Heed Not Thy Band-Aid

I dreaded writing this one, and actually put it off for a long while. I mean, the earplugs gag was easy, but Cleric is kind of a dour dwarf, so I figured his tirade against Fighter would be on the boring side. Despite my expectations I actually wound up liking it, and was disappointed to find that artistic necessity dictated that the funny bits wound up behind the banner and Fighter’s big ol’ punkin head. As such, here is the much-more-legible version of Cleric’s spiel:

By a’ th’ gods that be, man! That thing coudnae have hud mair than five or six hit points left. Ye only hud tae poke it a bit, but ye just thought it wid be funny tae light th’ inn oan fire, didnae ye? Ah dinnae care if ’twas a “great idea.” Thare wur wummin ‘n’ bairns in thare. An’ are ye sorry? Dae ye apologize? Or dae ye laugh at a’ the poor gnomes? Ye ken as weel as ah that  th’ poor wee devils uise hauf a kin o’ hairspray ilka mornin’. An’ dae ye ken whit’s bloody weel flammable?  

So…there may or may not have been an English to Scottish translator involved. You don’t want to know how long I spent agonizing over whether or not to capitalize “ah.”

 

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