What's all this barmy stuff?
Want to find out what has been forgotten in the Styx?
Not enough barminess for you?
Barmy Spotlight of the Week
Factol's Manifesto, page 41.
Evil Modron Clone, with Mallet Attachment, of Modron Death. The Doomies, ever on the look out for the entropy, heard of these people that went around blowing up mountains and made evil contraptions with names like 'blender' and 'toaster', and decided they had to sign them up. Thus where the first tinker gnomes invested into the Dommguard ranks, and on being asked how to solve the little problem of getting a large square modron in a small can shape, they lept to the task. Thus was created this modron clone, a rickety thing of wires, pulleys, and smoke stacks that could be operated by two gnomes sitting in it's three by three foot box. Painted with a happy quadrone face on the front, it was planned to be able to walk in the march freely, inconspicuously having a giant mallet attached to it's top. It would of worked too, but when a rogue modron visted the Armoury to buy some square spiky armour bits, the gnomes got a bit excited about 'beta testing it', that they ended accidentally flattening the clone itself, causing an explosion that knocked them half way across Sigil in a giant coin flip.
"Three, four, or five bloody dimensional - I don't
care, berk, that bloody snake is sodding barmy dimensional, that's what it
"Watch, Ladys and Berks, as I pull more and more
scaled body from this Abramie! Nothing up this sleave, nothing up the
other, nothing in it's mouth! Look, and behold!"
Possibly one of the barmier creatures that makes its home on the planes, the Abramie has infinity and time all tied up into one little bundle, most often in a knot as it sits there looking silly. The length of the Abramie, you see, curls up into itself and into other times and dimensions and other bizarre things, and if you tried untangling it's scaly coil, you'd just keep pulling and pulling - for bloody sodding forever. From a distance it looks like an average snake, a light tan with spotted skin and coiled up, but on closer inspection it's always possible to see that the Abramie has itself tangled up into a bizzare lump - allot like how an old rope left in the shed will always tangle itself around the rake - a heap that always seems to fold back on itself and no tail to be seen. How the creature moves is a bit of a mystery, but it must manage somehow, probably just by tangling itself across the ground. It seems to get around though, as it's been spotted on most of the Outlands and about every other plane which has nice rocks it can warm itself on, and inevitably gets tangled on.
The strangest chant about this creature though is it's body seems coil back through time, and if a berk where to pull enough of the Abramie's scaly hide out of the tangle there would be ice covered scales from an ice age or even scar marks from some ancient fiendish creature. This has got some of the archeologically minded Guvners, and even a few stuffy historians, practically hopping through portals so fast that there funny hats and spectacles fall off in order to get a look at this strange creature, and what mysterious can be, well, pulled and unraveled from it. They say they've actually managed to scratch messages on the snake's skin while it sleeps, and pull them back out in the past or possibly the future. Needless to say the Guvner's tend to grin madly as they pull these messages of their's out of the tangled heap even before they've wrote them. The historians though are mostly interested in how much they can pull from a Abramie, and thus see the affects the millennia have had on it's spotted skin, but wrenching out coiled body from Abramie can be quite a feat for the wizened old men. Plus the fact that the snake tends to wake up and inconveniently move or hiss and has to be repeatedly hit on the head with a large mallet. The recording task of this great find is also compromised when a few mad Guvners, you know who they are, start to play jump rope with the length of snake already pulled out.
The ecology and the lifestyle of the Abramie are little known, but it seems to mostly just enjoy sitting on nice sunny rocks and bathing it's nice tangled body. It doesn't hunt for food much, a meal will practically last it forever as it starts it's journey from small rodent to slightly digested time traveler. The snake has few predators, as anything trying to eat it just looks silly as it tries to keep slurping up snake that dangles from it's chin. All in all the Abramie lives a nice infinite life, occasionally usurped by mad archeologists beating it on the head with a rock.
on the Gatehouse Wall, Second Market of Decadre
There is a frog in my mind. Ever wonder why they're always calling us sodden Bleakers 'melancholy'? I mean, 'wretched' I could understand, no point to that word and it sounds like a bubbers just got sick, or even 'depressed' has a nice pointless ring too it, like the chittering of cockroaches in the hive. But melancholy? Mellonkollie!? Doesn't it just grade on the nerves? Does some berk who's depressed, has no point in his life, and owes his mind to the factions, jink to Takers, and corpse to The Dead, go around saying "I'm bloody melonchollyyyy!" I didn't think so. What's the word mean even? Some bloody Guvner will say something about black vile stuff, but does that what it conjure in your mind? No! It sodding conjures pictures of happy rolly Arcadian watermelon, that's what it does! Do you, sod, feel like a happy round fruit when someone calls you melancholy? Mmm, mmm?
All content copyright 1999 Jeremiah Golden or credited authors.