Post by jedirex on Sept 30, 2010 12:44:46 GMT -5
Here it goes,
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Grober Gasher, or Mr. Gasher as his friends called him, was just putting down his steaming cup of tea when the doorbell rang. Now, Mr. Gasher was not very surprised at this. For you see, Mr. Gasher was the mayor of the small town of Baste Ville, which happened to be named after his great-great aunt. In Baste, as most people called it, everyone was related to each other in some way. So naturally everyone was treated with equal rights as if everyone were of the same family.
There was only one person who had no relation to anyone. His name was Stride Dragorn. Most people kept a distance from him, as he was of the “unusual western type”. One thing that bothered most people was that his first name and last name started with two different letters. It was the custom of the Bastes to name their Younglings with a name that matched their last name. Stride lived at a house at the end of town, where he settled down to spend the rest of his days.
When Mr. Gasher opened his door he was surprised to see Stride huddling under his umbrella. As soon as Mr. Gasher had opened the door Stride ran in, threw down his umbrella, and sat himself into Mr. Gasher’s favorite chair. Mr. Gasher shut the door, dried off Stride’s umbrella, and sat down on the other chair. “Chilly night,” Stride noted. He picked up the now warm cup of tea and took a long drought. Mr. Gasher walked over to his desk where he took his pair of spectacles. When he sat down again he was all business.
“Yes, it is a chilly night.” Said Mr. Gasher as he took a pen out of his left pocket. He took a pad of paper from off the small circular table in front of him. His grandfather had made it seventy years ago and he was very proud of it. “So what brings you here on this chilly night?” Mr. Gasher asked. Most likely he is here to argue about our housing arrangements Mr. Gasher thought.
In fact, that was the exact reason Stride was here. Now, you must remember that the people of Baste, or the Bastes as they were called, were all six feet high. So, everyone’s house was built so that each floor was exactly seven feet high. Now, Stride had nothing against this, as he was six feet also, but it was the houses them selves that he didn’t like. For you see, to you and me their house is particular. But to the Bastes there houses were normal. Now, the Bastes loved old style houses, for they were in their Victorian age. They still used swords, horses, and carts. Carriages were sadly not created yet. The Bastes loved the earth, as most of them were gardeners. What they would do to build their houses took a while. First, they would dig a very deep hole. Then, they would build a Victorian style house from the bottom to the top. At the end, one floor was above ground, and the rest bellow ground. Now, unlike the rest of the Bastes, Stride hated far underground. Which was unfortunate, because all the houses in Baste Ville were made underground
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Its a couple more paragraphs longer...
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Grober Gasher, or Mr. Gasher as his friends called him, was just putting down his steaming cup of tea when the doorbell rang. Now, Mr. Gasher was not very surprised at this. For you see, Mr. Gasher was the mayor of the small town of Baste Ville, which happened to be named after his great-great aunt. In Baste, as most people called it, everyone was related to each other in some way. So naturally everyone was treated with equal rights as if everyone were of the same family.
There was only one person who had no relation to anyone. His name was Stride Dragorn. Most people kept a distance from him, as he was of the “unusual western type”. One thing that bothered most people was that his first name and last name started with two different letters. It was the custom of the Bastes to name their Younglings with a name that matched their last name. Stride lived at a house at the end of town, where he settled down to spend the rest of his days.
When Mr. Gasher opened his door he was surprised to see Stride huddling under his umbrella. As soon as Mr. Gasher had opened the door Stride ran in, threw down his umbrella, and sat himself into Mr. Gasher’s favorite chair. Mr. Gasher shut the door, dried off Stride’s umbrella, and sat down on the other chair. “Chilly night,” Stride noted. He picked up the now warm cup of tea and took a long drought. Mr. Gasher walked over to his desk where he took his pair of spectacles. When he sat down again he was all business.
“Yes, it is a chilly night.” Said Mr. Gasher as he took a pen out of his left pocket. He took a pad of paper from off the small circular table in front of him. His grandfather had made it seventy years ago and he was very proud of it. “So what brings you here on this chilly night?” Mr. Gasher asked. Most likely he is here to argue about our housing arrangements Mr. Gasher thought.
In fact, that was the exact reason Stride was here. Now, you must remember that the people of Baste, or the Bastes as they were called, were all six feet high. So, everyone’s house was built so that each floor was exactly seven feet high. Now, Stride had nothing against this, as he was six feet also, but it was the houses them selves that he didn’t like. For you see, to you and me their house is particular. But to the Bastes there houses were normal. Now, the Bastes loved old style houses, for they were in their Victorian age. They still used swords, horses, and carts. Carriages were sadly not created yet. The Bastes loved the earth, as most of them were gardeners. What they would do to build their houses took a while. First, they would dig a very deep hole. Then, they would build a Victorian style house from the bottom to the top. At the end, one floor was above ground, and the rest bellow ground. Now, unlike the rest of the Bastes, Stride hated far underground. Which was unfortunate, because all the houses in Baste Ville were made underground
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Its a couple more paragraphs longer...