THE MAN INSIDE A TREE KWIZ ANSWER
Thurlmo was a lesser wizard, in point of fact an extremely lesser wizard indeed.
Thurlmo was a lesser wizard, in point of fact an extremely lesser wizard indeed.
To prepare this sandwich you will need the following:
4 prunes
2 whole salamanders
pinch of salt
croissant
Halve the croissant lengthwise and set aside. Arrange the prunes to your satisfaction on any flat surface. Ignore the salamanders until further notice. The pinch of salt should be worried into a small pile, then forgotten. Retrieve the bottom half of the croissant and bring it into the field of play. Pat prunes into place, making a row of them along the croissant. Pay attention to the salamanders now. Take them in hand and pass them lightly over the prunes. Subsequent to this, open the screen door and release the salamanders into the wild. Return to your work area and forcefully press the halves of the croissant together. Serve with tap water, a paperback novel, and a stern warning.
‘Pardon my giraffe,’ said Edgar.
‘Why did that funny man say “Pardon my giraffe”, Mommy?’ said Clarissa.
‘Never mind, darling. Hurry along now,’ said Clarissa’s mother.
Edgar continued wandering along the street, bumping into walls, windows, and the occasional parking meter.
‘Say, pal, watch where you’re going,’ said a night watchman on his way to work and narrowly avoiding a collision with Edgar.
‘Pardon my giraffe,’ said Edgar, and he staggered on.
Eight weeks passed.
A man stepped over Edgar’s legs, extended as they were out onto the sidewalk.
‘Pardon my giraffe,’ mumbled Edgar.
A constable familiar with Edgar appeared on the scene.
‘Edgar, what are you doing? Your giraffe was pardoned long ago,’ said the constable.
‘Oh, good,’ said Edgar, a smile further damaging his already ruined face.
Edgar, content, held on grimly to that smile.
I have been working for years on this 105,000 words long thing called THE GIANT: A Once Upon A Time Story Of California And Nevada.
It starts like this:
A little man with a flowing white beard wears a dunce cap.
The dunce cap is red.
The little man sits on a stool in the corner of an otherwise empty room.
The room is a wooden cube.
It has no windows.
It has no apparent exit.
The little man is a gnome.
What is this?
A novel?
No.
What then?
I don’t know. I just work here.
Words rush about in the little man’s head.
They gather to cling in groups for protection.
It starts.
THE JESTER’S TALE
Arthur and the Giant
By Arthur Peckham
The Concept
A pair of monologues and one page of definitions. That’s all. The first monologue is 45000 words long, the second a less horrific 4000. If you find yourself able to vault the formidable casting hurdle, with which I will try to provide assistance for you in the following notes, then you must decide whether to push through the entire piece in one grueling marathon performance or to split it into a two night production. I recommend the latter, in concern for the health, mental and physical, of your lead actor. One night is a joke. It would be a day and well into a night. Only an audience of ultra-marathoners and tri-athletes could sit through it. But I wrote it anyway. I had to. Who am I kidding? It will never be performed. It can’t be performed. It’s impossible. Nevertheless.
Though not his only dynamiting outfit, it was his favorite.