If you can get this thong out of his eye, Clyde The Flatulent Gnome be grateful enough to join you in your quest to rid the world of/convert the world to EVIIIIL.
*graciously* "All my roguish abilities at your service my lady."
Clyde *blushing*: While I, in some strange way I don't really understand, hate to part with the irritating fragment of the "atomic wedgie", your help in it's removal will earn you my undying friendship. And ah...er...um..... pardon, if you will, the front of my tunic's "unusual" shape. I made it from an old "tent". That's all it is, really. No, really!
************** Suddenly from behind, Clyde hears the voice, he's been running from for the last two moon cycles **********************************************
Fear grips Clyde to his very soul, for he knows the voice can only be, Zordakithann, the stench hunter!
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"Your right to swing your fist ends where my nose begins."
[This message has been edited by Ronn_Bman (edited 10-25-2001).]