Part 6 of this storyline. Borgus is at home, resting fitfully under the covers in his nightcap, speaking into the darkness of his bedroom. A lamp sits on a side table. They have nice wallpaper in their bedroom too.
BORGUS: I guess sometimes we have to reconcile ourselves to the idea that what we THOUGHT we knew is WRONG. / That's the sign of a mature mind, though, right? Adaptability? Openness to new information? / We KNOW about the lightning duds now. They're REAL, and they VISIT us, and the sensible thing to do is to COEXIST.
He shivers under his thick duvet.
BORGUS: ...Ooh, your toes are like ICE!
Borgus' wife, AEMICE, pokes her head in from the other side of the room.
AEMICE: Sorry, are you talking to me?
But wait. If Aemice is there...then whose toes...
Borgus turns to the other side of the bed. Nestled cozily into the pillow is the lightning dud previously seen wearing Aemice's intimates. The little goblin is still likewise adorned.
From outside the house, a passerby would be able to hear Borgus' aggrieved shouting through the upstairs window:
BORGUS: OUT! OUT! NO more! NOT in here!
One by one, the lightning duds tumble out of the window and out of the house.
AEMICE: Are you sure that's WISE--
BORGUS: I can't STAND it! I WON'T tolerate it! I DON'T CARE!
Borgus is sure as hell gonna care, because his house is immediately struck by lightning. KRAKOOM
random.
previous.
next.
current.
