LITTLE FORUMSHIRE in FULL COLOUR (Unwanted visitors risk interference!)

THE OLIPHAUNT CRYSTALS

Introduction:

Once upon a time, when Orwell Jackaboots McOdo (the 8th) was but knee high to a grasshopper - though a rather large grasshopper notwithstanding, and perhaps a cockroach in old Mister Banks's case - of a Thursday evening little Orwell would sit at the foot of Mister Odo, esquire, and sometimes on his knee, which was cause for later personal psychological issues which do not come into this tale; and Old Mister Odo would tell young Orwell, along with any other children brave enough to be often gathered there, fine rollicking tales of ages past; of derring do and perilous adventures. Of knights and ladies, and gentlehobbits and maidens, and knavish hobbits and their hobbit female associates, the kind of associates Mrs Figg would recognize quite well, if you know what I mean, and I'm sure you do. And of all the fine tales, Orwell loved best the Tale of the Oliphaunt Crystals, which the young hobbit never got tired of. Indeed, he was a boring stoic child, and nothing like that fabulous jewell of the McOdo brood, Orwell 11 (A finer hobbit mind has not been seen in Forumshire or Little Forumshire it's said, and by Orwell 11 himself no less ).

Anyway, one balmy night when Old Mister Odo was in his parlour with a crew of youngsters, Orwell 8th piped up and cried: "Oh Mister Odo, could we please please please have The Tale of The Oliphaunt Crystals again."

"Oh fuck. Not that again," Norc groaned. A pretty little hobbit lass she was, young Norc, but with a mouth that could peel paint off walls. "Why can't we have the Tale of Norc's Flexible Mother. We haven't heard that since yesternight, Mister Odo!"

"And I never told it," Mister Odo said in surprise.

"My Mummy says that was a documentary," little Halfy said in all innocence. "But I don't want to hear about Mister Odo and Norc's Mother behind the barn again - that's last week's news! How about The Tale of Transpiration and Chlorophyll - not that I know how to spell Clorophyll, and there's not a dictionary handy to find out - not in the middle of a story anyhoo. It's a mighty tale that Tale of Transpiration and Chlorophyll is."

"Anything but that," cried Davey whose family had had a plain awful cranberry harvest that year and Davey himself had gone quite off the weather and any other geophysical matters.

"I want to hear about The Harlot of Needlehole," Julia Figg squealed. "It's my favorite."

"I think you mean the Helot of Needlehole," Mister Odo said kindly, looking the young hobbit lass up and down with her sprouting red hair and shorty pyjamas, his eyes seeming to linger here and there, though it might have been a trick of the parlour candelabras. "But as young Petty McTyrant (the 4th) is here, we should not be talking about thrifty dishonest Scotshobbits of the Serf Class, now should we?"

"I don't want to hear about Scotshobbits," Julia Figg grumbled in a sudden pout. "I want to hear about ladies like my Mummy and her Mummy before her."

"Do you mean like Norc's Mummy?" Orwell asked in all innocence.

"Kooky Carly, what would you like to hear?" Mister Odo asked, changing the subject, as there were dark rumours about Norc's Mother, and he thought it best not to keep mentioning her in front of the kiddies. "You haven't had a turn choosing for ages, Kooky."

"That's because no one likes her," Orwell put in helpfully.

"I do," said Amarie.

"You would," Orwell glowered.

"So do I," Eldo said.

"And me," said Azriel.

Orwell rolled his eyes like this:

"Being disliked by interesting hobbits like you and I, Orwie, is no reason not to give Kooky a turn choosing a Tale," Mister Odo said reasonably. "Now is there, young Orwie"?"

"Guess not," Orwell said glumly.

"I want to hear the Tale of the Oliphaunt Crystals," Kooky Carly said suddely and with passion. Which surprised them all, but it was just as well, because I think it's about time we started, don't you think? Hmm?

amarie will forever whisper courageous and dangerous,noble thoughts into my soul..

get on with it then. quit teazing

ONE

Long, long ago (Mister Odo began) --- and long before Kooky Carly discovered Little Forumshire and ruined it's quality, along with Norc, and not, of course, her effervescent and extremely obliging Mother --- there was a superb King in Little Forumshire, King Odo the Magnificent. Also known today as the Jelly King...

["Ol' King Jellybelly do you mean?" Azriel asked - not that she knew anything, and Mister Odo ignored her - and rightly so].

... King Odo had taken a fancy to jelly whilst still a dapper handsome Prince of the Realm, for his father, a mighty thegn, McOdo McOdo Hardspike, the Danish Sensation so-called, was something of a jelly lover and had learned the lad a thing or two about the use of jelly, both in a business and in a social sense (some of his enterprises mixed business and sociability, and very profitably).

McOdo McOdo Hardspike often travelled to Skattykatzenfjord in Fjordianlandia searching for jellies and girls ("The perfik combination' as what he oft said with a glint in his eye), seeing as the Fjordianianlandian hobbit lads weren't partial to the latter, leaving a large supply for girl-hungry Danes.

So while in Skattykatzenfjord, McOdo McOdo would often visit the Great Fjordianlandian Jelly Halls seeking new experiences. And the Fjordianlandian girls were always keen to oblige with imagination, dexterity, flexibility and agreeability, if it meant being admired by a Danish hobbit lad and hopefully perpetuating the Fjordianlandian race.

Ringo Herring (the 6th) was a prosperess burgher of the town whose Fisk and Skatzenberry Jellies were world renowned (at the time)(back then). Anyhow, one chill windy Fjordanlandian morning, McOdo McOdo sauntered into Ringo's Great Jelly Hall on Firth Street, and he says: "I'm taking a skona or two but I'd give a thousand drakmas for a Roman coin's worth of newfangled jelly."

Ringo looked up in despair. "But Sir! You have eaten, bathed and frolicked in every known variety... well, almost..."

"Almost' you say?"

"Well, I should not mention this - but if you're willing to go on a perilous journey that you are unlikely to survive, there is one flavour you might seek..."

"And that is?"

"Oliphaunt flavoured jelly. You must travel to Darkest Halfrica..."

"To the jungle lands of our dark skinned progenators, you mean?"

"The same, though I'm not sure at all that that's how it's spelled."

"The Halfrican Genesis, I've heard of it," McOdo McOdo mused aloud, "and Progenator Jelly as well..." his voice trailed off.

"Also known as Oliphaunt Jelly..."

"The same."

"It wil be a dangerous journey and many have died in the attempt, McOdo! Indeed none have ever returned!" "

"I'll send Prince Odo then," McOdo proclaimed.


to be continued....

An Adventure For Jelly! (or should that be in jelly? )

but little forumshire is my home so giggle at the ghostly and chortle at the kooky while i go and cry about hurtful comments ~

Well if that doesnt break the flinty old heart of Odo I dont know what will.

My heart's turned to jelly {{{apparently }}}

CC12 35 wrote:but little forumshire is my home

Bloody illegal immigrants!

TWO

Prince Odo was a brave hobbit, possibly the bravest hobbit ever known, in Little Forumshie at least, and so when McOdo McOdo told him the news he verily jumped for joy, or very nearly verily (apparently).

"You will need a sword, a sack, and a batman," McOdo advised is strapping son.

"A sack, Father?"

"Yes. A big sack, for as you know, jelly doesn't grow on trees fully formed and needing a bucket to transport - no matter what Kooky Carly thinks - but are formed as crystals in Eru's good earth. They are so natural that even Vegans eat them."

"Hobbits fom the planet Vega?"

"No, no, no.. I mean those dreary hippyhobbits from Bree --- and, of course, your annoying illegal immigrant types like Kooky Carly too (probably)(almost certainly)... Now, I'm quite partial to natural crystals transformed into delightfully squelchy food-cum-playcentres-in-a-tub, Prince Odo," McOdo continued with a distant gleam in his eye, as if he was remembering young ladies, and large tubs, and impassioned small wagers along the bar. "But I would not ever have you think I don't love a tender breast (or two) on the bird as well, or moist loins between succulent haunches, or a nice beefy rump steak you can clasp with two hands - or maybe, in a lost moment, all of them at once in a mixed-sizzle squirted with white sauce and smothered in fragrant juices."

"You have always been a man's hobbit, Father, but never in a homosexual way."

"Darn tootin', Son! Anyhoo, pack your stuff and off you go."

"But who, Father, shall I take as my batman?"

"It'll have to be that Poncho McTyrant lad... cheap they say (in all ways)(apparently)."

"You don't mean that hideous Hebridean Sucksauce!"

"You never know, but under the lonely trailing fronds of the dark and sweaty jungles of Halfica, he may yet do you a service..."

"Oh alright, Father, if you say so. So long as I only have to pay him in food and buckie."

"Food? That's if he'll eat it, of course..."

And so shortly thereafter - after Prince Odo picked up Poncho McTyrant from the Lost Scotshobbits Home in Archet - the adventure began. This by first catching the Cobb and Co coach from Little Forumshire to Buckland Junction...


to be continued...

The Archet Bugle wrote:
"Oh fuck. Not that again," Norc groaned. A pretty little hobbit lass she was, young Norc, but with a mouth that could peel paint off walls.

Good stuff as always Archet Bugle!

'hideous Hebridean Sucksauce' you shouldnt talk about Petty like that Archet Bugle.

I thought that was just what they used to cover up the taste of haggis.

halfwise wrote:

The Archet Bugle wrote:
"Oh fuck. Not that again," Norc groaned. A pretty little hobbit lass she was, young Norc, but with a mouth that could peel paint off walls.

OI!

I thought that was just what they used to cover up the taste of haggis.- Halfwise


OI!

I wonder what Kooky Carly's got up her sleeve

i don't wanna comment on speculation

THREE

From Buckland Junction Prince Odo and Poncho took the coach to the Old Forest Turnpike Intersector and turned right along the Greenway. It was a long journey through boring lands - just lots of plain white spaces on the Forumshiran map - and eventually Prince Odo, in desperate need of hobbit conversation, finally lowered himself to talk to Poncho.

"Young people!" Prince Odo burst out, having stewed over many cynical and violent thoughts for some time, "Bless Eru, but why?"

"Ock the nelly noo haggis ta sauce and stuff?"

"I know that of course, Poncho, but sometimes I wonder why hobbits need to go through growth stages at all, it's not like we're humans. I mean why not be born like lizards, who, though born small, are fully formed very quickly, and if they survive long enough, become large respectable lizards."

"Ock za noodee diddly?"

"Well, Mister Smartysauce, the ones in Little Forumshire are respectable anyhow. The real problem as I see it is this 'esoteric' phase some of 'em seem to insist on going through nowadays."

"Ock noodle dee doodle?"

"Yes. But let's not talk about it anymore, I'm getting annoyed just thinking about it."

"Boodle chickee littlies, ock?"

"You really need to move n from the Hebridean vernacular, Poncho, I mean to say! I mean, you're in the Wider World now! ... But you're right, I don't like children either. You know, when my Father was Hobbitthegn of Westralia, he served roast children three times a week. Very environmental that, turning feral beasts into a perfect source of vitamins and minerals."

"Loodlelook de diddly, ock?"

"Yes and protein - that goes without saying... Ponch, it goes without saying."

"Ock the nelly nock the noo nellikins?

"True enough. We do have to perpetuate the species, but it was only ever the naughty children. My point is, if we had still been acting in the traditional manner back awhiles, the likes of Kooky Carly, Norc and Rodney (and Lord Eldo, let's be frank) would not be around to trouble older respectable hobbits like me."

"Ock da doo doodly?"

"Yes, and even mature Scotshobbits like you, Poncho... and we really must do something about your diction... Now sing after me, 'The rain in Bywater is wetter than it oughta...'"

to be continued...

,

Petty actually made sense for once. och da diddly.

{{{ }}}

FOUR

Poncho's elocution lesson did not go well and within a few hours by silent mutual agreement, and to avoid further aggravation, the two Adventurers' moved tactfully on to other topics of interest...

"Nock ellikins za weevil Star Trek nock nooody? Naw chop suey sprouts za piece of cotton, Hornblower!"

"I really don't know if you're right or not, Poncho," Prince Odo said, troubled, his long held views dented by Poncho's new-to-him suggestion. "I guess it could have been true, but your inference only makes me think you're doubting Vance's originality."

"Ock za noo!"

"Look, I'm sure you didn't mean it as a sleight of the Great Man - but nonetheless you've got me thinking."

"Horblower pull-o-pull tug-oh-tug nock nooly nigglewiggle?"

"What book was that?"

"Ho-ho the heaveho nam willy-waggle nook nook!" Poncho almost yelled in frustration.

"Much as I delve into my reservoir of memories, I still can't for the life of me say I'm familiar with that one... "


to be continued....