“Why are you here, Vaarg,” I stated flatly.

  “I thought you would want me here,” he blinked, false hurt in his voice.

  I knew it was fake because I knew Vaarg. No one else would be able to tell, as evidenced by Mrs. Blurtz.

  “Beeg,” she gasped, “that’s no way to treat your manager who so kindly came here to support ya’!”

  Vaarg nodded sagely in agreement.

  “Why, I don’t think I ever had a manager who cared so much!”

  “Right,” I responded dryly.

  It also irritated me to admit I was; in fact, glad he was here… just in case something went wrong.

  Like the book squeezing me so hard I passed out. Whatever that meant.

  “Beeg! Stupid likes your new pants!” Stupid chimed in.

  I looked down and froze in mortification. I had been so upset I forgot to hang out of my sleeping pants.

  So I was now wearing plaid flannel under my cloak, tucked into my knee height (holey) boots.

  I think… I think I actually just wanted to cry.

  Instead, I spouted nonsense.

  “These are my magic pants,” I blurted. “I need them to help with the remodel.“

  Mrs. Blurtz looked decently impressed.

  Stupid nodded happily, as if that made sense.

  It snickered.

  Vaarg raised an eyebrow.

  I wanted to go home. Except… I already was home.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I sighed.

  ____

  Never before had she been so excited. Well, maybe when she first opened her own place.

  But never again since then!

  Apparently he was taking this very seriously, which she greatly appreciated. Even his manager was there — heaven’s only knows why, dressed right dapper and looking the part.

  Even the other two goblins, whom she had seen before, looked the part. The man had adorned himself in a proper three-piece, and the girl had a lovely powdered-blue blouse.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Now, if only Beeg would hurry. She didn’t want to rush him, but she was just so very excited. Her own place, about to be fancy enough to stand with the best of them.

  Mrs. Blurtz could hardly wait.

  “What did he do then,” she laughed, listening to his manager Vaarg, regale her with tales of his early exploits.

  “He tried to attack a 300 year old Blathosian wood spider,” Vaarg chuckled.

  Three hundred years old! She had no idea what a Blathoisan wood spider was, but at that age it was probably as big as a horse - or even bigger!

  “I remember him returning that day, muttering something bout giant spiders,” she nodded breathlessly. “I thought ‘e was mistaken.”

  The spider was actually real! She hadn’t truly believed he was a warlock.

  Not until today, that is.

  If Vaarg himself came, it must be true.

  She would have to give him some money off rent.

  Actually, no — scratch that. He probably made plenty!

  Perhaps she should raise it?

  “Stupid sneezed the spooda away!” The girl in the blue dress chirped.

  Stupid. What a name, the poor dear.

  “Yes, I still haven’t figured out where you blasted him off to,” Vaarg responded dryly.

  “Bad spooda hurt Beeg. So bad spooda go!”

  “The spider was there before Beeg,” Vaarg huffed.

  Wait. Vaarg didn’t contradict her either.

  So the little girl, tragically named Stupid, sneezed and the spider disappeared?

  Who exactly were Beeg’s colleagues?

  “Didn’t you send him to Aisle 3, Vaarg?” the dapper goblin in the three-piece drawled. His voice wasn’t very deep, but it was silky smooth.

  Mrs. Blurtz felt herself blush.

  “Yes well, he wasn’t an official minion yet,” Vaarg gestured.

  “But boss hired him!” Stupid giggled.

  Mrs. Blurtz accidentally let slip a strangled laugh. Not even officially hired and he was already fighting spiders the size of a building.

  What a brave boy! She would have to adjust her beliefs that all humans were useless.

  She paused.

  No, she was still safe. Half-human, right? Must come from the elf side.

  Not that elves were much better, but still better than humans.

  “Ok that’s enough! Where is that boy — “

  He looked up and Mrs. Blurtz followed his eyeline, landing on the bottom of the stairs.

  She inhaled.

  He was truly dressed the part. With cloak wrapped loosely and hood up, he seemed to absorb the light around him. The wooden leg just barely visible beneath the cloak.

  “Why are you here, Vaarg,” he stated. Mrs. Blurtz felt shivers. His voice was not as smooth as the dapper goblin, but it was oh so deep.

  It was always so deep when he spoke. But now, echoing from the shadows of his hood, it was also powerful.

  Here. Here was a real, live Warlock.

  Now, she didn’t approve of foul magics. Not at all.

  But Beeg was going to use his magic to fix her place up!

  “I thought you would want me here,” Vaarg choked, hurt obvious in his tone.

  Now it might not be her place, but Mrs. Blurtz was never one to allow others to get away with unkindness.

  “Beeg,” she chided, “ain’t that no way to treat yer manager who so kindly came here to support ya’!”

  She looked back at Vaarg, who was sipping his tea to hide his hurt.

  “Why, I don’t think I ever had a manager who cared so much!” she finished.

  “Right,” was the only response to echo from the shadows of his cowl. He slowly took a step forward.

  “Beeg! Stupid likes your new pants!” Stupid screeched.

  She was tiny, but boy did she have a set of lungs.

  “These are my magic pants,” he sighed, “I need them to help with the remodel.”

  Mrs. Blurtz gasped. Now there was right proper magic! Now, she didn’t know much about magic, didn’t really know anything at all, but any magic that required special clothing must be powerful indeed!

  “Let’s get this over with,” he stated, stepping forward to take a seat.

  Mrs. Blurtz felt her heart nearly leap out of her chest.