The Wall of Sass

“‘If walls could talk’, that’s what they always sayin’, baby. And guess what? I can! Aw, look at’cha down there, all confused. Pointy, flappy purple hat, cape like the night sky and … is that a lute? Why, you’re just adorable! I could just eat you up!” It had been an age and a half and I was just about to end it all from boredom (if such a thing was possible it’d be news to me but I digress) when this little man finally walked into the dungeon I was guardin’. It was like a dream come true!

“Ah … fair maiden, I hear your voice in yon chamber but, alas, your location remains a mystery. Forsooth, are you, perhaps, invisible?” What the hell was this garbage? Ain’t nobody talk like that since … okay, yeah, that makes sense.

“Hold up. Starcape, you a bard?” I ask this little twerp.

“Why, yes! And my reputation must precede me; I am indeed Amadeus Starcloak.”

“I said Star-cape! Listen why don’t you? Little ding-dong. Men. Never listen…”

“Ah, cape. Yes … it is Starcloak though. I wear this mystic artifact as it allows me to sleep in perfect comfort beneath the night sky, hidden from any that might do me harm.” Unbelievable! I made clear that I wanted him to shut up and still he’s goin’ on about himself. “For I am an adventurer of some renown, you see!”

“Shut. Up.”

“Ah, I, uh well then, pardon?”

“Boy, ain’t nobody wantin’ to know anything about you! Did I ask for your life’s story?” It was a serious question. Living as part of a wall for centuries will just ruin a person’s short-term memory, tell you what.

“You did not, madam. But I–”

“That’s what I thought! Hey, look at me when I’m talkin’ at cha! Up here!” Boy’s neck turned to rubber lookin’ around. “No. No, hey, pretend I’m a sundial and the entrance is North. No, your north! Stop!” He stopped several degrees too late but whatever. “Okay, now, right … and up!” Finally, he looked straight at me.

“Oh my…”

“That’s right, baby! I’m a luscious pair of big ol’ stone lips! And I’m the guardian of this here dungeon, y’all. If you’re here to do some lootin’ I gotta tell you, you should’ve brought some appetizers. You won’t last long.” The boy turned a lot paler shade of caucasian in that moment, ‘though, when I look at him for a minute I think he might have some elf in him.

“What is this!? Are you the victim of some sort of curse!?”

“What happened to the funny talk, Romeo?”

“Pardon?”

“No, excuse me! You came in here usin’ all these woo words. Forsooth, look at my codpiece. Prithy, young lass!”

“I don’t think I said prithy.”

“Okay, I mean, sure, you can disagree with a lady when you’re in her house but personally I think it’s bad manners.”

“Very well. Yes, I did speak formally before, as I have been schooled to speak thusly when addressing a fair lass.”

“So why’d you stop?”

“Madam…” He’s buying time or something. Does he not know why he was talkin’ stupid? “You are no lass. You’re a … well, you know, a–”

“A wall!?”

“Well yes!” He declared all confident-like. Dumb mother… And I assume that you are the first major threat to anyone attempting to loot your master’s dungeon. As you fare so well here I assume it hasn’t been looted then?”

“Little bit of them woo words comin’ back there, Romeo.”

“Amadeus. And, again, I have been schooled in the linguistic arts. The ‘woo words’, however, as you call them, are an antiquated form of humankind’s common language. Using them does take some degree of effort.”

“Oh … oh wait, I get it! You’re one of those fancy talkin’ guys who love theater and stuff? Oh, and the fruity instrument you got on your back. Oh my, if you knew what that looked like in X-ray you would never have painted it like that.”

“I’m … what now?”

“Oh, you know. What’s the word? More into poetry than a bawdy shanty. More red wine than mead. A … a–”

“Bard.”

“Poof!” Wait, what’d he say?

“What’d you say?” I had to ask. We talked at the same time so I really didn’t know.

“Madam! I am no poofta as you say! I am a bard!”

Oh, he’s gettin’ hot. That makes me hot, not that it matters, apparently. “No no no no, honey, it’s okay. Just means that we’ll be friends instead of lovers, y’know? Split the boys between us … talk trash about the other girls.”

“I am not a poof!” he shouted way too loud. I pucker which, if you knew me, you know that means I’m hurt. “Such tomfoolery! I come seeking adventure and am met with … I’m not even sure what. Be you a challenge to overcome, a greeter; are you even a wall!?”

At first I can’t say nothin’ because nobody talks to me like that. I could get mad I guess but my people skills are pretty bad, honestly. Starcape was the first person I seen in like a decade! I’m just snifflin’ (pretty hard with no nose) and let a single tear fall (don’t ask about my eyes.)

The tear really threw him too, let me tell you, and he doffed that stupid pointy flappy hat, puttin’ it over his mortal heart. Almost touching! “Pardon madam. I meant no offense. I’ve delved many a dungeon and crypt but never found myself faced with a creature of such earnest feeling. Of course I accept your friendship. But, may I please ask again, this time with respect … what is your role here?”

Right about now seems like a good time to turn off the waterworks. I’d like to say I can do it on cue but that’s a lie; (I’m a little unstable). Oh, well, y’know, I’m not sure. I was a greeter. It went a little like this.

—

So I launch into my like, origin story, I guess you could say. There was this dumb old man, you got no idea, just covered in magic items. He had ten magic rings, a bracelet on his right wrist let him wear ten more rings without stuff conflicting and a necklace let him wear more bracelets! “Okay, so, I’m a mouth on the wall? Can’t move around or nothin’?” I ask the guy. Pretty basic question but I was like five minutes old at the time.

“For the hundredth time no! I don’t understand; you knew your role yesterday.” Oh, maybe more than five minutes. “I summoned you and bound you to the walls of my domain so that you could help me to communicate with my minions! You aren’t a mouth on the wall; you are all the walls in the entire underground complex!”

“Oh hell yes! I’m like an underground castle!? I’m huge! Oh, I’m gonna try to stand up!” And I started strainin’, pushin’ and … oh yeah… “Oh dang! I think I just pooped!”

“What did you just say to me?” Crap, I was hoping he could explain. Heh. Crap.

“I pooped! Hey… If my mouth’s here … where’s my butthole?”

“How!? No, I summoned you here and… You don’t have a … anatomy! Not like that!”

“You sure, honey? I felt somethin’. Oh, got a cool breeze waftin’ over somethin’ wet too.”

“Cease this! You are an Eldritch Spectre summoned from the demiplane of shadow to do my bidding! And I bid you begone!” And I had to do what he said because … I guess it’s true. He summoned me. I’m just a messenger. Just … a minion.”

—

While I was checked out, narratin’ my past, this boy whipped out his quill and startin’ sprayin’ ink all over. “And then what!?” he asked, all excited-like.

“And then nothin’. Boy, I told you, I had to do what he said. Not payin’ attention … I oughtta pull off your Van Dyke.”

“Pardon?”

“Your beard! Your ugly little beard!”

“I … well, I never. Most ladies find my facial hair quite fetching.”

“It’s a little arrow pointing to a bigger arrow pointing at the dirt. At least the wizard that pulled my strings had a good reason; he didn’t know how to take care of himself. What’s your excuse?”

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