…for the well dressed waterfowl
The Doclopedia #540
Those Furry Little Bastards!: Fantasy Version
Karak, barbarian swordsman
“I’ll make this short, scribe, then you will leave me to my ale and foul mood. I am Karak, of the Northern Horde! My people live in a cold, rough and godless land. I slew my first opponent, a Driskan snakeman, when I was but 6 years old! I have fought and fought with the greatest warriors of this world! I have won and lost kingdoms and my name was feared everywhere. Was feared. No more. In one night, when those thrice cursed furry little bastards drugged me and then tattooed my body with tiny ponies, flowers, baby ducks and little bears with big eyes, I have gone from a fearsome warrior to a laughingstock! Now leave me to my drinking.”
Flin Evensoul, Elvish adventurer
“We were so near to success, perhaps a hundred yards away from the room containing the Scepter of the Steel God. We had fought our way deep down into the caverns, past slimes and night runners and hobgoblins and dozens of other creatures, most of them trying hard to kill us first. We had gotten past traps and over pits and we were so close. Then they came…maybe a dozen of them…the Pitipati. They started dancing and singing and playing kazoos and before we could shut them up, the dragom awoke. We didn’t even know it was there, so deep had been it’s slumber. It would not have even noticed us as we took the Scepter, but those furry little bastards woke it up! Oh, how we ran, even when we reached tunnels the dragon could not follow us down, because we knew he was using larger passages and we had no time to waste fighting other creatures. We ran for hours, and every time we stopped for breath, there were the Pitipati! By the time we escaped, three days later, Rancifal had lost an arm, Gilfi was half mad, Plook was sick from fever, Arlista was blind and I was cursed with boils. If I never see another Pitipati again, it will be too soon.”
Drovinius Zalfazar, Master Wizard
“Oh yes, the Pitipati! Not native to this world, you know. Oh no indeed, they are almost certainly just passing through. Still, they do raise a hell of a ruckus, don’t they? Relabeled all of Olanga Muradak’s potion components, you know. She thought she was mixing up a simple healing draught until it exploded, causing her to glow in the dark and stink like Hybithran cheese. Quite funny, but nobody would ever say that to Olanga’s face, mind you. Same with old Finderwick Qutz. The Pitipati mucked about with his wands so that when he went to toss a lightning bolt at that female bugbear, he actually cast a love beam. Hit her square in the chest and she went head over heels for poor Findy. She hung around outside his tower for months. He was terrified she’d have her way with him. Heh heh, it was pretty funny. No, young fellow, despite the amusement they may give to some of us with their antics, you’ll find no love for the Pitipati hereabouts.”
The Doclopedia #541
Those Furry Little Bastards!: Science Fiction Version
Engineering Officer on a starship
“No, Captain, I canna give ye warp speed. The little buggers have rerouted the warp controls to the food replicators. I tried to hit warp five and filled dining area three with apple fritters! No, we’ve got no phasers, either. They reworked them to fire a beam that loosens the bowels of most life forms. Well, yeah, sure that would buy us some time if ye shot the enemy ship with it.”
Doctor on the same starship
“Damn it, Captain, I’m a doctor, not a Pitipati hunter! Those little sons of bitches are everywhere and I’m damned if I can figure out how to tranquilize them. I hit one with enough morathalizine to knock out an elephant and all he did was get the hiccups. I can’t use stun gas on them because it makes them fart and their farts are highly explosive. All I can suggest is trying to beam them off the ship.”
Science Officer, same starship
“While they are fascinating creatures, Captain, they are also highly illogical and probably not from our reality. I have not been able to communicate with them as yet and an attempted mind meld found me regaining consciousness an hour later in the Botany lab covered in marshmallow cream and singing a human song about red red wine.”
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