Water Under the Bridge Letter 5

Lout,

I gather from your reply to my first letter that your parents disapprove of my missive born education for your advancement in social inadequacy.

          Well, Lout, I think your parents’ distrust of my qualifications is a sham for something deeper. My relationship with Mingo and Droodida has always been unhealthily friendly.

          As trollmutts Mingo and I and our brother Dingo were inseparable for a short time due to a glue gun malfunction. But after that Dingo was a good brother, giving out wedgies and dropping mud on us as often as possible, he was a true troll.

          But I’m sad to say Lout, that your father was unusual bad as a child. He was never a bully at school, and even when the Skool children begged him to shove their heads down toilets; he only gave them severe wet willies.

          And he was always nice to me! I couldn’t understand it. As the youngest, I was the stereotypical punching back, for stench’s sake! Everyone else was good! They kicked, slapped and hung me over deep wells! But he only ever set fire to my bed, by mistake too!

          Sorry Lout, I’m always a bit traumatized when I remember. But you must realize why Mingo does not want me as a contact, it reminds him of his child where he failed to be a true delinquent!

          I will be the first to say that he improved later in life, far exceeding the exploits of Dingo who unfortunately got eaten in Australia due to a misunderstanding, but his childhood is still stained by that slight good nature.

          So I have decided to begin contacting you in secret, my nephew, so not to upset your parents any further.

          Now my messenger pigeon shall only fly at night, in a lack leotard, and shall pretend to be shot down by arrows to confuse any surveillance just as it is reaching your swamp, and then spiral down limply through your window, landing in a perfect cartwheel that will send my letter spinning from its leg into your outstretched mitt.

          That procedure should be sufficient to debunk any suspicions that might have aroused by a normal pigeon.

          My quill is running low, and my castle’s getting nearer to a town with a good ink factory. Do you want anything Lout? Send a quick pigeon and I might be able to steal something appropriate.

          But I must go now,

          Your affectionate and only uncle,

          Bingo Gobspit

          P.S. I’ll get to my unfortunate involvement with your mother next time.

          Pee-Pee. S. Do you like Spearmint Gum? I’ve just raided a merchant ship found a sunken treasure ship, and it’s got a massive store of the stuff. I’ve enclosed some, just in case. Forgive the sogginess.

Water Under the Bridge Letter 4

Lout, Lout, Lout,
I take it as a sign of goodwill that you did not tell your mother about our correspondence. Keep it that way.
In your most recent (and only, so far) letter to me, you mentioned receiving letters from two other "uncles." Please assure me that you will not listen to their advice. They are not really your uncles. In fact, those letters are most likely part of a scam. "Honest" Bingo Gobspit is no relation of ours, and this Ferkyle Gruntbutt just seems like a very unsavory character, who's probably been elected Cleanest Troll of the Year at least twice. As you can see, you should not trust either of them.
Scam artists are a bad bunch!
-Your real uncle,
Ferdy Snotdrop

P.S. The answer to Question #3 is 187. You're welcome.

Letter Three!

Title says it all.
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My young friend,

It’s me, your uncle. If you didn’t know that you had an uncle, then that’s fine. Until very lately, I didn’t know that I had a nephew. And don’t be all indignant at that, I just had a long relapse into the land of not checking my mail.

Anyway, moving on past that point, if my calculations are correct, then you should be nearing your coming of age and the day when you move out of the family cave and make a home for yourself. At this important junction in your life I have decided to enter in and take a hand in the direction your life is moving in. It’s my job to make sure that you make the right choices here, which to a certain extent means not listening to your other uncles as I’m sure that they will start writing to you as well right about now.

Be warned, nephew! They are only trying to bring you down the wrong path in life! They’re like that shadowy Troll on the corner of the street who tells you to come down the alley with him!! If you know not to go with him then we’re on the same page here. If you don’t, well then, I have more to teach you than I originally thought I did.

Your uncles have no idea about what the right choice is, trust me. They will send your life into a nosedive from which there will be no escape! When their letters arrive, burn them! And then hide the ashes somewhere! Better just throw them off a cliff in a bag actually, yes, throw them off a cliff!

Anyway, I wish I could go more into this, but there’s a trio of hippy Billy-goats knocking on the top of my bridge calling for a fight again. Must go do something about this again. The neighborhood watch cares if a few herds of sheep go missing, but when a law-abiding Troll is being harassed by Billy-goats, nothing happens!

Ah well, I suppose I can’t do anything. I’ll just get my club and handle business like I always have.

I hope to write to you again soon little nephew and help you with your important life choices, but don’t count on it, these goats sometimes make it hard for me to write, or indeed read, my mail sometimes.

Until the next time then,

Your uncle,

-Ferkil Gruntsnort

Water Under the Bridge's Letter 2

The second letter ever to be shoehorned from the world of troll's, gruff billy goats and floating river castles; ladies and gentlemen...

LETTER TWOOO!!!

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Lout,

As a household contractor troll, over the years I have learned the right time for everything. The right time to abduct a hot rolls stand is when the proprietor has been clouted by a sandbag, for instance. The right time to invade a riverside village, pillage, plunder and buy their land at lowered tax rates is after extended siege and aerial bombardment.

            The list carries on Lout, but the most important time for you seems to be upon you. Your adolescent years, when your tender childhood of rule flouting grows into fully fledged disobedience!

          This is a delicate and all-important phase of your rise into adulthood, and we must work hard to retain your immaturity throughout your life, or you shall not succeed in it!

          Take me for example, a strapping troll with no great failing, stringent modesty and a successful home contractor and river pirate!

          My contact will be indispensible to your growing body and mind, and I shall take pride in over lording your entire life.

          Perhaps you’re wondering why such a troll as myself has never contacted you before, besides that condolence card filled with termites after you broke your toe last year.

          Well Lout, I travel a lot, what with my home being a floating castle, I get round, going many places to look at new lands for development and avoiding ornery pitchfork mobs.

          But now I’ve drifted your way, and just in time too, it seems. It appears that I am your only remaining uncle and objective life instructor, your others having died off long ago from strange causes.

          Old Ebenezer who thought mine shafts were portals to other worlds, your uncle Minto Funkmiester who was bitten by a spider and died of shame because it didn’t give him superpowers…and even your grand-uncle Beelzum Bumbust didn’t do a day in jail and was disowned by the family.

          As to the rumors and gossip that have come about concerning that lout (forgive the expression) Ferkil Gruntsnort’s supposed relation to you, they are only rumors.

          I am your only remaining uncle! Your advancement into illegitimate life can only flourish with a true veteran to teach it.

          Now, first we should find out what basic petty skills you possess or should gain.

          Loitering and Lollygagging: Always a good fallback for any day of objective uselessness, though if possible you should do it at school to increase your social standing.

          Chore Avoidance: I have heard from your mother that you are acing this requirement, and I hear your excuses for not taking out the trash cauldron are second to none.

          Bullying: Sadly you seem to be very lax in this ultra-important part of your personal evolvement, I have even read a report from your school including the fact that several schoolmates waved at you without you giving them wedgies.

          Overall Filth and BO: Every troll must have his own personal gut wrenching smell, and none should be seen in public without several layers of muck on them, call me a traditionalist.

          Disgusting Habits: Pick your nose Lout! For goodness sakes! This is possibly the most important skill a young troll can possess, and you must rise to the requirement! Armpit noises seem to be the rage at the moment, though I believe you should invest in ill timed farts, as they will soon come back into style.

          I think we will leave it at that for now Lout, I should give you some time to absorb and adapt, wouldn't like to overcrowd you too soon.

          Just a few last pieces of everyday advice. Ferkil is not your uncle, it’s the truth. If he tries to convince you with immoral papers and stuff, burn them to cinders and slam the weeds in his face.

Also, forget to brush your teeth every morning, let loose toads into your parents’ bedcave at strategic times, and always, always avoid goats with siblings.

          Until your reply I remain your affectionate uncle,

          “Honest” Bingo Gobspit

Water Under the Bridge: Letter One

Welcome, various and sundry readers, to Iron Wyvern, where we have before us a momentous occasion: the introduction of our new series of letters, Water Under the Bridge!
Narrated by three trolls to their adolescent nephew Lout, Water Under the Bridge is what critics* call "a cutting-edge masterpiece" and "a series to rival The Draconian Letters."
So, without further ado, we present to you: LETTER ONE!

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Lout, Lout, Lout,
I have taken it upon myself to advise you. You are still a young troll, but you are growing faster than I had anticipated. So I must take it upon myself to guide you in your journey through life. I am, after all, a relative of your mother, (actually I am her brother, though she might claim otherwise. She disowned me when she was seven).
Anyway, on to the mentoring. You are growing into adult trollhood, Lout.
A word of advice: RESIST.
Here are my three commandments to you, based on my past experiences:
1. Take on as little responsibility as possible.
2. Do whatever you want.
3. NEVER BUY AN ENCHANTED TOADSTOOL FROM AN OGRE NAMED TED AT FULL PRICE!!!!!!
That last one is the most important. Don’t ask, Lout; just trust. Anyway, one of the most important things you need to know as you grow into an irresponsible adult: your heritage. Trollkind is one of the most refined of all the Faerie cultures. Of course there are the famous examples, i.e., Skomas Noseyrun (inventor of the Faerie lamp) and Ollivandar Lamb Smell (inventor of the scrying stone). However, who would forget the great musical masterminds, The Beetles? And yes, the rumors are true; Ringo was not a troll, but a dwarf, but that does not discount the whole band. And what about the great writer, G.R.R. Trolkien? I’m just saying, there’s more to troll history than meets the eye.
But anyway, don’t study your heritage too long. A good troll will have a certain amount of disrespect for his forefathers. For example, it is troll custom to spit, defecate, and/or dance on the graves of our elders whom we didn’t like very much growing up.
Anyway, I’m running out of parchment, Lout; but one last request. Please don’t tell your mother I’m writing to you. She may get angry, and we all know what happens when your mother gets angry. She would kill me if she found out I was in correspondence with you. Anyway, till the next time,
Ferdy Snotdrop

P.S. Mail me anything you have questions about in your youthful life. I’ll write back with answers to your math homework advice.

______
*Disclaimer: these critics may or may not exist in this dimension.

Concerning NaNoWriMo (& the Blog in General)

Welcome, readers, to Iron Wyvern! You may have noticed that it is October. You may also have noticed that it will soon be...November.
Which happens to be National Novel Writing Month (x).
We three scribblers have all scrivened some scratch in the past for this event, but this year we have not really done anything (excluding J's failed attempt to complete a novel in July).
But for November 2014, two of us, J and Z respectively, have decided to embark upon the monthlong, 50,000-word adventure that is NaNoWriMo.
We also invite you to join us! Sign up at their website and get started November 1st.

J will be writing a mystery novel set in current-day Los Angeles.
Z will be rewriting a steampunk/fantasy adventure set in an entirely different world.

And, don't forget, on November 1st, the long-anticipated Water Under the Bridge will begin! We will be posting two letters a week until the end of Book One.

The Draconian Letters: Book Three is scheduled to start sometime in the late summer/early fall of 2015.
Anyway, good luck, WriMos! See you at the finish line!

-JTZ Baner

A Post Primarily Pertaining Powerful Prose and Paramount....P-information

'Ello, 'ello, 'ello! And we're back in the Wyvern's Den! So, lets get started with the pinformation.

You may say to yourself, 'they're great (really incredibly awesome, really. Really), they can write like schizophrenic Dragons and sometimes even like everyday human procrastinators (that's skill).....'

'BUT CAN THEY WRITE LIKE TROLLS?!'

The answer is YES! And we shall demonstrate in glorious Blu-ray and extended bonus features in five days time! On November 1st we shall unveil, reveal, enlighten and otherwise sell the screenplay of our newest alliterative project...

Water Under the Bridge!

Yet another three close relations shall bombard an innocent child with all sorts of advice, life lessons, and mind melting plot twists, war stories, and all that sort of thing.

The plan for the deployment of each letter will be twice a week, while our other posts shall continue to be thrown in, including some all new trollkind benefiting features.

Our Trollish characters, Bingo, Ferdy and Ferkil shall soon blow your mind! And please, I beg of you, just this once (sob), enjoy it...

Comment with your suggestions for changes to the blog concerning Water Under The Bridge. Anything goes, and don't forget,

Մի լինել կոռեկտ, դա վատ է ձեզ համար

LAST LETTER! Book Two Letter Fifty-Six

BEHOLD, it is the end of The Draconian Letters Book Two! Savor the end. If you cry, we will be providing complimentary tissue boxes to your left, right, and/or front. In case of cabin decompression, gas masks will drop from the ceiling. If you have a child with you, please secure your own mask before helping them. In case of emergency, the seat cushions can be used as life rafts.

Anyway, here is the last letter of BOOK TWO, written by Scaligar.

Enjoy, and thank you for reading.

Don't forget to be here November 1st for the premiere of Water Under the Bridge, our newest series!

-JTZ Baner

My dear Smok,

It has come to my attention that in the aftermath of the gigantic debacle Semithino’s idiotic antics have caused, it may be best for me to lay low for a while. I left off in my last letter with my escape from that horrendous prison in which I was imprisoned. As an escaped convict, I had to deal with Trubodox’s underwater grunts and bubbles, which surely meant, “ARE WE THERE YET?!” to which I would reply with some Morse-code bursts meaning, “SHUT UP, I SHOULDN’T HAVE EVEN BROUGHT YOU WITH ME.”

ANNOUNCEMENT MAXIMA!!!!!!!

As per the translation above, we have a great annunciation to unveil, concerning mainly tomorrow's post schedule, which shall carry a package known to us as the D-D-C, or Draconian Depth-Charge...

(Cue Jaws theme...)

(Cue Beethoven 5th intro...)

Dun, dun, DUUUUN!!!

Tomorrow shall be the Last Day of The Draconian Letters!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Posted at pinpointed times, each uncle shall be revealing their Final Letter. Each post shall be surrounded by many weeping mourners, primarily of the reptile family; and the final publication of the year's newest posts, The Weekly Draconian...

******************************************************************white**noise*************************static********************************************************************************************grrzzzzzzt**********************feedback***********************************

P.S. Coming November 1st...Water Under the Bridge

Book Two Letter Fifty-Three

Welcome, readers, one and all, to the Wyvern's Den. Here we have yet another installation in Book Two of The Draconian Letters, which is drawing swiftly to a close.

But fear not! For we, the authors of this blog, shall take a two-month hiatus and produce the most fantastical and hilarious new series of letters, Water Under the Bridge! More details in the tab at the top.

For now, though, enjoy Scaligar's newest letter.

My dear Smok,

It has come to my attention that prison breaking is not so easy as the media makes it seem. I apologize if this letter is tainted with scents of radioactive pineapple fragrance. It was necessary to ward off the guards.

Book Two Letter Fifty

Readers, one and all, welcome to Iron Wyvern! As we have hinted in a previous post, Book Two of The Draconian Letters is being wrapped up, and will be done by the end of August. For the months of September and October, we will write Book One of our much-mumbled-about new project, Water Under the Bridge! Don't worry, we didn't forget about it. Starting in November, that will be posted regularly for the next few months. And then, coming in 2015...drumroll please...the new, improved BOOK THREE OF THE DRACONIAN LETTERS!!!!! Featuring Trubodox, Scaligar, and Semithino in new adventures.

Here is Scaligar's latest from the max security facility in the province of Zuul. Enjoy!

________________________

My dear Smok,

It has come to my attention that I may have made a mistake in assaulting your uncle through the glass in the visiting room. It appears he has now been sentenced to 500 years in MY CELL. This is a terrible atrocity, and I have already contacted a lawyer to get him moved out of my cell as soon as draconianly possible.

Finale Extravaganza!!! (Letters 48 and 49)

Welcome to the final post in our First Annual Yolapalooza for Posts!!! Firstly, we have some letters you might want to read, inhale, ravage, like? Look at the bottom of the post for the true Finale to the day's works!
Enjoy, one, two and all!!!

Announcement: Water Under the Bridge

Greetings, faithful readers of Iron Wyvern! You may be wondering why the template of the blog has changed, or why there is a new tab at the top, reading "Water Under the Bridge." The truth is, my fellows, that we have come up with a new project, and are beginning to wrap up The Draconian Letters. Smok is getting quite old now, and growing more and more independent of his squabbling uncles, so we have come together and decided that it is time to end The Draconian Letters. After the next few series of letters are posted in a prompt fashion, we shall begin our new project. Introducing...drumroll now...

Water Under the Bridge

Featuring trolls and trouble, contractors and castles, goats and gremlins, and three controversial and very competitive characters at the heart of it all: "Honest" Bingo Gobspit, Ferkil Gruntsnort, Ferdy Snotdrop, and their mutual contact, Lout. Read more at the Water Under the Bridge tab above!

We have also changed the motto under the blog title. It reads (in Armenian) "Don't be polite, it's bad for you," as a tribute to trollish culture. We hope you enjoy the finale of the dear and long-lived Draconian Letters and the beginning, the premiere, the dawn, the threshold, the realization, of Water Under the Bridge! We hope you like it!

-JTZ Baner (Executive Bloggers)