Vii. elves are poncy gits

VIII. More Boring Adventures

As he got up and put on his "I Visited the Elves and All I Got Was
This Lousy T-shirt" T-shirt, Bozo decided that two female characters
weren't too many after all.

The Druid gathered everyone together. "As you know," he
waffled, "our task is to find Sauron's Diary. In order to do this,
we must get inside the library, a perilous place. To get inside the
library, we're going to need fake IDs. So we need to visit an old
friend of mine and get him to do the job for us. He's the greatest
counterfeiter since Ahpopone. Then I need to go talk to some dead
people, because I don't have a clue what the shades I'm doing."

"What!" roared Bombador. "You Y$#$#^$#^$* ^%^#^#^#*&$^#
^$#*&$^#*!!!!! Maybe it's time someone who *really* knew how to lead
led us. Like me, for example?"

Anacin defended his friend the Druid, "I wike Waffelon. He'th very
thmart and dretheth with almotht Elvish tathte. Tho shut up, you
thtupid hu-mon!"

Bombador punched Anacin in the mouth. Things might have gone badly,
but fortunately the Druid turned Bombador into a frog. "That settles
that," he said with a cruel smile.

"Don't worry," said Bozo. "This consulting the dead business is just
a formality. Whatever Waffelon decides to do will turn out to be
right. It's almost boring how routine all this is."

That night, Bozo did some thinking in indirect speech. So far,
things were going fairly well. He had gotten the girl. The style was
repetitious, but at least the author had a grasp of English
vocabulary, unlike certain fantasy authors who misused the
word "reticent." It had been amusing when Fred had tried to write
indecent poetry about Excedrin earlier that day, only to have the
druid tell him, "This is not porn, and besides, she's mine!" And
even more amusing when Lovelinda had told Fred, "You're *kind of*
good-looking but rather boring; so nah." Fred had always fancied
himself a lady killer ... YRAINW. Suddenly, Bozo stopped short,
realizing that this use of indirect speech was becoming appallingly cliché.

The next day they visited the Druid's friend Enron. "Well met, after
all these years!" he cried, clasping Enron's hand.

"Whenever you say that, it means you want to leech me," said Enron,
shaking Waffelon's hand vigorously. "What is it this time?"

"We need fake IDs in order to break into the library and get killed."

"My counterfeiting skills are crummy," said Enron. "Besides, what's
in it for me?"

"Control of the White House?" suggested Waffelon.

"I completely refuse to even remotely contemplate ever doing this. I

"F**k you," said the Barf.

"What he said!" agreed Bombador.

"Don't worry; after refusing for four or five pages, he'll agree to
do it," said Bozo. "They always do." And so he did.

"Ho ho hmhmghghgh," said Bluff.

Then they went to the Hellhole and the druid talked to a bunch of
dead people who showed him some weird visions that he didn't
understand, especially the ones involving Pokémon. "That was really
scary," said Fred.

"YR," retorted Bozo.

After a while, they arrived at the Library.

"If you enter the Library, beware!" thaid Anacin to the Druid.

"Whatever," said the Druid.

"Don't worry," began Bozo; but Fred and Waffelon gagged him and he
said no more that day.

Then they travelled a bit.

No, they didn't.  They slept for a while before preparing to enter the Library.

chapter ix. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew!