Chapter 28 Goblin Street Fight

"Master Helen's pretty, but we make it prettier!" One of the goblins cackles, rubbing his hands against the statue's surface and leaving streaks of grime in his wake.

Goblinworth yelped, "Begone rascals! Or I will slap you all silly! I will!"

Goblinworth, his arms resembling twigs more than limbs, attempted to adopt a menacing stance. His shaky legs wobbled under the weight of his own meager frame.

"Me fierce goblin warrior! Fear my... umm... umm... fear me?"

The goblin group mirrored his futile effort, each one outdoing the other in displaying their laughable lack of strength.

"No, you have to fear me, goblin. Fear my... uh... really big rock!" he pointed at the pebble next to his feet.

"Rocks are dumb! I got sharp... uh... stick! Very dangerous!" another goblin pulled a toothpick out of his pocket. 

"I crush puny pebbles with my, um, toes!" yet another announced, wiggling his toes at the ground in a futile attempt to crush the imaginary pebbles.

A next goblin chimed in, flexing his spindly arms as if they were tree branches.

"Yeah, you think that's scary? Check out these muscles! I bet even a butterfly could knock me over... Wait! That didn't come out right!"

The goblins burst into raucous laughter, their high-pitched giggles echoing through the air. The sight of their feeble attempts at intimidation was both pitiful and absurd.

Goblinworth squared his bony shoulders, attempting to muster an air of power.

"Alright, you lot! You've been causing chaos for long enough. It's time to show you some... er... menacing goblin bravado!" His voice wavered between a feeble squeak and a half-hearted growl.

The goblins exchanged bewildered glances, their beady eyes wide with confusion.

"What's he saying? Brava... what? Is goblin talking about food?" one of them muttered, scratching its knobby head.

"Yeah, yeah, menacing goblin... bravado, food? What's that, some new kind of mushroom? Sounds tasty!" another chimed in, scratching its flaky green skin with a gnarled finger.

Goblinworth's patience was stretched thin, "No, you dummies! It's about looking tough, scary, you know, like those big ogres!"

"Oh, right, right! Big ogres! I get it now! OOOOh! Ogres scary, me weak goblin fear big ogres," a goblin shouted, nodding enthusiastically.

In the midst of the chaotic scene, Goblinworth found himself squaring off against a motley crew of fellow goblins. They were a laughable sight, each one appearing more feeble and dim-witted than the last. If Goblinworth was scrawny, then these goblins were the epitome of skin and bones, like they'd been surviving on air and wishes alone.

As the so-called fight began, their actions resembled a chaotic ballet of blunders. Limbs flailed wildly, they swatted at the air with all the grace of blindfolded toddlers reaching for pinatas, resembling nothing remotely close to a punch or a jab. It was as though their arms had been replaced with lifeless noodles, flapping and slapping against each other in an absurd mockery of combat. Instead of throwing punches, they swung their arms like limp noodles, making odd wet slapping noises as hands collided with faces and bodies.

They tripped over their own feet and each other and tumbled like drunken fools in a pile of goblins. To make matters even more baffling, they resorted to using their elongated tongues as makeshift whips, lashing out at each other with wet, sloppy slaps. The air was filled with the racket of smacks, splats, and confusion as they not only attacked Goblinworth but their own as well.

Goblinworth found himself hilariously trapped in a chaotic goblin heap, his surroundings resembling a comical mountain of mischievous creatures. It was as if a goblin carnival had erupted, and he was the unwitting star of the show.

One particularly audacious goblin seized the opportunity and yanked Goblinworth's shoes off with glee, launching into a ticklish torment by licking and nibbling his toes. 

"Get ready for my secret weapon, the tongue-lash!"

Emboldened by his friend's success, another goblin joined the fray, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He swiftly took hold of Goblinworth's discarded shoes, his intentions clear and his cackling laughter contagious.

 "Fancy shoes no more! Fancy shoes no more! Goblins don't walk fancy shoes!" he chanted in a singsong manner as he wiped his dirty feet on Goblinworth's shoes.

Beside him, another goblin took a rather unconventional approach to the tickling torture, his fingers dancing over Goblinworth's other foot in an attempt to provoke fits of uncontrollable laughter.

"T-tongue lash? More like tongue flop! Watch my fingers at work! Ghe ghe ghe!"

In a display of sheer goblin absurdity, one of the more oblivious members of the horde flopped to the ground, mimicking a fish gasping for air on a sandy shore while talking nonsense. 

"Ahh, my ear! He licked my ear! I... I didn't sign up for this! Where's the exit? Wait, which way is forward? Oh no, I'm trapped in my own arms! I'm down, I'm down! Somebody help me find up!"

In a twisted turn of events, a goblin, filled with a mixture of mischievous glee and defiance, rolled toward Goblinworth's face. With a crude gesture, the goblin lowered his pants, exposing his butt, and pressed it to Goblinworth's nose. The air was suddenly thick with an overpowering stench as the goblin unleashed a vile and repulsive fart, discharging a cloud of torment directly onto Goblinworth's face.

"Heehee! Pppprrrrrrrt! Stinky surprise for the goblin! Ppprrrrt! Smell, smell! Stinky fun-fun! Gob-gob! Nose-treat for you, you smelly snoot sniffer! Fart on goblin! Make him smelly! Hahaha!"

Goblinworth, caught in the midst of this baffling spectacle, could only sputter and cough, his expression a mix of shock, horror, and disbelief.

"Wh-what? Why? Why do this? Stink-butt goblin bad! Need punishment!"

"Goblin no like stinky? Too bad! Hahaha!"

His face contorted in disgust, his eyes watering from the pungent assault. Desperate to escape the noxious cloud, he grabbed his own grotesquely elongated tongue, and swung it like a whip, aiming to rid himself of the lingering foulness. The grotesque spectacle of Goblinworth's lashing tongue against the farting goblin's buttcheek was hilarious.

The farting goblin's screeches pierced the air as Goblinworth's tongue whipped him across the buttcheek, his legs thrashing wildly in the aftermath of his own prank gone awry. 

"Wree! Reee! My buttcheek! Buttcheek sting! Or stink! Wree! Goblin don't know!" he wailed in agony, his antics taking an unexpected and painful turn.

However, the goblin antics weren't done. Another goblin, with an equally twisted sense of humor, leaped into the fray. He planted his grimy feet onto Goblinworth's face, his toes mercilessly invading Goblinworth's nose. Amid raucous cackles, he taunted, "Smell the taste! No wait! Taste the smell!"

 The scene took a surreal turn as they piled onto each other, gnashing their small teeth and wielding their meaty ears as if they were weapons of mass ineptitude. Biting, licking, and flailing with their tongues and ears, the goblins resembled a deranged circus act gone awry, a twisted confusion and hilarity.

"Bite! Bite! Ears smash!" one goblin screeched, its voice a noise of high-pitched, guttural sounds.

"Oops, sorry! My tongue got caught in your ear!"

"Meat-tongue swipe! Tasty flesh!" another goblin chimed in, its words punctuated by a sinister, high-pitched giggle.

"Eat meat! No wait! I want to eat meat! I eat your ears! Ears hurt more!" a goblin shouted, its voice a bizarre mixture of enthusiasm and confusion.

"Ear slap! Ear slap!" echoed another, his words punctuated by a series of clumsy, wet slaps against the side of his buddy's head.

"Ouch! My ear hit my nose! I can't see anything now!"

"I eat! I bite! I lick! I slap!" one goblin screeched, saliva flying from his maw as it lunged at his buddy.

"Me no like my ears licked! I fight you! You ear-licker!" another goblin chortled, using his oversized ear to smack a fellow goblin on the head.

The scene resembled a carnival of the demented, a twisted circus act that had lost all semblance of order and reason. The goblins gnawed, smacked, and licked each other with fervent enthusiasm, creating a noise of yelps, grunts, and unintelligible shrieks.

"Ha ha! I likey tasty snacks! Ear looks delicious!" a particularly enthusiastic goblin cackled as it tried to take a bite out of another's ear.

"I think you silly! No eating my ears! I spank you with ear!" a goblin responded, flailing its own ear in a misguided attempt at retribution.

Goblins, those twisted little creatures, were locked in a ridiculous skirmish, their movements akin to frenzied maggots writhing within a damp, dark pit.

The racket of goblin voices melded into a chorus of utter confusion.

"Grah! Grobble! Get off my foot! No, not my ear! Ow, that's my nose, you numbskull!"

"Where's the Goblin? He's around here somewhere, right?"

"I was gonna poke him in the eye, but I think I poked myself in the bum instead. Ouchies!"

Their battle cries had turned into an indiscernible symphony of nonsense, their minds fogged by their own ludicrous actions as they lost the reason of who was saying what to whom.

"Why are we on the ground? Shouldn't we be fighting someone? Ugh, my brain hurts."

"Hey, wait, I'm not the Goblin! You're supposed to grab the Goblin! I'm Gromp, remember?"

"Goblin? But we all goblin!"

As the goblins struggled to make sense of their absurd predicament, their attempts at communication were like echoes in an empty cave. Their vacant stares and bewildered expressions gave an eerie aura to the scene as if their minds had momentarily checked out of their goblin heads.

"Ow, my toe! Hey, watch where you're flailing that tongue!"

"Stop, stop moving, everyone! Maybe if we all lie still, the goblin will think we're dead and go away."

"Wait, someone grabs the goblin! But don't touch me, I'm trying to figure out where my pants went."

And so, in the midst of their grotesque jumble of limbs, the goblins' grand fight dissolved into a spectacle of absurdity. Their intentions devolved into a mess of confusion and ineptitude, leaving them tangled in a jam of arms, legs, and bewildered thoughts.

"Hey, why do we wriggle? What wriggle for?" one goblin asked, scratching its head in confusion.

Another goblin chimed in, its voice a bizarre mixture of annoyance and contemplation, "Ugh, me not know. We start wrestling, then I think, 'Why wrestle?'"

The third goblin, caught between a moment of realization and stubbornness, mumbled incoherently, "Wrestle bad? Or good? I confuse."

In the end, the battle turned into a surreal dance of idiocy, a demonstration of the goblins' complete lack of coordination or coherent strategy. 

In a sudden turn of events, the goblins managed to drag themselves back to their feet, their scrawny bodies wobbling like reeds in the wind. As if struck by a bolt of lightning, they scuttled away in a comical sequence, tripping over their own feet and stumbling like a chaotic parade of clowns fleeing the scene.  

Among the chaos, Goblinworth lay sprawled on the ground like a discarded ragdoll, his chest heaving as he panted and huffed as though he had just run a marathon. Yet, despite his state, his arm shot up defiantly, displaying a thumbs-up in a gesture of pride and victory.

Between bouts of inhaling and exhaling, his words emerged in a jumble of half-formed syllables. 

"Ha! I... sh-showed... 'em, farm... hill billies!" he managed to rasp, his voice a spirited declaration of his victory.

 "Mighty... m-me... won! Defended... the... Master's... Helen grand statue... from... these... rascals!"