The two humanoids cast him an odd glance. They must be onto him!
"Oh, pardon me, I have a cold," Sir Snoota followed, "I believe the correct password is LANCEINYOURFACE!"
"Why, that's corre-" Edgar began to say, but he was cut off as a lance suddenly shot out from this strange orc's gut and impaled itself in his face.
"I say," Chauncy proclaimed, "you got the secret action correct, too. Go on i-"
"You won't trick me, Bajorc!" Snoota cried, impaling his lance into Chancy's eye. With a sickening slurp, he jerked the lance free and hopped off of his bard's shoulders.
"Incredible, Sir Snoota!" cried the young man. "I could feel the excitement of battle poking me in the back of my head!"
"Yes...excitement," the knight said, looking around suspiciously. "Well, come, bard! We must rescue the scantily-clad elf...because I'm only attracted to women...not men...or bards...okay...let's go."
*** DEEP INSIDE THE CAVE ***
The two crept through the twists and curves of the Bajorc's subterranean fortress. Each step was planned, cautious, and quiet, for any sound whatsoever could set the Bajorc's into a frenzy of polite conversation.
"We are lucky, sir knight," Vorbis whispered, "the Bajorcs are feeding. They shall be distracted."
He pointed ahead to a doorway from which light and noise emanated. Foul, sickening sounds that made even the stoic Sir Snoota's skin crawl.
"Behold," the bard said, "their dining chambers. Within lies a spectacle of the worst kind of feeding you have ever seen."
The two peeked around the corner, their eyes going wide at what they saw. Picnic tables laden with pizza, cake and soda lined the cavern walls like gruesome altars of despair. Balloons of all colors, like rainbow demons, floated about the cieling. In the center, the Bajorcs had formed a ritualistic circle where two of them held a low-set iron bar and another attempted to crawl under it.
Sir Snoota felt his noble soul shiver as their fierce chanting reached his ears: "HOW LOW CAN YOU GO! HOW LOW CAN YOU GO! HOW LOW CAN YOU GO!"
"Enough!" Sir Snoota hissed, sneaking past the doorway. "We must hurry and find the elf. My soul drifts ever closer to darkness upon seeing these creatures."
"Indeed," Vorbis agreed, "none have ever survived the dreaded Lim-Bo Stik."
They continued to sneak through the caverns, past pizza parties and gossip in the powder rooms, until they finally came upon a door. No sooner had they approached than a stone-carved Bajorc's face set into it opened its rocky jaws and began to speak.
"Hold," it spoke in a fierce tone, "Those who would take the half-naked elf within, must give answer to the riddle I spin."
"A riddledoor, sir knight!" Vorbis gasped. "I had heard of them in tales past! You must answer their riddle to open the door."
"Very well," Sir Snoota proclaimed, "let us hear this riddle."
The face cleared its rocky throat and spoke.
I speak in jibberish
I make your brain ache
If there were any justice in life
I'd be made into steak."
"What am I?"
1: Mog, clearly.
2: Sounds like that fool, Kagrama.
3: Zeke the Final Fencer! I thought you were dead!
4: I can't see your anus, but if you don't open the door, I swear my lance will find one.
waht si rnwg wht mawg?
Disclaimer: I'm just kidding, I love all living things.
The fastest draw in the Crest.
"The Internet is MY critical thinking course." -Maradon
"Gambling for the husband, an abortion for the wife and fireworks for the kids they chose to keep? Fuck you, Disneyland. The Pine Ridge Indian Reservation is the happiest place on Earth." -JooJooFlop
quote:
Zeke the Final Fencer stopped beating up furries long enough to write:
I vote me!
How'd your fight with the lead vampire go?
... but where is the Somthor choice? 
no
fourrrrrrr
Woohooo1!
--Satan, quoted by John Milton
"No!" the riddledoor laughed heartily. "I am a Maradonicore that has gotten into the mead!"
"Oh." Sir Snoota said blankly.
A long, ominous silence hung over the room.
"Can I enter anyways?" the knight asked.
"Sure," the door replied. With a slow, grinding creak, the stone portal opened revealing the small prison cell inside.
Sir Snoota and his bardic sidekick rushed in to find their scantily-clad companion chained to the wall in a variety of leather and chains. She looked up excitedly at them as they entered.
"Sir knight!" she cried. "You came to rescue me! Quickly! Pour some lotion over my nearly-nude body so that I may writhe free of my bonds!"
"I shall!" Sir Snoota responded. "And bard, be sure to videotape it! We shall have a KING'S RANSOM of internet pornography!"
As the knight reached to grab his handy lubricant, he suddenly became aware of a looming shadow over him. He whirled about to see a mountain of black-skinned muscle. Wearing regal chainmail and gripping an axe of bloodied stone, the tremendous Bajorc sneered at the companions from beneath a crown of bone and horns.
King Bajah had come.
"Who dares to enter the prisoner's chambers without permission?!" the king bellowed. "Don't you realize she might have been indecent? You could have at least knocked first!"
"We apologize, King!" Vorbis replied. "But we had to enter."
"Regardless," the king snorted, "I have a great respect for women. You must now be killed for entering her room." He growled and hefted his great stone axe.
"Sir Snoota," Lashanna whispered, "he's a mighty brute! How will we escape this time? And why haven't you poured oil on me yet?"
Sir Snoota furrowed his brow in thought.
How will they escape King Bajah?
1: He doesn't look that strong; let's rush him!
2: He doesn't look that smart; let's bluff him!
3: He doesn't look that self-confident; let's insult him!
the weekness of te ineternet hore!
--Satan, quoted by John Milton
