Subject: My submission?
Author:
Posted on: 2013-07-08 13:11:00 UTC
[A character in the PPC hears a knock at their door. They have a visitor - but it's the last person they would have expected...]
"Sir Sharpsi, a bit higher, yes, yes, perfect! Ushdag, the spider silk and the cotton should not be on the same shelf! Put them on different shelves! Astaghfirullah, Bilza, why haven't you finished folding? I knew I should have these done back at the factory!"
Dark Lord Aakmal is looking rather undark with his anxiety and fear of possible embarassment at his first shop. He had always walked from door to door, trying to sell the silk to unsuspecting housewives and hooby tailors. But for the first time, he has his own, legal, unsuspicious shop. And oh my, it is in the PPC universe! Well, if the other universe is where his rezeki is, so be it. At least he didn't have to face questioning by the police for employing gorilla lookalikes.
Suddenly, they heard a knock in the door.
"Have we installed the doorbell yet?"
"Yes, My Lord, you did it yesterday."
"I must've connected them poorly. Let me see who's there."
Dark Lord Aakmal quickly runs to the door, unlocking the lines of locks and keypads the Orcs had installed. Aakmal makes a mental note to remove most of the locks later. And encase the holes left with cement. Or mithril, if he knows where to get some.
"Oh, do they have so many precious things to hide here? I thought the cave's where all the preciouses go."
After fumbling at the door for a few minutes, Aakmal quickly opened the door, giving a most sincere smile to... and he lost the smile almost immediately.
"Hello, I heard there's a new shop here. I hope to be the first to visit it. Are you Mr. Aakmal?"
Agent Dafydd. Also known as Maglor, son of Feanor, the participant of The Oath, second in wrath and skill to Maedhros himself. Excellent singer too. Or so what his orcs told him.
"Yes, yes, I am. A moment please, Sir."
Aakmal immediately locks as many locks on the door as fast as he can, walks away from the door, and then shouts as loud as he can.
"ANAK FEANOR!!!" Child of Feanor.
All orcs gets the cue, and hides themselves wherever they could. In the shelf, covered with silk, in the baskets, covering their bodies slightly, even a few that stood in artistic poses, covering themselves in cloth, to give the impression that they are exotic statues from somewhere.
After ensuring everyone is hidden, Aakmal unlocks and opens the door.
"Come in. We, I mean, I, am honoured to receive you. Agent Dafydd, yes? I heard a lot about you." Aakmal says nervously as he extends his right hand to be shaked.
Agent Dafydd smiled as he extends his left hand. Aakmal quickly reaches with his left hand and they shake hands together.
"You must have fever. The shop's cool, yet your hand is sweaty."
"Sorry, sir. Been nervous, first time open shop."
"Watch your grammar, my good man. PPC doesn't take kindly to grammar mistakes. It causes much ruin, and are the Suethors' greatest weapon."
"Thank you for the advice, sir."
"Can I look around?"
Aakmal thought for a second, then nodded, "Yes, sure."
Agent Dafydd looked into every cloth and apparel on sale at the shop. The gambesons, the silk shirts, the cotton, and even some cheap jeans Aakmal had brought from a cheap dealer.
"Your silk, Mr. Aakmal, is quite soft, and nice to look at too. Can I rip a sample?"
"Oh yes, Let me bring it for you."
Aakmal quickly gets a small silk handkerchief. Ushdag's head is exposed by Aakmal's action. Aakmal quickly covered her head with another pile of unfolded clothes.
Agent Dafydd takes the handkercief, hold one side of the handkercief with his foot, and tries to rip it off with his hand. After a few seconds, he gives up.
"Very strong. It must be Shelob's spawn that give you this."
Aakmal can feel his trousers being very wet. A few seconds later, it is. Agent Dafydd laughs.
"Ahaha, Hah, HAHAHAHAHAH! Oh god, you peed in your pants! But no, I'm not here to kill any orcs today. Why not call your workers out? I assure you, I mean them no harm."
Aakmal, looking rather stiff with fear, lifts his hand and motions all the orcs to come out. Everyone uncovered themselves, and slowly walked to Aakmal, then stands silently.
"Thirty of you?"
"We have others at our hiding place." Answered Gul Sharpsi. Aakmal is about to retort, but Gul Sharpsi holds Aakmal's shoulder, calming him.
"Well, as I said, I mean no harm to all you, including you, Dark Lord Aakmal."
Aakmal shoots an alarmed look.
"Oh come on, everyone talks about a new shop, opened by a Dark Lord. Of course I know you'll be the Dark Lord. Dark Lord Aakmal and Orcs' Amateur Boutique and Armourer, all the pamphlets go. Seems like you put Orcs and Spawn of Ungoliant to good use. All Elves would be applauding you, for doing the impossible, at least."
"The Orcs learnt to be good themselves, I only act as their connection to the wider world, Agent Dafydd."
The rest of the Orcs nodded in unison.
"Oh, drop the Agent title. It's Mr. Illian now. Well then, can I have a purchase?"
Aakmal quickly snapped himself out of his own trance. He clapped his hands, and every Orc runs to their respective stations. Aakmal is about to go to the cashier, but Gul Sharpsi stopped him.
"My Lord, perhaps it's well that you take a day off. Clean yourself off. And Mr. Illian, come, let us see what you'd like to buy."
"Yeah, I think I should." Aakmal walks to the toilet for a quick shower.
[Well, how does it go?]