Dreams are strange things. In fact, they are even stranger when one dreams of these two little brutes. For try as they might, the lot of Thrak, Iricah, Frank, Andril, Haryk, Areia and Zy’an woke one morning recently. As each prepared their meals or gathered supplies on whatever journey they had embarked upon, the twin voices of two little miscreants chimed in their memory.
“No! No, not there you stinker! She said she found it in the Hag’s lair!”
“This whole place is the hag’s lair, Ding you promiscuous little hornswoggler!”
“Don’t you call me promiscuous Dong. I wasn’t the one who tried to have me way with that garden shrew last…”
“Ding!!!!!!!! If you don’t want to help, just go back to the pub will ya? But don’t get caught! Slimmy is on to us!”
“He is not!”
“You moron! You’re waking her! She’ll catch us!” Shrill laughter erupted but was suppressed quickly. It sounded like someone with a hand over their mouth.
In the dream, the little hairy man placed a small stick, or what looked like one, next to a pile of bones. The small object grew larger and larger until it became nothing more than a spade. It lay there, a simple shovel, albeit a brilliantly crafted one.
“She’s going to love this you know, dummy.”
“I know. Remember when she….”
“Shhhh!!! You big Stupid. That’s probably going to change. Goldi-locks told us so!” More excitable laughter. It was the kind that a child makes when they’ve discovered a secret and must not share it.
“What’s next anyway?!” One of them asked.
“It’s the big scaley’s headpiece in the creepy island ship.”
“You mean, he actually did that? I thought he was full of it!”
“He told us Stupid!”
“Well, I wasn’t listening obviously! Besides, you trust a lizard who hasn’t done something yet to tell you the truth, do ya? No wonder you’re poking shrews these days!”
There was a sound of squealing, followed by the sounds of fighting. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the voices stopped.
“Great, that’s all I need is a smart lizard.”
“What you need is to find a more attractive shrew you imbecile.”