Posted on 08/10/11
Posted on: Sunday August 07 2011 by Xanaphia
So the gang went to the beach to celebrate Grok’s ungraceful but valiant mission to save me from the Pigmies. It was Bob’s idea, although I think he just wanted a reason to wear a bikini.
The coast of the Emerald Sea is a couple of days away for those who don’t know the shortcuts (i.e. most people), but I got us there in a few hours through an almost-invisible trail. The only wildlife in it is a few mushrooms and wild berries that give you squeaky feet if you eat too much of them. I’m always the only one on that trail whenever I go, so I’m tempted to think I’m the only one who knows about it. Of course, now the goblins are in on the secret. Grok too, but he was probably too grouchy to remember anything.
You see, it was his first time at the beach, and he didn’t get why we’d dragged him all the way to this “big pond” when he had a perfectly good pond back at the farm. Besides, he said, his last bath was only two months ago. “Clean skin make Grok dizzy,” he reasoned. He only went into the water after Bob and Joe swore that they didn’t have any soap with them and that Grok would return to the farm with every ounce of ogre grime intact.
Meanwhile, I was behind a tree, trying to squeeze into my elf-size swimsuit. Elf fabric is stretchy because we sometimes have to use our clothes as slingshots, but I guess they didn’t consider that sometimes elves get turned into giant berries in mid-mission. I had to waddle very slowly and remember not to exhale too deeply. A small sneeze would have sent my bikini top at least five miles offshore. In fact, after a few near-accidents Joe had to duct-tape the thing to my back.
Bob, of course, went out of her way to show off her bikini, which was prettier than mine. It was turquoise, or as she preferred to put it, “the color of the ocean on a balmy summer day.” Mine was mud-green like the rest of my elf outfits, the same color as Grok’s thighs if you pulled away some of the hair.
Speaking of thighs, Grok wouldn’t touch the sunscreen—he was afraid it would peel his skin off. Joe pointed out that he’d put on some and he was fine, but “Grok skin different,” apparently. He spent all day frying in the sun, occasionally dipping into the saltwater. So now we have a slightly pink ogre for a boss, except for a small patch on his back where I managed to sneak some lotion on.
I’m including a picture that Grok took during the evening. I hate Bob.
The coast of the Emerald Sea is a couple of days away for those who don’t know the shortcuts (i.e. most people), but I got us there in a few hours through an almost-invisible trail. The only wildlife in it is a few mushrooms and wild berries that give you squeaky feet if you eat too much of them. I’m always the only one on that trail whenever I go, so I’m tempted to think I’m the only one who knows about it. Of course, now the goblins are in on the secret. Grok too, but he was probably too grouchy to remember anything.
You see, it was his first time at the beach, and he didn’t get why we’d dragged him all the way to this “big pond” when he had a perfectly good pond back at the farm. Besides, he said, his last bath was only two months ago. “Clean skin make Grok dizzy,” he reasoned. He only went into the water after Bob and Joe swore that they didn’t have any soap with them and that Grok would return to the farm with every ounce of ogre grime intact.
Meanwhile, I was behind a tree, trying to squeeze into my elf-size swimsuit. Elf fabric is stretchy because we sometimes have to use our clothes as slingshots, but I guess they didn’t consider that sometimes elves get turned into giant berries in mid-mission. I had to waddle very slowly and remember not to exhale too deeply. A small sneeze would have sent my bikini top at least five miles offshore. In fact, after a few near-accidents Joe had to duct-tape the thing to my back.
Bob, of course, went out of her way to show off her bikini, which was prettier than mine. It was turquoise, or as she preferred to put it, “the color of the ocean on a balmy summer day.” Mine was mud-green like the rest of my elf outfits, the same color as Grok’s thighs if you pulled away some of the hair.
Speaking of thighs, Grok wouldn’t touch the sunscreen—he was afraid it would peel his skin off. Joe pointed out that he’d put on some and he was fine, but “Grok skin different,” apparently. He spent all day frying in the sun, occasionally dipping into the saltwater. So now we have a slightly pink ogre for a boss, except for a small patch on his back where I managed to sneak some lotion on.
I’m including a picture that Grok took during the evening. I hate Bob.
Shaftway
Otterpoet
Posted on 08/08/11
