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Gremble Trott and Percy Blaine were guards. They'd spent a good thirty years together guarding the palace doors. The two were the best of friends or at least the best that could be afforded by having to stand next to each other for thirty years and have the same old conversations.
It isn't' that Percy hasn't been nice enough, thought Gremble, It's just that Percy's quite thick believing in and speaking endlessly about insane conspiratorial, type things. Crazy ideas he's got. Medi-cal Sci-ences and some daft thing he keeps callin' grav-i-ty. He'll get nowhere talkin' like that! He ain't even got the sense to believe in levelheaded stuff like alien abductions and Big Foot!
“See,” explained Percy for the eight quintillionth time, “Ya got this apple, right? And ya drops it on the ground, but it don't float away. Cuz' it's stuck from floatin' off by an invisible force, and that's called gra-v-ity. Right? So...”
“What?” yelped Gremble in an agitated fashion, with the same voice one uses when in the company of any zealot, “Of course it don't float off. It's magic!”
“But,” pointed out Percy, “Wouldn't floating away be magic?”
“Um yeah,” Gremble faltered, he wasn't as good at debating a point as Percy was, “It's uh... it's um... it's still magic. It's just the uh apple's way of choosin' not to use it! And that’s magic too!”
“No. See? Eb's round like a marble see? And it's always spinnin' round, and that creates...” Percy began. But as usual, Gremble left out a belly laugh, “You're daft. It can't be round. I'm standin' on it!” then Gremble stomped his foot several times and yelped, “That's flat ain't it? You ain't ever gonna get nowhere in life if ya keep hanging on to these childish ideas me boy! You'll never go further!”
“We can't go further,” Percy said sullen, “Our Dads was guards, our Granddads was guards our Great Great Granddads was guards, we're born to it ain't we? That don't change the fact that...” his voice trailed off.
Gremble paused before he looked to see what it had taken to shut the other guard up. It was something horrible more than likely as even the Invasion of The Cream, And Brandy Interlopers of 78 hadn't silenced old Percy. It was because of this terrifying thought that it took Gremble several moments to muster the courage to turn his head. But when he finally did so, he was astounded.
“Gremble?”
“Yeah?”
“Is that a flying book?”
“Yeah. Looks like it.”
“Gremble? I think it's staring at me.”
“It would appear so.”
“Gremble?”
“Yeah?”
“You was right about magic and all that. I'd guess if gra-v-ity existed, then books couldn't fly.”
“Well said. Very sensible.” Gremble remarked as the book hovered menacingly.
“Gremble?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you read the title? I'd like to know what's threatening to eat me if you don't mind.”
Gremble had never been very good at reading, writing or other schooling-type of things but he could read this title because the picture helped a lot. Gremble said “Wea....pon...s...and... ar... mor. Weapo...ns... and Ar...mor. Arm...or. Weapons and Armor I fancy it says.”
“What dya think it wants then?” asked Percy.
“I'd guess it'll be wanting our weapons and armor,” answered Gremble holding out his shield. It wavered and shrunk and then disappeared into the book. Gremble shivered watching the book suck the shield into its pages. Then the book made a hissing noise, and the sword rose to its level and was gone. Piece by piece all the weapons and helmets were ingested into the book.
“Um, Gremble?”
“Yeah, Percy?”
“Um, do you think it's bent on takin' the armor too?”
“I do believe so. Why?”
“Me underpants is metal.”
“Oh yeah. Mine too. Comes with the job I'd reckon.”
“Gremble?” Percy whined as his chain-mail shirt disappeared into the book.
“Yeah?”
“RUN!”***
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