“It’s as dark as the inside of a coalminer’s socks in here. We could be
walking into anything.”
“That’s true. Why don’t you go first?”
“At least we’re out of that wretched oubliette. I was worried I might forget
myself and do something drastic.”
“I think that forgetting yourself would be a huge blessing, in your
case.”
“There’s a light ahead. Just down those stairs.”
They clamber down, heading for the chink of light.
“That’s a massive great stone slab there. Can we push it away?”
With a huge effort from Titchy, Gerald, Getrude, Clerihew and Scruff,
and a huge amount of unwanted advice from Elfbow, the great slab of stone
grinds ominously against its mounting, shifts, slips, and they step out into…
“A tomb”.
“At least it’s not ours. And we can see again.”
“Oh!” says a voice, “there you are. I was – er – I’ve been – that is –
where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”
It's Merlissa.
“Woof!” Scruff is not convinced.
“Have you?” asks Titchy. “We could’ve done with your help, you know.”
“Been having trouble with the old crystal ball, haven't I?" says Merlissa, quickly. "It’s probably
time to get a new model. Anyway, we need to get out of here ASAP. If not sooner. You don’t
want to stay here a moment longer than you have to. Here, elf, why don’t you let me help you
with that awkward spear?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“Why so keen to get out of here?” asks Titchy. “Time for a bit of a treasure-search, at least.”
“It’s a tomb. Isn’t that enough of a reason to leave?”
“Tombs can hold burial hoards.”
“And hordes of other things, too. We don’t want to be here when he comes
back.”
“When who comes back?”
“He’s always coming back. He’s a revenant.”
“Who?”
“Me!”
What at first looked like a heap of bones gradually becomes a jingly, boney figure. A
skeletal jester leaps up, cackling, shaking his bells and cracking his knees.
“Nice of you to drop in,” he intones, flexing a protruding elbow. “Welcome
to my joint. Eh? Joint. Get the point?”
“We’re on our way out,” begins Merlissa.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” says the Jester. “Looks like you’ve at least
a couple of years left, to me. Boom boom!”
His bells shake like the warning of a very small apocalypse.
“Ignore him,” says Merlissa, “we’ve got to go before he…”
“Don’t go. We’ve only just begun. I’ve hundreds of dead good jokes. They’ll
slay you. Did you hear the one about….”
“Quick,” says Merlissa, “cover your ears and let’s get out of here.”
“No, no, you can’t go yet. You’re
my captive audience. I say, I say, I say, what do you call a corpse with no
head, arms, legs or torso? He’s Mr Nobody!”
“Ow!” says Merlissa, “The exit’s over there! Quick! Hey, Elfbow, let me
carry that awkward stick for you.”
“I’m fine.”
“No leaving. The exit is alarmed. Very alarmed. With good reason. It didn't laugh at my jokes. I've plenty more witticisms up
my sleeve and they’re all humerus.”
“Agh!” says Titchy. “That hurts.”
“I told you,” says Merlissa. “These jokes’ll be the death of us.”
“Why did the neckbone keep out of the rain? No? I'll tell you. He was atlas. Geddit?
Hatless! That’s a good one.”
“That’s over Titchy’s head,” mutters Elfbow, as he tries stuffing Scruff’s
tail in his ear.
“What did the defeated skeleton want when he broke down?”
“I don’t know,” Getrude finds herself saying. “What did the defeated skeleton
want?”
“He needed a toe! A tow! Defeeted. Breakdown. Brilliant, aren’t I?”
“My ears are bleeding,” says Titchy.
“What do you call a group of dancing skeletons? Corpse de ballet!”
“Run! Run!”
“Where does a skeleton without a backbone go for a Mediterranean holiday?”
“I don’t know,” intone Titchy and Elfbow in unison. “Where does a
skeleton without a backbone go?”
“Spine! What’s the skeletons’ favourite film? Saturday Night Femur!”
“Woof!” exclaims Scruff.
“Yes, Scruff. Bones. Just for you!”
With a flurry of paws and fur, Scruff leaps at the Jester.
“What’s the favourite music of a one-legged skeleton?”
“Woof! Woof! Woof!”
“Don’t bark with your mouth full, Scruff.”
“Hip hoooooop!”
With a wail and a final tinkle, the Jester fades into darkness.
“He’s gone! Thank goodness Scruff was hungry.”
“He’s a revenant. He’ll be back. Elfbow, why don’t I help you with that
inconvenient golden spear?”
"Merlissa, let go of Elfbow's spear. And I've a bone to pick with you..."
"I think we should get out of here."
"Woov!"
***
A simple post this week. One jesteriferous undead figure of unknown manufacturer. Possibly Citadel, but I think not. And a tomb from Reaper Bones.
Score: 5 points for the deathly jester, say approximately 2 for the tomb, and 20 for the location. Total 27.
