Stories From The Head

The Unfaithful Goblin "Tøpen, old mate! Long time, no see. What's cooking? How is Flæpy these days?" Tøpen just stood there. First of all he wasn't cooking anything. Secondly, he didn’t know anyone by the name of Flæpy (except his father). And last, but not least, he'd NEVER, EVER seen the tiny goblin standing in front of him before. "So, Tøpen, what's it gonna be?" asked the goblin. That was the last drop. Tøpen couldn't control himself anymore. He killed the goblin, married his daughter, and bought a small bee-keeping farm in the northern province of Zhyszht (pronounced Klæ’têc which is virtually unpronounceable, so everyone called it Füth). Being married to a goblin wasn't exactly Tøpen’s idea of a holiday. They had no money and hundreds of repulsive children (goblins never gave birth to less than 37 at a time, and Tøpen was a real stud). The bees in the farm weren't really bees, but a different breed of honey-makers called køtter. Now, this came as a bit of a disappointment to Tøpen, his goblin wife and their children, because køtter were 3 ft tall and not unlike the creatures we refer to as cats (pink, three heads and an enormous torso). But the honey was good, and the weather in Füth was excellent. One day, Tøpen's goblin wife packed her suitcase, painted the children galtres, killed all the køtter, and travelled to distant and exotic destinations. Tøpen never heard from her again. Neither did Flæpy...

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