy muttered under his breath. Glancing skyward, he
shook his sword, "This had better be the way out or we're going to add
you, my dear creator, to the naysaying authors list! Especially if you
don't give back my ax!"
The sign on the door said, "Open - no one under 21 admitted." Gritchy
hoped the 21 referred to age and not height. Some taverns in fantasyland
didn't permit dwarfs, pixies, or other small humanoid creatures. Not
because they were discriminated against but because giants and rock trolls
were too dumb to watch where they walked or sat and shorter creatures were
liable to be trampled or squashed.
He blinked when he entered the building. It was bright, the light glaring
and harsh, not at all like a tavern should be. "Taverns should be dim and
smoky." He spoke toward the ceiling. "Like being underground. Have you
forgotten how to write? Why do you think dwarves like to hang out in
taverns and drink so much?" He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "This
is like being with the elves! Bah, at the whims of a lunatic, I am!!"
Light sparkled off the high polished bottles and glasses lining the
shelves behind a gleaming bar. At the bar, two men sat in intimate
proximity, their fingers touching, each with a sensual smile on their
face.
Gritchy raised an eyebrow and gripped his ax hilt (sorry, didn't read far
enough LOL) tighter. "Don't even think it. You hear me? You may have
written my ax back in," he mumbled under his breath, "but don't think I'll
forgive you if you make me do something so completely out of character."
"Hi!" A cheery voice startled Gritchy out of his threats. He turned to see
a man dressed in a sequined dress standing just a few inches from his
elbow. He took in the man's high heels, long wig, and face paint and
flinched. "I'm Butch, the manager here."
"Are you the actor Patrick hired for tonight's show? Come on, I'll show
you were the costumes are. Did he tell you we needed a dwarf? I'm afraid
that costume is totally unacceptable."
"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?"
The man put one hand on his hip and waved the other negligently in
Gritchy's direction. "Well, it's just so clich.."
"ARGH!" Gritchy swung his ax at the man's head but before it could slice
through his neck, he heard a series of staccato taps and his ax became a
cheap bouquet of magician's flowers.
"Wonderful!" The man clapped. Smiling, his finger beckoned Gritchy to
follow. "Right this way, Sweetie," he practically purred as he flipped his
hair over his shoulder. With his hips swaying dramatically, and his high
heels clicking loudly against the shiny, multicolored floor, he walked
away.
"Sweetie?? SWEETIE!!!!" The dwarf threw the flowers down on the strange
floor, only to have them turn back into his battle-ax. He quickly scooped
it up and slipped the handle into his belt. The weight of it pulling at
his waist was good, normal. Shaking a stubby finger skyward, he muttered
as he followed Butch toward the back of the tavern, "This had better be
the way out!"
"Here we are." The man held the door open for Gritchy, and the dwarf
reluctantly entered a room full of men in various stages of undress.
Glittering gowns hung from racks or lay draped across the backs of chairs.
"Actors," Gritchy cursed under his breath. "What else are you going to
toss at me today?" He held up a hand as if to silence someone and added,
"Never mind, I don't think I want to know!"
"No offense, but I think I'll get myself out of this one, Sweetie," he
nearly spat toward the ceiling. "I'm thinking you need to step away from
the keyboard and have a nap."
None of the actors noticed as he wove his way through the crowded room,
their attention focused on applying makeup and choosing costumes. Gritchy
had almost retreated to the back of the room when a tall man with a full
beard and dressed in a low cut evening gown, stopped him.
"What do we have here?" the man said in a high falsetto. "Aren't you just
the cutest thing?"
"Keep your hands to yourself!" Gritchy brandished his ax when the man
tweaked his cheek.
"Really, honey, if you don't fancy us, all you have to do is say so,"
grumbled another man who gave him an angry stare.
Honey? Fancy? Oh, good grief. He didn't bother to speak, knowing his
author could well hear his thoughts.
Gritchy thought silence would be the best answer with these fellows as
well, and he retreated farther into the racks of clothes lining the back
of the room. Hoping to find another exit from the room that would keep him
from walking back through the men in women's clothes, he found a carved,
wooden door. He looked up. He could just make out the outline of an
elaborate wardrobe. Thinking perhaps he could hide inside until the other
men had left, he opened the door and hopped inside. Moving to the back of
the wardrobe, he expected to feel the smooth wood of the back panel, but
no matter how deep he went, he didn't find it.
It took a few moments for him to realize the light was growing brighter
and the smell of dusty clothes had given way to the scent of moldy leaves.
He was back in the Dark Woods, he was home. He wanted to drop to his knees
and kiss the leafy forest floor, but since he knew his author was
watching, he folded his arms over his chest and mumbled, "I guess I have
to be thankful that you got me back, don’t I? Even if you did borrow that
exit from someone else."
Silence.
He shrugged. "I'm not complaining, mind you. Borrow all you want, just as
long as I'm home and not stuck in that very strange tavern."
The silence grew deeper. Not even the clicking of keys could be heard in
the distance.
"Oh, bah." Gritchy sighed. Keeping his voice low in case others were near,
he said, albeit grudgingly, "All right, you win. Thank you…thank you very
much!"
For answer, a soft tapping echoed above him.
"Great," he muttered. "She's off imagining again. I can't wait to see what
she has in mind."
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