Ah, poor Rocko.

How ever did you get caught up in this mess? That foolish... Ga.. Glo... Gaston? Globbo? Eh, his name no longer matters.

Those pesky villagers, asking you so relentlessly about where he is at. All because someone apparently saw you leave with him. Don't people have better things to do?

Rocko's face contorted in multiple different ways, as he bandied his head and hands about in many different directions. He was accosted by a middle-aged woman, whose apron was powdered in a fine flour and apricot mix, and a lumbering if not scrawny gentleman with a brown lumberjack beard and a red-and-black pleated button down shirt. Sans the buttons, of course.

But why do red-and-black, pleated, button-down shirts have to be sans the buttons? Is that a requirement for lumberjacks? Who made this rule? Why is it that - Oh, right, Rocko is in the middle of explaining why he didn't come back with the Glob.

Good work Rocko, keep on focusing on the important details!

"- Glondo want eat berries, Rocko let Glondo eat berries! Must come home, grandma said so!" Rocko desperately tried to explain, using his his silvered gobliny tongue, oh what a well-versed goblin he is! Making such an effort to answer these unfounded inquiries from those petulant human folk. Focused on just the important facts too.

"But why wouldn't you have come back with him?! Where is he? Where are these berries?? Its getting dark, and my poor boy must be starving for dinner by now!" The woman rocked about, much as these excitable folk are wont to do. All unnecessary and unimportant questions. Who told them Rocko left with... him? Oh Rocko, you should always remember to keep your... energetic goblin eyes and dignified goblin ears open for nosy neighbors. Nobody likes a nosy neighbor!

"We won't get a straight answer out of him, Samantha! That's it, we are taking you to the lodge." Compared to Rocko, the scrawny lumberjackmanperson was a veritable giant, grabbing poor old Rocko with those vicious meaty claws of his and dragging him of to... the lodge. He hardly gave him a chance to retort again in his own defense! Of course, Rocko protested most respectfully, gurgling and hissing like a gentleman the whole way along.

It seems a small crowd of spectators gathered along as well, treating poor Rocko as if he were some kind of amusementshoweventthing. Through the sandy paths of the village they went, before arriving at a most imposing building... what with its tall glass windows, sliding glass doors and gargantuan palmed trees lining the path up to it, all coconutted with coconuts.

Through the unadorned glass were numerous tables to be seen, some with chass boards and others with cherkers and various other games and condiments of human amusementstuffs. Of course the walls were classily adorned with many a stuffed creatures' head, and there were some most pleasant of booths along the wall, with old oakern wood and well-worn cushions. Mounted on the wall of each booth were some exciting instruments of various sorts, like the ye olde edition crossbows of yore or the fully-automatic one-hundred-and-fifty-nine caliber eighteen BG Muskettington musket.

A good year that was, somehow everything produced AG just never was quite as good. Such a shame.

Oh, right, it seems they drug Rocko all the way to table with a few Grandma's playing cards! And... oh dear, it seems it is that dastardly Barbra! You can tell by that stank of hers. And granny Smotrich too?! Oh my, Rocko, I guess you took longer at the spring than you thought. And it seems there is another pair of Grandmas there as well, all of them with their hands full of colorful cards. Some have numbers, some have symbols, some have symbols and numbers! Oh, and so many colorful cards too!

"Draw four Mabel, and the color is now... Red!" Grandma Smotrich laughed in her most grandmotherly laugh, so sweet and kind with the corners of her lips extending just below the bottom of her eyelids and that resonating sharpness flowing through ones ears with all the grace of a certain pleasant green lady from... well, somewhere over the rainbow, one could suppose.

Ah, Mabel was most nonplussed at this arrangement, as she began pulling additional cards to join the steadily growing pile in her hand.

"Granny Mabel, Granny Mabel... Oh Granny Mabel, my boy Glondo hasn't come home, and we are sure this creature had something to do with it!" That Samanthaly woman rushed to the table in the midst of this action, drawing the grandmas' attention whilst gushing some form of liquid from here eyes as humans sometimes do for their absurd human reasons. She also pointed her finger most accusedly at our most amicable Rocko. Granny Mabel tried to peek over the tops of her horn-rimmed glasses, her marble-sized pupils quickly reduced in size when seen from some alternative angles.

"Ehhhh, whatchu' say?" Mabel 's voice danced with all the pleasantries of an unoiled, rusted hinge swinging back and forth in a breeze while lightly wettened from a fresh drizzle in the late Octoberseasonmonth as the chill breeze blows a wave of browned tree leaves through abandoned birb nests.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Ohh, Mabel did you forget to turn your hearing gem on again? Ah, I play skip. Uno!" The stench was apocalyptic, even if only visible to the great Rocko. Such lines of brown and the chorus of flies surrounding them were a sure sight from that fiendish Barbra. All else of her appearance must be a disguise, as one could tell from how only Rocko recoiled.

Mabel's largess was a sure match to that of... they just said it... it was called... Glondo! Yes, even though it somehow skipped a generation, as largess can sometimes do. It was nowhere to be found on that Samantha ladyperson. As Mabel raised her bountious hand with her well-insulated fingers to her ear, Grandma Smotrich pondered aloud. "Why, I don't recall such a creature. Did we have a Glondo around here?" She crooned heartily.

"What?! How could you say that about our son?!" The man boldly interjected, his name unknown to all. Nor would he have a chance to become named, as the quiet old woman in the fourth seat unleashed a terrible wave of dark grandma energy. She may have been short, her hair matching her stature and adorned with all the curly curls and whitest of strands of Grandma hair, but she was certainly dignified. Even amidst the powerful flow of wind, she evoked a most peaceable of smiles through the wrinkles of her high-boned cheeks. The wind may have caused her white floral dress to dance around and show off her well-worn soft blue slip-on walkers, yet it had no effect on their cards.

"How dare you argue with a Grandma?" She took her finger and wagged it towards the man, as the crowd held their breaths in unison, watching as if enraptured.

"Uno out!" Grandma Smotrich declared, a wide smile on her face as she placed another red card atop the red "skip". "Seems that vacation is mine!" She cackled on.

The Grandmotherly smile on the unknown Grandma twitched ever so slightly. "But... you never called Uno." She retorted.

"Oh no Nana, you're right! But... you all surely saw I only had one card left? You could have called me out at any time and I would have had to draw more cards, according to the rules?" Granny S replied ever so sweetly, fluttering the countless hairs adorning her upper eyelids as she certainly did not have a smug smile on her smug... ah, sweet and toned grandma face.

"Such a shame... if it wasn't for that distraction over such nonsense, why, that vacation with a grandson would be mine. You know, if I recall, Samantha was a young, single, childless woman, no?" Nana conjectured thoughtfully.

"What?! I..." Samatha started, and suddenly stopped, her body quaking as the few lines on her face disappeared, some strange cracking noises were heard and her body perked up with all the natural youth of a young and healthy twenty-something year old girl. She looked around confused for a moment, before smiling and standing up, wiping away the last of her sniffles and tears on a handkerchief. "Oh my, Grandma Mabel, it appears I was crying. Oh, you know how my emotions get to me sometimes!" Samatha declared, a large smile straining on her face as she whooshed around and was about to stride out the door.

"Oh, don't forget to take Rocko with you and apologize! You were so mean to him, and such younglings like yourselves should get along!" Granny S smiled her grandmotherly smile, flexing the countless hair-covered muscles in her face.

"Heeeeeh, what'd I miss?" Mabel asked, after twiddling around for a moment with the large gem in her ear.

"Betty just won the vacation, Mabel." Barbra grimaced a woeful grimace, evoking every ounce of pity her stinky conniving derelict and utterly repulsive face could manage.

"Oh Sassafras!" Declared Mabel. "Best two out of three or it doesn't count!"

Samatha's muscles twitched unconsciously, as she turned and grabbed Rocko by the arm and pulled him along with her. He never did get a chance to get a word in edge-wise. It was certainly for the best, Rocko!

Although he still looked so confused, as if he was missing something? Oh, Rocko! You need your stats too!

Ding!

The message dinged as it always had before.

However, a new screen popped up without any prompting. Although there was the odd chain of small droplets of liquid falling back through the screen as they proceeded.

Name: Rocko McGoblino Smotrich Class: Grandson Stats:

Cha: Very High, So Eloquent, Much Speech, wow

Str: Gobliny

Dex: Probably good, you're a goblin

Con: Probably low, you're a goblin

Int: 9

Wis: At least wise enough to keep your mouth shut when your enemies are making a mistake, so... 13?

Spells: Hmmmm..... Skills: Do a Barrel Roll: 1/5 Barrels Rolled Level: 2

Enemies:

Grandma Barbra Winkleheimer and her army of Grandsons, Grandma Mabel, Samantha

Friends(?)

Samantha, Stoneo

Oh, you probably should check this message too, Rocko.

WARNING: NANA IS WATCHING YOU.

Rocko made a rather hard to describe sound at that message too. It'll be fine, Rocko! You. Don't. Need. To. Worry. Rocko.

Rocko finally began to calm down again. Not that the fluid leak from Samantha stopped. Oh, and when are you going to make Rhubarb pie again, Rocko? Goblins love their Rhubarb pie, isn't that right?