The poet, who had always been good at making the best out of any situation, got to his feet, cleared his throat and recited a haiku he’d written a couple of months ago. He received an encouraging round of applause. He went on to recite a limerick that made everyone laugh and ended with a heart-wrenching allegory that caused the audience to shed a few tears. As the final stanzas rang out into the night, the crowd cheered and screamed for an encore. The South American poet went on to be known as the Naked Poet and lived out his days travelling around Australia and drawing crowds wherever he went.
The mystical creature had come to terms with the fact that he had two choices. He could remain incorporeal and ineffectual and do absolutely nothing but float around and observe as best as he could the events unfolding in the universe. Or, he could throw caution to the wind, create a corporeal vessel, and slowly filter himself into it. It would be slow and although the vessel would, in essence, be him, he understood that for a time he would be completely unaware of himself but at least he’d be in the thick of the action. Eventually he’d be himself; it was just a matter of time. And when one is a mystical, slightly omnipotent creature that transcends space and reality, time is meaningless.
With no more than a thought, he began to reintroduce himself back into the world.
“Look, I didn’t mean anything by it,” said Robert with an insurmountable amount of conviction.
“Shut up, Robert,” snapped Lily.
The Gnomes snickered.
Two angry-looking Humanimals glared at Robert, their arms folded assertively across their chests, as Lily tried to rectify the situation. Robert was sitting at a table near the door, feeling like an idiot. The Gnomes perched at the bar, wearing large grins.
Maureen and Melvin Goathead stood seven feet tall. They had the legs of a goat, a human upper body, human arms, and a long goat’s neck topped with a goat’s head. Maureen had a ring in both of her ears, ample breasts, and a stern look that could turn men to slush. Melvin had a simple look about him that would lead anyone with eyes to believe that Maureen was definitely the boss in this household. Maureen wore a dress tied at the middle with a braided rope while Melvin sported a pair of stonewashed jeans, a white shirt with a high collar, and a green blazer. A pair of spectacles perched haphazardly on the end of his long goat nose.
Robert, Lily, and the Gnomes had entered the halfway house, which to Robert looked very much like he would have imagined a medieval tavern to look. It occurred to him that, so far, everywhere he’d seen had held the same Olde Worlde sort of look. It should have seemed strange to Robert but for some reason it felt completely natural.
Lily had informed Robert that the names of the owners of the halfway house were Melvin and Maureen Goathead, but failed to mention that their animal half was, coincidentally, a goat. The revelation had taken him by surprise. As they entered the halfway house and were greeted by the couple, Robert had been shocked by their height and the fact that they spoke just like a human. Coupled with the many surprises of the day, the first rather stupid words out of Robert’s mouth were “You’re goats!”
There was nothing more insulting to a Humanimal than being referred to as an animal. The pair demanded that Robert leave.
Lily had come to his rescue and explained that he was an Othasider who knew nothing about this world until a few short hours ago and that the stress of the day was getting to him. The Gnomes added that he was a moron and couldn’t help it.
Finally, the Goatheads agreed that they’d overlook the rude comment and that they were all welcome to stay the night, took their food orders, and vanished into a back door that he assumed led to a kitchen.
“Nice first impression, Robert,” said Lily with a smile.
“Good one, moron,” said Gnick.
The Gnomes jumped down from the bar and the four of them moved to a larger table by the fireplace at the far end of the room.
Robert hadn’t realized how hungry he was until Maureen dropped a plate of something brown and roasted accompanied by fresh vegetables and boiled potatoes smothered in some sort of rich gravy in front him, along with a large glass of beer. Realistically, he hadn’t eaten since before he was fired from his job that same morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
After dining, Lily retired to her room to get cleaned up, leaving Robert alone with two slightly intoxicated Gnomes and Melvin, who had joined them for a nightcap. Maureen could be heard clattering around in the kitchen. Thanks to his underwhelming first impression, the conversation had been as comfortable as barbed wire underwear. As the night fully took effect and the alcohol slipped slowly into the bloodstream, Melvin started to warm toward Robert. After a while, the Gnomes started telling jokes about wizards that amused Melvin to no end. Robert did his best to laugh where he thought was appropriate as he didn’t really get some of the jokes and assumed he needed to know something more about wizarding-kind to appreciate fully the humour. Melvin on the other hand had a hearty laugh that often ended with him bleating, which caused him to laugh more.
After some time, the conversation turned to Robert. Melvin asked if there was anything he’d like to know, as he was a newcomer to this world.
“Well, I only have around a million questions,” replied Robert.
“As you should,” agreed Melvin.
“Moron,” stated Gnick. Even the Gnomes had ceased to annoy Robert; he was getting used to their general lack of manners and consistent insults.
“How about money?” asked Robert. “What kind of currency do you use in Thiside?”
Melvin reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, leather, drawstring pouch. He loosened the strings and shook several gold coins of varying sizes out onto the table.
“Is this real gold?”
“There are several different forms of currency here,” said Melvin, “information, for example.”
“Blood,” added General Gnarly.
“And gold,” finished Melvin. “The blood is regulated by the White Rabbit. Information belongs to the knowledgeable and the gold is mined and coined in one location on the far side of the Grimm Mountains.”
“By the Seven Dwarves Mining Corporation,” added Gnick.
“The Seven Dwarves? As in the Seven Dwarves?” Two pairs of tiny Gnome eyes and one pair of spectacled goat eyes stared at him blankly. “You know, small cottage in the forest, hi-ho-hi-ho, Snow White? The Dwarves took her in after the evil queen threatened to kill her?”
“That’s not exactly the way it happened,” said General Gnarly. “As Lily told you, the stories you know aren’t exactly reality.”
“Well, there are obviously seven Dwarves,” said Robert.
“And there was a Ms. White,” said Melvin with obvious contempt in his voice.
“Thieving bitch,” agreed Gnick.
“What?” said Robert, taken aback.
“The woman was a dirty thief,” snarled General Gnarly.
“She was stepdaughter to the evil queen who tried to have her killed because she was too pretty,” explained Robert.