We Write Some Unrelated Junk And Generally Mess Around For A While


The Grand High Elf stepped down from the magic dias. The situation was grave. It was time for them to choose a new Grand Warrior. The Elves lived in the magical forests of the land they called Lorm, and the Elves basically looked the same as humans expect they were generally a few inches taller, and they had long, pointed ears. They also had different coloured skin, the Grand High Elf, for instance, had dark purple skin, and the four elves in front of him, the warrior elves, waiting to be chosen for the Excellent Prize of the Grand Warrior.

The first Elf, Nelethor, was a swordsman and bright orange.

The second Elf, Ictarius, was a pikeman, who carried his pike, his trout and his carp with him everywhere (He also had an actual pike for stabbing people and just to look important). He was a light blue colour.

The third Elf, K’Korll, had a slight stutter, and was also an axeman (or as he called it, an ac-ac-ac-ac-axeman). K’Korll was deep purple, like the Grand High Elf.

The fourth Elf was an archer called Tim. He had green skin and was the laughing stock of his peers. Tim had, as previously mentioned, green skin, and black hair. His hair was about shoulder length and black.

The Grand High Elf had been talking with the Elf Council of Elders for three days and three nights and four pepporoni pizzas and six crates of Pepsi. Pepsi was around back then, as the Elves invented it. The company Pepsi simply stole their recipe and let it sit in the sun for a while. This distinguished it from Coke, which was invented by the goblins. As the Grand High Elf stepped down from the magic dias, the other elves at the bottom of the tree fell silent. The old Grand Warrior, Krallan, was dead, and it was time for the first time in a century (or at least a while) that a new Grand Warrior had to be chosen.

“I know it is customary for the new Grand Warrior to be good at fighting and have noble blood as well as weapons. This time we’ve selected one with none of those features. Or maybe we have! I’ve just trying to keep you all interested. It’s the first time that I’ve been able to talk without restraint for a hundred years! Cut me some slack here people!”

The people did indeed cut him some slack, as slack was a local flower with cake mixture as nectar. They resumed their seats and watched with mild interest, even though the International Society of Scantily-Clad Elf-Women were having their bi-yearly stocktake sale barely three ibbles away (Elves used ibbles, cabbits and gyrfles. There are three ibbles to a cabbit, and the number of cabbits to a gyrfle depends on the time of the week, the weight of the Elf, how many muffins they had consumed for breakfast, what flavour the muffins were, whether they had chocolate chips or not and indeed, the temperature of the toilet bowl into which they had been passed. This is why most Elves simply used kilometres. Some of the older and stupider ones still used miles, and some of the even older and stupider ones still used gyrfles. Eventually, they gave up and just stole things).

“Our four warriors, who shall form a band, will play covers of any number of Beatles, Led Zeppilin and Simon and Garfunkel hits, occasionally at the same time. They shall also defend the Elf kingdom of Lorm from attacks from goblins, demons, orcs and solicitors. One of the four shall be the leader, and he will also win a million million  penguins, (the currency of Lorm was the penguin, no relation to the small Antarctic animal but instead a stone coin six feet by four feet with razor-shape pointed edges. They weighed four tonnes each. This is why most Elves use credit cards, no relation to the Arctic animal either. This is also why Elvish banks require mithril gloves as part of the required uniform. Despite this, an Elf would require four hundred thousand or so penguins to equal a farthing) a new cart, one-hundred and twenty thousand penguins worth of popcorn, and a solid gold boat. The Elves who are in the running to become the leader and therefore the new Grand Warrior are:

“Nelethor, son of Relethor, Ictarius, son of Rictarius, K’Korll, son of Puh, and Tim the Elf of unknown parentage though we suspect it to be a goat and another goat.”

To this, there was a pregnant pause. The baby pause was born, the champagne popped and then another pregnant pause. This pregnant pause was only married the other night, so there was still quite a while before the silence would be broken.

“Nonetheless,” said the Grand High Elf, “We shall now announce the next Grand Warrior.”

There was a drum roll, a saxophone sandwich, and a guitar hamburger.

“The Next Great Australian Novel…uhm, I mean the next Grand Warrior (the Grand High Elf had the gift of seeing into the future, though not very well, as he never managed to predict the correct Powerball numbers.) is…”

There was a pause. Nelethor looked worried. Ictarius looked concerned. K’Korll looked hopeful. Tim looked carefully. The International Society of Scantily-Clad Elf-Women looked attractive.

“…is…” said the Grand High Elf through bated breath. “…is…” His breath caught a fish. “…is…Tim the Elf!”

There was a long silence, then the Elves started cheering like the Australian public during one of the Prime Minister’s speeches. (Coincidentally, still going on. He was now up to ‘Rugose – Wrinkled, corrugated’. To this, there was gigantic applause, and everybody voted him back into power, even though the elections were over and the opposition leader didn’t exist.) The other Elf Warriors looked stressed, then shocked, then angry, then all three at once, then they tried out combinations of two, then they understood. Tim’s father must have been Krallan! It wasn’t, but at least it got him the respect of his band. Perhaps now they would let him play lead guitar, and would stop trying to pair him up with Yoko Ono’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, who was, at this point, a very young elf who worked for the International Society of Scantily-Clad Elf-Women. Why he wanted them to stop trying to pair them up nobody had yet worked out, but it might have had something to do with the fact that she was hideously ugly, and the society’s manager.

The troop of Elves, led by Tim, headed out into the forests of Lorm and trooped off to adventure, most likely to somehow connect up with Jack, Bruce, Bruce and Sheila, and possibly their turtle.