WHOLESOME TALES

THE TALE OF THE TWO ODD FRIENDS

Once upon a time, a long long time ago, a time which the vulgar remember with some delight and the respectable have clearly forgotten, there were two friends, a Scotshobbit and an Ozhobbit --- I said it was a long long time ago, in fact, several years prior to Mrs Figgs Goggle Shoppe opened on the corner of Famblaster Street and Rumdoodle Place, Needlehole.

The time was far more gay than it is now, the hills greener, the sky bluer and the pinks a rather delicate shade of pink, blush really. Anyhow, the two friends would often hold forth (whatever that means) at the Duck and Muck, or some hostelry of a name like that. (Their own names, by the way, were Petty McTyrant and Odo Banks).

Petty: Would you like another Duckie, Deary?

Odo: Oh I should love one - with a chaser of Buckie, Lucky!

Petty: Ooh I've never been called Lucky, Ducky!

Odo: Well, you luck might change tonight, it might!

Anyway, as it turned out Old Mrs Cressfallen hobbled in sometime after eleven. She had only one eye, as the other had putrefied and dissolved from an unrecorded ague, and bowed legs and hips that went clickity-clickety-clack whenever she took three steps - and clickity-clickity if she took two.

Petty: Oooh Luck just hobbled in.

Odo: That old dragon, Petty! She's uglier than you and your Mother put together.

Petty: That might be true now --- but see here, I have a plan.

Odo: Not Duckie-Buckie Mixer again?

Petty: You know me only too well.

Odo: That's so true, my bosom friend and compadre!

After that came the bit that Petty remembered forever after, but Odo denies ever happened.


THE END

I, uh ... what?

How drunk would Petty and Odo have to get to talk like that?

If I remember right Eldo about a dozen buckies apiece, with duckie chasers, or was it the other way round? Oh an some mushrooms I found growing on the underside of the bar that I put into Odo's drinks.

Mushroom spiking!!! I knew it!!! As if I ever would have got into any kind of elbow-business -- that's your style, not mine... {{{And I don't say that as an invitation for you to depict the elements of my style, Mr Tyrant, thank you very much! }}}


{{{I must seek Mirabella's advice on this... I wonder what the Statute of Limitations is for starting Criminal Proceedings against that dratted Scotshobbit?}}}

THE LION, THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE, AND THE RESPECTABLE HOBBIT

There is a little known tale (in fact I'm the only one knows it until now) that happened back exactly at the time of the Dark Planet Catastrophe.

You see, when the evil Planetarians invaded, Mr Odo Banks esquire heard the trudge of their heavy metal boots and decided to clean the inside of a wardrobe he had in the deepest cellar of his Mansesmial, which was hidden behind a door made to look like the wall of his cellar tunnel and where his best wines were stored for personal use.

(Odo had many cellars beneath the the bottomost room of his Mansesmial, though this is not to say he was magnificently wealthy, the economic times being what they were).

Why Odo decided to clean the inside of the wardrobe at just such a perilous moment, I do not know, but as the wardrobe was out of the way, almost forgotten, I guess it would have been very dusty indeed, especially if someone had inadvertently left it's door open.

Where the wardrobe had come from, no one really knows, and Odo has always says he doesn't quite remember, though maybe he bought it from a secondhand shop, who knows. It was a magical wardrobe as it turns out, but they were not uncommon in those days (apparently). Anyway, Odo did not know it was magical, just inexpensive considering how good it's wood and handcrafting was, not that he remembered much about how he got it as I already said, and he swears he didn't steal it, or kill anyone getting it, especially a frail defenceless old guy called Diggory, as that wouldn't be a respectable thing to do.

Anyhow, Odo popped in to clean it that dark day long ago. In his haste he quite forgot to take a duster. And he closed the door behind him. Which you should never do, of course, as you might get locked inside, so children of Forumshire, please never do that.

Once inside, Odo could no longer hear the trudge of metal booted doom, nor the hideous screams and shrieks of the approaching Dark Planetarian zombie-werewolves, or the clank of their swords and bayonets. Which was quite good, as Odo liked a quiet unotrusive life. The funny thing was, when Odo had pushed through the rows and rows of mink coats, he felt something cold and wet. He shivered.

"What the noggins has happened here?" our Odo said to himself in surprise. "I seem to have come out the back of the wardrobe and into a world of pines with snow on them!"

He brushed past some low hanging pine needles and into a white clearing with ice crunching under his feet. And he saw a bright-lit lampost in the middle of the clearing.

"Well, that's a surprising thing to see," says he. "My my my! It looks poistively Nineteenth Century - and is no doubt anachronistic - this being 1487 by the Forumshire Reckoning."

Full of curiousity, Odo wandered past the lampost and followed a narrow path until he came to another one that intersected it. Suddenly, a most curious creature, arms full of parcels, came trotting around a bend in the trees. Seeing Odo, it dropped it's parcels in the snow.

Well, you can imagine Odo's surprise. Why, the creature had a horned head, a human-like body and goats legs! No, I promise I'm not pulling your chain! Momentarily, Odo thought it was a Scotshobbit, but he quickly realized that Scotshobbits don't have human-like bodies - or at least not the horned-headed goat-legged ones.

"Hey fellow! What are you?"

"Oh I'm a faun," said the creature.

"A baby deer? You don't look like one! Come on, don't lie to me. I'm no stranger to liars and can spot one a mile away. Speak!"

"Oh I'm a faun, as in a creature from mythological Greece."

"Oh, I see," Odo said slapping his forward. "Silly ol' me! And me a hobbit who has read about a great many things I've never seen! Tell me, faun, do you have a name?"

"I am Mister Numnuts - it's the cold, you know! - and you...? Are you a Son of Eru?"

"Of course I am. And a respectable Son of Eru at that. Why are you so shocked to see me? I have got my trousers on... haven't I? .. Oh yes I have them on, which is thankfully a nice change of situation for me, but I'm prattling now... hee heee... Umm.... where are we then?"

"Well, Sir, this is Banana-nana-land. You know, the Sons of Eru never come here - except on Ruby Tuesday - which we haven't had for a hundred years, it being a Summer Festival, and it being Winter ever so long... It's been a hundred years actually. Did I just say that?"

"Banana-nana-land?" mused Odo, rolling the name through his mouth and over his tongue, almost tasting. "Well, never heard of it. Doesn't sound a Wintry name to me...."

"Yes, but it did once, especially back when we had a Summer."

Odo studied Mister Numnuts for a moment, and then shook his head in perplexity. Clearly things had gone odd again, a state he was no stranger to. In the pause, Mister Numnuts began to pick up his parcels. Odo gave him a hand, carefully weighing each parcel in his hand and shaking it carefully next to his ear before passing it back to the faun.

"Would you like to come to tea?" Mister Numnuts asked with a queer gleam in his eye.

Odo noticed the queer gleam, but as he had time on his hands he thought he may as well - and anyway the queer gleam might signify something different to what our gentlehobbit was thinking - and anyway he was a grown up hobbit who could make his own decisions. So off they went.

"Are they Erumas presents you carry, Mister Numnuts?"

"They are. Not that there's any point in having them, I can't remember just now why that is... Oh I just remembered! It's always Winter but never Erumas."

"Then why have you got those Erumas presents."

"You know, I've never thought about it? Every year I buy presents for Erumas at Erumas time but it never turns out to be Erumas. Never mind... Would you like the presents?"

"I certainly would. Are they worth anything?"

"I don't know. I don't know what's in them. No one does. Perhaps you could come with me to my little comfortable hole and you could open them and find out."

"That sounds lovely, faun."

"What is your name by the way?"

"Odo Banks."

"Well, what a coincidence that is! As there is a prophecy that a Son of Eru called Odo Banks will come one day... no, I'd rather not talk about it just now come to think - no, not just now.... Do you like tea and scones?"

"Yes, indeed!"

"I see we are going to be friends. May I call you Odo? You can call me Numnuts."

"How kind of you... err... Numnuts."

And they had a giggle.

"I may yet have a gay time of it," Odo thought optimistically. Aloud, Odo said, "Where are we going, Numnuts?"

"Oh to my hole under a tree. Very commodious it is, with no ends of worms in it either."

"Splendid!"

"Mister Lewis said the same thing, you know, before the accident; said it was a great idea worth borrowing - and he did! Off we go then!"

And Odo trotted after Mister Numnuts who skipped off at a gay old speed on his lithe and hairy goat legs.


TO BE CONTINUED

Im not convinced this tale will turn out to be very Wholesome at all!

I'm not sure why the Bugle says that this tale is little-known. I thought that it was common knowledge that Odo is in the closet.

Good one, Centurion! (Though I've heard one hobbit's closet is another hobbit's tower! )

Numnuts? isnt that what I gave Petty for dissing PJ?

Or, at least, should have! (Not for dissing PJ, just because.... )

Hey! Leave my nuts num or otherwise out of this! {{{note to self- get a padlock put on my kilt}}}

The tale continued:


Mister Numnuts lived in a cave under the roots of a great big tree, and when Odo had followed him inside the first thing he said was , "What a snug little hole you have."

"Yes, it was made by my father, Mister Bignuts, that's his photograph on the mantleshelf, beside the clock. Bignuts was a very happy faun."

"I can see why."

"I know. Got them from his Mother's side of the family, which is quite ironic, I'm sure. Please sit in this armchair by the fire."

"Oooh it looks awfully snug."

"For two, it is. I'll make you a nice cup of tea."

"Oh do."

"And I've got a can of sardines, and scones."

"And cream?"

"You must not rush me, Mister Banks, as I haven't had a male caller for quite some time."

And so Numnuts set about finding the foodstuffs he had mentioned and before long they were enjoying a rather lovely tea time together.

"Numuts," Odo asked after awhile, "Why is it always Winter here?."

Without removing his hand from Odo's knee, Numnuts said, "Oh it's The Two White Bitches, you see. The North Bitch and the South Bitch that's done it!"

"Bitches, or witches?"

"Yes - and horrible creatures - the wickedest , evilist, baddest Bitches a Bananaian might ever meet."

"That's awfuly tautolgical of them!" Odo smiled.

"And that's not the least of it... They turn their Enemies to bone!"

"What, kill them and let their flesh rot?"

"No, they turn them into stone - I meant stone, actually. They give their friends 'boners'. My mistake."

"They sound most horrible."

"Yes. Julia the South Bitch and Amarie the North Bitch are both White Bitches of the worst kind. But they're not based on real folk, purely fictional constructs, and of course within the internal construction and internal consistency of this tale extremely dangerous, just not dangerous to real people outside this story - like our Storyteller - who is in all innocene setting it down, if you know what I mean?"

"Why have they made it always Winter here?"

"Because they're Bitches. Which reminds me..." And Mister Numnuts pulled out his flute.

"My goodness, where did you pull that from?" Odo asked with a frown.

Numnuts ignored the question and began to play. It was a most alluring tune and Odo found himself drifting off, the next thing he was in the Year Twelve dormitory at Our Lady's. It seemed to be a very hot night, as the girls had stripped down to their slinkky underwear, and Odo's trousers were missing. One of the girls brought out a whip and another was tying his hands together with stockings.... then suddenly a rather small dragon rushed in and said, "Watch out you idiot, you're being enchanterated something chronic!"

"Kafria!" Odo mouthed in surprise. "Kafria? I thought you were drownded!"

Odo opened his eyes to find that Mister Numnut's hand had slid up his thigh.

"Mister Numnuts!"

Numnuts withdrew his hand.

"Oh no, not that - but why are you weeping?"

Indeed, Mister Numnuts was weeping and he now put his head in his hands. "I'm a very bad faun, a very very bad faun."

"Naughty, I would have said," Odo told him kindly.

"No, I'm positively evil."

Odo blushed. "Well, never mind. I am a growed up hobbit."

"You don't understand - I was enchanterating you so that I could hand you over to the two Wickedest White Bitches in living memory!"

"Oh dear! Why would you do that?"

"Because they want to make the prophecy prove false."

"What? You're being silly. Here, put your hand just ... here... and we might start where we'd left off..."

"No, no, no... Mister Banks. There's a prophecy that one day a Son of Eru will come, a gentlehobbit even, one of purest heart and mind. Yes, he will come here to free us of this ghastly Winter."

"And this pure hearted Son of Eru would be called 'Odo Banks'?"

"Exactly."

"I should not be surprised, but I must admit..."

"Quickly now, you must hurry back to where you came from."

"But the War can't be over yet..."

"No time for that."

"And I was hoping for another can of sardines..."

"No time for that either...

"And we've still got half a pint of cream, you know, for... you know..."

"No time even for that... Hurry hurry hurry! Flee, fly, foes!"

"Why does that sound familiar?"

Anyhow, Odo soon found himself locked out of Mister Numuts cave, and off he sprinted through the snow.

"I'm certainly not going back to Forumshire yet," he puffed. "I mean, I'm not afraid of zombie-werewolves or anything, but when does one get a chance to explore a whole new world. So ignoring his danger - he had not really listened to Mister Numnuts tale - he slowed to a walk and began to wander about.

Not long after that, he heard cheery jingle- jangle noises coming from the north.

There is whispering amid the trees,
The birds don't raise their voices,
Odo Banks is wandering around,
But soon he'll need to make wise choices,
For Two White Bitches slide on down
the icy road of Banana-nana-land,
and if he's not careful, folks,
they'll soon have him in their naked hands!

Part of the Son of Eru Prophecy -

by Wisey Banks

tautowhatical?

Boners?

Bignuts?

I told you this tale didnt seem very Wholesome.

you had to read it to believe it. I think he is doing a PJ and misrepresenting the facts. slightly.

the tale continued

"It sounds like a sled crunching and swizelling through the snow," Odo said. "Oh how delightful!"

He was right about the crunching, though I'm not sure about the swizelling, but anyway a sled drawn by an enormous snow-ostrich came around a bend of the path he was on.

It's driver was a horrid looking caricature of a hobbit - but more on that shortly.

In the big cushiony seat of the sled behind him were two extremely attractive women-like creatures, one with red hair and the other with black (possibly, as I haven't been told about the second one's hair colour) . They had lips absolutely plasted with red lip stick and wore a great blanket of fur over them, folded over itself at the front, though it had partly fallen away to to reveal the hint of naked limbs inside.

"My goodness," Odo said in surprise. "Fancy there being two naked ladies under a fur blanket in a sled in a Wholesome Tale! I never would have thought it could happen."

And I'm sure it's not the sort of thing you would have imagined either, dear reader.

"Hey, you vile little Scotshobbit, pull up the ostrich!" yelled the gorgeous red headed woman-like creature, which Odo immediately guessed was one of the White Bitches he had heard tell of.

"Look at the little fellow in the road, Julia - what a funny little fellow."

"Do you think it might be Him?"

"You mean: Odo Banks! "

"Indeed! "

The sled slid to a stop a few yards short of Odo. Odo addressed the driver in surprise, "Is that you, Mr Tyrant?"

The sled driver said, "Ock tha noo? Wot uh you torking aboot, Mun?

"It is you!"

"No it isn't!"

"Who else would it be?"

"Fook orf!"

"See!"

"Excuse me," said the red headed Bitch imperiously. "Who are you, funny little fellow?"

"I'm soopooosed to be uh fookin' dworff, m'lady."

"Not you, you idiot! I mean this other little fellow,"

While the dworff glowered, Odo now approached the two White Bitches. "My name is Odo Banks, and I'm a Son of Eru. And you, pray tell, will be Julia and Amarie."

"Who has been talking about us?" asked Amarie in a sweet voice that on the surface seemed very nice and polite but was underwitten with pure evil.

"That would be a nice chap by name Mister Numnuts," Odo smiled.

"Well, he's fooked noo then," grinned the dworff.

"Shush you up, dworff," the red headed Bitch hissed. "You're mouth is the size of a cavern!"

"Fookin bitch..."

"Never mind them," said Amarie sweetly to Odo. "They're always fighting. Why not climb up here inside our fur blanket. Do you like Norwayan Delight?"

"I'm not sure I've ever had any."

"Well then," Julia smiled winningly, like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, "you must try some Manchestian Delight too."

And Odo jumped up on the sled immediately, as he had - much like the Storyteller - often had pleasant fantasies about this kind of thing and was chary of missing a golden opportunity.

"Hey, get out!" Julia bellowed. "No one asked you!"

"Fookin bitch...." the dworff growled as he landed in the snow.


to be continued

Thats more like it. Only red hair and red lipstick is not very flattering. But Oz ladies probably still wear mullets and dungarees, so I will let you off the sartorial hook..

You know I'm sure I could sue the Bugle for slander!
Now what was the name of those lawyers Pure Publications use? Ah yes Angmar and Sons. We'll see about this!

Not classy Mrs Figg - not classy at all. Ozhobbit women with mullets... True.... but is it classy to say it???

And why so sensitive, Petty, the dworff himself denies he is Mr Tyrant!

You better hope that holds up in court as an excuse!

I litterary LOL-ed.
A good laugh prolongs your life, we say in Fjordlandia, directly translated.
Laugh and you'll live longer.
So at least it is a slightly wholesome tale.

((And since you wondered: I have brown hair, not unlike my avatar. Blue eyes, long, brown hair and glasses.))

Of course "Amarie" is purely a fictional construct Anon tells me, but I think blue eyes, brown hair and glasses would give her a better sense of solidification as a "character", and only as a "character" of course - purely a fantasy figure - or a figure of Anon's fantasies... or something like that!

Yes, of course.

I hate to say it, but evil tongues might claim that black haired Amarie reminded them of Morgana from BBC's Merlin. Now it will be far more clear that she is purely a character from Anon's head. A witch with glasses! Brilliant! Who, besides JKR, would have thought of that.

Not that I'd ever claim that Anon had borrowed from other people's creations, but less intelligent people out there might...

My feeling about this Amarie is, Anon is not the kind of author who would ride lazily on the back of great writers, using their brilliant ideas as a foundation on which to build a flimsy construction of innuendos, corny jokes, salacious gossip, and all with the very low purpose of making cheap shots at real people that he is actually too frightened to look in the face, and distorting any truths about them - indeed, pretending to truths he has totally made up about them - thereby deriving some kind of banal, dirty, grubby (ultimately pathetic) gratification enjoyed in the private safety of his bower. That would be the wrong kind of thing for a writer of Anon's integrity and decency to do, methinks.

I also think has been moved by your ideas of glasses, blue eyes and brown hair!