The dwarf lords left the village in some disarray. The innkeeper bade them a fond farewell, his pockets bulging with lucre. His daughter, according to the chronicles, was enrolled in a boarding school soon after. The village was on the edge of the Land of Men, so it was not long before the dwarfs reached the border. There, they enquired of the guards how best to reach the city of the Magic Negro, but the guards informed them tersely that security concerns forbad them giving out that information, and eyed them suspiciously. 'What business could seven dwarfs wearing moose pizzles have with our Fearless Leader? Speak quickly!' one cried. 'We wish to but study his governance, as in our country we have many problems that his counsel might address', said Romni, the moat presentable of the rather bedraggled bunch.
'We mean no disrespect.' 'Well, we are not allowed to permit you to enter the Magic Negro's City unescorted, so you must find a guide.' Romni looked about him, waving away the growing cloud of flies that were drawn to the now stinking moose pizzle amulet around his neck. He noticed a shack nearby that had 'Tourist Information' printed by hand on the door. He went in, and motioned to his friends to follow him. Inside, in a low, mean room, he found several vile looking men crouched about a cooking fire. One looked up, and Haley of the Red Neck said with bravado, 'Ah'll handle these fellers. Y'all know how to git to the city of the Magic--ah--Nigra?' The man who looked up shouted to another, 'Hey Cracker you wanna he'p there dwarfs?' The man called Cracker looked up from the pot in which he was apparently trying to boil a large rat, and said, leering horribly at the sleek dwarf, 'You ain't from around here, are ya?' This Cracker was a small man with matted hair, and his grin exposed several blackened teeth. Haley of the Red Neck began to wonder whether he had acted prudently as he looked about him with growing alarm.
To be continued.
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