17
" What, may I inquire, sir, do you plan on doing with the commander?" asked Lewis.
Frank eyed the corpse. "I don't know. In a normal situation like this we usually just bury the human. But this isn't a normal situation."
"Mother had a smashing recipe for human soup," said Martin.
"Dear brother," countered Lewis, "though I loved Mother's cooking every bit as much as you, I really must point out the impropriety of eating a superior officer. It simply isn't done."
"Of course, Martin. It was merely a recollection, not a suggestion. "
― , In the Company of Ogres
18
" Sound the call to attention,” Ned told the bugler.
The goblin put the instrument to his lips, but after a pause he lowered it. “What’s that sound like? I forget.”
Ned strained his memory. It’d been a while since he’d heard it himself. “I think it goes da-da-da-dum, da-dum, da-dum, dum-dum-da-dee.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but that’s the dismissal song,” said Frank. “Call to attention has more pep. Da-dee-da-dee, dum-dum-dee-dum, dee-dee, I believe.”
“I thought it was more like dee-dee-dee-dee, dum-dum-dee-, dee-dee-doh,” said Gabel.
“You’re both wrong,” countered Regina. “It’s dum-dum-dee-dee, dum-dum-dee-dum.”
“That’s the orcish wedding march,” said Gabel. “Call to attention has more ooomphh.”
“What’s ooomphh?” asked Frank.
“It’s half the pep,” said Gabel, “and about three-quarters more pizzazz.”
“There’s no pizzazz in the call to attention,” said Regina, “and if you ask me, he’s already overdoing the pep.”
The insulted bugler balked. “My pep is always dead-on, I’ll have you know. My pizzazz is nearly perfect. I’ll grant you my ooomphh isn’t always on target, but I’d say a touch more shebang and a healthy dose of zing is what’s required here. I could throw in a little wawawa as well. That never hurts.”
“There’s no place for wawawa in legitimate military music,” said Regina.
“Yes,” agreed Gabel. “Just stick with the ooomphh.”
“No shebang either?” said the bugler.
“I guess you could put in a little shebang,” said Gabel, “but if I even hear one note of wawawa I’ll have you thrown in the brig.”
Though small, the bugler’s slight chest was mostly lungs, and he unleashed a long blast of musical improvisation. The discordant tune filled the citadel. The orcs and goblins nodded along appreciatively, while everyone else covered their ears. The powerful sound floated all the way to the roc pens where the giant birds proceeded to tear at each other in panicked alarm. Caught up in the performance, the bugler kept on playing until Ned gave the order to stop, and Regina yanked away his instrument.
The sweaty bugler gasped. “How was that?”
“Too much zoop,” said Frank.
“Not enough zing,” added Gabel.
“No bop at all,” said Regina.
The goblin snatched back his bugle. “Everybody’s a critic. "
― , In the Company of Ogres
