Well not until I woke up that is. As far as regaining conciousness goes this was a bad one. Getting clouted upside the head is bad enough but waking up hanging upside down from a meat hook in an ogre's den is just about as bad as it's ever been for me. How did I know it was an ogre's den? Well let's just say that the decor left nothing to the imagination. I'll spare you a description of the sights and the smells though I suspect they'll always have a prime place in my roster of nightmares until the Goddess clasps me to her sweet bosom that is. Thankfully someone had just looped a rope around my ankle and hung that from the meat hook rather than sticking the hook through my ankle. Still bloody uncomfortable though. My wrists were trussed together and I could see my fake leg had been stuck somewhere rude in one of my meat hook neighbours. How ironic considering the number of times I'd threatened or wanted to do that to someone.
There was no disguising the fact that I was conscious because besides the groans of regaining consciousness I had started awake and set myself to spinning around. Not the best thing on an already upset stomach. After breakfast had exited the way it came in I tried to stop myself from spinning. I managed to slow myself to a gentle spin and once my stomach settled I tried to look around.
>From my gently rotating perch I could see that two of the three wannabe Bush
Range hillbillies were seated at a table playing some sort of game with a
grizzled, even bigger version of the same. No doubt the owner of the scary
voice. Incongruously there was a small scruffy, indescriminate looking
mongrel attached to a leash sitting at the table as well perched on a chair.
Odder still he had playing pieces in front of it. It noticed me looking
over and I swear that a sad look came over its eyes. One of the young orges
glanced over when he saw it looking and saw that I was awake. "Our guest is
awake Pa. Ratbane spotted him." Ratbane?
The grizzled one cuffed the speaker upside the head and he flew backwards and thumped into a wall. He slumped to the floor and lay there rubbing his jaw. The grizzled one turned around to sit backwards on his chair in order to face me with a somewhat disgusted look on his face. He shrugged. "What can I say? They take after their mothers. Got anything smart to say now Treibonus?" He smirked.
"I think from now on I'm going to set a limit on the number of times that I am willing to regain consciousness during an investigation." It was fairly annoying to be turning around uncontrollably while talking to someone. "No more than once per investigation I think." "Oh, I don't suspect that will prove to be an issue any more, Treibonus. I suspect that your career has ended as of now." "Oh great, ending up as ogre chow. Not exactly how I envisioned myself dying. No dancing girls involved," I managed to reply despite being chilled to the bone. Being a wiseacre is an full-time job after all.
Incongrously enough the old ogre stood up and twirled around. "How's that?" he asked as his sons and the dog all looked goggle eyed at him. "You're a little long in the tooth for my tastes frankly and I prefer bigger tits on my dancing girls." He threw his head back and laughed the hearty laugh of the insane villain, "So you're probably wondering why I lured you here today."
To be continued.
Oliver
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