No siree, Fred was not stupid... but neither was he that
discerning of consequence. Using the pen and ink which he had found
buried next to his right elbow he had copied both spells onto the
parchment which he had just happened to find buried next to his left
foot. Although for the briefest of moments the thought that it was odd
that he found these needed items did cross his mind (in fact the thought
zipped across his wet, soggy mind like a camel in heat) that same thought
did not impress itself upon his brow hard enough for Fred to even
reference it. And so, raising the parchment
with the dragon spell he spoke it aloud to the best of his ability:
snarf crackel bargerbum drac pinto .
Fred should've known better. He should've brought to mind the words of the Grand Dame of Montfort: "Don't you dare use mage-work, you good-for- nothing whippersnapper, it'll come back to bite you in the ars!"
Fred's ars began to itch.
He stood up upon the sand of this strange and unknown sandbar and his ars began to really, really itch. He began to scratch.
He should've known better.
The Never Ending Quest Home
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