[ Have patience, I will arrive soon. ]
oh boy! a storytime
How perceptive. Yes, I came to offer to read you all a bedtime story.
Oh golly, what'll it be tonight Doctor Scratch? A fable? A mystery? A tale of horror? What are we gonna be reading, Doc?
Let me get myself seated, and I will tell you.
Tonight's story is titled, "Good Mayors Don't Gamble."
==> I already feel guilty.
The Wayward Vagabond thought that two years of exposure to dream bubbles had prepared him for anything. He was still caught off guard, however, when he met the Courtyard Droll - well, a Courtyard Droll. He said his name was Clubs Deuce now, and something about his sash? From what the Vagabond could gather, this CD was from another universe. That seemed to be a fairly normal thing, as far as dream bubbles went, so instead of trying in vain to wrap his head around it, he let Deuce take him to a bar so they could catch up on gossip, or at least get drunk on memory booze in the same location.
A few too many fond memories about the taste of rum and TaB later, WV also remembered that the Droll / Deuce was an extremely capable drinker for his size. The conversation fell to topics of masculine prowess, and thanks to all the liquor, the Vagabond felt more than capable of winning the wager Deuce laid out. They left the bar and immediately turned their attention on the first two people they saw; Deuce began talking to a troll boy in a thick, red sweater, and WV set his sights on a confused looking human. In the course of a few minutes' genial conversation, he learned that the human's name was Jane, and that she was somewhat lost. Wasn't this place in flames not long ago? He turned to look, and there were indeed some scorch marks down the street. The Wayward Vagabond shrugged the question off - he barely understood the dream bubble thing himself. Better not to try explaining it to someone else, especially while drunk off his ass.
so that's what those characters were for
As they talked, the Vagabond chanced a peek to see how Deuce was faring. To WV's dismay, the shorter Dersite appeared to be winning his bet - he had the troll boy pressed up against the wall, with one hand holding up the troll's sweater, the other on the troll's hip, and was planting a line of kisses up his --
This is not the right book.
==> BUT WE JUST GOT TO THE STEAMY -- uh
I mean, I don't think you should read us bedtime stories anymore, Uncle Scratch.
This is dreadfully embarrassing, the time I'd put aside for tonight's story is up. I'm afraid you'll have to do without a real story tonight. I'm sorry.
==> But I can't sleep without one! ;_;
4: Hee hee! Sorry about ruining your bedtime story, guys, but that guy is soooo hard to prank, it's ridiculous! I had to get him while I could. I'm sure he'll come back with a real story some other time.
4: Anyways, good night!
oh Clover! Goodnight.