The astounded messenger turned and ran as fast as he could and disappeared deep into the Old Forage.
Tom's spirits hit the floor. “That's the final insult, Dairy Daughter,” he fumed. “There's nothing left here for us. I will not put up a fight. We may as well start packing. My one hope is that this embarrassing event won't be chronicled in any of the history books of Piddle Earth, for I still retain some pride.”
Nutsenberries addressed the Master, trying to comfort him. “Don't worry, Tom Cholesteroleo. I have a feeling that even in a spoof we would be edited from the narrative.”
* In times long ago forgotten by everyone except Tom Cholesteroleo, The Old Forage was the recepticle for all discarded magical items and the waste from their making. Little was known of the dangerous effects from the residual mana either stored in the items or subtly changed in the discarded materials of manufacturing process.
Not until Tom had noticed changes in the look and demeanor of his dairy herds that drank from nearby streams and grazed the adjoining fields did anyone pay heed to rumors of deformed creatures and odd tasting dairy products. Of course, once discovered, it was too late. Men had rummaged through the waste for centuries. The cruel by-product of their folly resulted not only in the more benign evolution of beings called Stubbies but also included many more frightening creatures soon to be revealed.
Tom Cholesteroleo was quick to react and closed up the magic dumping ground and encouraged the recycling and recharging of all magical items. All manufacturing waste was directed to the dregs of Murmur where it was whispered that no one lived.
The Old Forage remained and out of it grew a great magical forest that still housed Tom’s dairy and spawned many new fantastic but annoying creatures.
Copyright 2002, 2012 John Keefe