“Gypsy Jess,
you are simply the best,” declared Ilirium. “I speak from the heart and do not
jest.”
“Thank you
my little one. Yer heart be blessed. But best ye get dressed so that I can
introduce ye to the rest.”
“Before we
go, there is something I must address. I really don’t feel comfortable wearing
a dress.”
“Oh, now
that’s a pity. I really think ye look so pretty. But let me look and see if I
mights be able to find ye a tunic and tights.”
Jess
searched through a large wooden chest
And pulled out
some tights, a tunic and vest
“Put them
on, it’s time to eat. And don’t be alarmed by the people ye’ll meet.”
“Why might I
be alarmed? I don’t wish to meet them if I’ll be harmed.”
“What I mean
is don’t ye fright. Some of them don’t be a pretty sight.”
And Gypsy
Jess was absolutely right
There was
the flirtatious and foxy Abigail
With the batting
eyes and vixen’s tail
The large
breasted and muscle bound hermaphrodite
Who went by
the name of Shear de Lite
Paul, the
extremely tall vociferous Gaul
Aba Azure
The one eyed
Moor
Albert von
Stanick
The Germanic
manic
But all in
all they were a hearty group
And there
was joy and laughter as they continued to scoop
From the
large cauldron with the wild mushroom soup
All except for
Malcolm Horn
The miserable
midget who eyed him with scorn
Ilirium
mentioned it to Jess later that night
“Don’t worry
about him,” she said. “He’s just uptight. Now come sit with me and see what
might befall. Let’s see our future in my crystal ball.”
Jess looked
into the ball and struggled for breath
“Oh my
little one, I’ve just seen your death!”
“When? Tell
me, I pray!”
“I don’t
understand. It happened yesterday!”
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