The Uhhhhhhh Spa

"Going to Mordor!" Cried Pippin. "I hope it won’t come to that!"
Post Reply
Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Not far from the bustling stalls and angry shouts of the Black Market there’s what looks like an old, run down, burned out building. For years, no one ever gave this place a second thought. It was just a husk with a crumbling foundation, rotting walls, an infestation of rats, weasels, and possum, a caved-in ceiling, more than a few dead bodies, and something growing in the basement. Why would anyone ever want to buy it, let alone use it? Goblin kids would break in and hold seances in the attic, trying to contact one of the Nine. Orcs would use the place periodically as a drinking haven, but that ended when their moonshine still exploded and killed half of them. Some people think the building is haunted, that it’s home to a malevolent spirit of an angry elf that was killed in the great battle at the gates of the Dark Tower. Most just avoid it.

Until now.

Two doofuses, an idiot goblin named Fleeg and a moronic orc name Reg decided one day that they were going to buy it. When asked what the hell they were thinking, buying up a haunted ruin, Reg simply said “Uhhhhhhh…” and Fleeg said “Spa.” Thus, the Uhhhhhhh Spa was born.

For the next six months the two were hard at work building and rebuilding, exterminating and re-rebuilding until they finally had it built. Fleeg was able to leverage the earnings he’d been making at Druviz Kadar, his murder hornet apiary and Reg was able to pitch in money from his palmistry business (though the exact origins of the money remain a mystery) and now it is time for the Uhhhhhhh Spa’s Grand Opening!

The building still looks run down, but that’s by design. Can’t have anything looking too nice and fancy, that would attract elves and humans, and who needs them! Is that a dragon spine on the roof? And is that a leviathan skull? How much did this cost? Mig is going to be very, very upset when he looks over the finances.


Image

The doors are made of wood Reg found near the Warg Pits, its holey, half rotted, and doesn’t fit the frame, but he was very insistent that these be the doors.

Once passed Reception, any goblin, orc, or troll lucky enough to get inside will find their olfactory senses assailed with half a hundred different scents, some of them good, some of them bad, most of them unidentifiable and they’re best kept that way. The Spa itself is divided into a dozen rooms with an outdoor covered cafe in the back.

The east wing of the building is devoted to lockers (Fleeg and Reg were very clear that they were not liable if anything went missing).

The first room encountered is the Massage Parlor where a variety of goblins and orcs masseuses and masseurs offer a variety of services, ranging on a scale of relaxing to life-threatening. Tables, built in varying sizes to accommodate the variety of client sizes, are lined up in the middle of the room. Private rooms are also available upon request but do cost extra.

Beyond the Massage Parlor are the Mud Baths, holes dug into the ground with a variety of mud and temperatures ranging from pleasant to scalding death.

Next is the Yoga Studio. A raised platform overlooks a wide, empty space large enough to accommodate a class of two dozen goblins, one dozen orcs, or three trolls. Here is where Fleeg conducts his many yoga classes, designed to help his students become more flexible and more attuned to their bodily needs.

Next there is a large indoor pool, however this is not used as a pull, rather this is where Reg grows his many varieties of organic mushrooms and fungi he uses in the cafe. This area is off limits to all but the most exclusive clientele.

Directly opposite the pool and its fungal gardens, is the Art Studio where, once they hire someone, art classes will be conducted.

Outside, across from the café is the Zen Garden. At the moment, the Zen Garden is under construction but patrons should feel free to pull any of the weeds, thorny bushes, and brambles as an exercise in patience and serenity.

Need any help finding something? Ask any one of our very helpful staff members (all are gm-able by the characters, but do be reasonable):
Gabby Tammie Swampback: a wizened but very skilled goblin masseuse with six fingers on her long bony hands
Granny Charlene Scrapmingler: human, in charge of the mud baths, may or may not have a cactus growing out of her shoulder
Vroomsha: head sous chef, goblin, also wanted for grave robbing, likely unrelated to culinary skills
Gog the Troll: expert masseur, also keeper of the snails
Vark: orc, security guard
Tembard Ungleheim: goblin, in charge of acquiring spa supplies, very cranky, age indeterminable
Sok: accupunturist, troll
Grolgrayrzrat: orc, barber and groomer, Reg and Arthur's distant cousin

Thread Rules:
1) Godmoding only okay with the staff who aren't cHAoS brOs
2) Please post your location at the top of your post
3) Don't be a doofus, or do, whatever
4) Updated: Don't be a twhit twoo to the staff, otherwise the TR reserves the right to godmode the situation to their discretion
Last edited by Akhenanat on Wed Feb 24, 2021 2:36 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 938 
Posts: 2854
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 9:29 pm
Spa Services
When requesting a treatment, please specify your desired intensity along the provided scale.
Spa Services also make great gifts and/or finales to murder plots!
Ask about gift certificates today!

Nails
Manicure/Pedicure: From delightful filing and painting to full-on nail extraction
Nail Extensions: From having false nails affixed to your own to having your real nails gradually pulled further out of your hands

Face/Skin
Cucumber Eye Treatment: From soothing eye mask to using a dull cucumber to gouge your eyes out
Snail Moisturizer: From a face mask made with snail slime to having acidic snails placed on your skin
Full-Body Scrub: From gentle exfoliation to flaying

Body
Hot Stone Massage: From pleasant hot stones to relax tense muscles to a full-on dip in lava
Acupuncture: From gentle relaxation to just straight up impaling
Mud Bath: From a relaxing soak in exfoliating mud to death by quicksand
Deep Tissue Massage: From intense massage to having your flesh extracted and massaged with herbs, to be served in the cafe

Hair
Haircut: From trimming your locks to being slashed with a blade made of a thousand pointy hair slivers
Grooming: From a simple brushing to having all your hair mercilessly torn out or burned off with Monat (victim's choice)
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 938 
Posts: 2854
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 9:29 pm
Café Menu
All ingredients fresh and locally sourced!

Starters
Jerky: What it sounds like
Garlic and Herb Mushrooms: Shrooms sautéed to savory perfection! Mushrooms cultivated by (and possibly on) Reg! Definitely hallucinogenic, but not as long-lasting as the Risotto.
Mashed Potatoes: May or may not just be mushy extracted eyeballs covered in gravy.

Mains
Mushroom Risotto: Rich, creamy, and possibly hallucinogenic, depending on the day’s fungus harvest. Mushrooms cultivated by (and possibly on) Reg!
Pasta with “Grated Parmesan Cheese”: Handmade pasta served with a generous amount of what may or may not be skin shavings from the previous day’s full body scrubs
Steak: Fresh cuts of meat provided by patrons who’ve experienced our most intense deep tissue massages. Heavily seasoned.

Drinks
Mineral Smoothies: Ask about the Geode of the Day!
Mushroom Grog: Pungent and earthy, sure to not quench your thirst. It is very strong.
Coffee: When ordering, please specify how dark a roast you’d like (both re: the drink and any morbid jokes the barista makes at your expense)
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image
Fleeg, at reception

He stretched his arms outward and released a big, triumphant sigh. He’d done! The spa was live! His dream was fully realized! It had taken months and months of planning, of keeping Reg from destroying the building, of keeping Mig happy with “progress reports” and “financial soundness”, and of evicting elf ghosts. But it was finally here! The Uhhhhhhh Spa was finally open for business! He’d flooded the Black Market with fliers, he’d run a full-page ad in the Daily Orc, had created a social media campaign with a fancy Hashtag (Búbosha’s lava snake), and it had all worked! He’d done everything short of hiring Khaulzîm to sing a jingle for him. A metaphorical idea candle popped into Fleeg’s head and he jotted something down on a piece of parchment he kept in the breast pocket of his business suit. He should write a letter to the human and see if he was game to sing an original Fleeg creation.

Customers hadn’t come flooding in, yet which was disappointing, but then again, he’d only just unlocked the doors. He had put the right time on the fliers, right? He bit his lip as he thought. Ouch! Goblins shouldn’t bite their lip; it was dangerous with all their pointed teeth. He wiped the blood with the cuff of his jacket and straightened himself up. They’d come. They’d be here. Where was Reg? Was that fungal flatulent orc late? Fleeg grumbled and made another note to dock the orc’s share of the profits if he didn’t show soon. It would serve him right!

Fleeg began pacing back and forth in reception, his nerves alight with giddiness. He was quite certain that at any moment, a dust cloud would form on the horizon from the trampling hordes of people running to get acupuncture, sign up for yoga classes, and take a dip in the mud baths. Any moment now.

Any. Moment. Now.

Fleeg paced some more. The staff were all here, including the trolls. How was it that the trolls were on time, but Reg was still snoring somewhere in his cave? Fleeg let out a shout of frustration and his cHaOs BrO.

“Oh crap!” He yelled when he looked at the reception area. There was no one behind the reception desk. He hadn’t hired someone to be the receptionist! No! you idiot! How could you forget something so obvious? You hired a troll acupuncturist, but you forgot someone to greet patrons when they came in? Fleeg! Mig was going to have a field day with this and call him irresponsible again. “Nothing to do for it now,” he muttered and climbed into the chair behind the desk. Wow, this thing was uncomfortable! He needed to hire someone fast.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Búbosha

Búbosha tiptoed into the Spa, timidly. This was because

A) Her toad shoes were pinching her feet
B) She was attempting to be inconspicuous.

Why inconspicuous? Well, like many goblins, Bub was a natural sneaker. Being undetected sometimes gives you unexpected opportunities, like running a front page exposé on the practices of newly formed business ventures, or maybe just nicking a handful of the free mints on the counter.

Alas, Bûbosha wasn’t quite sneaky enough. She jumped a foot into the air as she heard a voice yell, “Oh crap!” by the deception desk she was sneaking up to. (NB Narrator: This is a typo, but I’m leaving it.) Bubosha shrieked involuntarily before straightening up to see...

“Oh, it’s you,” she said to Fleeg, frowning. “What’s all this about then?”
cave anserem
Image

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 938 
Posts: 2854
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 9:29 pm
Image
Regdûsh

The alarm went off. Reg punched it.

The other alarm went off. Reg punched that one, too.

He managed to ignore a total of eight squawking bird alarms before shooting out of bed and into a raggedy pair of pants and zooming out of his cave and down the hill on his tricycle, bound for the grand opening of Uhhhhhhhhh Spa.

He decided to sneak in the back (through the zen garden and into the pool-slash-fungal-gardens) to avoid the screechy wrath of Fleeg. His chAoS BRO would probably have expected him to arrive earlier (not unreasonable, given that they’d agreed upon a time for the grand opening which was now long past) and would thusly be twisted into knots of goat-shrieking rage.

Reg tiptoed through the cafe (the smell of mushrooms on the air felt so homely) and slunk into the locker room. He’d just made sure all the lockers were locked and the keys thrown away (for security) when he heard voices from the reception area. He peeked through the door to see Fleeg, perched awkwardly on a chair and distracted already by a female goblin. Reg beamed. “Our firs’ customer!” he thought with glee. The lady goblin looked as though she could use a day at the spa.

“‘ello!” Reg said, striding to greet her. “This dolt been telling you about the spa, eh? Well, don’t believe a word he says - it was all my idea!” If he’d been wearing suspenders (or known what they were), he probably would have hooked his thumbs on them and smiled toothily at this moment. The patron could count herself lucky that this wasn’t the case.
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Knight of The Mark
Points: 572 
Posts: 320
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 6:10 am
Image


White Horse
Reception Area

A white horse trotted into the Uhhhhhhh Spa with her head held high. Approahing the desk she gave a snort and a shake of her head in displeasure when she noticed that someone (Bub) was making her wait before she could talk to her new 'friend'. She'd been offered a bribe to bring her cute face inside the spa and now she was here to collect.

Seeing Fleeg behind the reception desk, she was hoping the goblin held up his end of the bargain and was ready to hand over what she'd been promised. If not, white horse should let him know she was serious. Would a bite do the trick? Or would kicking be more successful in relaying seriousness?
Last edited by Rior Laegiel on Tue Feb 09, 2021 12:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 938 
Posts: 2854
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 9:29 pm
Image
Regdûsh, Reception

Reg blinked. What? What was happening? A ... what were those things called, again? Houses? Hoses? Horses? Ah yes, horses. A White Horse had just entered the spa.

“Uhhhhh,” he said, mouth hanging open, all the proud glee of a moment ago dissipating like smoke on the wind. (Given the name of the place, this really was not an altogether unsuitable thing to say.)

“Um,” he resumed, turning to Fleeg and lowering his voice to a whisper. “You know this thing? What’re you up to, yeh filthy booger?”
she/her | Esta tierra no es mía, soy de la nocheósfera.

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Búbosha

Búbosha tugged at a strand of her hair, nervously. It came out.

Fleeg was standing stock-still and unresponsive as if stunned, as well he might have been - a gorgeous horse had just trotted into the spa and was snorting at Bübosha. Bub sidled away. Unfortunately, this only brought her closer to Reg, who was enthusiastically shouting again.

“He hasn’t actually said anything about the Spa,” she confided, casting another side-long glance at Fleeg.

“In fact, he hasn’t said anything at all.”

Really, this was terrible receptionist behaviour. If there had been anything approximating trading standards in Mordor (there isn’t) Búboshá might have felt compelled to make a report (useless).
cave anserem
Image

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Fleeg, at Reception

Despite his claim to great suaveness and self confidence, There were times (usually predicated on the presence of very attractive goblinesses, or Reg doing dumb things, or horses appearing where horses were not expected) that Fleeg completely shut down. His eyes glazed over like a doughnut and a bit of drool trickled down his chin. He came out if his stupor when his cHãØs BrÖ started yapping his flappy gums.

“Hey, ass face! Don’t go spreading fake news! This was my idea. The name was yours but that’s because you said something stupid before I could answer!” He hopped down off the chair, attempting a cart wheel that was sure to impress, and landed in front on Búbosha. Akin to Reg, but unknown to both, if he had suspenders he would have hooked his thumbs through them as well. Fleeg smiled though, and the two dozen or so needle teeth in his mouth popped out in every possible direction. “Búbosha! It’s so wonderful you stopped by! Did you know that, as the very first customer at the,” he paused and sighed “Uhhhhhhhh Spa you are entitled to a free massage and acupuncture treatment?” If that didn’t soften her up then no centipede, no matter how large, poisonous, and colorful, would ever be enough.

Before he could berate his cHåôs Br0 further for being such a twhit twoo, horse wandered in through the door.

Yup. A horse. A white horse.

“What the flying fredegar!?” He yelped.

His mind raced. Why was a horse in the Spa? Was it delivered? Had Reg planned on making horse steaks? He looked at his Chæos Brø but the coño had an expression of befuddlement that exceeded his normal look of befuddlement. He hadn’t order equine steaks.

The whole room was tense and quiet. If the horse bolted or reared up in reception they were fredegar.

“Uhhhhhhhh, welcome to the Uhhhhhhh Spa?” was this horse a patron? Oh shire balls.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Knight of The Mark
Points: 572 
Posts: 320
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 6:10 am
Image


White Horse
Reception Area

When Bub sidled out of her way she bobbed her head once in approval and thank you. Closing the short distance to the reception desk and turned to look at Fleeg. By the confused look on the goblin's face he didn't seem to recognize her or remember his promise.

When he welcomed her to the spa she neighed in thank you but backed away from the desk a bit and walked in circles a few times, in imitation of a ring, in hopes of jogging his memory. Neighing again in question Remember? and looking to see if sje'd been successful but she was unsure.
Last edited by Rior Laegiel on Tue Feb 09, 2021 12:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image
Fleeg
Reception

To call Fleeg confused would be an understatement. To call him utterly batshire confounded would be closer to the mark. This horse wasn’t meant for the café menu, at least not yet, but Fleeg couldn’t figure out what it was doing here. He was further flummoxed by the fact that the horse was white. A white horse in Mordor? Wasn’t that a saying “as likely as a white horse in Mordor”? Well if it wasn’t before, it was now. Not that that helped Fleeg at all. His animal handling skills, sans centipedes, murder hornets, and worms was practically nonexistent. He tried to train a warg once, but the thing nearly bit off his face within ten seconds of the purchase. Thankfully a refund had been offered and Fleeg was only out half the cost. Horses were… well they were horses and Fleeg was a goblin. Yet this horse seemed unperturbed. Most horses tried to step on Fleeg, something in their genetic memory, or Fleeg just had one of those faces that makes one want to kill him upon sight. His eyes turned as wide as salad bowls (salad being a thing he was trying to add to the menu, “spinach leaves” with “mushrooms”, “ham”, and “warg cheese”) when the horse began to turn in circles Wasn’t that a thing horses did right before they… “Oh shire! Oh shire! Wait, no! No! Don’t shire! Don’t!”

He tried to think fast, not his strongest skill. How does one stop a horse from going to the bathroom? He had no utter idea. He looked to Reg, but the orc seemed as confused as he was as all he could say was “Uhhhhhhhh”. It was not altogether inappropriate, but it was not altogether helpful. Had Fleeg really thought Reg would be helpful though? Frantic, he looked at Búbosha but realized that, as a customer, she wasn’t going to be much help. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap!

“I, uh,” he had an idea then lost it, looking up at the giant equine monstrosity. “You seem to know what you…” the tone of his voice rose at the end of the sentence, hopefully denoting that the goblin was asking a question without actually making it clear what he was asking. This was getting awkward.

“Uh, can I get some apples while we wait for… your… appointment?”

Had he seen this horse at some point? He thought he remembered talking to a horse at one point in the past week but he also remembered being high on something called “PAM” at the time too so the question of whether or not this conversation happened was open to a variety of interpretations.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Ent Ancient
Points: 2 696 
Posts: 1830
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 11:34 pm
Disclaimer: This post was made as penance for my utter lack of knowledge for Mordor’s Tax Code and general ignorance of all things Mordorian. (@The King in Yellow, just remember you asked for this…)

Durzhat, President, First Lady and Founding Father of the Fleeg Fan Club (yep she can totally be all three cause she said so)
Arriving at Reception


FLEEG STARTED A SPA?!?! There was no time to lose!

Durzhat dropped everything. Literally everything. And she was holding a machete. Which was a bad idea because she stood on the edge of a tall cliff. It took some time to fall to the ground but before it did, it lobbed off an orc’s head which went rolling along for a good while on one last adventure before a troll stepped on it.

Splat. Oh well.

Durzhat squelched her way through sinking mud and quicksand, over lava-sharp rocks that could tear you to pieces, past the Troll dens and the Warg Pits and the Black Pits and wow there sure were a lot of Pits around here, huh? And don’t get me started on all those Towers... Where was I? Oh yes, Durzhat running across Mordor...

Apparently Durzhat is some kind of long-distance runner and after her marathon, the mohawked lady-orc arrived at the Uhhhhhhh Spa without a speck of sweat on her grey skin.

“FLEE-eeeeg!” She aimed for an appealing sing-song-ish voice but it came out as a croak because Durzhat could not even remotely sing.

“What the flaming Eye is that?!” she exclaimed upon seeing the white horse. She sniffed once, then twice. It smelled like dinner. Maybe that’s what it was doing here? She leered at the horse and clacked her claws together. Her stomach rumbled and her mouth watered at the idea of fresh horseflesh to munch on...ohh the flanks went down a treat...

But Durzhat would not be deterred from her errand.

“Fleeg!! The Fleeg. The One and Only Fleeg. First of his name.” (er but was he??) ”Master of Chaos and Mayhem, Bringer of Murder Hornets, Owner and Proprietor of the Uhhhhhhh Spa!!” She fawned. “Did I miss anything? What a genus you are, Fleeg, starting this spa, a first class genus.” She nodded her head knowingly as only an idiotic orc can. “You are the cleverest, baddest, fiercest, and most fearsome goblin from here to Angmar and everyone here should know it!”

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image
At Reception

Fleeg’s predicament with the white horse was not getting any better. No solution had magically presented itself and he was out of ideas. To be fair, he had no ideas to begin with and his continued hope that a solution would drop like an anvil out of the sky had been dashed. Also, an anvil falling out of the sky at this point in his professional career could be a bad thing. Sky lights were nice yes, but the liability insurance rates were still for the Spa within it’s first hours of operation and there was no way he could cover the premium for fixing the roof if an anvil dropped through it. Of course, Fleeg didn’t really understand the insurance he’d bought. Naturally, he’d left the numbers and lawyerspeak to his older brother Mig, who was crazy and evil enough to actually find that sort of nonsense enjoyable. Mig was weird. A thought came into Fleeg’s head unbidden (as did most thoughts because Fleeg liked to keep a nice empty room up there) that Mig might have screwed him over on the deal he supposedly was able to get. Mig had been against the spa from the beginning; Mig was against everything Fleeg ever did. Mig was boring, but he has conniving. Fleeg made a mental note to check the policy to see exactly what it was he was paying for.

As soon as this mental note was written, however, Fleeg forgot all about insurance. Another customer! Delighted that he no longer had to deal with the horse that might at any moment decide to make apples, the green skinned goblin squeezed around the edges of the horse and puffed out his chest to greet the newcomer.

To say that he was not prepared for what he found would have been an understatement. He’d never met this orc woman (Orcess? She-orc? Orcette?) but she seemed to be very up to date on his accomplishments. And she was very enthusiastic about recounting them.

“It’s me alright!” he said, puffing his chest out and smiling with sharp, pointed teeth going in all direction. “The one and only!” That was correct as far as Fleeg knew. The actual first goblin named Fleeg had vanished many, many years ago, though rumors persisted that he was merely travelling the world, finding new and interesting ways to kill and torture people. Fleeg was actually the 87th of his name, but he was not about to correct his… fan(?) and inform her that there might be a more impressive Fleeg out there. He was the kind of goblin (meaning he was just a goblin) that loved having his ego brushed, fluffed, and polished.

“That’s very kind of you,” he said, trying not to correct her use of the genus over genius, or was she right, was it that he was a genus and the name of a bug was a genius? He’d have to ask Mig.

Had he met this orc before? She looked familiar, had she been at his grand opening of the Murder Hornet Apiary? Had it been outside his goblin hovel in the morning, hiding in the brambles? Had it been at the annual chicken killing festival a few months ago when he took second place (killing and eating the second most chickens in under five minutes)? She had a very memorable face, his memory was not the best, mostly because of the toad licking, but he was sure it would come to him if he didn’t think about it too much.

“So what can I, Fleeg Phlegmson, owner of the Uhhhhhhhhh Spa, do for you today? Would you like to try our massage tables? Perhaps a lava rock massage would do the trick, help bring out the glow of your lovely grey skin? Or maybe you’d like to be the first to try out our acupuncturist, Sok? I know, I’m going to be teaching some yoga in the next hour or so, perhaps you’d like to sign up for that? With every purchase of a yoga class, you get one free meal in the café!”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Bûbosha

If only she had been able to grow proper brows - a luxuriant, beetling growth that gave her some real gravitas - Bübosha would’ve been raising them about now. Alas, like many a goblin maid, she was not blessed with thick hair; and so, like not so many a goblin maid, she had resorted to replacing said brows with little caterpillars that arched into position when she required a particular expression to be adopted.

She poked them upwards with a long fingernail. This was outrageous. First she was to be ignored for an admittedly gorgeous horse (from whom Buboshâ would be taking hair care tips later) - but now, another orc?! An orc who was sweet-talking Fleeg as well! Why, the AUDACITY!!!

Fleeg’s chest was swelling so rapidly that it looked positively bad for him. Well, Buboshä to the rescue. She shuffled forwards and made to poke him in said expanding chest with her caterpillar-poking finger.

“Excuse me,” she said in a voice so acid it could’ve been used as a troll face-peel. “Weren’t you showing ME around?”

She shot a dirty glance at Durzhat. A rival. A RIVAL FOR ATTENTION.
cave anserem
Image

Ent Ancient
Points: 2 696 
Posts: 1830
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 11:34 pm
Durzhat, Prez, F.L.F.F., Fleeg Fan Club (try saying that five times fast)
at reception


Durzhat pinched herself so hard she drew blood. Gulping goblins, this was really real! She was here at Fleeg’s Uhhhhhhhhh Spa finally making his (in)famous acquaintance. And so much was on offer! A massage, acu-what-ture and...yoga? Was that some sort of acronym (Y.O.G.A.? Yellow-Orange Goop Applied??) Or possibly, hopefully a form of martial art?

Durzhat scratched the bald patch of her head and little flakes of grey skin rained down on her shoulders like ash (speaking of hair care, the dry climate just sucked all the moisture right out of her scalp- a conditioning treatment might go a long way). Her Fleeg-fandom-fact-gathering only went so far and did not extend to spa services. Whatever yoga was, if Fleeg was the goblin in charge, Durzhat was in. And she did not want to ask and look like some kind of idjit troll in front of him. At least she did not have caterpillars for eyebrows!

"Are those brows a spa service, too?" She leered at Bûbosha. "I paint mine on with the blood of my toes. Er, I mean foes."

“I'm fit as a fiddleback spider," she gloated. It should go without saying - hello, she’d just run a fredegaring marathon to get here!! "So sign me up for the yoga. Put me down as Durzhat, President, First Lady and Founding Father of the Fleeg Fan Club.”

Durzhat flexed her bicep and reached up to pick at her very not pearly and definitely not white teeth (maybe dental work was in order too) with a claw. Instead of flicking away the piece of her last meal, she placed it on her tongue and swallowed. It would tide her over til she got that free meal or maybe the white horse. Food was food.

Knight of The Mark
Points: 572 
Posts: 320
Joined: Sat May 16, 2020 6:10 am
Image


White Horse
Reception Area

If horses could sigh in frustration she would have done so. What could she do to make Fleeg remember who she was? Did he really think she would do her business inside the spa?? This made her snort. She may be a horse but she was more well trained than most two legged beings. But if they needed some horse poo for mud baths or to use as ingredients in face masks she would oblige of course. That could be a great new addition to the spa that could bring customers from all over Mordor to the Uhhhhhhh spa. She would bet that no one knew that horse poo was better for the skin than any anti wrinkle cream on the market and it made the skin nice and soft. Though she didn't think there was any way of her getting her ideas through to the goblin who owned the place.

While she had been trying to make Fleeg understand why she was there the goblin's attention had been called away from her by others (Bûb and Durzhat) and she took the opportunity to try to come up with what to do next. Oh wait, hadn't she brought a piece of folded paper with her on the way to the spa? Where was it now? Looking around the floor of the spa she didn't see anything and she hadn't seen anyone pick up anything that looked like what she had brought. Maybe it was outside?

Going outside, she didn't find it on the ground in the immediate surroundings of the spa but as it turned out she had dropped it a bit farther down the road. Relieved that no one had taken it she hurried over to it and picked up the envelope. When returning inside the Uhhhhhhh spa, Fleeg was still occupied with the other visitors to the spa and she would wait for her turn, she just needed to get the message to the goblin first. If she could have written the note herself she would have but she had dicated to an old lady who claimed to be an animal whisperer but who knew if there was any truth to that..

She'd originally planned to send the envelope by mail rather than deliver it herself but then she'd changed her mind. She vagiely remembered there was a line in there about kidnapping her from Rohan but he wouldn't have to do that now that she was already here.

*The envelope and the paper within both have a big bitemark on them as if being carried none to gently by a horse.*

Dear Fleeg,

What are you willing
to do in order to lure
a pristine white horse

from light to darkness?
You may have to kidnap me
from my Rohir home.

Even then I can't
promise not to bite or cause
you any mischief.

Unless of course you
bring that bribe you have promised
and give me a ring.

Come bring me the one
ring to rule them all. Make me
master of the nine!

I wish to be the
lord of the Nazgûl horses

+ all other horses.

I will be your friend,
forever, if you can make
my wish come true. Now!!!

Or do you need me
to say please and thank you, sir?
I need to grovel?

No can do, Sir Fleeg.
Horses can not talk, you know.
But I will be your

friend, I promise, and
I will even carry you
on my back when you

need a companion
to travel there
+ back again.
What is your answer?

Your friend,
Horse


@The King in Yellow

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image
Reception

shire. That’s what Fleeg was in right now. Deep. And this was just the first day of the Spa! The idiot goblin couldn’t tell if this was a good thing for business or not. The horse had reestablished its presence in the middle of the floor but Fleeg, a poor animal handler in the best of times, had no idea what was going on. Clearly, clearly this horse was not meant to be eaten. He looked at the shanks a moment too long deciding that before returning his gaze to the horse’s eyes. If there was any recognition (or vague hints of intelligence) it was in the horse’s eyes, Fleeg’s were as brown as the shire he found himself deep in. Without warning the horses turned tail (now is not the time for puns, Fleeg) and left the spa, only to return a moment later, an envelop in their mouth. Deciding to roll with the weird, he took the envelope from the horse’s mouth and read the poem. It was a very nice poem, Fleeg assumed. He could read of course, what descendent of Fleeg the Terrible couldn’t read? But his skills in poetry were lacking, almost as lacking as his skills in teeth brushing. He eyed the letter several times. He’d lured a horse away from Rohan? When did he do that? He remembered being in Rohan, something about spiders and sombreros, but apparently there had been much more to it. He’d convinced a horse to come to Mordor, to be given a ring, and then be made into a horse for the Nazgûl? The last one sounded unlikely but he was known to say all sorts of stupid things when he was licking toads, which he invariably had been.

Well there it was in black and white (and a little yellow from the horse’s saliva). He’d promised this horse a ring. He stared at the paper. Stared and stared and stared while hoping an idea would form out of the aether. Being that he was an idiot goblin though, nothing came to him. He looked over at Reg, but his hairy companion seemed to be more interested in the mushroom growing out of his belly button than the large white horse taking up a good portion of reception. He was on his own. He had not idea how to make rings, let alone for a horse. Did it mean… “You mean like a…” he indicated to his nose and pulled on his own nose ring, a brass thing he eventually planned on replacing with something in gold. “I think…” he bit his lip with crooked teeth and tried to think. Did he have a way of getting a ring? A magic ring? A magic nose ring? For horses? He was certain there was a place he could steal it from in the Black Market if need be. He folded the paper, shoved it into a coat pocket and stuck his hand out. “I think I get ya!” he looked at his hand, then to the horse’s hoof and swiped his hand back, covering for his attempt at a handshake… with a horse.

Moving on!

Here was were the shire was hitting the fan. The situation between Búbosha and Durzhat was likely much more dire, but Fleeg (never before the target of anything but scorn and empty beer bottles) had no idea the danger he was in. Still, attention was attention and Fleeg was not going to let an opportunity go to waste! He beamed a big, toothy grin (accidently cutting his lip in the process) and made a strange, intricate bow and kissed her hand. He nearly lost his footing but hopefully no one saw that. “Yoga is…” how did one describe yoga? He read a 12 page pamphlet on it once and remembered about half of it. “Yoga is all about bending and sitting and something about finding inner peace and not accidently tearing your muscles or something. Anyway,” without looking at Búbosha’s increased amounts of rage and jealousy he bounded to the reception desk again and pulled a poorly rendered facsimile of the pamphlet from a drawer and handed it to Durzhat. “You can read all about the benefits of yoga there. The class will begin… uh” he suddenly realized he didn’t remember the schedule he’d set up for the yoga classes. Had he set up a schedule? Running a spa was more logistical then he imagined. When did “Step 3: Profit” kick in? He shrugged. “as soon as I’m done here. It'll be right throw the hallway and on the right, next to where Sok is doing his acupuncture.”

Fleeg, ever the unobservant twhit twoo that he was, missed the verbal sparring the self proclaimed president of his fan club and the object of his goblin-y desires were engaged in. Rather, he thought they were talking about… whatever it was that goblin women talked about when the men weren’t around, nails and snails or something. “Oh that’s right!” he turned a strange shade of green. “I was going to give you the grand tour wasn’t I?” He puffed out his not really that impressive goblin chest and gave her his hooked arm. Sure he had a magic nose ring to get a horse and a yoga routine to figure out, but that’s why he had Reg. “What would you like to see first, the centipede tank” (which was similar to a lobster tank but... uh, not) “or maybe our private massage rooms? Or maybe you’d like to see the garden?”

Reg!” he shouted over his shoulder without bothering to look where he was going, “I’m going to be giving a tour! Don’t break anything while I’m gone.”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

High Lord of Imladris
Points: 5 208 
Posts: 2755
Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am
Umoya
Bloody Violentines part 1

She looked at her 'date' I mean she wasn't normally the type to go for the half orc female but who knows murder and mischief were on the list of things they could get into perhaps during a massage she could talk Zaram she was certain that was her name to that they might kill their massage therapist... if that's what one wanted to call the beings in this spa. Maybe they could push them into a lava pit. It could be fun who knew

She put the voucher on the table and looked at the orc that sat there with narrowed eyes at the board that showed what treatments were available. "I'll have a deep tissue massage, of the sort where my muscles stay on my bones. If I feel a single scratch I will tear the masseuse limb from limb using my teeth." She said her plump lip raising up in a bit of a snarl showing a fairly sharp (for a human) canine tooth. "And since I'm not an orc it will take a lot of work and be even more painful for them am I clear?" She gave a smile. "Mmm and this violentines thing comes with food apparently I'll have a mushroom salad, hopefully this is not where that sentient mushroom came from in the Violentines meet." She said calmly and looked to see what Zaram was up to in terms of what she would be getting for a treatment.

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Gabby Tammie Swampback
The Massage Parlor

The old gobliness looked at the human with practiced indifference, her heavy, green eyelids barely flickering open as the human girl burst in, threatened her, and presented Gabby with a coupon. The ancient goblin’s face split into a wide, yellowed toothy grin. She remembered that lovely young girl Silizlîn coming in and requesting a coupon for something she called ‘Violentines’. Gabby had no idea what that was (probably some weird human thing like a costume party where they punched each other and bobbed for apples) but she was more than happy to provide the human with what she needed. She looked over the coupon for much longer than she needed, doing her best to test the patience of this new human. She was a violent one, that was for sure. But she was young too. “Well dearie, I would happy to give you a massage. And I promise not do knead too hard now.” She grinned, showing her mouthful of yellow and green teeth. “It says here you have a date joining you?”

She crooked her neck around, tilting her head over on a nearly ninety degree angle to peer around the girl but at the moment the only three people in the room were the bog witch, the girl, and the troll masseur. “I suppose I can let you get ready until your companion arrives.” The old goblin bog witch spoke very slowly, deliberately pronouncing each syllable. “I would though, reconsider your threat…” her voice trailed off as she lifted up a hitherto unseen necklace, a sterling silver thread filled with dozens of human, elf, and orc teeth, root, crown, and all. “You have a lovely face dearie, I would hate to have to ruin it because we both lost our patience.” She cracked her six fingered hands, causing each joint to pop with an utterly satisfying sound. “I should introduce myself. I’m Gabby Tammie Swampback. Tell me child, what do you call yourself?”

OOC All: (I’ve done a quick update on the thread rules, be sure to check them out before posting)
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Elven Enchanter
Points: 2 265 
Posts: 1451
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 2:15 am
Zaram
Bloody Violentines

She was a bit disgruntled at the idea of going to a spa, but Zâram did care about her looks and the haradrim woman looked evil enough for her to spend some time with. She followed Umoya's example and slid her voucher across the desk as well. She wasn't entirely certain what sort of experience she wanted to have. Normally she was the one pounding on someone, not the one getting pounded on. Hearing Umoya's threat about tearing the masseuse apart with her teeth made Zâram grin. This woman sounded like someone pleasant and perhaps a bit interested in stabbing people or otherwise causing some mischief.

At last she snarled, "I'll have a full-body as well. Make sure it's nice and deep and a bit painful, though not lethal, at least for me. I don't care if it's lethal for the masseuse." As she spoke, her stomach rumbled ever so slightly and she quickly added, "And include a bit of that mushroom salad." Whether or not the food was a bit suspicious wasn't her problem. She had the stomach of an orc after all and could handle just about anything going into it.

Turning towards Umoya she said, "So, what exactly are we supposed to do? Is this where we spill out our life story to each other or do we let ourselves sink into oblivion first?" Romance was not something that was usually on Zâram's mind, at least when she wasn't drunk. She had a distinct memory of drunkenly kissing some male stripper at the pup a while back, but wasn't certain if that counted.

@Fuin Elda Sorry it took me so long to post! Sort of forgot about this, as I am apt to do.

High Lord of Imladris
Points: 5 208 
Posts: 2755
Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am
Umoya
Bloody Violentines

Umoya gave a small smirk her dark eyes looking Zaram up and down as she said she wanted the massage to be deep and painful though not lethal... Except perhaps for the masseuse. Her pink tongue licked her lips and she tilted her head. "I wonder if that silly Mushroom was an escaped member of whatever patch these mushroom salads are coming from. Pity they aren't here would be quite entertaining to have it watch it's own kind being eaten." She said with a smile ignoring the goblin behind the desk for a moment now that her 'date' had arrived. Though she did note the returned threat and debated on putting a very small very sharp blade into the goblins throat. She turned back to the goblin woman and gave her a smile, her eyes lidded slightly still debating the violence that had sprung to her mind for now though she gave a nod to the other woman.

"You asked about my date Gabby, this would be them, and you while you may be a skilled masseuse have no need of my name but you may call me Umo" Her small smile that barely showed tugging at the corners of her lips tended to make her look dangerous to any Haradrim man or Man of the west. She doubted it would work well on most goblins, though one that could smile while in the Dark Lands themselves especially after being threatened was a strange and likely as dangerous creature as the person doing the threatening. She had no doubt the goblin had every intention of following through of taking a tooth from her if they did come to blows. With that she turned back to Zaram.

"I've no idea, personally I've no need to tell you my life story nor do I want to hear yours, though perhaps while we do..." She waved her hand about in an unimpressed manner. "We can plot to kill something, or someone, I feel that would be far more entertaining than life stories."

OOC:@Dimcairien Luiniel No worries! Glad you finally made it!

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Buboshâ the Irritated

Buboshá shot a glance at Durzhat that was so venom-filled it could have set up as an apothecary and obtained a reasonable post-tax profit. The fact that the other orc was shedding both blood and body flakes (if you could even call that a body) only increased Bübosha’s inclination to sidle away and closer to the stunningly beautiful horse.

“Yoga? I guess you’re used to people shouting “Downward, dog!” to you,” Bubösha scoffed, turning away sharply and managing to flounce despite her clothing not being of the floaty variety whatsoever (well, perhaps some of the thinner leather and the lighter chains). Her smirk only widened as she allowed Fleeg to kiss her hand - a feeling not unlike that of the caterpillars - and took his arm.

“Bye, off for our tour now,” she announced breezily, the only breeze that had clearly ever stirred the dank air of the Uhhhh, Spa...
cave anserem
Image

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image
The Massage Rooms

Tsk, tsk, tsk. This is why Gabby dislike humans. Such much arrogance, so little substance. She fingered her necklace idly, running all six fingers along the crowns and roots of the teeth on her necklace. Her beady eyes narrowed as she watched the human’s mouth, the insolent smirk, the dull eyes, the slow reaction time. In her mind’s eye, the gobliness bog witch saw herself grab the woman by the back of the head and extract a tooth as violently and as quickly as she could. She smiled vaguely as she peered at the bloody piece of treasure in the glow of the volcano nearby. It would be beautiful, a fine addition to her collection. Back in the real world though, she sighed and rolled her eyes. The threats this woman was levying were as unimaginative Fleeg when he and Reg got drunk on mushroom grog. What was this woman’s excuse? She was clearly as sober as a stone. Gabby was about to say something cutting when the orc came. Her eyes sparkled with avarice, green shifting to gold. “Ahhhhh,” she croaked, stroking her long, pointed chin. “So good of you to arrive little dearie.”

She took a moment to size up the pair before waving to the tables absently. “Go on then, young ladies. I’ve got some very special oil for a couple’s massage. Only the best for Silizlîn’s patrons. I will warn both of you right now though,” her face twisted into a frown and she showed her own twisted fangs. “Try and stab me and I’ll be using your shrunken heads to house my cockroaches!” The moment passed and she gave them a sweet smile. She scuttled over to her work bench where assorted bottles lay strewn about. She waved the great horned beetle away as he tried to crawl onto her hand. “Not now little one, we won’t be needing your assistance today. You stay and relax while mama gets to work.” The beetle raised its front legs, waved, then skittered back into the tangle of bottles and refuse. Gabby picked out a special bottle, one she’d labeled with a thorn, and grinned, her canines peaking out over her thin green lips.

“Now, dearies… shall we begin? Who wants to go first?”

Image
Reception

Oblivious as ever, Fleeg thought he’d won. What he’d won he had no idea. It was very likely that he was still in grave danger but was so utterly clueless he wouldn’t know he was going to die until a crazed fan jabbed a knife in his ribs proclaiming that they’d be together forever. Ah, goblin romance! Speaking of goblin romance though, Fleeg had more important things to do than negotiate a peace between fans and flirtations. He took Búbosha by the hand and led her down the hallway. “Well, my centipedal darling,” he said with a grandiose wave of his hand. “This is where the massage rooms are located. As you can see, we have a wonderful, skilled staff. Gabby, Sok, and Gog are the best, most nimble fingers available. Just don’t look them in the eye, they tend to get a little aggressive if you do that.” Fleeg rubbed a sore spot on his side where Gabby had shivved him with a finger bone during the interview process (she was looking for a way to climb the corporate ladder, naturally that’s what made him hire her even though her references were sketchy as hell).

“Over here we have the mud baths, they range from tepid to boiling hot, depending on your stress levels, I read in a book” (no he hadn’t) “that mud baths are great for relieving stress, ‘specially when paired with aromatherapy. Old Granny Charlene knows all about that. Told me that I would do well wearing and infusion of crushed fire ants and goat thistle, she said it would bring me great success in love and business, it would clear my mind and make me a veritable genius. Here, smell.” He shoved his wrist into Búbosha’s face. “Wonderful isn’t it?
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Ent Ancient
Points: 2 696 
Posts: 1830
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 11:34 pm
Durzhat at Reception, then the Mud Baths
Durzhat nearly fell over when Fleeg kissed her hand and she definitely shivered with some sort of pleasure. Here she was, President of his Fan Club, finally making his acquaintance, and the center of his attention(!) (right where she should be (!)) obtaining an education about yoga! Bending, not straining muscles, check, check, check, she excelled at all the above!

She took the pamphlet eagerly, careful with her claws around His Eminence Fleeg, and brought it up to her nose to read. Bubosha’s comment smarted. Durzhat was often treated worse than a dog, or a warg, or even the fungus that grew in between her toes at her job. Snarling, she crushed the pamphlet in her fist. A poof of dust flew out.

A low growl vibrated in her throat. If only she had her machete, Bubosha would be one headless orcette right now...

“Open a tab for me, I’m going to be here a while,” she drawled at Reg, whom she’d barely taken notice of, before she slunk down on all fours and did her best to creep after Fleeg and Bubosha, arm-in-gangly-arm. (Did he not want chiseled, muscular arms to grip? She had them right here to offer!)

All things stopped when she heard Mud Baths. Oh sure, she’d run through some mud bowls on her way here, but a proper bath?! It was too good to pass up and could be added to her tab.

With a flourish of her mohawk, she ran for the baths, stripped out of her leather, chucked someone’s toe (a message to-be-delivered) to the side, and dove in with all the grace she had been given.

Durzhat belly-flopped into the mud bath with a very loud and painful SPLASH!

Arien
Arien
Points: 2 263 
Posts: 1843
Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:56 pm
Buboshà Sookie, the Eyebrow Caterpillar

When the words “centipedal darling” fell from Fleeg’s lips, naturally, we were delighted. Who are we? We’re Bubôsha’s eyebrow centipedes, and we’re your narrators for today! Anyway, where were we? That’s right, sitting neatly (ish) on Bubosha’s brows and doing our very best to make sure she was the height of goblinette elegance. If you’ve ever heard of beetled brows, let us tell you, caterpillared brows are just that step above.

So anyway, when Fleeg mentioned “centipedal darling”, of course we thought this referred to us. Who else? But there was some debate about *which one of us* he referred to. I’m Sookie, the Left Eyebrow, and my brother is Gregg, the Right Eyebrow. I could see him preening himself and looking disgustingly smug at the compliment, which in practice meant he was writhing all over dear Buboshá’s face and making her look as though she were about to have a fit. Or perhaps that was just her natural disgusted look at Fleeg’s general... well, everything? That boy could do with some Advice Caterpillars of his own, is all I’m saying.

“Calm down and stop your caterwrithing,” I hissed discreetly at Gregg, arching myself into a perfectly mocking curve as we passed the masseuses. One of them had terrible pointy fingers, reminding me of the beak of a bird (how we lost our other brother, Alphonse). I shuddered, making Bubosha look quite alarmed and twitchy. I could see her own fingers clamp into Fleeg’s arm as she tottered around on her toad heels. Weird foot choices but up here on her Head at least I didn’t have to smell them.

“You’re just jealous,” taunted Gregg as we were steered into the mud baths. I could hear a clomping behind us; probably that great ox Durzhat. She could certainly do with some work: a whole horde of creepy crawlers, preferably to eat her right down to the bone. “I’m a centipedal darling!”

“You’re not even a centipede, you idiot,” I hissed, doubt crawling through me, just like I crawled on a goblin face. Irony! Wait, is that really irony? I’m just a caterpillar. I don’t read much.

At this point Fleeg shoved his wrist up in Bûb’s face. I shrieked in caterpilly horror. Fire Ants! The enemy! As bad as birds - if not worse! Buboshá must’ve registered our panic, or maybe she just had a visceral reaction to the smell; because... well, anyway, darn if the girl didn’t just try to bite down instinctively, like she were a viper. Yowch.
cave anserem
Image

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Eric and Bill, the two centipedes crawling about in Fleeg’s pocket

Okay, sorry, this has to be done. We are interrupting the story of Fleeg Phlegmson that you’ve been following (why you’ve been doing that is beyond the pair of us) to tell you what’s really going on. Fleeg is an idiot. You know this, we know this, the Nazgûl know this, the lava snake buried halfway into the Ephel Dúath knows this. He often has no idea what it is that he’s doing, or what the consequences of his buffoonery are going to be. Fleeg is a child of privilege who believes his good fortunes (thus far) are due to his own hard work. I’ll pause while we all break into a deep belly laugh.

Sorry, onto the reason we’re breaking into the narrative and breaking the fourth wall. Fleeg’s cologne, for lack of a better word, was not made with fire ants and goat thistle. It was made with mashed beetles and dandelions. The cologne that Granny Charlene suggested Fleeg would indeed help him and was made of said ants and thistle. Fleeg, as with most assholes, is a cheapskate. What would this cutting of corners do? Well, let’s watch.

Bubosha bit Fleeg. We heard him scream and wail so loud that we wished we could have closed our not really existent ears. This doofus was loud at the best of times, when he was delving into his goat background though (Bill thinks he’s part goat I, Eric, am not so sure yet), he could out scream one of the Nine. He flailed and wailed and cried and should have died, but the world isn’t fair and Bubosha only bit down on his hand rather than his head. She had a set of jaws on her though! Wow! No matter how much he flailed and flubbed about she would not let go. He began screaming obscenities that, dear listener, we are not going to repeat here for the sake of any children that might still be reading things that Fleeg does (seriously, go to bed, this is too much for you). None of them were aimed at Bubosha, even Fleeg isn’t dumb enough to insult the goblinette that had his hand in her warg-like jaws. Sookie seemed to be having a heck of a time watching. Who’s Sookie? Well she’s the object of affection for both Bill and I, haven’t you seen True Blood? She’s also a caterpillar that doubles as Bubosha’s wondrous brows.

Fleeg was begging to be let go now. It’s nice to see this idiot in a state of begging. He’ll start crying soon if Bubosha doesn’t let go. We really hope she doesn’t. We both want to see Fleeg get knocked down a peg or two, or three (Bill thinks a pegging joke is appropriate here but I don’t so use your imagination).

Durzhat is around here somewhere too. Bill and I aren’t sure about her yet. She just appeared after all and she’s a bit crazy (not Fleeg level crazy yet). Perhaps once she posts in other places we can get a better feel for her. We kind of like her, she could end up killing Fleeg in a grand, tragic murder-suicide plot so there’s that too. Wouldn’t that be interesting? Still, she could do better than Fleeg. Hell, we could do better than Fleeg but we’re centipedes who got caught because we were too entranced by Sookie so what do we know?
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Image Image Image
At the Reception Desk, Months later after the Spa appears to have been abandoned

“Are we late? I think we’re late. The place looks like it’s closed.”

“What if we’re early? Could bes that we’re early.”

“No Gelp, we’re not early,” said the first voice. “It’s too late in the day to be early.”

“Huh?” asked the goblin called Gelp. “You can always be too early, unless you’re late, but then you could say that you’re just too early for tomorrow in which case you’re—”

“Would the two of you stop?” a female goblin asked, coming up from behind. “We aren’t early, and we aren’t late.”

“You think we’re right on time?” asked the first goblin.

“No,” she said.

“So we’re probably early,” asked Gelp, hopeful.

“No you windbagged ninnyhammer. I said we aren’t early.” She was growing exasperated.

“So then what are we?” asked the first goblin, who did have a name but it hadn’t come up yet.

“We’re goblins,” said Gelp.

“I…”

“This place looks like it’s been abandoned,” said the lady goblin, taking charge before her erstwhile siblings derailed another conversation with stooge-like efficiency.

“So we’re really late,” asked the first goblin.

“No,” she repeated.

“But… I’m confused.”

“No you’re Otis.”

“Outis.”

“Hmmm?” asked Gelp. “My name is Gelp. You’re Outis.”

“I know my own name.” Outis said.

“So why did you call me—”

“Would the two of you please, for the love of Fleeg, be quiet? You two dimwits will wake the dead.” The lady goblin (whose name was Giqhoqha so we can avoid the confusion of Gelp and Outis) left her two brothers to argue at the empty reception desk while she had a look around. Indeed the place was dead, dead as the bones of the creature they’d found to make the roof. How could such a place of promise fall into such disrepair so quickly? It was a tragedy to be sure. Well, not a tragedy in the Black Bard sense where everyone dies gruesomely at the hands of their lovers. Though maybe that’s what happened. Having heard so many stories about Fleeg, anything was possible in Giqhoqha’s mind. The place smelled like mushrooms though, mushrooms that had gone unchecked and now verily could be walking upright on legs of their own.

The place was deathly quiet, aside from the arguing of her two brothers. She returned after a very quick look about the place.

“Alright, looks abandoned. Might be some fungus folk about but they shouldn’t be too difficult to handle. You know what that means?”

“That we’re really, really early,” said Gelp.

Giqhoqha’s shoulders deflated and she rubbed her temples gingerly as a headache began to form. “No. It means that this place is ours now. We’re the newest owners of the Uhhhhhh Spa.”

“So, really you could say we’re late,” offered Outis.

Giqhoqha wanted to scream.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Post Reply