We all know Chum. Chum the mammering, lily-livered malignancy. Chum the prating, pernicious, pribbling puttock. Chum the ill-nurtured, flap-mouthed pustule upon the nether regions of this our fair Land.

But above all, and beyond all these, is Chum the Trickster. Chum the Japer. Chum the Fool.

Gentle Reader, this be not a pretty story, but one that must be told. For an the truth not be heard, shall great woe result, for in ignorance grow the seeds of misery.

'Twas some small time ago that the fair Spit and I did assay our wits and strength against that aromatic bastion in the Deep South, to wit, The Smelly Village. Spit had overheard the T'rool Priest, a puissant and odorous individual, plotting the invasion and destruction of our fair town of Puddleby. Thus did she beseech my help in the disposal and arrangement of a group of Gentle and Courteous Exiles, for the purpose of paying a Kind and Humble Visit to this said Priest. For an we had but the chance to talk with the T'rool Priest in fair visage, and in noble array and panoply, did we feel sure that our differences could be well amended, and all brought to amity and friendship. (Upon the advice of the good Tuan, did we also make arrangements for the transport of tea, as the liking of T'rools for tea be well known to us.)

Such was our plan, and, I wit, a goodly one. For to strive to bring to friendship such enmities as doth mar our suffering Land, can be only a worthy goal, and more meet than the continuance of perpetual strife and dolour. Thus did we gather, many exile upon many, by the Town Square, and did gird our loins for to thus assay our wits and diplomatic niceties. There was, I wit, a slight disturbance caused by Ther'Anger, who did let loose an Orga Rage upon the gathered Exiles (with well-nigh perfect timing and execution I must unwillingly admit), but, having disposed of this menace, were we ready for The Courteous Stroll to the Smelly Village.

We did reckon without Chum. That name that doth bring fear and loathing to the bravest and gentlest heart. May his name ring forever in the annals of iniquity, and resound down through the ages as the foulest knave ever to have drawn breath.

Chum was prepared. He did mislike our expedition, for what reason I know not, but did prepare for our welcome an array of Bolok Cougars, Maha Ruknee, Deadly Crawlers and the like, an array the like of which had ne'er been seen in those parts. Despite our best endeavours, and fleetness of foot, we were, in short order, well disposed of. To wit, we were minced, sliced, diced, and served with a garnish of lettuce to the assembled beasts. Two only did make it as far as the Gold Pants Merchant, all others lying in unseemly disarray and squalor along the way. The cries of the wounded, the blood of the fallen, the anguished screams rending the air as Exiles were torn apart, limb from limb, by those fell beasts, and the sight of my Beloved Babajaga in such piteous manner, did curdle the very blood in my veins. Verily, did my heart and courage quail at the sounds of those poor tortured souls, for help them I could not.

And yet, though these cries would have moved a heart of stone, would have melted a heart of adamantine, and would have made the very rocks weep for pity, yet did CHUM, that dastardly, cowardly, ruttish, mewling excresence, did he stand watching the slaughter, SIPPING A MARTINI!!

I know, Gentle Reader, thou art as appalled as I, and yet do I assure thee of the truth of this foul tale. Could there exist a nature so foul, a heart so unyielding, and and temper so malign as that which we did see that night? Aye, there can indeed, but it grieves my heart to say so.

There shall be a reckoning Chum. I, Sleipnir, say this. Thou shalt yet rue the day thou didst cause such grevious mayhem, and I shall yet teach thee a lesson in courtesy to thy very great advantage.

Until then, Chum the Trickster, arroint thee hence.

Sleipnir (a humble knight of great heart)
Fellowship of the Red Quill 

Upon reading the above missive, the Trickster Chum was moved to reply in the following manner.

All this from the guy who's going to teach me a lesson in manners?!

[story about how the fighter of small mind and his friends took to hunt in an area which far outbattled them, snipped]

Um... I *LOVE* your expedition, Sleip! Any expedition that includes the fair lady Babajaga gets two thumbs up from me! (Yeah, yeah. The peanut gallery yells "favourtism", like I care...)

I gotta tell you, old man, I think you've got the wrong "trickster" (who me?! ;), this time. I would never attempt to thwart your expedition. Indeed, I enjoy listening the tales upon your return (the ones that don't blame every ill-fated event on me, that is <g>)

I'm sorry that you got yourselves bashed around, but I assure you that I keep no pets of the calibur you describe. I can barely keep a goldfish for more than 4 weeks (where *DO* you put them when you're emptying the bowl, anyway?!)

I *WAS* moved, and that's why I came to visit and keep you company, whilst you waited for rescue. I even offered to call for your rescue, if I recall, but you seemed to think you had things under control!

I do apologise to the fair Baba, for I had not realized that she enjoyed martinis, and I was so concerned with making sure y'all were in good spirits that I didn't even think to offer her (or any of you) a sip of mine.

But, as I am no healer, and since Mai took my weapon oh, so long ago (she said I was too violent. I have since learned my lesson, hence don't need my weapon back), I'm afraid that the only "assistance" I'm capable of offering is that of company. And next time, some of my drink. Remind me, if I'm so callous as to forget again...

I gotta tell ya, Sleip -- this "knight" stuff, you're new to it, right? I mean, you seem a nice enough guy and all, and I understand you're not a bad fighter, but you seem a bit quick on the draw, fast to take offense, and wont to point fingers. Not really very "knightly" behaviour, now, is it? (Dare I make the same accusation caused by one Urgelt, and place before our friend a challenge to prove himself worthy of the title? Hmmm... No, methinks we'll wait to see if he comes to fair play, as one can hardly blame the small-minded for lashing out during times of distress.)

Consider me arrointed ;)

"FORE!"

In short, I, Sleipnir had been shown once more to be knight of hasty temper and imperfect courtesy. I did apologise humbly to Chum, who was gentlemanly enough to visit me in the pool room in the hive to reconcile our differences, and reestablish a mutual respect. Sketches of this event can be seen above.