OCC: I hope you guys are taking time to read each other’s posts. Most of you write superbly. I know I’m having a ball writing this stuff!
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IC: Grumple jerked up to a sitting position, hearing voices, but that didn’t matter. Grumple was THIRSTY, and he smelled water on the other side of the group of voices. Grumple sprang to his feet, which were now too large for his half-size frame, but no matter. They propelled Mini-Grumple -- quick as a bunny -- as he scampered right past the group down the trail, and down the hill toward a nearby creek, dragging the spear.
That was not the only thing dragging along behind Mini-G. There followed a breathtaking, overwhelming stench which could well have been labeled, “Eau De Rotting-Corpse-In-Pigpen� as Grumple zipped by. The smelly, skinny, desiccated little troll dropped the spear on the bank and splashed into a pool of the creek with an enormous belly-flop. Then, sinking to the bottom, Grumple proceeded to absorb pint after pint of water through every pore of his flaccid skin.
After being underwater for three minutes or so, the now-not-quite-so-Mini-G suddenly exploded to the surface for a breath of air, and then tried grabbing fish. As usual, they were uncooperative and swam away, and Grumple managed to corner only one or two smallish ones. Feeling starved, Grumple knelt on the bank staring at the water...
...and slowly, as if the Sun were gradually dawning over a large and particularly dense chunk of rock... Grumple got An Idea into his knobby head.
Picking up The Tooth, Grumple proceeded to stab at a trout in the pool. Nailing that one on the serrated point, Grumple stabbed at another, and another. Got them too! Sometimes Grumple even managed to spear one fish on the point, and snagged another fish withdrawing The Tooth on one of nasty rear prongs. It was uncanny.
Grumple tossed each fish up in the air and with obvious relish, gulped them down whole into his enormous toothy mouth, fins, scales, and all. There were plenty of fish, so in a frenzy of excess fisherman’s luck, Grumple speared several more large ones and flipped them up onto the bank. Then for good measure, he speared a few fat frogs that were vainly attempting to hide in the mud and swallowed them, too.
Finally, with outrageously distended belly and an obvious feeling of well-being, the small but satisfied Grumple dropped his spear, waved to the friendly Bugbear up the hill, and grunted loudly, “Friend! Come! Eat Fish!�