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Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Fartmoodles: Chapter 5

How to Capture a Fartmoodle
Chapter 5:  Let it go
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by: Nellie Tobey


The villiage saw them off after morning meals.  A wagon holding Steve and Tooty, was being led by her father in the full royal combat uniform. The soldiers guarded and pulled it into the thick tall grass. It was the first time someone had left the village for foriegn territory in a century.
    Some villagers cheered, some stood in solemn silence, some saluted, and a lot of the younger ones watched in awe.  Uncle FunkUnder took up the rear on a white faced rodent. Once the queen was done informing him of the dire circumstances that would befall him if Tooty were not returned by the Gremlins, he had decided the portal was, after all, closer to home, and he could just head back to is village after the parade was complete. 
  It was a short time, and they reached the old tree.  A tunnel of ferns formed under the ancient tree's shady reach.
  Inside three portals made of various stacks of mossy rocks stood a little taller then a large rabbit. Despite everything else being quite dry from lack of rain,  the arching stacks of stone glistened with abundant dewy droplets. 
  The newest portal was recently erected by the HammeredByMorning Gremlins earlier that week.  A small greeting party of thin big bellied green and black speckled toads stood watch at that portal.

  Tooty leaned over the wagon to get her father's attention.  "Are those gremlins?"  She pointed at the large toads.
  Her father sniffled a bit.  "I've always had an allergy to the bastards."  Then he wiped a tear from his cheek and pointed.  "Watch Tooty."
  Steve and Tooty both watched the toads stand bi-pedal on their floppy feet, and transform.  It wasn't much of a stretch for the gremlins disguise themselves as toads. Other than the cloths, smaller feet, and a bit less amphibious face; the two forms were not very dissimilar.
   The lead Gremlin, who was named ImNotDizzy, was holding a stick spear with a sharp metal point, and a leather stripped grip. On it's shaft hung the colors of their rank. Wrapped there was a paisley pink and brown piece of silk with glass clear beads dangling from it's edges.  The Gremlin stepped up to the Grand Master and stomped it's left foot. "Your escort is here to see you safely through the portal and pass the goblin market." The Gremlin nodded at Tooty and Steve climbing from the wagon.  "We will guide you to our city in the great forests of the peninsula."
   Tooty's Father saluted. "I am the Grand Master of Obnoxious Odors."  He extended a hand that was holding a bag of Romanian Rye seeds.  "I offer this gift for the passage to your lands of my most precious daughter, "  he paused pulled a small cloth from a pocket with his free hand and blew his nose. "Miss Tooty of the Cheese Cutter clan."
   She stood next to her father presenting herself and the now tattered scroll.  A second, somewhat less speckled Gremlin walked up and took the scroll.
   Steve was unloading a few bags and was trying not to be completely panic stricken.
   The lead Gremlin took the bag of seeds, and the handkerchief from the Grand Master.  He shoved both into a skirt pocket.  "We accept your most generous gift."
   As Steve slowly joined,  Uncle FunkUnder glided up next to Tooty on the anxious opossum.  "My dear I want you to take this with you."  He dismounted and began to take off his coat of many pockets.
  Tooty gasped.  A garment of that quality was passed down for generations, and usually only once the owner had passed.  "I can't take that uncle!"
  FunkUnder shooshed her and talked quietly in her ears as he placed the coat on her.  "If you come across a bottle of Gremlin Brew #66 just tuck it in the deepest pocket."  He looked over to see if any of the Welshi had heard.  A little quieter he said. "It's the third pocket, inside, on your left.  Deepest one, that.  You can fit a case in there and not ever feel a bottle clink."  Tooty smiled and grabbed what might be her last hug.
  "You'll be getting this back."  She ran her hands down it's smooth brown texture.  Someone had embroidered tiny blue flowers on the cuffs and hem.
  Her uncle mounted his opossum and gave a salute. "I'm counting on it."
  He turned and road away without looking back.
  Steve now stood ready.  A bag in each hand.  One held a bevy of supplies, some empty papers and writing utensils, Tooty's weapon, spices, glass test tubes, some fresh Capsicum annuum <great for inducing human thirst> and quite a few bags of tea to trade in the goblin market.
  The other bag was a few tunics, and the rest of Tooty's personal belongings.
  Steve set the bags down  and presented himself.  A Gremlin with a bright red pair of eyes approached and took the bags.  It carried them over to a basket and placed them in roughly.
  Steve knelt before Tooty's father. "I will do all I can to bring her home in fine condition."
  The king stopped sniffling and putting a tremendous pair of arms around Steve and said,   "One single hint of a bruise, or scratch on her, I will personally present you as stew to Hummer Garflat."  
  Tooty pinched her father's ear.  He released Steve and then embraced her a little more gently.  Tooty heard him holding back a sob in her hair.  She patted him in between his wings.  "I will bring you back such honor father that the clan will write stories about us."  
   Her father let go and saluted. "You already have." And with a sharp turn he wheeled away and didn't look back.  The rest of his ranks, stood tall, nodded at Tooty, and followed the Grand Master's example.  
  It was time to for her and Steve to go with the Welshian Gremlins.
  The bright red garbed Gremlin stepped up to Tooty and did an awkward bow. "I will be your guide, and liaison for your stay with us,"   beckoning Tooty and Steve to follow.  When Steve presented himself next to Tooty to enter the gate, it growled up toward him.  "We do not allow your kind to proceed before our...."  The liaison looked through a book full of words written in Gremlin, "feminine."

  Steve took stepped out of the way, and watched the majority of the larger, more sturdy looking Gremlins to go through.  What he assumed to be a soldier approached and tapped him gingerly on the shoulder.
  "You can call me the BrewMinister.  We can follow in a few moments."  
  It smoothed out it's skirt and reached into a pocket, producing a rather strange looking plant.  The few left gathered around and all started taking a small piece from it's spiky foliage.  BrewMinister offered Steve a small piece too.  
  He took it, nodded, saying, "I'm Steve."  And shoved the plant piece in his mouth like the others had.
  One Welshi garbed in a pair of really loose capri's, stepped in close. Steve being a couple inches taller, could see a large bald patch atop the bluish head, surrounded in long flowing copper ringlets.  The gremlin smiled up at Steve as it chewed on the plant.   
  The little group was watching Steve tentatively.  They all seemed to stop at the same time when the ginger and blue gremlin  swallowed the plant and took a copper dagger from a pocket.  "You ever play kiss the frog Steve?"

*** It wasn't just customary for the masculine ones to stay behind and let the leaders go ahead to scout, it was also customary, since discovering the delicious plant,  for those in the back of the pack to sew it's seeds whenever they found suitable soil.  A rather wrinkly grey gremlin was clawing into the dirt around the portal and shoving the seeds elbow deep into the ground.  
   This gremlin had made a bet that this Steve character would be inclined to actually kiss the frog, but watching the fear ooze from that pixies face... He was pretty sure he should have laid a much larger bet. *** 


                                 *************************************


  Tooty was enamored by the wildlife sprinting about as they exited the portal.  Wildlife tended to avoid the Fartmoodles on their stretch of territory.

***On the whole continent actually, but the Fartmoodle Pixies never really considered this as an oddity.  Animals could sense the presence of a Fartmoodle from a great distance.  Next time you see someone scolding their dog for barking at nothing, be prepared for a not so gentle breeze***

   The gremlins were silent as they marched forward.  Occasionally Tooty could see them exchanging a complicated hand gesture, and hear a snicker, or giggle from the gremlins trailing the small party.  
   Tooty was happy enough to take in the excitement of seeing so many new things.  A bird bigger then the tree stump flew close overhead and screeched a beautiful song. She watched it as much as she could until the forest canopy obscured it from sight.  
  The Welshians in the back suddenly burst into laughter and Tooty was snapped out of her daydreaming.  The lead Gremlin stopped the procession and placing long knotty fists on the hips, pointed at one of the smaller gremlins, now in the shape of a black mouse.  "You! Habringer, come up here and ask our guest that question." 
  The mouse approached, it's whiskers twitching in a rather serious way.  The sweet voice came out in a somber tone.  "Is it true... Miss Tooty, "   It looked at the leader, and decided to finish. "is it true that a Fartmoodle Pixie has magic that can make a grown horse run away from it's own tail?"
  The leader held back a grin.  It took great effort to look away from the mouse then to Tooty.  They all,  gremlins, but also a mouse, a large blue lizard, and a sparrow watched Tooty apprehensively waiting for an answer.  "Only our best can manage such a feet, but yes."
  They all started giggling and handing back and forth to each other what seemed like tiny velvet bags that jingled.  

  *** Gremlins liked betting about as much as they liked the sound of a freshly pulled cork from a bottle of fine wine. ***

  The leader handed Tooty a small bag also.  "My bet was that you'd be angry when they asked."  The gremlin smiled. "I am pleased I was wrong." 
  Tooty smiled and as they made their way through the denser tree's, the gremlins transformed from one critter to another, hopping and jumping around her to ask questions.
  "Do they really go up close when it happens?"
  "Is it like a sport?"
  "Can we do it?"
  They approached a thick tangle of thorny bramble stretching a great length to their left and right.  The Leader quieted them all and poked a spear into the green tangle.  The leader had now taken on the form of a weasel with silver fur.  The weasel twisted and turned the spear, poking and prodding.  A loud Click, and the vine like plant started to retract to reveal a wooden door large enough for a prize pig to fit through.  
  The weasel motioned to the opening door, "Welcome to the goblin market honored guest!"  
   All the gremlins had transformed into weasels. One might have been a small ferret.  Tooty was really wishing Steve wasn't so far behind.

                                 ***********************************
  They had finally crossed through the portal and began to make a zig-zagging pattern to their destination.
  Steve had not in fact kissed the frog.   Or been defeated in the ritual game of riddles.   He felt he might have gained a bit of respect from the Gremlins after he pulled out the bottle of Goblin Punch the queen had snuck to him before they left.
She cornered him in a hall, handed him the bottle saying, "If the Gremlins start giving you too much grief about what the length of a frog's tongue really is.... Just pull this out of your pocket and start pouring."   
   She walked away as quickly as she had come, and left Steve standing dumbstruck. He was ever so grateful now.  The grey gremlin had transformed into a raccoon and was steadily answering Steve's questions as the rest led the way. 
   "So you don't have females and males?"  
   The raccoons face kind of squinted and answered. "Well we do, kind of, but mostly it's just kind of rude to make assumptions without knowing someone."
   Steve wrote a note.  He knew Tooty would pick up the nuances quick enough, but he was not going to leave without establishing a textual guide to life among Welshian Gremlins of the America's. He flipped a few pages, and his wings were batting excitedly.  "Unless they have the skirts on?"
  The raccoon sniffed, and pointed at the other wrinkly grey gremlin near the front of the pack.   "A skirt is a choice too.  But you won't find many of us older males without one."
   Steve referred back to a note the older gremlin had given him earlier.
   "Oh... OH...."
   *** The note:
         Welshian males of the older persuasion all wore a nice loose skirt.
         This is mainly a community service
         At a certain age gremlins became quite wrinkly and itchy.
         Long ago it was discovered a skirt kept them in much comfort.
         A special counsel agreed that it had a positive result.
         The saying goes, 'an old Welshi that has to wear pants is a grumpy gremlin'
         And everyone's life was made better when agremlin is not enraged by a              flaming rash in their undercroft.
  ***

  The raccoon sniffed about the air pensively then relaxed again.  
  Steve hesitated, but asked anyways.  "What about the females?"
  The raccoon sniffed the air again, and there was a palpable tension among all the gremlins.  They all shifted into larger rodents.
  "Well FlutterBait, "  the nick name had been chosen for Steve during the game of kiss the frog. "They usually turn into weasels or ferrets when they are grumpy, and no amount of skirt will keep you safe."
   
   


  
   

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