Hello, Dear Reader; what kind of trouble can two best friends get into? For most pairs, not much, but when one is a Battleax (Greg) and the other is an Orc (Doug), it's a different kind of story.

Greg had never had a best friend. Being a Battleax, most of his friends were other Battleaxes. That wasn't so bad; his dad, brothers, and sister were family and close friends. But after meeting Doug, Greg realized what having a true best friend meant.

Doug had never had a best friend either. As an Orc, he was expected to join some campaign for a warlord or a lich king and do battle. But before he could chase glory, everything changed. He had close friends in the village who always helped each other, but this was different. Greg understood him in a way no one else did—especially their shared love of throwing things (and people).

"What do you want to do?" Doug asked.

"We need to check out the games. They may be set up and ready to play," Greg said with a tad too much excitement.

"Games? Like, pin the tail on the human'?" Doug asked with a smirk.

"Pin the what on the what?" Greg repeated, bewildered.

Doug laughed, "I'm joking. But what do you mean by games?"

"They have different games of skill at the festival," Greg explained. "You throw darts, toss rings, or throw balls into baskets."

"So, we throw things?" Doug asked, getting more excited.

"Yeah! And we can win prizes, but mostly I enjoy throwing things," Greg said.

"What kind of prizes?" Doug asked.

"I don't know, stuff. I used to win toys for my sister when we were younger. She loved getting a doll." Greg quickly added, "But don't tell her I told you that. She'd kill me."

Doug laughed, "I'll use it against you later."

"Step right up!" shouted a man from inside a booth. "You two fellas look like you need some old-fashioned fun." Greg and Doug walked over to the man. "The official festival starts tomorrow, but how about I give you two fellas a chance to win a big prize?" The man pointed to an L-shaped wooden object. "It's called a boomerang."

"It looks like a stick," Doug said as Greg nodded.

"Ah, but that's the beauty of this special prize," the man said. "You throw it, and it comes back to you."

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"Why would I want it to come back to me?" Greg asked.

Doug laughed, "So you don't have to go fetch it after you throw it."

"Yes, but you can throw it, and it will come back to hit your enemy from behind," the man said.

"Why not throw something heavy at the front of them," Doug asked.

"Hey, you can throw it, and if someone ducks, it'll come back and hit them," Greg said excitedly.

"Hey, not a bad idea," Doug said.

"Ah, right, yes, that's the spirit," The man said, "One silver per throw. All you have to do is knock down those three stacked pins with the ball. An easy task for two strong fellas like yourselves."

Greg and Doug set down one silver on the counter. They each grabbed a ball, felt the balance, and took careful aim. Both let loose at the same time, and both missed the target. They looked at each other, dropped another silver each, grabbed a ball, and threw. Both missing.

"One more time!" They both shouted together, throwing down a silver each.

The man smiled and gestured for them to continue. They both threw their balls, striking the stacked pins. Greg knocked two down, and Doug knocked the top pin off. The man set the pins back into place, and the two readied to go again.

On the next attempt, they both knocked two down, leaving one each standing. Doug let out a mighty roar, which Greg quickly echoed. Fueled by frustration, they began picking up balls as fast as possible. A crowd grew around to watch the crazy friends throw balls.

"Wait! Wait!" Shouted the man, but the two friends ignored him.

After several frantic attempts, both were left with one pin standing. They kept throwing balls to no avail until Greg stopped, focused, and took careful aim. He hit the last pin solidly, but it didn't budge. Doug looked bewildered.

"Stop!" yelled the man. "You have to let me stack them back up."

Doug glared at the man, who was beginning to get nervous. "Let me have a look at that pin."

"Well, you can't just walk in here," The man said, yet Doug did just that.

Doug pushed past the man and grabbed the pin. It was heavy. He grabbed the pins on the ground, which were not close to the weight of the standing pin. The man began to walk away, only to find his path blocked by a frowning Orc.

Greg glared at the man, "Looks like someone's cheating."

"Uh…" the man began.

"I don't like cheaters," Doug growled down at the man.

The man laughed nervously, "My mistake. I must have used the wrong pins. Uh, refund?"

"And a prize," Greg said.

"Sure, one prize," the man was interrupted.

"Each," Doug said.

The man looked up at the Orc and said, "Uh, sure. Each." He grabbed two boomerangs and handed them over with all the silver they paid.

"It comes back when thrown?" Greg asked.

The man nodded.

"If it doesn't, we come back," Doug said.

"I'm hungry; let's go see Dad," Greg said.

"Wings and ales?" Doug asked, his mood perking up.

"Hell, yeah!" Greg said, holding up his hand. Doug slapped Greg's hand.

They weren't sure why they did that, but it felt good.

—

"It's a what?" Battleax asked.

"Boomerang," Greg said.

"You throw it, and it comes back, maybe," Doug added between bites of hot wings. His brow started to bead with sweat.

"Why would you want it to come back?" Battleax wasn't happy with the idea of a weapon coming back to him. "If I throw my battleax, I want it to stay inside the person I throw it at."

"If you miss, it can come back and hit the person from behind," Greg said.

"If you miss, you work on your aim, boy," Battleax seethed, "Besides, you never miss."

"Well, uh," Greg began again.

"I guess if you throw it, it comes back, and you don't have to go get it to throw it again," Doug said, trying to help his friend.

"Oh, well, then that makes more sense. More practice throwing and less fetching," Battleax said, "Not a bad idea."