How to Capture a Fartmoodle
Chapter 3
"It has nothing to do with fresh air"
Edit 1
by: Nellie Tobey
Garflat's foot alone was twice the length of Steve, and Tooty just stood, fearless, waiting for instruction. She was intrigued, and curious, and in awe of how large the Troll was. "Should we just... Introduce ourselves?"
Steve gulped, flittered his wings, and did nothing.
Tooty had never seen her professor so frightened. In fact Tooty couldn't think of a single time he seemed at all scared of anything. Another great "Ohhh!" and a few sniffles came from the giant mass in front of them. Garflat pulled a giant lace doily from his massive pockets, and no longer crying, started to pick the strawberries gently from their stems and placing them in it.
*** For those curious, I had to google (the lace things grandma's make) to figure out how doily is spelled. ***
Steve still couldn't move, other then the frantic little shivers in his wings.
Tooty though, was ready to say hello. She rose into the air, and glided over to Garflat where he could see her. He seemed very skilled at plucking the tiny fruit without even so much as a bruise to it's bright red skin. "Would you like some help sir?"
Garflat stared at Tooty for a moment, seemed a bit miffed, but then gestured down to the remaining strawberries with a slow wave of his free hand. Tooty picked up one of the smaller ones and started to gnaw at it's stem. Garflat lay the doily down by her side.
Steve had finally snapped out of it and with a tiny tremble in his voice made introductions. "Your graciousness Mister Hummer Garflat, we are from the Fartmoodle clan of your most southern border, and are seeking assistance."
Garflat wiped an escaped tear from the side of his cheek. "What is it you need my little horribly smelly friends?"
Tooty contemplated just how much her education meant to Steve. He was really really scared. It was an admirable amount of dedication. The next strawberry was a big one. But Pixies were a lot like ants. A matter of the proper weight distribution, and a little gravity defiance did a great deal of work for you.
Steve continued. Growing a bit more confident in his plan, since Hummer Garflat had not, as a lot of the tiny folk myths said, gobbled them in one giant chomp. "My student is lacking the ability to participate in many of our traditions, and I'm wondering,"
Garflat was nodding in approval of Tooty's gentle handling of his batch. "You two would make a fabulous stew."
Steve felt his instincts firing away, telling him to grab her and pop away.
Tooty, unfazed, lay the last berry into the doily, and in Steve's opinion, completely lost her mind. "No, no no... You can't mix the strawberries with a meat, it would make it taste rotten!"
Garflat seemed astonished, and smiled. "Well no, not with the strawberries of course. Those are feed for my sick rabbit out back. I was thinking a big dose of Coriander and some radishes."
Tooty made a pleading motion, "Coriander! I've never had that, and radishes? What a brilliant combination!"
Garflat was quietly reminded of another Pixie that had visited him a long time ago, but that pixie was more interested in how humans tasted food, and not at all with how it tastes in the first place. "I have some in my hut, I could make a smaller stew with your boyfriend here and we could discuss the many uses of radishes."
Steve froze, and just waited for the world to turn rightside up again. Boyfriend had not even registered.
Tooty pretended she was contemplating it.
*** Although cannibalism was forbidden among almost all peoples of the region, She was honestly curious what such a stew would taste like, but preferably not with Steve in it. ***
" I really do like my teacher sir. Maybe we could find an alternative to Pixie flesh.... Maybe...." Tooty spotted a well shaded and excellently constructed mushroom shed by the troll's hut. "You don't happen to have Shiitakes in there do you?"
Garflat folded up the strawberries, staining the doily red just by their presence, and gave her a proud nod. "They are terribly hard to keep fertilized, what with the lack of naturally decomposing humans to be found in this area."
Tooty put a hand over her heart, for a Fartmoodle, that was in the lower abdomen, and flew up to Garflat's shoulder as he stood. "Have you ever tried seasoning them, and frying them until they are crisp in lard?"
"Well no I haven't, does that help with that terrible texture?"
"Oh yes, and it brings out ....."
It took Steve quite a few minutes before he could move himself to follow them.
When Garflat opened the shed door, it made Steve think of the times as a child his father had taken him on lesson's to the autopsy lab. It was beautiful. And enough to make him forget Tooty had been ready to discuss him being a component of troll stew. Surely she was being diplomatic.
Garflat walked around to his slightly ajar front door. "Welcome to my home Pixies, do come in and sit with me."
Steve accepted, "Why thank you, don't mind if we do." His student was already headed in.
They gathered in the kitchen. Garflat pulling out a cutting board and some root vegetables, Tooty and Steve standing on the table where he placed it.
Steve took his cue from Tooty and tried to initiate conversation again."You have a really great home Mr. Garflat! I'm curious do trolls always live so isolated?" Hummer grabbed a few glass jars of dried plants, sealed lovingly with a large cork, cloth and twine.
"Naturally." Garflat set the jars on the table behind his cutting board. "Do you lot tend to gather all together then?"
Tooty jumped in now. "We have very mobile villiages, but yes we tend to stay together to ward off any wondering predators. I hear we are a delicacy to some, especially the WearWolves of HunberBridge."
Steve was taken aback by Tooty so blatantly lying. He was learning quickly that Tooty was very skilled at dealing with the outside world creatures. A skill her mother was also renowned for. Tooty and Garflat lept into more conversation about ingredients and proper cooking temperatures.
Tooty and Garflat prepared the ingredients for the stew, Tooty crushing the peppercorns, and Garflat chopping the radishes.
Hummer Garflat had offered them a tiny bottle of Gremlin punch that he had been gifted a long time ago.
*** Gremlins and trolls, although not allies, did get along famously. Being that trolls had very little alcohol tolerance, and Gremlins tasted foul to trolls when they've had too much to drink***
Tooty had poured Steve a thimble, but was too busy working with Garflat to make her own. On his second serving, Steve was now a talking tornado of ideas. He rambled on about his plan. " She seems to have a great gift for persuasion in these humans, and I'm wondering if there is a place they gather, that we Fartmoodles don't have documented, to which we could find a way for her to use that in the interest of our peoples." And then he hiccuped.
*** Hiccuping was known to be a bad omen among Pixies. A great wise Grand Marshall of Breaking Wind had once predicted the downfall of sauerkraut in traditional dishes once. He hiccuped, cut cheese, and sneezed in the exact same moment afterwards, and fell over dead. The stores did stop carrying sauerkraut on a regular basis, it was a tragedy.***
Garflat added something that might be chicken stock to a large cauldron sitting over hot coals in his fireplace. Might be rabbit stock too, but meat was meat, and it wasn't Steve.
"Let's have dinner as a gesture of good faith between our two species, and I will think on how I might help."
Tooty was busy sniffing the dried coriander sitting next to her finely crushed pepper. "Oh it does smell fantastic, does it have the same aroma in the mouth?"
The troll interpreting what she meant, gestured to the herb, "Try it, it does lose a bit of that bite when it's stewed, but otherwise, the taste is very definite."
Steve had heard that word before. "Garflat, excuse me, but what is that word?"
The troll, still contemplating if such a stringy pixie would be better smoked with or without an infusion of teriyaki, considered Steve's question. He tried to remember what that last Pixie so many years had told him.
"Taste, the aroma of the tongue, the meaning of life, the reason for the season, the thing that hunger can destroy, or enhance, or make grown troll's weep."
Steve furrowed his brow. He did not like it when he could not understand. "Aroma? You mean you can smell with your mouth?" The effect of the Gremlin punch started to fade.
The troll and Tooty exchanged a growing bewildered expression. "Yes, it's really not a big deal. Do you mean you can't?"
*** I might have changed the plan. Her excellent ability to taste things is going to play a role in this story ***
Steve was dumbstruck. All this time.... How had no one figured it out? "This 'taste' is what you do all the time with food Tooty?" Tooty finally had someone that understood, the Troll that is, Steve does not have capable taste-buds.
"Yes, like all you others and your smelling things, I like to experience with my mouth." This struck the troll as funny. He tossed some rhubarb into the pot, giggling.
Steve paced, and thought. He was silent for a nice length of time while Tooty and Garflat discussed the many ways to use carrots, without actually having to taste them. "Even boiling doesn't work, unless you put a large amount of sugar and salt into the water." Tooty explained.
Garflat did seem impressed. "Stew is about done, I don't know if I have anything small enough to serve such petite guests with...."
Tooty inched her way closer to Steve. He was still deep in thought. He noticed Tooty watching the troll rummaging through a cupboard as she approached. "I think I know what we can do!"
Tooty raised a slow hand to her lips to gesture him to be quiet.
She looped her arm into his and whispered in his ear.
"He's not looking for dishes."
Steve raised a long hairy eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"We discussed stew quite a bit while you were over here making decisions."
Steve felt that same fear rushing into him like it had when her first saw the troll.
Tooty tightened her arm into his. "Stew is not stew without some heavy solid protein."
"and?" Steve had no clue what all this food talk meant.
"Mushrooms are protein. He said it was almost done.... We never even picked the mushrooms."
Trolls can move rapidly when food is at stake, but luckily Steve's instincts were quicker.
A fizzle, pop, and this time much more magical smoke then was necessary was left in their spot on the table. Along with a very sharp cleaver, and seconds later, a sobbing troll named Hummer Garflat.
***And the distinct smell of defeat, but that might be the magical smoke. They smelled very similar.***
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