While We Wait: Writer's Block & Other Lame Excuses

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We now present The Sad and Most Unfortunate Tale of Stone Thief in order to provide for the entertainment and education of the childe.

The Sad and Most Unfortunate Tale of Stone Thief
Once upon a time there was a young boy from a poor family, who provided for his ailing parents and his baby brother by stealing precious gems. We'll call him Stone Thief. One day Stone Thief went into the mountains looking for gems and wandered upon the most malignant and grotesque troll in ll the land. The troll had no name. The villagers were known to call it by the sound it made, which was a sort of "Kree-zeth" kind of shriek which filled the nightmares of children and great warriors alike. Stone Thief knew he had found Kreezeth's lair when he encountered a large cave filled with arcane and illegible writings, painted on the cave walls with the blood of a lamb. He knew it was lamb's blood because when you have to do something spoopy with blood it's either the blood of a lamb or the blood of a virgin. That's just how it's done.

Anyway, Stone Thief was about to get out of there right quick when Kreezeth awoke. Stirring in the darkest corner of the cave he mumbled nonsense. Stone Thief tiptoed as quietly as possible into the moonlight of the cave's mouth, but Kreezeth had exited his slumber, and lumbered with heavy and loud steps towards Stone Thief who could do nothing but cower.

Kreezeth lowered his enormous hand and grasped Stone Thief between his thumb and forefinger, raising him to face his disgusting, many-eyed face. His breath was foul and his voice, despite the size of his body, was high and shrill. It sounded nothing so much like the whining of a particularly-annoying toddler. "Explain the origins of contemporary English idioms or I'll eat you whole," he cried. "I smell the blood of a Canadian!"

"Mercy," the young Stone Thief begged, "I am a small boy from a village in the valley, and if I don't get precious gem stones my family will starve!"

Kreezeth laughed. It was a high, shrill wheezing. "Silly boy, don't you act as a rational agent within the market? If there are people in your village who can afford to buy precious gem stones from you then those people must have worked to acquire prosperity and social status! If you can't do the same then you're too lazy and unimaginative to be a producer. Stop holding back the self-actualization of other people, communist!"

Stone Thief could see he was going to get nowhere. Kreezeth had studied under the great trolls of the far-off Northern Mountains, whose names were short and terrible. Only the great paladin Kaines could vanquish the horrid Raynd and Myzes.

"I beg of you," Stone Thief implored, "I will explain the origin of but two idiomatic phrases in exchange for my life!"

"Very well," Kreezeth barked. It sounded like a chihuahua.

Stone Thief did his best to sound knowledgeable and erudite, and not the least bit afraid, and began:

"From what I know, 'bite the bullet' was used as a direct reference to how British soldiers(not sure about other nations armies) literally had to bite their cartridges before putting them into their guns in the heat of battle, which would be very unpleasant due to how dry the saltpeter makes your mouth.

From what I know, 'Bite the dust' was used as far back as when Homer was writing the Illiad as a term for death."

"Wrong," cried Kreezeth in his loudest, shrillest and most terrible voice, and ate poor Stone Thief whole.
 
Gem Hound's interpretations of the aforementioned idioms were still ridiculous.
 
I call your story, and raise you a reading.



The Sad and Most Unfortunate Tale of Stone Thief
Once upon a time there was a young boy from a poor family, who provided for his ailing parents and his baby brother by stealing precious gems. We'll call him Stone Thief. One day Stone Thief went into the mountains looking for gems and wandered upon the most malignant and grotesque troll in ll the land. The troll had no name. The villagers were known to call it by the sound it made, which was a sort of "Kree-zeth" kind of shriek which filled the nightmares of children and great warriors alike. Stone Thief knew he had found Kreezeth's lair when he encountered a large cave filled with arcane and illegible writings, painted on the cave walls with the blood of a lamb. He knew it was lamb's blood because when you have to do something spoopy with blood it's either the blood of a lamb or the blood of a virgin. That's just how it's done.

Anyway, Stone Thief was about to get out of there right quick when Kreezeth awoke. Stirring in the darkest corner of the cave he mumbled nonsense. Stone Thief tiptoed as quietly as possible into the moonlight of the cave's mouth, but Kreezeth had exited his slumber, and lumbered with heavy and loud steps towards Stone Thief who could do nothing but cower.

Kreezeth lowered his enormous hand and grasped Stone Thief between his thumb and forefinger, raising him to face his disgusting, many-eyed face. His breath was foul and his voice, despite the size of his body, was high and shrill. It sounded nothing so much like the whining of a particularly-annoying toddler. "Explain the origins of contemporary English idioms or I'll eat you whole," he cried. "I smell the blood of a Canadian!"

"Mercy," the young Stone Thief begged, "I am a small boy from a village in the valley, and if I don't get precious gem stones my family will starve!"

Kreezeth laughed. It was a high, shrill wheezing. "Silly boy, don't you act as a rational agent within the market? If there are people in your village who can afford to buy precious gem stones from you then those people must have worked to acquire prosperity and social status! If you can't do the same then you're too lazy and unimaginative to be a producer. Stop holding back the self-actualization of other people, communist!"

Stone Thief could see he was going to get nowhere. Kreezeth had studied under the great trolls of the far-off Northern Mountains, whose names were short and terrible. Only the great paladin Kaines could vanquish the horrid Raynd and Myzes.

"I beg of you," Stone Thief implored, "I will explain the origin of but two idiomatic phrases in exchange for my life!"

"Very well," Kreezeth barked. It sounded like a chihuahua.

Stone Thief did his best to sound knowledgeable and erudite, and not the least bit afraid, and began:

"From what I know, 'bite the bullet' was used as a direct reference to how British soldiers(not sure about other nations armies) literally had to bite their cartridges before putting them into their guns in the heat of battle, which would be very unpleasant due to how dry the saltpeter makes your mouth.

From what I know, 'Bite the dust' was used as far back as when Homer was writing the Illiad as a term for death."

"Wrong," cried Kreezeth in his loudest, shrillest and most terrible voice, and ate poor Stone Thief whole.
 
Crezth so shexy soulmate4ever.
 
I call your story, and raise you a reading.


That was one of the greatest things my ears have ever had the honor of hearing.
 
Quite obviously. It contains a lead ball which a soldier would hold in his teeth and spit into the barrel once the powder was poured into it.

I think that the term would more likely stem from biting down on the actual bullet during amputations and other such joyful pastimes.
 
That was 3 minutes well spent. :p
 
I had to stop it- not sure why but that was too creepy for me.

Anyway, i think the Stone Thief and Kree-zeth the troll have officially become some sort of lasting legend of the NESing forum- part of our collective identity- whether we like it or not.
 
It wasn't terrible, except for the parts when he forgot to do it.

Thats what I meant. You start to hear the (admittedly very good) fake accent slipping, and the real accent is also really British.
 
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