[Continued from Part 1]
> Arriving after dusk in Gorzom,grignr descended down a dismal alley,
>reining his horse before a beaten tavern. The redhaired giant strode into
>the dimly lit hostelry reeking of foul odors,
Mike: I guess anyone would reek of foul odors after a few days on the road.
>and cheap wine.
Crow: That's right -- even the poor can enjoy the wonders of wine! This
message brought to you by the Booze Council.
>The air was
>heavy with chocking fumes spewing from smolderingtorches encased within
>theden's earthen packed walls. Tables were clustered with groups of
>drunken thieves, and cutthroats, tossing dice, or making love to willing
Tom: Some missed the point and tossed the dice to the willing prostitutes.
> Eyeing a slender female crouched alone at a nearby bench, Grignr
Mike: Look, we're already on the second chapter. Get over it.
Tom: I know, I know, it's just... I'd like at least buy a vowel or
>advanced wishing to wholesomely occupy his time. The flickering torches
>cast weird shafts of luminescence dancing over the half naked
Crow: Which half?
>harlot of his
>choice, her stringy orchid twines of hair swaying gracefully over the lithe
Mike: I suppose opaqueness =would= be a good quality in a nose.
Crow: It beats transparency, anyway.
>as she raised a half drained mug to her pale red
Crow: You mean pink?
Mike: Let's not jump to conclusions.
> Glancing upward, the alluring complexion noted the stalwart giant as
>he rapidly approached. A faint glimmer sparked from the pair of deep blue
Crow: You mean eyes?
Mike: Let's not jump to conclusions.
>of the amorous female as she motioned toward Grignr,
Tom: I'm over it, I'm over it.
>enticing him to
>join her. The barbarian seated himself upon a stool at the wenches side,
Mike: --a fraudulent chain of car dealerships. All this and Andy Rooney,
tonight on "60 Minutes".
>his body, naked save for a loin cloth brandishing a long steel
Crow: That's one belligerent loincloth!
>an iron spiraled battle helmet, and a thick leather sandals,
>to her unobstructed view.
Tom: So he remembered not to stand behind a brick wall this time.
> "Thou hast need to occupy your time, barbarian",questioned the female?
Mike: Don't ask me, you're the writer!
> "Only if something worth offering is within my reach." Stated
>Grignr,as his hands crept to embrace the tempting female, who welcomed them
>with open willingness.
> "From where do you come barbarian,
Crow: You mean you're a prostitute and you don't know from where guys--
Mike: Don't make me wash your mouth out with soap.
>and by what are you called?"
Tom: Believe me, you don't want to know what he's called.
>the complying wench, as Grignr smothered her lips with the blazing touch of
>his flaming mouth.
Crow: Gamera has one of those!
> The engrossed titan
Mike [falsetto]: So, you want to make out or something?
Tom [Grignr]: Just let me finish this chapter. I'll tell you, I had my
doubts, but I can't get enough about this new Gail Sheehy book! It's like
she's talking about me!
>ignored the queries of the inquisitive female,
>pulling her towards him and crushing her sagging nipples
>to his yearning
>chest. Without struggle she gave in, winding her soft arms around the
>harshly bronzedhide of Grignr corded shoulder blades, as his calloused
>hands caressed her firm protruding busts.
Mike: One was of Shakespeare, the other of Beethoven.
> "You make love well wench," Admitted Grignr
Tom: He may be a barbarian, but he's a silver-tongued devil.
>as he reached for the vessel of potent wine
Crow [falsetto]: At least the =wine='s potent.
Tom [Grignr]: Shut up! I swear this has never happened to me before!
>his charge had been quaffing.
> A flying foot
Mike: Of blinding steel?
Tom: Must belong to Prince Namor.
>caught the mug Grignr had taken hold of, sending its
>blood red contents sloshing over a flickering crescent;
Crow: I believe it's spelled "croissant".
>leashing tongues of bright orange flame to the foot trodden floor.
Mike: Thanks for clearing that up. I thought maybe everyone was going
around walking on their hands.
> "Remove yourself Sirrah, the wench belongs to me;" Blabbered a drunken
>soldier, too far consumed by the influences of his virile brew to
Crow: --write a coherent story. His name? Jim Theis.
>take note of the superior size of his adversary.
> Grignr lithly bounded from the startled female, his face lit up to an
>ashen red ferocity, and eyes locked in a searing feral blaze toward the
> "To hell with you, braggard!" Bellowed the angered Ecordian,
Tom: Accompanied by a rather ticked-off Ermonica.
>as he hefted his finely honed broad sword.
> The staggering soldier clumsily reached towards the pommel of his
>dangling sword, but before his hands ever touched the oaken hilt a silvered
>flash was slicing the heavy air. The thews of the savages lashing right
>arm bulged from the glistening bronzed hide as his blade bit deeply into
>the soldiers neck, loping off the confused head of his senseless tormentor.
> With a nauseating thud the severed oval
Crow: You mean his head?
Mike: Let's not jump to conclusions.
>toppled to the floor, as the segregated torso
Mike: This story must take place back when torsos were "separate but
>of Grignr's bovine antagonist swayed, then collapsed in a
>pool of swirled crimson.
> In the confusion the soldier's fellows confronted Grignr with
>unsheathed cutlasses, directed toward the latters scowling make-up.
Tom: Grignr does tend to overdo it with the mascara.
> "The slut
Crow: A slut? Where?
>should have picked his quarry more carefully!" Roared the
>victor in a mocking baritone growl,
Mike: Funny, I pictured him as more of a mezzo-soprano.
>as he wiped his dripping blade on the
>prostrate form, and returned it to its scabbard.
> "The fool should have shown more prudence,
Tom: At this juncture.
>however you shall rue your
>actions while rotting in the pits." Stated one of the sprawled soldier's
> Grignr's hand began to remove his blade from its leather housing, but
Mike: Don't say anything. Too easy.
>the motion in face of the blades waving before his face.
> "Dismiss your hand from the hilt, barbarbian, or you shall find a foot
Mike: Blinding steel! It's a flying foot of blinding steel!
>sheathed in your gizzard."
> Grignr weighed his
Tom: --manuscript, _Being and Nothingness_; oddly enough, it weighed
exactly one kilogram.
>position observing his plight, where-upon he took
>the soldier's advice as the only logical choice.
Mike: When I think of logic, I think of three names: Descartes; Spock;
>To attempt to hack his way
Crow: Into the Pentagon and download the launch codes?
>from his present predicament could only warrant certain death.
All: Do it! Do it!
>He was of no mind
Crow: Aw, come on, Mike!
Mike: I said no. Way too easy.
>to bring upon his own demise if an alternate path presented
>itself. The will to necessitate his life forced him to yield to the
>superior force in hopes of a moment of carlessness later upon the part of
>his captors in which he could effect a more plausible means of escape.
Mike: This translator isn't taking any liberties with the original Latin,
> "You may steady your arms,
Tom: This is a bar! No one here can steady their arms!
Crow: Neither can you, Tom.
Tom: At least I have an excuse.
>I will go without a struggle."
> "Your decision is a wise one,
Mike: When I think of wisdom, I think of three names: Solomon; Confucius;
>yet perhaps you would have been better off had you forced death,"
Crow: I know =we= would be.
>the soldier's mouth wrinkled
Tom: He ought to use a moisturizer.
>to a sadistic grin
>of knowing mirth as he prodded his prisoner on with his sword point.
> After an indiscriminate
Crow: Indiscriminate? Even the torsos are segregated around here!
>period of marching through slinking alleyways
>and dim moonlighted streets the procession confronted a massive seraglio.
Mike: Never say "seraglio" again.
>The palace area was surrounded by an iron grating, with a lush garden upon
> The group was admitted through the gilded gateway and Grignr was
>ledalong a stone pathway bordered by plush vegitation lustfully enhanced by
>the moon's shimmering rays.
Tom: When I get me a glimpse of that crabgrass, I get me a stirrin' in
my loins somethin' awful.
>Upon reaching the palace the group was granted
>entrance, and after several minutes of explanation,
Crow: It normally would've taken a couple seconds, but Jim Theis was doing
>led through several winding corridors to a richly draped chamber.
> Confronting the group was a short stocky man seated upona golden
>throne. Tapestries of richly draped regal blue silk covered all walls of
>the chamber, while the steps leading to the throne were plated with
>sparkling white ivory. The man upon the throne had a naked wench seated at
>each of his arms,
Crow: That must be one fat wench!
Mike: She's just big-boned.
>and a trusted advisor seated in back of him.
Tom: Who proceeded to bury a dagger between his shoulders.
>cornwr of the chamber a guard stood at attention, with upraised pikes
>supported in their hands, golden chainmail adorning their torso's
Crow: Adorning their torso's what?
>and barred helmets emitting scarlet plumes enshrouding their heads.
Tom: Sorry, I had the burrito con pollo combination plate for dinner.
>The man rose from his throne to the dias
Mike: Cameron Dias?
>surrounding it. His plush turquois robe
>dangled loosely from his chuncky frame.
> The soldiers surrounding Grignr fell to their knees with heads bowed
>to the stone masonry of the floor in fearful dignity
Mike: Nothing's quite as dignified as abject groveling.
>to their sovereign, leige.
> "Explain the purpose of this intrusion upon my chateau!"
Tom: So this Gorzom is in the Loire Valley?
> "Your sirenity, resplendent in noble grandeur, we have brought this
>yokel before you (the soldier gestured toward Grignr) for the redress or
>your all knowing wisdon in judgement regarding his fate."
Mike: I don't think I could've made it through that long tiring quote
without that refreshing parenthetical aside.
> "Down on your knees, lout, and pay proper homage to your sovereign!"
>commanded the pudgy noble of Grignr.
> "By the surly beard of Mrifk,
Tom: I'd =really= like to buy a vowel at this point.
Crow: Try buying about five.
>Grignr kneels to no man!" scowled the
> "You dare to deal this blasphemous act to me!
Mike: What're you talking about? I dealt you a red king and a pair of
>You are indeed brave
>stranger, yet your valor smacks of foolishness."
> "I find you to be the only fool,
Tom: Well, you and anyone who actually paid money to see the Jerky Boys
>sitting upon your pompous throne,
>enhancing the rolling flabs of your belly in the midst of your elaborate
Crow: Yeah! Yeah! Down with the aristocracy! Power to the proletariat!
>The soldier standing at Grignr's side smote him heavily in
>the face with the flat of his sword, cutting short the harsh words
Crow: That's how you make the words stop? Quick, someone find Jim Theis!
>and knocking his battered helmet to the masonry with an echo-ing clang.
Tom: Umm... is there a "W", Pat?
Mike: No, no, no. It's a religious thing. Like Y-HW-H or G-D.
> The paunchy noble's sagging round face flushed suddenly pale,
Crow: It flushed pale? Did it blanch red after that?
>then pastily lit up to a lustrous cherry red radiance.
Crow: Hold me.
>His lips trembled with malicious rage,
Tom: As opposed to good-natured rage.
>while emitting a muffled sibilant gibberish.
Mike: Mom, you just don't understand my generation's music!
Tom: If anyone's an authority on gibberish, it's Jim Theis.
>His sagging flabs rolled like a tub of upset jelly,
Crow: Delicious strawberry upset jelly!
>then compressed as he sucked in his
>gut in an attempt to conceal his softness.
Mike: He got sick of people poking him in the stomach and asking when
the rolls would be done.
> The prince regained his statue,
Tom: Someone had ripped it off and sold it to the local museum.
>then spoke to the soldiers surrounding
>Grignr, his face conforming to an ugly expression of sadistic humor.
> "Take this uncouth heathen to the vault of misery, and be sure that
>his agonies are long and drawn out
Crow: Make him read THE EYE OF ARGON!
>before death can release him."
> "As you wish sire, your command shall be heeded immediately," answered
>the soldier on the right of Grignr
Tom: Unlike the soldier, Grignr is pro-choice.
>as he stared into the barbarians seemingly unaffected face.
> The advisor seated in the back of the noble
Crow: In the back of the noble what?
>slowly rose and advanced
>to the side of his master, motioning the wenches seated at his sides to
>remove themselves. He lowered his head and whispered to the noble.
Mike: Psst! I didn't want to mention it in front of the prisoner, but
your fly, sir--
> "Eminence, the punishment you have decreed will cause much misery to
>this scum, yet it will last only a short time, then release him to a land
>beyond the sufferings of the human body.
Crow: Where Ecordian and Simarian alike romp in the blissful light of
harmony and friendship and everything is made of sweet, sweet chocolate.
>Why not mellow him
Mike: Quite rightly!
>in one of the
>subterranean vaults for a few days, then send him to life labor
Tom: It's not so bad as long as you get the epidural block.
>in one of
>your buried mines. To one such as he, a life spent in the confinement of
>the stygian pits will be an infinitely more appropiate and lasting
Mike: Or even worse, make him spend it on the "It's a Small World" ride.
Tom: You monster!
> The noble cupped his drooping double chin in the folds of his briming
>palm, meditating for a moment
>upon the rationality of the councilor's word's,
Tom: Well, looky here! You =can= express it as a simple fraction!
>then raised his shaggy
Mike: Zoiks, Scoob, let's get outta here!
>brown eyebrows and turned toward the
>advisor, eyes aglow.
Crow [falsetto]: Oh, advisor, you're so cute!
> "...As always Agafnd,
Tom: I'm getting kinda low on cash. Just this once can you =give= me a
>you speak with great wisdom. Your words ring of
>great knowledge concerning
>the nature of one such as he ," sayeth , the king.
Mike: Whoa! Where'd the phony Elizabethan English come from?
>The noble turned toward the prisoner with a noticable shimmer
>reflecting in his frog-like eyes, and his lips contorting to a greasy grin.
Tom: [burp] 'Nother Big Mac, please.
>"I have decided to void my
>previous decree. The prisoner shall be removed
>to one of the palaces
Mike: Wow, what a change of heart!
>underground vaults. There he shall stay until I have
>decided that he has sufficiently simmered, whereupon he is to be
Mike: --served with croutons and freshly grated parmesan cheese.
>spend the remainder of his days at labor in one of my mines."
Crow: That mine is mine!
> Upon hearing this, Grignr realized that his fate would be far less
>merciful than death to one such as he, who is used to roaming the
>countryside at will. A life of confinement would be more than his body and
>mind could stand up to. This type of life would be immeasurably worse than
Tom: It would, however, be better than anything on the Warner Bros.
> "I shall never understand the ways if your twisted civilization. I
>simply defend my honor and am condemned to life confinement, by a pig who
>sits on his royal ass
Mike: Grignr! Watch the language.
>wooing whores, and knows nothing of the affairs of the land
Crow: Sure he does! Like, his chief advisor was caught fooling around with
his wife's sister, and--
>he imagines to rule!" Lectures Grignr ?
Mike: Don't ask me, you're the writer!
> "Enough of this!
All: You said it!
>Away with the slut
Crow: A slut? Where?
>before I loose my control!"
> Seeing the peril of his position, Grignr searched for an opening.
>Crushing prudence to the sward,
Mike: I guess now she can't come out to play.
>he plowed into the soldier at his left arm
>taking hold of his sword, and bounding to the dias
Tom: Was it a buenos dias?
>supporting the prince
Mike: That's "the artist formerly known as the prince" to you, buddy.
>before the startled guards could regain their composure. Agafnd leaped
>Grignr and his sire, but found a sword blade permeating the length of his
Tom: Why, what's this doing here? And here I spent all last week looking
for it in the garage!
>before he could loosed his weapon.
> The councilor slumped to his knees as Grignr slid his crimsoned blade
>from Agfnd's rib cage.
Crow: He's losing vowels with each passing second!
>The fat prince
Mike: I believe it's the =fresh= prince.
>stood undulating in insurmountable
>fear before the edge of the fiery maned comet,
Tom: Suddenly it's science fiction!
>his flabs of jellied blubber
Tom: Y'know, some jellied blubber and a kipper snack would sure hit the
spot right about now.
>pulsating to and fro in ripples of flowing terror.
> "Where is your wisdom and power now, your magjesty?" Growled Grignr.
> The prince went rigid as Grignr discerned him glazing
Mike: --a vase he'd been making for his ceramics class.
>shoulder. He swlived to note the cause of the noble's attention,
Mike: Pausing first to take out his memo pad.
>his sword over his head, and prepared to leash a vicious downward cleft,
>but fell short as the haft of a steel rimed pike clashed against his
Crow: The pike was plaid, his skull was polka-dotted.
>Then blackness and solitude. Silence enshrouding and
>ever peaceful reind supreme.
> "Before me, sirrah! Before me as always! Ha, Ha Ha, Haaaa...", nobly
Mike: Does it matter?
Tom: Nah, I guess not. Come on, let's go.
[Continued in Part 3]