Posted by Vita on September 18, 1998 at 18:26:41:
Ring Ring ring....
Cry! Cough... Cry!
Yo, English Trader!
My dearest lord Sir English Trader,
Where in the blazes are you?
The D.T and the F.T. are knee deep into their best trading
complott and subsequent success, ever, and you are lost in the
has no one yet given you any orders worthy of your venturing into the
sharks and five-toed amoebas infested territory of LOTMLand?
Listen, let me make a deal with you:
My fellow highly esteemed and genteel LOTMers are also el-cheapos
of the highest order, so far, not one single of them has offered to
chip in for an attire suitable for my high position of TowneCryer.
Never mind that none of them offers me not a crumb of fuuuudddgggeee, carrier-pidgeon pie,hunkk of goatfoot roast, slab of stewed Joe's
Horse, and get a hold of this, not even a cuppa tea to moisten my throat sore from all me crying to high heavens!
so, my dear E.T., what say you to selling ... uh.... donating me
a uniform, megaphone (from just a frogleeap away in the 20th Century)
and a fancy hat with a cocky feather jauntily tucked at the side of its wide brim?
If you are willing to contribute to this charitable cause, please
holler, holler real loud, for me ears are gone deaf from listening
to my lone shouts in the darknesss....
Your ever so faithful 1-person welcoming committee,
ye olde TowneCryer
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