Twelve-Anne Stradivari banged a newly purchased gavel against the surface of a newly purchased table in a room of people with priceless friendships.
“Hank’s money-making department has had something of a successful week.” she said, “This is to say that we now have money.”
The Quest Committee stood for a round of applause.
“He has told me that he has been able to absorb the company responsible for creating The Local Game Show into ours, which is how we plan to fund every future project we take on. This brings me to Babe ‘The Autumn Tradesman’ Listowel, who says he has an idea for one such project.”
“I have been informed by my intuition,” Babe Listowel began, “that if we slay enough dragons, we shall surely be granted the True Meaning of Feelings, and our quest shall be complete. Dawson, Sylvester and I have refined our method of besting the brutes; that being Dawson slicing off one of the dragon’s vertical edges, bears wearing away at each remaining edge, promptly followed by Dawson delivering one final blow to the dragon’s weakest side. I have drawn a diagram to correct the blank stares upon the faces of Hank’s new staff.”
Babe Listowel held up the diagram, pictured in figure 1.
One of Hank’s subordinates stood to speak. “Hello, my name is pretty much Ethanol Silverspool. I’m the receptionist for The Local Game Show, among other things. I think that the Autumn Tradesman’s slaying method is swell and all, but I bet we could bolster our efficiency beyond human comprehension if we merged the dragon slaying department with the money-making department. Game show contestants would be told to slay the dragons for us, and we could steal any information they might gain.”
Dawson Filter replied, “That would be a pretty nifty merger; but does not darkness shroud The Local Game Show with respect to The True Meaning of Feelings? When I asked the contestants that particular meaning earlier, one of them punched me in the stomach, putting me into a three month comma.”
“Dawson Filter,” Twelve-Anne said, “you needn’t be so negative. Just remember our town’s motto, ‘Murderville: Where nothing ever seems to go wrong’.”
Dawson Filter conceded that Twelve-Anne was right. Ethanol Silverspool’s idea was funky and fresh and super legal. He signed the merger, along with everyone else in the Quest Committee; primarily for reasons. The remainder of Hank’s staff introduced themselves. Their names were Kelton McArtherstone, the tallest among them; Krillthorn Seembirth, the least extraordinary; and Barry Dextrous, the only one to give his real name. They set to work at once at writing The Local Game Show’s revised ruled. Contestants would be taken to the outskirts of Murderville, Nevada; and told to slay a dragon by any means necessary. Barry Dextrous would continue to host the show; and the prize for victory would continue to be two coupons to the restaurant of the sponsor’s choice, under the condition that the contestants tell Barry of any true meanings that might pop into their heads as they slay. Ethanol Silverspool was given the position of Chief Dragonmaster, which pleased her more than wood itself, and Krillthorn Seembirth would be official helper.
The conference was over. It was over, if you prefer pronouns. I must say that I do; I am a pronoun, after all. And although it was over, Dawson Filter, Sylvester Denny, Twelve-Anne, Babe Listowel, Ethanol Silverspool, Hank the Embezzler, Kelton McArtherstone, and Barry Dextrous’ lives were just getting started.