Amarie's Adventures in Forumland

Chapter Six Six Five

"I'm getting hungry," Azriel complained about three days later as they pushed through the fronds and vines of sub-tropical Murkwood. "I wouldn't mind a thick black cucurbit just now."

"Or a banana," Julia complained too, sweat saturating her summer dress so as to make it almost see through if you could get yourself into a position with the sun behind her.

"Tropical cockbean?" Azriel suggested exploratively, her own dress see through too, having whipped off her petticoats for a bandana.

"A cucumber would not seem out of the question in these Southern climes," Amarie said sadly and began to weep. She had sewn an extra skirt of jungle reed to wrap about her child bearing hips, having become more and more demure as the tale progressed.  

Just then, Richard Cucumberback came scuttling past. "I'm late, I'm late. I'm very very late!" cries he.

"Follow him!" Amarie cried bossily. "I think he'll lead us to the Wicked Witch of the West."

"How can you possibly know that?" Julia grumpily wanted to know, she being the kind of young woman who got grumpy when tired, or hungry, or for no good reason, or for lots of good reasons too many to list.

"I don't know," Amarie cried over her pertite shoulder as she ran in pursuit of that handsome Sherlockian character. "But as he's going West, I suspect I might be right."

"West!" Azriel and Julia squealed triumphantly.

Now you may, dear reader, be wondering why they had been travelling south in the first place when clearly the Wicked Witch of the West was the Wicked Witch of the West for a reason. All I can say is, I dont know, Womenology not being my strong point, and I'm not afraid to say so, being a truthful Narrator. (By the way, this is why you can rely on what I'm telling you, dear reader. Everything in this tale being the truth, however salacious, for my Mother's Mother told it to my Mother and my Mother's Mother's Mother told it to my Mother's Mother before that, though it might have been a Great Great Aunt now as I come to think on it, and it sent her mad, just as it has maddened women ever since).

"I feel so peeky," Julia said as she now jogged through the jungle after Amarie. "I don't know that I could do anything to Richard even if I could catch him."

"We could eat him," Azriel puffed as she stumbled along behind her. "We could strip him and eat him raw."

"We could kill two birds with one stone," Julia brightened.

"What ever do you mean by that, Sis?"

"I don't know - but I have my theories - and frankly, I'm getting a bit sick of this kind of story telling."

"Well, it's bloody-well unlikely to change. You should know that by now," Azriel puffed, she being a pragmatic sort.

Julia scowled wistfully, "I just sometimes wish I could at least be the demure one."

"Didn't you say something like that last chapter?"

"I think so. And I mean it!"

"You don't really."

"Bitch!"

"Anyway, I think it's got to do with credibility or some such thing," Azriel opined. "I mean, let's face it, I'm not treated much better either. The bright side is, at least I'm not described as an over sexed dumpy potato with oily skin. I kind of like being described as svelte and sexy with large melons. One must be thankful for small mercies - and large melons."

"One must be careful what one says aloud, Azriel!" Julia said nervously. "You just never know with these tales! You might yet be turned into a potato if you're not careful. And where did anyone say you were svelte and sexy with large melons?"

"I did - not three sentences ago. I wish you'd listen."

Then a distant wistful look came into Julia's eyes. "I wish you did have large melons, Azriel. I should ever so much like to suck one just now."

"Oh dear!" Azriel said, shocked. (Apparently). "I fear you have grossly misundertood what I meant by melons. Imagine if some disgusting middle aged hobbit was to read this!"  

"But..."

"No, be quiet, I think it best we say nothing." Azriel told her firmly. "Then we can't possibly be misinterpreted,"

"Say nothing?" Julia asked in a surly tone. "For how long?"

"For the rest of this tale, I'd say."

"Bloodly likely. I am a woman, you know."

Just then - when things might have been getting a bit tricky for Narrators - Amarie screamed.

"Oh my gawd!" Azriel cried out in alarm. "I hope she hasn't stumbled on a bandersnatch again!"

And Azriel and Julia's mouths dropped open in abject horror at the mere thought!   

''How can you possibly know that?" Julia grumpily wanted to know, she being the kind of young woman who got grumpy when tired, or hungry, or for no good reason, or for lots of good reasons too many to list.''

   you really do know me dont you?

 Biblically you mean?

 

 

 

Chapter Eighty Eight

"I wonder where that scream came from?" Julia panted in the hot heat of the jungle.

"I think it was over this way," Azriel retorted. "Quick! Over this way!"

Amarie then screamed again, and it was over this way. But, oddly enough, this second scream was different, for it was a happy scream, a scream of sheer delight, like as if Amarie had arrived at two shoe shops unexpectedly in the jungle, which was possibly the last place you'd expect to find one shoe shop, let alone two.

Azriel and Julie burst through a gropeyfingers bush and found her. And gawd dammit, you probably won't belive this Dear Reader, but there was a clearing with two rather splendid shops in it.

"Well, this is possibly the last place I'd expect to find two shoe shops," Azriel exclaimed.

"Damn right!" Julia replied wide eyed.

"Oh Sisters," Amarie said to them with her hands held delightedly to the cheeks of her face like an excited little girl when she's just been told Father Christmas would be slipping into her bedroom bearing a rather large package sometime while she slept. "When I ran out here, I had such a fright, and then it all turned out fine."

"What ever do you mean?" Azriel asked.

"Well, when I chased Richard Cucumberback here, I found these two shops, but then I saw that they were both closed. I then felt such cold blooded horror I screamed as if I had met a bandersnatch (again). But then, as I lay on the sward in the swoon I'd swooned, I opened my eyes and saw that the Open signs had been put out and the doors opened for business!"

"That must have been when you screamed in delight!" Julia clapped her hands.

"It was! It was!"

"Which shop should we try first?" Julia asked excitedly. "Oooh I'm so excited. I haven't shopped once since this tale began."

"I didn't know you were such a fanatical shopper," Azriel said.

"In this tale I am. Ol' Anon would have no idea what I'm like in real life."

"I'd rather shop than eat," Amarie sighed, her cheeks all lit up in rosy joy.

"I'd forgotten in the excitement we were starving," Azriel commented thoughtfully. "I wonder if the shop keepers have any food about?"

"Hello, hello, hello," said a very handsome voice from the door of one of the shops.

The young women looked across at the rather resplendantly dressed figure. Very colourful and dapper he was, almost technicoloured.  

"My goodness," Julia said. "He looks like the Wizard of Oz himself."

"Oh no," laughed the handsome man in the doorway. "I'm just a well dressed colourfully handsome chap from Ozhobbitstan - and the humble owner of this fabulous shop."

The young women looked up at the sign over the door.


"Orwell's Fabulous Shoe and Technicolour Slipper Shoppe.'  


"Oooooooh!" the young women ooooooohed.

"Darn nabbit," drawled a less handsome voice - it being American with the slightest hint of Canadadian. "What would ye young wimmin be a lookin' at thart shop for? It's not awthennic."      

"What a peculiar chap," said the three young women as they addressed the other shop keeper as he stood in his doorway.

And what a funny fellow he was with his long beard (admittedly, he had a fabulous beard, I have at least to admit that, this being a true tale) and his rustic countrified grey clothing.

"Are you that Halfy fellow we've heard tell of in other tales?" Julia asked.

"Haw! Haw! Haw!" the chap laughed. "Far be it, gal! Far be it! Me name's Farmer Bill the Cranberry Farmer and Shoe Store Part Timer. Come in here ye three, and I'll show you a thing or three."

"Shoes you mean?" Amarie asked.

"What else?"

"You don't happen to have any... um... vegetables, do you?" Amarie asked nervously.

"Ha! So you've heard of me marv'lous viggitibbles have ye? Finest viggitibles in Forumland they says. But who the fook they are I have no idea!"

"He may have splendid vegetables," Orwell said grandly. "But would you buy vegetables from a shoe shop owner such as the likes of a Colonial hobbit who lives too close to the Canadian border?"

"Mmm... you have a point.... I think...." Amarie said.

They now looked up at the sign above Cranberry Dave's door.


'The Olde Black and White Shoe and Boots Emporium.'


"My heart misgives me about that shop," Azriel whispered to her sisters.

"But look at the Sale Sign in the window," Julia pointed out.


'Vigitibbles of Wonderful Proportion and Shape Fair Fit to please any Woman FREE with Every Purchase.'


"And we are starving," Amarie said sensibly.

"Do you have any food to give away with your shoes, Mister Orwell?" Julia now asked.

"I could I guess share my sausage with you," Orwell said quickly. "Not that there's much to go around."

"We are pretty hungry," Azriel mused. "Oh dear. It's a hard choice as it appears clear we'll have to buy a pair of drab black and/or white shoes if we want to get a large carrot or cucurbit in our mouths. Personally, I'm not sure I'd settle for a sausage that sounds more like a cocktail frankfurt."

"If his shoes even came in sepia, I'd understand," Orwell put in suavely. "But black and/or white? I mean, why would any self respecting woman want to remain alive if she was forced by circumstances to own such a limited choice of coloured footwear? I mean, are black and white even colours?"

The young women were now sitting painfully on the horns of a dilemna. Three horns in fact. One each. It being a three horned dilemna.

"I hear as Orwell's sausage is not only a wee bit tiny, but wrinkly to boot," Farmer Dave said with evil cunning. "Hardly would satisfy any current need you wimmen might have. My vigitibbles leave any woman fulfilled and content. And they're full of fibre - none of it moral."

"What a strange thing to say," Amarie opined.

"Though, I have to say, there's somethimng tantalizing about that comment," Azriel smiled. "And we do need to eat."

"Wait! Wait!" Orwell said quickly. "Why not have a 'slipper' competition to decide?"

"Darn nabbit!" Dave cussed.

"Shut up, Farmer Dave," Orwell shot back. "Surely even you are up for a fair contest!"

"A sliper competition?" Azriel asked. "As in 'fluffy' slippers?"

"No," Orwell answered. "I realise this is going to sound somewhat bizarre - but beautiful ladylike shoes are called 'slippers' in Forumland."

Farmer Dave rolled his eyes. "Shooos, they be. Shoooos!"

"Anyway, what about it ladies?" Orwell asked and gave them his winningmost smile, which when put together wth his dapper clothing, made him look rather like a pimp.

"It seems the only way open to us," Julia said.

"It is, you know," Orwell grinned again. "I know the Author you see."

"All right. Bring out your slippers," Amarie said decisively.

And so the two store keepers disappeared and soon reappeared. They both had a pair of ladies shoes/slippers in their hands.

The three young women hurried forward.

Orwell's slippers were a lovely ruby red and fit or the foot of any Princess or girl from Kansas.

Farmer Bill's shoes were a silver/grey indiscriminate colour.

"Well, what do you think?" Orwell asked grinning broadly, a triumphant gleam in his eye.

"What's that under your arm, Farmer Dave?" Azriel asked suddenly.

"Aw!" says Farmer Dave with an evil smile. "It just be a long and smooth cucumber fit to fully satisfy a woman or three." And his smile turned into a charming Cheshire grin as his beard began to sway hypnotically back and forth...

"I feel all warm a fuzzy all of a sudden," Julia sighed.

"Oh I should ever so much like to hold that fine cucumber," Azriel sighed too, her mouth becoming very moist.

"I am sooooo hungry for a vegetable just like that," Amarie said blushingly, and very much in a state of preswoon.

Then everything went funny in their heads.

Swirling sepia.

Bright technicoloured flowers flew about them.

A black and white dog called Toto began to bark in alarm.

A horse of a different colour trotted in playing the violin.

Orwell was hitting Farmer Dave over the head with what looked like a rather wrinkly sausage.

Farmer Dave was prodding Orwell's rather large tummy with a gigantic and suggestive cucurbit....

And then the young women knew no more....

  jeepers!

"The young women were now sitting painfully on the horns of a dilemma. Three horns in fact. One each. It being a three horned dilemma."


You sir are a comedy genius! Beautifully structured. I hate you!   

I had missed that bit   

Chapter Thirty Three and a Third

The young women woke to find themslves tied up to three posts and naked except for the bits the ropes concealed, which wasn't much, as they were very thin ropes.  

"I knew something like this was going to happen sooner or later," Amarie said glumly.

"Yes,"  said a darkly evil handsome voice sardonicallly. "You fell for our cunning plan. We've enchanterated you something chronic. Well, at least Dave's beard has. And now we plan to do things you've never experienced before."

"Orwell!" Juila smiled. "I never thought you had it in you. And I swear I'm up for a bit of exquisite torment. For gawd's sake, I've been waiting long enough. I do hope you've washed though."

"What the hell is she talking about?" Orwell asked Dave scratching his head.

"I haven't the foggiest," Dave answered scratching his head. "Anyway, let's get changed."

And before the three young women's startled eyes, the two hobbits dressed in their dresses, even wearing their knickers for added authenticity. Well, that's Azriel and Julia's dresses and knickers. Amarie's were a bit drab and pedestrian for them.

And before you could say, "Norc is a girl with eyes in her head' the two began their impersonation of the Two Ronnies impersonating two middle aged women singing bawdy songs with the backing of the imaginary Little Chatsworthy Auxillary Ladies Choir.

I can tell you it was amazing.

Imagine the two cleverest funniest bawdiest male hobbits in pretty dresses you can imagine and you'll only imagine it half as imaginatively as it really was. And if that doesn't make sense, it doesn't have to, because this tale is set in Forumland remember.

After that, the two hobbits untied the three naked young women, who all looked a bit stunned. (That's how good Orwell and Dave had been, not that either of them would ever brag).

"I'm not sure I want my knickers back," Azriel said, sniffing her knickers suspiciously. "Mine now smell of cranberries."

"Mine smell like kangaroo poo," Julia cried, turning up her nose, and looking at Orwell with a peculiar new understanding.

"Get dressed and off you go," Dave told them brusquely. "A group of Fjordialandian Tourists are arriving any minute."

"Yes," Orwell smiled. "And you can't begin to imagine what we're planning for them." And Orwell set to rubbing his hands with herring oil.

The three young women got dressed - two of hem reluctantly - and they headed off into the trees.

"I shouldn't say it, but I feel slightly deflated," Azriel said.

"Me too," Julia grimaced casting one last hostile glance back at Orwell as they passed under the first leafy bough.

"Not me! I feel we have been spared a horribly sexualized situation," Amarie said brightly. "I think Eru must be on our side."

Just then Richard Cucumberback ran past them crying, "I'm late! I'm late! I'm very very late!"

"Even he's starting to shit me," Julia grumbled.

"Heaven help that annoying bastard when we catch up!" Azriel snarled.

I almost feel sorry for the poor Fjordian party!   

And here was me thinking the NotP would be casting this as another invation.   Colour me bemused.   

Chapter Three


The three young women followed a well laid path through the trees which gradually became trees of temperate species as they headed further west. Richard Cucumberback was running in front of them and he must have been getting tired because they managed to keep him in sight this time, even though the three young women had not eaten anything for however long this story has been going.

"My legs are sore and wobbly," Julia complained as they went.

"My stomache is empty and flapping like a giant deflated beach ball," Azriel complained. Though she quickly added. "I don't mean that literally though because my body - at least in this tale - is taut and terrific."

"I would do anything for a savoury meal of some sort," Amarie sighed. "Even something a little spicy, but not too spicy, and definitely not saucy, I'd rather die."

"It's amazing how demure she's gets with every passing chapter," Julia confided.

"Too true," Azriel confided back. "It's like the Narrator is deriving some secret pleasure from making her more and more prudish."

"I wonder if she'll end up a hypocritical prune faced Erubian Nun by the end of it all?"

"Who knows. It's at least possible."

"Anything, of course, is possible."

"What about things that we've never thought of that are impossible."

"It's not possible to think up impossible things, Sis."

"Isn't it?"

"Umm.... I don't know really."

And so with that in mind, the girls stumbled on, getting hungrier and wearier by the minute.

At last, about three o'clock Thursday, they came to an intersection in the path and Richard Cucumberback was right there too, and he collapsed in front of them, panting heavilly.

The three young women surrounded him and closed in.  

"You know," Julia said. "I almost don't want to strip him naked now. I'm too tired."

"Same here," Azriel said, and plonked down on the path beside Richard. "Isn't it always the way. I've been fantasizing about what I might do with him for what seems like years, and now I just can't be bothered."

"I wonder if I could talk to him about Eru?" Amarie wondered.

"What?" Julia demanded to know.

"Well, I've had quite awhile to think about it," Amarie said slowly and deliberately. "And what I've been thinking is, if I could convert Richard to Erutianity, then we might start up a Mystery Sect in Dorsetshire together."

"What a strange gangrel idea!" Azriel opined in surprise.

"Yeah, don't be daft, Amarie. Let's just ask him what he's so fookin' late for."

"Good point," Azriel concurred.  

"Oh dear! He's so still now!" Amarie gasped.

"What?" Julia wanted to know. "Oh Gawd! He's dead!" Julia bent down and touched his prone form. "I can't find a pulse. Yep! Carked it!"

"Oh what a waste of a blameless life!" Amarie said melodramatically and began to weep.

"Well, not a total waste," Azriel said pragmatically as she got up to find some firewood.

"Eexcellent idea," Julia said, reading her mind.

"You don't mean...?" Amarie gasped in abject horor.

"Let's not be sentimental, Amarie," Julia said with quite a dash of scorn. "There's no point wasting him."

And that's exactly what they didn't do. And I'm afraid it may come as a shock to you, Dear Reader, but Richard Cucumberback didn't taste a bit like cucumber.

Thankgod we've at least got camaraderie ! Apart from sticky knickers, we girls are keeping together !   

I had always wondered why I dont like the taste of Cumberland sausages and now I know.   

Mrs Figg wrote:I had always wondered why I dont like the taste of Cumberland sausages and now I know.   

   

azriel wrote:Thankgod we've at least got camaraderie ! Apart from sticky knickers, we girls are keeping together !   

The best imaginary sisters an imaginary girl could dream of!   

who's been eating cumberland- sausages!?

Chapter Seven

Once Amarie got over her inititial unease, she quite enjoyed her piece of roasted Cucumberback. In fact she later became a notorious man eater. They all did. They even started a Singing Trio called the Fine Young Lady Cannibals which were all the rage around Worcestershire, but that was a few weeks later when they were no longer beautiful young women but beautiful young temptresses and Amarie had grown out of her superstitious Holy phase and liked nothing more than honey-waxed pole dancing and eating audience members when they came seeking her autograph.

"I couldn't eat a bit more," Julia groaned. "And I'm really not sure I liked his sausage. It tasted nothing like as good as I imagined it would."

"Sausage?" Azriel replied contentedly patting her rather swelling belly through her pretty but now very begrimed dress.

"Cucucumberback sausage..."

"Oooh, I see," Azriel giggled. "Only you, you know."

"Tush!" Julia retorted, but she spoke in good humour as she was always in a better mood when she wasn't starving.

"Perhaps if we found the right kind of leaves for wrappings and grass to use as twine, we could take the uneaten bits with us," Azriel said, being the most practical of the three. "In a sense, it would be a further outrage against humanity if we didn't."

So after taking time to ease their gasses, the three young women went out into the trees and found just the right kind of flora needed for their purposes. Amarie even made back packs for them, being at that point in time more seamstress than temptress.

Presently, they were ready to set out again.

If you remember, they were at a crosspath. The path to the right (south) looked well made and well lit and well used and inviting. The path to their left (north) looked to be cramped darkly by forest, giant cobwebs and was obviously sinister. They decided to go south, which was to all extents and purposes a sensible decision.

"We can only hope at some stage to find a path that heads west again," Amarie said.

"Or come to the end of Murkwood and get out of this forest," Azriel stated.

"I only hope we don't have any more adventures," Julia offered openly. "Not that I mind adventures per se, mind you. It's just I always feel dissastisfied after them. It's like there's always a build up but never a climax."

The other two - yes, even the puritanical Amarie - began to giggle.

"Oh stop it, you two!" Julia scowled at them. "You know what I meant."

"That's why we're giggling," Azriel continued giggling.

Julia couldn't help joining in. It is simply amazing what a solid feed of Richard Cucucumberback can do for a young woman's spirits.

They travelled for a day and a half after that, always southward, and nothing alarming happened at first. They even found a well with pure water in it drawn up on a chain in a bucket. They even took the opportunity to wash their underwear and dresses. They also washed the grime and grease from their voluptuous bodies, and untangled and washed the leaves and twigs and spider webs out of their hair. Amarie made a comb out of a pinecone and they combed for the first time in days. They felt good after that, and looked even better.

They lay down for a refreshing nap in the evening cool and dreamed they were on a gorgeous beach together.




The only negative was that by the evening of the next day, after making good progress along the path, they ran out of Richard Cucumberback.

Indeed, it turned out most fortunate that a young lad on vacation by name Eldorion Peevishboy came their way and was never seen again --- well, not recognisably.



"You know," Amarie commented when they were wrapping up the leftovers. "I've always been fond of that tasty young man but I never knew how truly tasty he really was until now."

"Well, as they say," Azriel said, licking some haunch juices from her lips. "It's an ill wind as blows nobody no good."

"Though I'm not sure Eldorion would agree totally," Julia laughed.

They all did.  
   
"You know," Julia said, becoming suddenly sombre. "Some might say that what we have done is diabolical."

"But we would have starved otherwise," Azriel said sensibly.

"I'm suddenly reminded that he was always a well prepared young man," Amarie mused aloud. Then: "Look. He has a backpack. Oh dear! And it's full of wonderful comestibles."

"Shame we didn't consider that possibility before we killed and butchered him," Azriel said thoughtfully. "Hey! Does it seem at all ironic to you guys that Eldorion in life was such an incredibly generous and sharing person?"

"Ironic? I'm not really sure," Julia said philosophically. (She could be quite philosophical when she wasn't starving). "I can't think of a more sharing caring young man than Eldorion - when he was alive - and even in death. And perhaps we might have asked him if he had any food to share before we jumped on him and Amarie broke his neck with Fjordianlandian precision."

"It wasn't that precise. You're thinking of the Germans," Amarie sighed - perhaps a little guiltily - as she finished wrapping the last of Eldorion's roasted meatballs. "I'll miss him a lot, you know. In other tales we had some rather intimate times together."

"Well, you couldn't possibly have been more initimate this time," Azriel opined.  

"The upside is," Julia said brightly. "I'll always feel like he's a part of me now."

On a sudden thought, Azriel suggested in a confidential tone, "Perhaps we might keep this our dark little secret."

They all agreed. It was like they were on the same page for the first time in ages.

"Just now I'm imagining I have the best Sisters a Sister ever had," Amarie said.

It was very much one of those feminine sentimental moments beautiful young women sometimes have. And they spontaneously embraced each other, pressing their soft girly bodies together. And they laughed and they cried too in that peculiar way beautiful young women do that kind of thing, especially in romantic comedies, which was all very lovely I think.

"I'm not sure I want my knickers back," Azriel said, sniffing her knickers suspiciously. "Mine now smell of cranberries."

"Mine smell like kangaroo poo," Julia cried, turning up her nose, and looking at Orwell with a peculiar new understanding.

This almost made up for missing out on the exquisite sensual torment that was narrowly averted.

Indeed, it turned out most fortunate that a young lad on vacation by name Eldorion Peevishboy came their way and was never seen again --- well, not recognisably.

  A fine and well deserved turn of phrase.

You know, I just thought.... well - being Ol' Anon's editor, you'd think he'd maybe give me a break occasionally,...  

Never knew you were into vore, Orwell.

OMG !    Eldo ??!!
Orwell, your completely Kanga's ! What do we tell his parents ?! "yes,well, the Eldo strogonoff was delicious, a few grisely bits but,well, you know, He WAS tough, hee hee"
IL be locked up !......
Cos of you !........
Fook.....
Oh look, there we are ! & who's that ?! a witness to the foul deed !

Is the one on the far right, Norc?   

And I assume you're the one second from left --- to judge from the colour of your last post.   

And I love the way Julia comports herself.   

And isn't Amarie so lovely and nice.   


{{{P.S. Azriel: Remember, it's your little dark secret.   }}}

{{{{ yes, but WHO wrote it ?? }}}}   

azriel wrote:{{{{ yes, but WHO wrote it ?? }}}}   

{{{I'm sure Ol' Anon wouldn't blab... It's not like he's a tale teller or anything.   }}}