The Source of All Goodness and Light is Being
by Sir Egil Njalsson
(March 1996)

"My fellow goblins, me come to all of you now with great news of many goodnesses. Now are coming to our midst many little ones who are being like us, but not like us. But these are being goodness much much. These are being many smart: many many smartnesses. These are leading us to great victory over all that is badness and yuckiness.

"We are all knowing the many troubles happen since troglodytes move into caves and tunnels where we are living. We are trying to be living nice-nice, but they are all smelling very bad, very very badness. Trogs are being worse than walking past potty-pit on warm day. Now cannot goblins live in peacefulness and nice happinesses. We must to be doing something, but nothing we are trying are working. Always are strong badness of smells coming from where trogs are coming more and more. Always are goblins holding their noses and many times forgetting to breathe, so are falling over and hurting chin on cave floor. All hunter goblins are now having several owie-hurts on chin chin, and kissing-making-boo-boo-better are not working too good nice.

"You know we try make trogs go bye-bye leave, but is no good. Trogs are staying and are blowing bad smell at us and making us sickingness and hurtingness. Never is trogs sucking bad smell back at them, but always are blowing or waving it us at us bad. Often is many trogs joining together and making smell bad even stronger than before bad. Is many times sending hunters home with no food for families tribe. No can we get close even to try to hurt trogs to make them go leave away. Cannot we get close because bad smell is so bad yuckiness. Never is goblins thinking of way to make trogs go.

"But now is coming new group of creatures friendlinesses here from other place not-here. Is somewhere else. But now is coming here stay live with us with goblins. Is being smart head-smart nice good for us. Is thinking and is making ideas in head not-hurt. Is being small, furry, friendly creatures not-us. Is calling themselves, "The Goblin Advisors."

 

This having been said, Ritch-Chak, leader of the goblin Tribe Of The Not Getting Lost In Tunnels, stepped off the pile of earthen debris in the Tunnel Of Meetings And Talking To Yourselfs and allowed the four small creatures to clamber up in their short, waddling way from the point just behind it where they had been patiently waiting. These new creatures were about a foot tall, their yellow skin covered with long gray fur everywhere except on their hands and their long pointed snouts. The four stood atop the debris, looking at the goblins, then at each other, at the walls, at the debris, and off into various points in the air that evidently held some strange fascination for them which, alas, no-one else was able to share.

one of the Goblin AdvisorsThis preliminary round of important-seeming relative inactivity having been concluded, one of the Advisors spoke. "O Great Clan..."

The goblins looked at one another with great consternation. Various whispers erupted: "Is clan being?" "Where is clan we not seeing it?" "Is trogs maybe? Is them here now and we not smelling?" "Oh dearness..."

Noting their distress, one of the Advisors nudged the speaker. He amended his speech: "O Great Tribe..."

A sigh swept through the crowd, and all attention was once again focused on the speaker.

"O Great Tribe Of The Not Getting Lost, we have come here with a special purpose..."

Murmurs sprang up once again.

"Umm, 'In Tunnels' is being not lost in," suggested a nervous Ritch-Chak.

"O Great Tribe Of The Not Getting Lost In Tunnels," came the renewed greeting. An audible sigh of relief swept through the crowd. At last they knew who he was talking to: it was them. "We bring you great help in fighting against the trogs," the Head Advisor continued. This created quite an impact on the goblins, who crowded closer to hear what these new creatures had in mind.

The Head Advisor outlined the plan: "We have been exploring the tunnel system near where the troglodytes live, and have found a large cavern where many tunnels meet. Surely you remember it yourselves, from the days when your tribal hunters used to explore that section of passageways to find food."

"Me remember too!" whispered one of the hunters to his neighbor, wondering who Shirley was.

"This cavern," continued the Head Advisor, "will be the starting point for our attack. We will all gather in the cavern, then spread through all the tunnels at the same time, making loud noises. The trogs hate loud noises, and will be forced to run from you until eventually they all leave the tunnels! Does this not sound good?"

The goblins were overjoyed, and began to jump up and down, waving their hands in the air and cheering. Several of them accidentally hit the goblin next to them, or hurt themselves, and had to stop.

Once they had settled down a bit, the Advisor continued. "We will need the whole tribe for this, not just the hunters. Since we will be attacking with noise, even the babies can help. Now, go and gather everyone, and meet back here."

 

At once, the goblins ran back to the tunnels which housed their families, and told them the good news. With an air of growing excitement, the entire goblin population poured into the Tunnel Of Meetings And Talking To Yourselfs, babbling energetically. At a signal from the Head Advisor, they began the journey to what they remembered as the Cavern Of Confusing Others But Not Us Because We Is Not Getting Lost In Tunnels.

The trip only took about fifteen minutes, and soon the almost-wetting-themselves-in-excitement goblins stood poised on the edge of attack. A sense of tremendous anticipation, accompanied by just the slightest touch of nervousness, kept the crowd alert and invigorated. At a signal from the Head Advisor, they all began to shout, bang on rocks, scream, make body noises, and generally do whatever they could to produce a sound. At a second signal, they swept toward the tunnel entrances, planning to surround the trogs and once and for all flush them from the ancestral home of the goblins.

Unfortunately, this is where they ran into difficulty. At each tunnel entrance they neared, they noticed troglodytes waiting for them, about twenty feet down the passageway. Trogs were everywhere -- even in the tunnel the goblins had just come from. Worried but still enthusiastic, the goblins redoubled their noise level, but were drowned out by the shouts and laughter coming from the trogs, which were slowly advancing from every direction.

The troglodytes advanced, shouting, laughing, and waving large fans they had brought with them. The stench of troglodyte filled the cavern, and was getting stronger every moment as the trogs crept forward and fanned their odor at the huddled goblins. Panicked, the goblins climbed over each other in their attempts to get away, though most of them were clawing at each other with only one hand since the other was being used to pinch their noses shut. However, the direction all of them were going was the exact center of the cavern, since that was the farthest point from the trogs. As they fought each other to reach that point, the tribe became more and more compact.

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