The Goblin Adventures

Part 4

“No, and I saw the stuff dropping off, so I will have to give you a fixed penalty notice for littering.”

  “Aww, how much is it?”

  “70 gold coloured pieces.”

  “What, that’s three weeks wages to us!”

  “Three weeks,” said the dwarf, “that’s below minimum wage. Who do you work for?”

  The goblins all looked at each other, “Er, the D…” said Wobble.

  “The District Council,” butted in Wibble.

  “Oh well,” remarked the dwarf, “if you’re councillors then you must be upstanding members of society and my employers. So I’ll let you be on your way. Good morning.”

  Idunno lurched off again leaving the policeman waving at them.

  “Whew, that was close,” whewed Ugbash. “Good idea Wibble, saying we were from the District council.”

  “Yeah, who would ‘ave fought councillors would ‘ave been as low paid as us.”

They passed the Scumbleborough sign on the way in. It was summer so there were a lot of vehicles on the roads.

  “Tourists,” moaned Ugbash, “having to pass 10 caravans has really slowed us down. No wonder Jeremy Clarkson wants to blow them all up. They’re like snails on Prozac.”

  Idunno parked near the sea front and they all walked to the beach.

  “Ooh, can I go on the donkeys?” asked Pan Head.

  “We’re not here to play,” griped Ugbash.

  “Oh, please, please, please, please, please?” staccatoed Pan Head.

  “Oh alright.” Ugbash looked at Idunno, “You go with him on the donkeys, see he doesn’t fall off. We’ll try to find out where the squinks live.”

  Ugbash went up to a sunbathing elf. “Excuse me madam.”

  “I am a man,” said the elf.

  “Is the Author ever going to give up with that joke,” thought Ugbash. “Sorry Sir, but could you tell me where we may find some squink.”

  “They sell it over there on the fish stall.”

  “Oh really, well, as a matter of fact, we were looking to hunt some.”

  “You need a hunting licence around here to hunt squink.”

  “Do you? How do you get one of those?”

  “From the local council. It takes about 7 days to process it.”

  “We ain’t got 7 days, we’ve got about 7 hours then we are for the chopping block.” He then mumbled to himself, “I wish we were councillors then we could give ourselves a hunting licence in 7 minutes.”

  “Well, why don’t you buy some from the fish stall?”

  “If we don’t catch none we may have to. Thanks mate.” He looked at Chop as he walked away, “Did you hear that? We need a hunting licence.”

  “Yeah, if we were councillors then we could give ourselves a hunting licence in 7 minutes.”

  “I mumbled that to myself about a minute ago.”

  “So what if we don’t ‘ave a licence, we should hunts it anyway. Ask ‘im where we can find some live ones.”

  “Er, excuse me mate,” asked Ugbash as he turned back to the elf, “where do the squink run around?”

  “There’s a secluded cove about a mile down the beach, some can be found there.”

  “Thanks again,” then Ugbash shouted at Pan Head, “Have you finished on that donkey yet?”

  Pan Head, who was enjoying himself, just smiled back.

  “He’s as happy as a…(joke yet to be developed by the Author.)