Fred pointed out the elderly elf banging his head to the bartender. "Should he be doing that?" he asked the tall woman.
"Don't bother Jonesy." she replied in a thick, foreign accent. "His head's as hard as a rock. Table'll split soon, he'll give me the cost then go home to his twelve kids." "Oh." said Fred and ordered a pint of the bitter. He sat at one of the three stools on the bar and sipped at his drink. What was he going to do now? The town's library was closed, he'd seen so on his way to the bar. Oh well. If there isn't night-time lodgings available, he'd go sleep in the woods. He'd done it before. "What's the problem?" said the lady. "How do you know I have a problem?" "Come on. I'm a bartender." "Oh. Problem is...I'm lost." Keep it simple, Fred thought. You are lost, but there's no reason to let on any more. "You mean, you don't even know what town it is?" whispered the woman. "Exactly." "Oh." She wiped a spot off with her sleeve and opened her mouth to speak.
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12/7/1999 10:31:16 AM
Extending Enabled
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