“'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe,” Anonymous began quietly. Minion’s dreamy faces were rapt in firelight and backed by the twinkling stars of a chilly, dry Arizona night. Their spines tingled. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son!...”
EE leaned back. Hmm, Jabberwocky. Very Halloween. We should do this more often. Such a peaceful, loving group he thought as he looked from face to face round the fire. Looking beyond, EE made out the silhouette of a lone Joshua tree in the moonlight. Perfect setting for a terrifying tale, he mused. I’m glad I thought of this…
“I cain’t understand a word he’s sayin’. Can ya’ll?” 6shooter, a new minion, pierced the mood with his unwelcome nasal bray, and looked around.
“Shhh.” Phoenix hissed.
“The jaws that bite…”
“I thought he said campfire stories,” 6shooter hooted.
“Lower your voice,” someone said. Buffysquirrel leaned and gave the noisemaker a stiff elbow.
“…the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!" Anonymous intoned.
“Awe, this is stupid,” 6shooter hollered, “needs more cowboys and less jubjubs.”
“Would you please SHUT UP!” Benwah was outdone. The mood was fading fast.
“…And as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame.”
“Ahh come on!” 6shooter leapt up, “I cain’t take another second. Let’s talk cowboys.”
EE was knocked off his log and barely escaped the violent attack on the interloper. Dust clouded the hideous grunts and sounds of struggle. EE cringed. He listened, helpless, as blood-curdling yells pierced the night. Finally, the din began to subside.
Dave stepped forward, covered with dust and blood: “Master, I put his head in your trunk. What shall we do with the other pieces?”