From: caine@cats.ucsc.edu (Robert Joseph Salisbury)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Gaeshweir the Enchanter gives the unnamed git a piece of his mind.   
Message-ID: <36352@darkstar.ucsc.edu>
Date: 3 Jun 92 04:50:35 GMT
References: <1992Jun1.044732.13310@cs.uow.edu.au> <36288@darkstar.ucsc.edu> <1992Jun2.075440.19191@rice.edu>

In article <1992Jun2.075440.19191@rice.edu> tomscud@ruf.rice.edu (Thomas Reid Scudder) writes:
>    The man who had been quietly carving his staff and drinking goats' milk
>walks up to Gashwear and says, "May I see that please?"  Without waiting
>for a response, he snatches the wand from Gashwear's hand and examines it.

[volumes of obnoxious babbling deleted]

>when the word "zipsnort" was pronounced three times, in succession, in their
>presence, like this:  zipsnort, zipsnort, zipsnort ... Oh my, do you suppose
>anyone in here could lend some clothes to our poor friend Gashwear?  His seem
>to have disappeared."

	With a curt wave of his hand all of Gashwaeir the Enchanter's clothes
reappear, looking, if it's possible, more sumptous and resplendent than ever.
He then turns a baleful, beady gaze to the unnamed git and says:
	"Your pathetic excuse for magic impresses no one, PARLOR magician. You
are a digrace! Swilling your goats milk like an ignorant peasant, carving your
insignificant little twig.  People like you are one of the reasons I vote
for involuntary euthanasia year after year, PARLOR magician!"
	Gashweire the Enchanter pauses a moment to chortle at his own 
outstanding wit and finesse.
	"You are a blathering illusionist fit only to cure the impotency of
the barnyards breeding studs.  To assert that I, Gashweair the Enchanter,
Thrice-Born, Slayer of Icefang, Imperator of the Dulcian Magician's Guild,
member of the Brothers of Enternal Twilight, master of the wand of Ultimate
Bamboozlement, and Humiliator of PARLOR Magicians would be the possesor of
an artifact of questionable manufacture is almost as absurd as your very
existence."
	"You, sir, are a moron and I no longer wish to bless you with my
presence.  I no longer wish to converse with such a base individual as 
yourself."
	With this noble declaration, Gaoeshweir the Enchanter gets up and
departs for the table presently occupied by Kadrys, Constantine, and Lucas.