A Questin' (of Sorts) - a QUEST story for Fairy Tale Friday, 3rd October 2014
Wizard Gagmuffin sat in his voluminous armchair, reading his daily rag of choice and munching on a spindly pipe. All of a sudden he heard a curt rapping 'pon his front door, and rose wearily to answer it.
There on his doorstep stood Minerva Wart.
'Oh, Gagmuffin!' she brayed, 'My cat's gone missing again. Mrs Elvstead from next door said she saw her crossing the enchanted stream…'
There on his doorstep stood Minerva Wart.
'Oh, Gagmuffin!' she brayed, 'My cat's gone missing again. Mrs Elvstead from next door said she saw her crossing the enchanted stream…'
Gagmuffin raised a knotted hand to silence her.
'Is this a quest?' he asked, laconically.
'Er … in a manner of speaking' said Minerva uncertainly.
'Don't do quests anymore,' said Gagmuffin shortly, 'can't be arsed with them. I'll summon the Questlings. They'll take care of it.'
He half-heartedly waved his wand and muttered something which could have been either an incantation or his shopping list for all he gave a fuck, and three misshapen oddities sprang into being upon his flagstone floor.
The shortest, fattest one (named Quest-or) was first to speak.
'The Call to Adventure!' he howled gleefully, 'What say you men?'
The others looked on, unenthused. The small, feathered one known as Quest-rel hovered silently, looking for voles. Meanwhile the tall, thin hunchback known as Quest-yunn looked characteristically quizzical.
'What call?' he queried.
'The Call to Adventure,' repeated Quest-or, impatiently, 'We must set forth, upon our holy quest, to recover this spinster's feline!'
Minerva, who had been watching aghast, rumpled indignantly at this. Gagmuffin, now seated, sent a text.
'Oh,' said Quest-yunn, pausing for thought, 'why's that?' he finished perplexedly.
Quest-or turned, exasperated.
'It is our solemn duty to our master!' he squeaked, incandescent with irk, 'We must fulfil our sacred task, whatever perils we may encounter!'
'Is that wise?' mused Quest-yunn, ponderously.
'Fuck cares if it's wise!' shrieked Quest-or, incensed, 'It's what we've been summoned to do!'
Quest-rel hovered.
'Oh right,' said Quest-yunn, sheepishly, 'and why have we been summoned to do this?'
'Because we’re the goddamn QUESTLINGS. It's in our frig-mothering name!' harped Quest-or, emphatically.
'Gotcha,' said Quest-yunn confidently, then he opened his mouth again.
'If you ask me another fucking thing I'll ram Quest-rel's beak down your gullet!'
Quest-rel hovered.
Quest-yunn closed his mouth, cowed, and silently feeling as though Quest-or was stymying his contribution to the group. He made a note to bring it up at the next AGM.
'Right,' said Quest-or, determinedly coolly, 'here's what we do. We cross the enchanted stream of which this lady speaks and follow her cat's enchanted footprints wherever they may lead us. The magic will act as a guide long after the prints themselves have faded but we must move quickly before it dissipates. Quest-rel, you take aerial watch, Quest-yunn and I will follow on the ground.'
He paused.
'Any questions?' he said, warily.
'Why are we doing this, again?' said Quest-yunn. And Quest-or fell, defeated.
Minerva and Gagmuffin, who had long since given up caring, were making mad, passionate love on the hearth.
And maybe that was the real quest all along.
Quest-rel, oblivious to everything, hovered.
THE END.
'Is this a quest?' he asked, laconically.
'Er … in a manner of speaking' said Minerva uncertainly.
'Don't do quests anymore,' said Gagmuffin shortly, 'can't be arsed with them. I'll summon the Questlings. They'll take care of it.'
He half-heartedly waved his wand and muttered something which could have been either an incantation or his shopping list for all he gave a fuck, and three misshapen oddities sprang into being upon his flagstone floor.
The shortest, fattest one (named Quest-or) was first to speak.
'The Call to Adventure!' he howled gleefully, 'What say you men?'
The others looked on, unenthused. The small, feathered one known as Quest-rel hovered silently, looking for voles. Meanwhile the tall, thin hunchback known as Quest-yunn looked characteristically quizzical.
'What call?' he queried.
'The Call to Adventure,' repeated Quest-or, impatiently, 'We must set forth, upon our holy quest, to recover this spinster's feline!'
Minerva, who had been watching aghast, rumpled indignantly at this. Gagmuffin, now seated, sent a text.
'Oh,' said Quest-yunn, pausing for thought, 'why's that?' he finished perplexedly.
Quest-or turned, exasperated.
'It is our solemn duty to our master!' he squeaked, incandescent with irk, 'We must fulfil our sacred task, whatever perils we may encounter!'
'Is that wise?' mused Quest-yunn, ponderously.
'Fuck cares if it's wise!' shrieked Quest-or, incensed, 'It's what we've been summoned to do!'
Quest-rel hovered.
'Oh right,' said Quest-yunn, sheepishly, 'and why have we been summoned to do this?'
'Because we’re the goddamn QUESTLINGS. It's in our frig-mothering name!' harped Quest-or, emphatically.
'Gotcha,' said Quest-yunn confidently, then he opened his mouth again.
'If you ask me another fucking thing I'll ram Quest-rel's beak down your gullet!'
Quest-rel hovered.
Quest-yunn closed his mouth, cowed, and silently feeling as though Quest-or was stymying his contribution to the group. He made a note to bring it up at the next AGM.
'Right,' said Quest-or, determinedly coolly, 'here's what we do. We cross the enchanted stream of which this lady speaks and follow her cat's enchanted footprints wherever they may lead us. The magic will act as a guide long after the prints themselves have faded but we must move quickly before it dissipates. Quest-rel, you take aerial watch, Quest-yunn and I will follow on the ground.'
He paused.
'Any questions?' he said, warily.
'Why are we doing this, again?' said Quest-yunn. And Quest-or fell, defeated.
Minerva and Gagmuffin, who had long since given up caring, were making mad, passionate love on the hearth.
And maybe that was the real quest all along.
Quest-rel, oblivious to everything, hovered.
THE END.
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