“Peppenise Magellan Lightfuse! What did I say about spell-tinkering? 313 More Words
“Peppenise Magellan Lightfuse! What did I say about spell-tinkering?”
Pep hated when her father used her middle name. One, she was sure it was a boot-licking apprentice mechaneer’s boys name. Two, she had enough syllables in her first name already. And three, she knew it meant she was in trouble.
“Don’t” replied Pep.
“Why I oughta invent a repeat-o-bot if I have to say this again. And this time, with a rubber hammer slash red stamp contraption to ink it on yer forehead if you forget!”
Tirock lowered his neon goggles from his forehead to his eyes and continued to revise his blueprints. Pep wasn’t sure if they did anything. Or how it could possibly help to read the white diagrams lettering off the blue sheets. She was certain though, that her father felt really smart while he wore them.
She carefully dusted off the binding of the tome she dared to read and slid it carefully back into her mother’s bookshelf. Her mother Marim had been called to arms by the Alliance when she was too young to remember. She often writes back with stories of her campaigns in Kalimdor, and how much she misses Pep. It always seems that she will return in just another season’s time. But the Horde is again, up to no good. As usual.
A sudden vibration permeated through her living quarters, followed by an increasing rumble. Alarm-o-Bots sprung from the emergency dockets and they began to race up and down Gnomeregan. “Warning! Warning!”
Pep rushed to the windows to see that a green mist was flooding the lower levels. Gnomes ran frantically and crowded elevators while some opted to climb the pipes. Other gnomes appeared sickly and strangely enough were attacking ones who were not. And she spotted some things which appeared to be smaller than human but larger than a dwarf, yet uglier than both attacking all Gnomes alike.