Monday, July 15, 2013

Book Two Letter Thirty

My Dearest Nephew,

(first off, as your uncle Scaligar has lately taken back his start off line, the following news did not come to my attention, it simply allowed me to notice it very lately. There, that ought to keep the lawyers happy, or better yet; confused)

Due to the information that very lately allowed me to notice it (namely the family reunion proposed by my cousin Xeezoflaliophrcurkit Zezophlaoliorouxikurt Xexeophlaomrakixiturtis cousin X) I have put my advertising job with the local newsletter on hold and set out on a journey into Frizid. This letter I penned at the first rest-area after my flight and was then sent on my messenger-fish to your post-office. Forgive the fungi, and possibly the bite-marks.

Anyway, I was searching around for some means of transport across the tundra, when I overheard a trio of Drakes conversing by their sled, drinking cups of steaming hot Sluj, their national drink.

I shall not repeat the actual words that the conversation was made with as 50% of them were unintelligible, 29% were inappropriate comments and 21% percent were horribly and viciously grammatically-flawed. However, I gathered from the overall conversation that the Drakes had left one of their Drake-friends and a Dragon whom they referred to as “the one who says ‘Ificate’” whom I assumed to be your uncle Scaligar, on a sled out in the middle of the tundra.

Immediately leaping into action without the slightest hesitation, pause or vague possibility of the thought of rest of any kind or sort I invited the Drakes to tea.

This invitation to the sipping of tea leaves in steaming water was but the first step in a scheme of great cunning. As the Drakes sat down to tea, I would put into action step two of my plan, serving the tea, mixed with a slight sleeping-drug which would addle their minds just enough for step three to be pulled off hitchlessly.

With the Drakes in their semi-drugged state, I planned to then activate step three: a process of mesmerism taught to me in the far reaches of the Eastern Wastes by the Dragons of fire and sand who dwell there. With step three perfectly completed, I would then have been able to extract such information from the Drakes as I would need in order to rescue my brother and the female Drake out on the tundra.

With all steps of the plan completed, I would then have sprinkled a light dust of a powder made from the dried and crushed petals of the “forget me forever, don’t come near me again, don’t speak to me and don’t even think about writing or coming near my cave again” flower popular among young lovers in order that the Drakes would remember none of the things said in our conversation.

However, the Drakes refused my offer of tea, so I clobbered their heads together.

Having then pinned all three of them with a nearby motorized sled, I questioned them forcibly on the subject of the whereabouts of your uncle Scaligar and the Drake.

After the sled dropped on top of them, the Drakes were most forthcoming, giving me the coordinates of the place where they had stranded Scaligar, the position based on the movements of the storms, the most likely outcome of the next Flame ‘n Fur Ball match and a palm-reading.

I have since turned the Drakes in to the authorities and plan to set out on my journey to find your uncle Scaligar before the Drake he is stranded with is bored to insanity by his conversation. Oh, and I believe that there might be a slight danger of getting a bit cold.

-Your servant, mentor and uncle,

1 comment:

  1. Well, so much for subtlety, LOL. Awesome chapter as always; I think Semithino has to be my favorite of Smok's uncles.