It is said that once three wise Dwarves, wearing reasonably well-used mining gear but whose hands looked as though they hadn’t swung a great deal of hammers lately, were in a place of provender and commerce.
Jak said: “Tell me, today, what is good.”
Kai said: “Good is good. I know it when I see it, feel it, and do it.”
Jak said: “Other people are not idiot and you’re not entirely stupid. Come engage in this discussion. Goodness is a complicated quality and your simplistic approach may not be correct.”
Kai said: “Are you aware of the nearest wrestling mat?”
Jak said: “I remind you that I believe all approaches may be incorrect. I mean no personal disrespect to your views, idiotic though they are.”
Max said: “I have said this before, and I shall say it again: if the two of thou wish to be betrothed, go work upon that project with vigor. Otherwise, Kai, you have sat down at the table of scholars. You know why we sit here. We shall purchase the an overstuffed poppet and a straw-mushroom soup with cloven peppers, and a glass of the terrible ale they serve at this place. Talk to us.”
Thus it was that Jak came to smile. “Who’s paying?” he said.
Max said: “And thou, this table shall purchase thee some of the grey-wheat toast thou insist upon having at mealtimes, and three of the ridiculous stimulant beverages thou seemeth to love so much.”
“You want me to get this, or you got this?” asked Kai.
Max said: “I shall, for myself, consume that selfsame sandwich I get every time we come here.”
“I came here to debate the larger meaning of life, but if all you want to do is bicker, we’ll do it this way:
“If, over lunch, Jak cannot tell if his lunch is good or bad because you truly think neither exists, and Kai has no opinions on the goodness of his lunch, how it might be improved, how it might be changed…”
“…then I’ll pay for lunch and do all the talking, because you clearly have nothing to say.”
II.
Twenty-seven hours later, one keg of ale, two bottles of The Very Particular Absinthe, and enough fodder to feed an army of Goblins (or approximately 3/5ths of a Hobbit wedding) the three of them realized they would never pay the bar bill on their own, and invited a number of fellow scholars to come along as long as the ‘split the tab’.
III. Thus it was that the Book The Dwarves Wrote For The Creator-God P’tah came to be written by the Dwarves, but the publishing rights accrue in perpetuity to The Inn of the Frog & The Thyrsus from now until all perpetuity or until that bar bill is paid, or the World is destroyed in some cataclysm, whichever comes first.
I. How’s that Cataclysm machine coming, friends?
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