"And didn't he create something that helped you do something with your crops? Make it grow faster or make it easier to harvest or something?" (( if you say "crops" then you gotta say "them", if you want to say "it" then you gotta say "crop".... *LOL* ))
"So, how dare you accuse him of being evil!" Bags' voice rose again. "How dare you! When he did nothing but live his live (( life?? ))in his little work shed, alone, and invented things to make your lives easier! How dare you!"
"Yeah, sure," Bags retorted, snorting as he did. "But after you spoke out, you did nothing. Nothing! All it takes for evil to take root is for good men, like you, to do nothing!" Bags spat on the ground below and bent to sit on the top bale of hay. "I don't think I want to be your king," he said quietly. "I really, really don't. I think I liked it better when I as ((was??))exiled."
"By god and goddess, Bags!" Now it was a Bejay's voice yelling. "It should tell you that this pack of people," she swung her stick around to indicate the crowd around her, "are like a bunch of children! You're like their damned daddy, you damned idiot, and Grizelda is like their damned mommy! So they picked on your friend, called him names. So what? They were scared of him, Bags! What do you expect? He never really came out of his little hidey-hole, never really got to know anybody here. He just stayed in his little shed and kept to himself, being all weird and godlike. To these morons, it was easy to believe he was a demon. It was easy to believe he could never be one of them. He never tried."
*blink blink*
Oh my!
*glances over at the author and wonders where that came from and how he feels about it*
Part II
(( if you say "crops" then you gotta say "them", if you want to say "it" then you gotta say "crop".... *LOL* ))
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"So, how dare you accuse him of being evil!" Bags' voice rose again. "How dare you! When he did nothing but live his live (( life?? ))in his little work shed, alone, and invented things to make your lives easier! How dare you!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Yeah, sure," Bags retorted, snorting as he did. "But after you spoke out, you did nothing. Nothing! All it takes for evil to take root is for good men, like you, to do nothing!" Bags spat on the ground below and bent to sit on the top bale of hay. "I don't think I want to be your king," he said quietly. "I really, really don't. I think I liked it better when I as ((was??))exiled."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"By god and goddess, Bags!" Now it was a Bejay's voice yelling. "It should tell you that this pack of people," she swung her stick around to indicate the crowd around her, "are like a bunch of children! You're like their damned daddy, you damned idiot, and Grizelda is like their damned mommy! So they picked on your friend, called him names. So what? They were scared of him, Bags! What do you expect? He never really came out of his little hidey-hole, never really got to know anybody here. He just stayed in his little shed and kept to himself, being all weird and godlike. To these morons, it was easy to believe he was a demon. It was easy to believe he could never be one of them. He never tried."
*blink blink*
Oh my!
*glances over at the author and wonders where that came from and how he feels about it*
(((((( huge quilty hugs )))))))))))
Well done, little brother! Well done!
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*bursts into tears again, only much bigger this time*
YAY!!!!! *wild applause* *stomps feet* *whistles*
*huge stoopid grin on her face with glistening eyes*