Bin To Earth by Matt Woods (most romantic novels .txt) 📕

low flying bat swoops past.

“That’s not exactly the biggest crime in the world is it?” adds Fizz.

“You’re not wrong. I also got pulled up for not completing my time sheet correctly.” continues Sue, shaking her head “It’s only stupid paperwork after all. I wouldn’t mind so much but I’m by far the best wailer in my team, and I’m the most productive. I’ve not had a sick day in over three years now and I always get good ratings in my appraisals. I exceeded expectations last year for crying out loud. It just really annoys me.”

“Why don’t you go for another job?” asks Fizz as they both make their way into the clearing. A short distance ahead of them was Comptons Tavern, and Stich and Freal were already by the entrance waiting for the others to catch up.

“It’s a bit tricky really Fizz bearing in mind I’m a banshee. It’s all I’m able to do. Being a wizard has always appealed to me but I’ve got no experience in casting magic or wearing silky cloaks. I know I wouldn’t even get past the first interview.”

Fizz nods her head in agreement. “You’re probably right there. Being a female would probably go against you as well. They generally opt for the bearded male look don‘t they!”

Sue smiles. “Anyway, I’m sure things will work out. If it continues I’ll just make sure I bring it up at my next development meeting.”

“Fair enough.” replies Fizz jovially as they finally reach the taverns entrance. Lagging behind were Skeleton Bob, Grunt and Ross who’d just come into view of the others.

“Hurry up!” yells Stich, cupping his hairy hands to his mouth. “I’m bursting for some ale.”

“We’re cuming as fist as we can” shouts back Ross, nearly barging into Skeleton Bob. “My bilance isn’t very god today.”

“Yeah, neithers your speech.” mutters Stich quietly, causing sniggers amongst the others.

Comptons Tavern was a popular haunt for drinkers and sports folk alike. Although it was known as a Tavern, it offered more than just a place to socialise and indulge in fine ales. Built on just the one level, the building covered a large expanse of ground, and as such had a fair amount of space. Although its prime function was as an ale house, it also had a large hall which was regularly used for sporting activities such as football, basketball and indoor cricket. The main bar area was fairly large, and ran the entire length of the building. Windows spanned the length of the bar, and gave wonderful views of the Lamber hills in the distance. Because the Tavern played host to indoor sports, there were also shower cubicles and changing rooms to allow participants to freshen up.

As they enter the Tavern, Skeleton Bob, Grunt and Ross head to the showers whilst the others make their way to the bar. Fizz and Sue were keen to get started on the drinks, so waste no time in heading down the corridor towards the bar’s entrance. Stich and Freal amble behind at a more leisurely pace.

As they turn a corner, Stich spots Cockney Jaffa, a dwarf, half way up a ladder applying a much needed fresh lick of paint. Cockney Jaffa was a painter and decorator by trade, and a good one at that. Very few ever grumbled about his work. Problem was though, even if they did, they would have been hard pushed to understand Jaffa’s response to their complaint. The dwarf seemed to speak his own dialect which the majority struggled to understand. This explains why Stich feels a sense of dread as he heads with Freal towards the dwarf;

“Look who it is” whispers Stich to the ghost. “Can you speak to him today pal? I can never understand a word he’s saying.”

“You and me both” mutters Freal quietly. “Let’s just smile, nod our heads and keep it as brief as we can.”

Spotting the pair, Cockney Jaffa balances his paint brush on his tin and moves down the ladder;

“Howdy guys. You off for some Richard Gere eh?” says Jaffa, now at ground level. “Knowing you two, I bet you’re gonna get well Schindlers List.”

Stich and Freal stare blankly at each other whilst Cockney Jaffa continues;

“Suppose you’re gonna have a good ole David Gower first eh, you know, get rid of the old Dame Judy Dench.”

Freal feels a response is required. “Ooh, yeah Jaffa, know what you’re saying mate.” He looks at Stich for some reassurance, the hobgoblin offering nothing more than a shrug of his shoulders.

Jaffa isn’t fazed. “How did the ole Colney Hatch go? Did you kick their Khyber Pass?”

Stich’s face lightens up as he realises this is one he can answer.

“We were well Watford Gap Jaffa.” begins the hobgoblin, Freal just staring at him in pure amazement. “Complete and utter Turkish Delight mate. Still, we had a good ole Steffi Graf and we’re looking forward to downing loadsa kitchen sinks now.”

Cockney Jaffa nods his head. “Well you make sure you have a good time now. I better crack on and finish this corn on the cob ere.” says the dwarf, climbing back up the ladder. “Sooner I get this done sooner I can have a good ole Brad Pitt.”

Jaffa returns to the job at hand whilst Freal and Stich stare disbelievingly at each other.

“Did he just say what I thought he said?” questions Stich.

Freal just makes a face as they both leave the incomprehensible dwarf behind to look forward to his toilet trip. Within a few minutes they are both seated inside the bar area having joined both Sue and Fizz.

The ladies had picked a table towards the far corner of the room, next to a table of around half a dozen rowdy giants. Even in the short time Fizz and Sue had been seated in the bar, the Taverns manager, Vampire Flannishan, had swooped over and requested the giants tone it down a bit. They clearly weren’t heeding his words though and were still having all manner of drink related hilarity.

Aside from the giants’ boisterous behavior, the Tavern was quieter than usual today. No more than around a dozen or so tables were occupied, some with couples out for a relaxing drink or two, others with groups of pals out to have a good time. Like with any alehouse, Comptons Tavern had its regulars, none more so than the company of wizards seated towards the middle of the room. Rarely a day went past without Greybold and his practitioner chums necking drinks in their favourite alehouse. They reckoned it helped nurture their creative abilities, although many did question how singing loutish songs, lifting robes a shade too high and vomiting in the gutter was ever going to give them inspiration!

What made Comptons Tavern a unique and popular place to socialise were the windows which spanned the full length of the rear wall. It was pretty much all glass, so not only gave the room a great deal of light, but allowed the paying customers to gaze at the wonderful views
.
One of Elzacs endearing characteristics were the range of different creatures and beings that inhabited the land. It was not unusual to see dragons swooping majestically over the hilltops or groups of elves and dwarves playing sports on the fields outside. Throughout history Elzac had prided itself in welcoming creatures of all types, and to this day peace and harmony was a staple part of life on this land. Few wars or battles had ever been fought, crime was virtually non-existent, and everyone just got on with their daily lives with the minimum of fuss.

After a short while, Skeleton Bob, Grunt and Ross enter the bar and head over to sit with their pals. There were enough seats for all of them, Ross opting for the comfy leather sofa which was so far unoccupied;

“That’s bitter.” says the zombie, sitting down and stretching his arms out high. “I feel mich more invigorated now after that shuwer.”

Freal, sitting opposite Ross, looks perplexed. “How on earth can you mess up words like much and shower, yet you can say invigorated without any problems at all?”

“It’s a mustery, I’ll gove you that.” replies Ross. “Whit is even more stronge is I can say wirds like invulnerability, perpendicular and vicissitude with ease. I don’t git it myself sometimes.”

Whilst they all chat between themselves, Vampire Honnigan swoops over to their table to take their order. Skeleton Bob orders several pitchers of ale for the group and a pot of tea and a plate of bourbon biscuits for Sue the banshee.

When it came to supping tea, there was no-one who enjoyed a cuppa more than Sue, even in the company of her beer guzzling pals. Sue was different from other banshees on Elzac, her homely look making her a rather unique Omen of Death. She always wore flowery ankle length dresses, and she had one of those faces that could best be described as welcoming and friendly. Her disposition was to be kind and helpful, in short just the sort of banshee you’d be proud to have as your Mum. Aside from the ear-piercing wails of course!

Whilst Vampire Honnigan swoops away to fetch their drinks, the group start talking between themselves;

“Rowdy lot them giants.” says Freal, gesturing towards the next table.

Grunt, his head perched on a small round table, swivels his eyes around to look. His body was sitting close by. “You know what they’re celebrating don’t you?” says the head.

Freal shrugs his shoulders. “Haven’t the foggiest.”

“Well you know Curious Simpson from the Pasty Hut down Grange Plaza.” begins the head. “Well he’s started selling those scratch card things that folk have been talking about.”

“I’ve heard about them.” adds Skeleton Bob, sat opposite Freal. “You can win a lot of money on them apparently.”

“Well that’s just the point.” continues Grunt’s head. “Ole Roofus over there has only gone and won himself £10,000 Grotas.”

“Bloody hall!” exclaims Ross.

“What’s the daft brute going do with all of that?” asks Fizz, her spindly legs stretched out before her.

“Well rumour has it he’s gonna splash out on a nice holiday for him and Mrs Roofus.” replies Grunts head.

“Well that’s a bloomin stupid idea! There’s nowhere to go!” adds Stich, his short stumpy legs allowing him to sit cross legged on his chair.

Stich had a point. Historical evidence supported the fact that Elzac was geographically out on a limb. Many attempts had been made over preceding centuries by adventurous types, predominantly dragons, to discover neighbouring lands, but all to no avail. The last intrepid explorer to brave flight into the unknown had been Haramadas, a courageous dragon who’d travelled for close to a hundred and fifty years in the hope of discovering new lands. He’d found none, and got more than a little miffed on his return when the then ruler criticised him for not looking hard enough. In his defence Haramadas had said that if you hadn’t found something after a hundred and fifty years of looking chances were it probably wasn’t there!

“I think he plans to stay local” continues the head, the sound of laughter increasing from the adjacent table. “Maybe pop over to Dorman or Klaferty, you know, somewhere nice on the coast.”

“I’d rather give up tea than spend a week in Klaferty.” contributes Sue, sitting with her legs crossed and hands on her lap. “It’s not the nicest place to visit.”

“Didn’t you once date