Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,
Sythyry
sythyry

Talking Sense Into Grinwipey

Mirrored from Sythyry.

Me: “What on wood possessed you to go beat up Invincible Fire Demon?”

Grinwipey: “Aw, I don’t know, boss. Not the spollical sparkiest clue. ‘Cause, well, I didn’t lay club nor clentacle on him, so I ain’t got no what you might call practical experience to guide the way to an answer. Ain’t done no proper research into the matter, wouldn’t you know? But iffen I go beat him up sometime sure and I’ll tell you why I did, though.”

Me: “Well, you went and threatened him.”

Grinwipey: “Had to get him to wear that droll dress somehow, y’know? He’s a happy enough joker when it’s him that’s putting the joke on some sweet shoggy, but when it’s him as is going to wear the joke, he needs a wee wittle bit of wencouragement.”

Me: “Jokes or no jokes, I won’t have you threatening my passengers. I run a kind and tolerant ship, and there’s no place for violence or threats of violence on it.”

Grinwipey: “Well, boss, there’s a wee wittle bit of wonfusion about that matter.”

Me: “There is not.”

Grinwipey: “There’s what you say, and what Squadgin says, and somehow I think that it might be Squadgin has the more accurate memory of the matter.”

Me: “… Squadgin? …”

Grinwipey: “Squadgin, my imaginary friend what on the thirteenth of Trandary last you had me talk all intimidating-like to Alzagonde about, not so long after she had tried to do her rospy little researches on Feralan. Sure and you said ‘no threatening’ to me in public back then too, but just as sure you said in private that I should go do that little scene. So I says to myself, I says, ‘Wipey, old shog, old self, that stuff the boss says about no threatening, it’s just a public line, zie tosses it into the cramper-and-goo whenever it’s not convenient. And it’s sure not convenient now, when a wriggly swimmy is writing wriggly poems at me.’”

Me: “And that’s another point. This is largely a traff ship. There’s bound to be cross-species flirting, even at you and Windigar and the other cisaffectionate people on board. I won’t tolerate anyone responding with violence or even ill manners to a cross-species flirt.”

Grinwipey: “Oh, a flirt was it? That diddly little detail somehow escaped my old agèd eyestalks. It wasn’t no fiddle-fucky flirt when I read those poems. Now, a flirt is a thing I can laugh off and say a kind no-thankee-ma’am, like I did for Inconnu and Hops and even your doggy, doggy girlfriend though she was sort of drunk at the time and it was before she was actually your girlfriend. Not a word or a whomp did I give one of them, though I found their suggestions as repugnant as a rotten rotifer!”

Me: “Well, what then?”

Grinwipey: “I read it as a mock, and a mort o’ mocks at that. Someone thought it’d be fun to squirt the squinky squid with the squackle of squeem, you see. Happens now and then. Happens that when someone realizes he’s a wrongfolk of some kind, he needs to feel he’s better than some other kind of wrongfolk. ‘I might be traff’, thinks he, ‘but at least I’m no Khtsoyis! And what better way to emporposize that I’m no Khtosyis than to poop out some pulpy putrid poems at one!’”

Me: “Well, they were mocking, but they were more mocking the person who wrote them.”

Grinwipey: “Well, if you want a strick literary axes-geeses, for chopping their heads off all clean-like, it’s not so much the person who wrote them, but the presumably-fictive person who is the first-person narribator of them. Or that’s what I thinks to myself when I’m all deconfucktioning them and detectiving about them.”

Me: “But you went to punish Invincible Fire Demon anyhow — who was all but the name signed on them. By the logic you just said, he should have been the last person you’d suspect: the poems were mocking him too.”

Grinwipey: “Well, boss, here’s how it goes. I thinks to myself, ‘It sure ain’t Invie, that would be ridickerous, just like my boss is going to say in a day or two when all the shits hit the shins. So, by a process of pooping, or, as those polite toffs say, elimination, it’s got to be someone else what done it!’ But I needs to be sure, I does, because I won’t go wicking and wearing-at the wrong wone, wou know. So I finds me a Cani what’s got a bit o’ sense and a big ol’ nose — these being two things what I am lacking the way that a shrike lacks a pudding-spoon — and I finds me your own girlfriend Arfaen. And I asks her to sniff at some of the poems. Well, of course they stinks as poems, so I ask her to sniff with her eyes closed, and she says they smells like Invincible Fire Demon, all over, and nobody else at-all. So I says to myself, ‘Well, there’s no arguing with a Cani nose, and I’m a-thinking it’s some psyprological preculiarity of the turning-traff coming up here and he wanted to be publicquely acquelaimed as the funny, funny fipper what writes funny, funny poems. So, if he loves making everybody do the laughing, sure as a shirrer he can love it from the costume I’ll make him, too!’”

Me: “So … you checked and it was Invincible Fire Demon who wrote them?”

Grinwipey: “Nah, I checked with Phaniet who saw a scent-squiddling spell on them. It was Inconnu who wrote them.”

Me: “So why’d you beat up … well, threaten and mock up … Invincible Fire Demon?”

Grinwipey: “Oh, that. Didn’t check with Phaniet ’til after it was later, not nine minutes ago it was when I got the impression somehow I’d made a proper pie-and-cake of it. I was so sure it was Invincible Fire Demon when I frengled him. I’d done my doo-doo diligence, don’t ya know?”

Me: “You admit that you got the wrong victim?”

Grinwipey: “Yeah, yeah, that’s what happen when you’re a stupid stupid shoggy trying to get a bit o’ justice in the world. It’s a mistake to even try, you see. Not like traff people, who can get a wizard to make a city for them.”

Me: “That has nothing to do with it, and you’re not a stupid shoggy.”

Grinwipey: “Not feeling like a spiffy-smart one today, though. But it was a natural-like mistake, it was. Even a wize, wize wizard might gibble up a goof when zie checks with only one expert chocky checkapoo.”

Me: “There’s several people have suggested I cease to be your patron and toss you off the ship.”

Grinwipey: “Well and I’m sure as shitwater they’re right about that. But maybe instead we get some someone sensible ‘n impartialatible to mediate it, like we was civilized peoples what tries to live together in peace ‘n harmony, just as if they was in a city together like they wants to be?”

Me: “… That’s fair.”

This is why I — and many another Zi Ri — should never try to rule anything.

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