Neulich in der Basis der Templer

"Good news, my Lord. We discovered the sausage of Wisdom!"

"Great! We will roast ist gently in the Holy Grail until the peel will burst and all the wisdom will spread on us."

"Brilliant idea. By the way, my Lord, is there some of the sacred mostard of spicing left?"

"No, the cook spilled it all when he tried to rub it on the rabbit of doom. Maybe he should have killed it before."

"By the way, my Lord, have you noticed the cook leaving this juicy greenish slime trail behind him?"

"Does he?"

"Yes, my Lord, and it smells funny."

"It makes you laugh then?"

"No, my Lord, I mean funny. You understand? It doesn't exactly smell of roses."

"Roses? Oh yes, call for the gardener then."

"The gardener has caught a demonic flu, my Lord."

"Oh, did he? How come?"

"He got stung by a venemous dragonfly in the garden when he tried to pluck those little yellow flowers that you like to have under your bed in order to increase your .. ah .. stamina."

"Poor lad. Will he get through it?"

"Will you be able to read hieroglyphics, my Lord?"

"Hiero.. what?"

"He will die!"

"Alright, who will pluck my flowers then?"

"You don't need them anymore, my Lord?"

"Realy?"

"Realy!"

"Oh, but what about my little problem?"

"We have something different for you, my Lord."

"Great. What is it?"

"This, my Lord."

"A Club?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Great!"

"This is the recently discovered club of almighty virility, my Lord."

"Sounds interesting. How do I use it?"

"We are not quite sure, my Lord. You have to try."

"Okay."

[pause]

"Hm, do I have to hit myself with it or somebody else?"

"I suppose, you have to hit him, my Lord."

"The gardener?"

"No, HIM."

"Ah. Him."

"You understand, my Lord."

"No."

"Okay then, my Lord. Let's start different. Where do you have your little problem?"

"In bed."

"Yes, but where exactely?"

"You mean?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"I prefer the flowers."


..to be continued

"What about this punch of power thing I heard of?"

"It's a myth, my Lord."

"Fine, can we make a tincture then?"

"A myth, not a myrrh."

"Aha."

[pause]

"Can we?"

"Good Lord!"

"Yes?"

"I mean, no, we can't."

"Bummer!"

"There you're right, my Lord."

"What else could we do?"

"We could call a shaman for the laying on of hands."

"I am not sure, if I am going to like that."

"We might find a female shaman for you."

"Alright."

[pause]

"By the way, my Lord. Have you heard the alarming news from the western front?"

"What news?"

"The enemy has overcome our defences and is about to advance by forced marches."

"Great!"

"What?"

"They will be all very tired when they arrive here."

"I don't think so, my Lord. Demons don't get tired."

"And their feet will hurt awfully."

"I'm afraid, they don't care about their feet, my Lord. Some of them even don't have feet."

"C'mon, you try to wind me up. How can they march without feet?"

"They fly, float, creep and crawl."

"Fly? Cool."

[pause]

"How do they?"

"Using their wings, my Lord."

"Wings - very handy thing."

"Yes. I agree in principle, my Lord, but..."

"Do our men have wings as well?"

"No."

"Bammer!"

"What are you intending to do, my Lord."

"Let's see. It's about lunch time. Are you hungry?"

"No, I mean, how do plan to stop the enemy?

"Me?"

"Yes, my Lord, you."

"I am the King."

"Yes, you are, my Lord."

"The King never does anything."

"Yes, but you give orders."

"Yes, I do."

"I listen, my Lord."

"Do you think my orders are good orders?"

"Your orders are an ********** of wisdom and power, my Lord."

"Realy?"

"Yes, they are as wise as a sausage and as powerful as small yellow flowers."

"You make me embarassed."

"I though so. What are your orders then?"

"Call for the Evokers Guild?"

"You dissolved the guild last week, my Lord."

"Oh, did I?"

"Yes."

"Will they reunite?"

"No, my Lord."

"Why?"

"You also dissolved their members."

"Oh."

[pause]

"Was this a good order?"

"Oh yes, my Lord. The Evokers used to make a real mess on a battle field. All the blood, slime and enemy corpses."

"Yeah, disgusting."

[pause]

"What about the Summoners then? Did I dissolve them too?"

"No, fortunately not."

"Thank god! Let them come."

"I'm afraid they won't come, my Lord."

"Not?"

"No."

"Did I order something concerning the Summoners?

"Yes, my Lord."

"Oh. Something upsetting?"

"Only for those simple minded ones, my Lord."

"Of course. What did I say then?"

"You were complaining about all the warper poo around the stables."

"Oh yes, I remember. Nasty, gooey stuff."

"Yes, and you send all their pets to the backside of the garden."

"Oh, where the small yellow flowers grow?"

"Exactely."

"Great, go and get them here."

"This won't be possibly, my Lord."

"Why not?"

"They are all dead."

"Bammer!"

"Indeed."

"How come?"

"They tasted those small yellow flowers, my Lord."

"Oh."

[pause]

"Are they poisonous?"

"Obviouisly."

"Oh."

[pause]

"Have you already sold this club?"

"No, my Lord, but can we get back to the problem?"

"Oh yes, of course. What was it again, we were about?"

"The Summoners."

"Oh yes, the summoners."

[pause]

"Äh.."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"They are Summoners, are they?"

"Yes."

"Ok."

[pause]

"Aren't summoners supposed to summon something?"

"Yes, my Lord, they are."

"Ok, can they summon new pets then?"

"I'm afraid, they can't."

"Why?"

"The suffer from a very deep depression."

"So do I."

"And, my Lord, can you summon something?"

"Of course not."

"See."

"Damn!"

Auf deutsch wär es besser gewesen...

Ne find ich nicht.

Herrlicher englischer Akzent und englischer Humor...

Sehr cool! Weiter so!

Hilarious

Zitat von Callendo

Auf deutsch wär es besser gewesen...

Stänkerer !

Ich hab' mich beömmelt. Danke !

I am very amused

Freut mich, heute abend geht's weiter.

Zitat von Haekeldrache

Hilarious

/oh yes!

"Should I call for the Blademaster Guild then, my Lord?"

"You think they will come?"

"Definitely!"

"Definitely?"

"Oh, yes, my Lord."

"Realy?"

"Oh, yeah! I am very sure they will come. All of them. Immediately."

"This sounds a bit funny to me."

"I don't think that 'funny' is the right word, my Lord."

"What would be the right word?"

"Awesome...dreadful...violent...cruel...bloodthirsty"

"You know a lot of these words."

"Yes, my Lord. That's why you made me your counselor."

"Did I?"

"Obviously."

"Is it? I thought you were my jester."

"I beg you pardon, my Lord!"

"C'mon you know jesters. These funny guys jumpin around with all the little bells attached to their clothes, making jokes and so."

"Have you ever heard me joking, my Lord?"

"No, now you mention it. No."

"And have you ever see me jumping around?"

"No, not that I can remember."

"What do you think could this mean?"

"Hm, you must be the worst jester I have ever had?"

"Yes, that's the other reason why I am your conselour, my Lord."

"Ok, it doesn't greatly matter at all."

"If you say so."

"Say what?"

"For heavens sake."

"Didn't we talk about something before you started with this jester thing?"

"Yes, my Lord. The war."

"Right."

"And the Blademasters."

"Oh yes, and you listed all these .. ah .. evil words."

"I just tried to express what familiar atmosphere will pervade these halls after the Blademasters will have been arrived here."

"You think they don't like me?"

"How did you come up with that, my Lord?"

"So they like me?"

"No."

"No?"

"Actually they hate you much more than they hate the demons."

"Ouh, that doesn't sound helpful."

"Not for you, my Lord."

"How come they don't like me? Everbody likes me."

[pause]

"Do I pay you for not confirming my opinion?"

"No."

"Well then?"

"You don't pay me at all, my Lord."

"I don't pay you?"

"No."

"Why?"

"You are broke."

"Realy?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"This can't be true."

"It is true."

[pause]

"Is this another jester thing of you?"

"No, my Lord."

"You mean, I do not have any money?"

"Yes. That's what broke means. Broke, out of pocket, on the rocks, bankrupt."

"Oh."

[pause]

"Why are you still here, if I don't pay you?"

"Good question. I never thought about it. Maybe I better.."

"Forget about it."

[pause]

"How is the weather?"

"Have not been outside for ages, my Lord."

"There you go."

"Pardon?"

"Ah, so you think, calling the Blademasters is not a good idea?"

"Better not, my Lord."

"Okay then, I think we can easily make it without these little knify skirts."

"We have to, my Lord."

Ich hab die Story mal ins Down Street Station Forum verschoben. Für solche Geschichten haben wir das.

Übrigens sehr nett

"Who's left?"

"The Gurdians, the Marksmen and the Engineers, my Lord."

"Engineers! That sounds like tricky guys. Just what we need."

"They would be delighted to hear that."

"Sure they would."

"Especially after things to happen lately."

"What?"

"You do not remember, my Lord?"

"Remember what?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes. You - insulting the Engineers."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"What was it about?"

"Your little problem, my Lord."

"Again?"

"Yes."

"Damn!"

"You wanted the Engineers to construct a prosthesis for your .. ah .. little King."

"Great idea!"

[pause]

"What was the problem then?"

"The Engineers claimed to construct excellent war machines. They refused to get involved with sexual auxiliary devices."

"Arrogant bastards!"

"You shouldn't have called them that, my Lord."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"Damn!"

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Of course."

"Great! I'd do anything. Tell me."

"You could give them opportunity to get satisfaction."

"How?"

"You remember the club or virility, my Lord?"

"Ah ... what about the Marksmen?"

"Nuts, my Lord."

"No, thank you. I'm allergic."

"I mean the Marksmen."

"What?"

"The Marksmen. They are all nuts."

"Who did that?"

"Did what, my Lord."

"Turned my Marksmen into Nuts."

"They are not turned into Nuts, they went berserk."

"Great!"

"What?"

"Even though. Wouldn't that be better for the Gurdians."

"No, no, my Lord. They are insane."

"Oh. How come?"

"You.."

"Me again?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Damn!"

[pause]

"No details please."

"My Lord."

"So, it's only the Gurdians left."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Anything wrong with the Guardians?"

"Not that I know."

"Not insane, sulking or dissolved?"

"No, my Lord, they are all well."

"Thank god!"

"As far as I know."

"What do you mean?"

"They are not quite so close to the Station."

"Not?"

"No, my Lord."

"Okay, where are they?"

"Australia."

"What the hell are they doing in Australia?"

"Executing your orders, my Lord."

"I knew you would say something like that."

"Oh, did you? You still manage to surprise me."

"I sent them to Australia?"

"So you did, my Lord."

"Do I want to know why?"

"No."

"Something to do with my problem?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Okay, I do not want to know."

[pause]

"So, the Evokers are dissolved, the Summoners lie in depression, the Blademasters hate me,
the Engineers are sulking, the Marksmen are nuts and the Gurdians far away?"

"Shit happens, my Lord!"

"Who's left?"

"You, me and the smelly cook, my Lord."

"Great army."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Any other options?"

"No."

"What is your suggestion?"

"Fight, my Lord."

"Fight? Me? With weapons? Against demons?"

"I'm afraid."

"Doesn't sound very groovy."

"If you say so."

"Ok then, could you please be so kind and get my helmet?"

"That one under your bed containing the flowers, my Lord?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to get it with the flowers?"

"You think that the flowers might be of any use out there?"

"Depends."

"Depends?"

"Depends on how much you like Demons, my Lord."

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