Fred approached the bridge hoping that on the other side of said bridge
would be the scepter of St. Valentine. The air was misty, smokey, and
musty, and the magical mask did not filter all the awful rottenness out of
the air. Fred wanted to get out and get out quick. Yet even as he put
his first foot on the bridge he knew that that was not to be.
"Who goes there? cough, cough" said a scraggly voice. oh great! thought Fred. "Um, no one," he said, his voice a bit muffled by the mask. "No one?!?" responded the craggy voice. "Oh, well then, never--- Hey, wait a minute!" Fred had already tiptoed three feet across the bridge when a form jumped from under the wooden planks and landed atop the railing. The figure was not what Fred had figured it would be. He was staring at a man, a man who was only three inches high! He wore torn shorts, a ripped shirt, and a fisherman's hat!! "Hey there wise guy, stop right where you are," said the creature. Fred stopped. "You talking to me?" he said through the leatherine mask. "Of course I'm talking to you, you ugly long-faced galoot! Who else would I be talking to?" "Well, um, maybe that little centaur-girl by the path?" The little man seemed upset by Fred's lie, or perhaps it was just excited. Either way, the little man jumped off of the railing, ran past Fred while Fred ran along the bridge. The chamber was so murky, however, that what Fred thought was a short expanse of wood proved to be a lot longer.
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12/15/2002 10:56:36 AM
Extending Enabled
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