Knock your block off

“I’m not talking to you,” said Garth.

“Suit yourself,” said Glom.

“You bastards.”

“Oh, what have we done this time?”

Garth sneered at Glom, his Orcish… colleague, for want of a
better word.

“So, I’m at this construction site, right? And suddenly this
high-up walks up and asks me what I’m doing. So I think to myself, If
you can’t see I’m mixing cement, what the hell are you doing on a
construction site?”

“Gah. I know the type. Bet you he wasn’t even wearing a helm.”

“Oh he was. With horns on. Git. So I tug me forelock, and tell this
pillock. Mixing cement M’lud.” Garth snorted. “So he says, Nooo, you’re
not mixing cement, my good man, and I’m thinking, which one of us is
the builder here?”

“Oh Gods,” said Glom. “You get those guys as well? Don’t give a
toss most of the year, and then suddenly they remember that someone,
somewhere was building something, and then,” Glom made some rumbling
noises in his throat, “They start Taking an Interest.”

“Precisely. So he says: You are not just mixing cement, my friend,
you are building the future of the Alliance! You must see the bigger
picture! You must ask yourself, why am I doing this?”

Glom laughed. “Twenty bloody silver a week, that’s why!”

“Twenty? Lucky sods. So he buggers off, having motivated the living
crap out of me for ten minutes, and I’m wondering if I have a bloody
big bucket-shaped brick here, and if I give a toss whether I do or
not, and get on with it. Built a beautiful bit of wall, actually. Son
of a motherless ogre’ll probably take credit for it. You know how
sometimes the mortar and the bricks fall just right?”

“All the time. We get trouble if we don’t.”

“Hah. So up comes knock-off time, and just as I put me tools
away…” Garth glared at the Orc. “A band of you lot turns up with
sodding balistas and knocks the place down again. So much for the
bloody future of the Alliance.”

Glom laughed, slapping his thigh. “Hah! Go green! That’ll teach you
not to farm bloody soldiers.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Good. So what’re ye doing tomorrow?”

“Building the same Light-forsaken barracks again.” Garth sighed.
“Ah well. Keeps a body in work, I suppose.”


Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.

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