Fat Goblins

A fellow author woke up dreaming about fat goblins at midnight, which naturally inspired a silly story. 😀



‘I’m not fat,’ Petunia said indignantly. ‘I’m just a bit short for my weight. If I was seven feet instead of four foot three I’d be perfect. Anyway, you can’t talk. With a belly like that you’d give Father Christmas a run for his money, and as for that little rotund specimen you call a friend…’

Nag, nag, nag. That’s all she seemed to do these days. What had happened to the willowy beauty who had bewitched him all those years ago? Igor had warned him she would turn into an old hag like her mother but he had been besotted. Anyway, his friend was in the same boat, he had married Lilywhite, Petunia’s sister who could nag for fairyland.

‘I’m just taking the dinosaur for some exercise,’ he called as he made for the door.

‘Don’t give me that. I know you’re off to the Toadstool to try out that new imported mead, and no doubt you’ll be ogling that barmaid who’s no better than she ought to be. Mother warned me but I was a fool and didn’t listen, and now see what I have to put up with. I should have taken her advice and married Elfin, at least he knows how to treat a lady. And he always gets invites to the best fairy balls, not that I would go with you anyway, showing me up with that ridiculous green cap with the bells on.’

With the shrill screech of his wife’s voice still ringing in his ears Gumbor escaped, dragging Dino behind him. She was right about one thing though; he had arranged to meet Igor in the pub and had heard the new barmaid was a comely wench.

After a brief tussle with Dino who wanted to chase the exciting dragon smells, Gumbor managed to tie the animal up to the post kept for that purpose at the rear of his favourite drinking haunt. Or at least it used to be. What had happened to the rickety old benches and the curtains so full of dust that if you sneezed you would immediately grant the nearest human three wishes? The peeling paintwork and gloomy corners had now been replaced by plush sofas, cream and maroon walls and disco style strobe lights illuminating the bunny waitresses with their skimpy costumes and bobbly tails.

‘Over here, Gum,’ he heard a voice call from behind the gazebo.

‘What have they done to the place Ig?’ he asked his fat friend.

‘Didn’t you read the Faerie Herald? It’s been taken over by that foreign conglomerate. They’ve got all new fancy barmaids and they won’t even let you in unless you’re wearing your Sunday best. They’ve stopped selling Goblin slurp and even the food is bits on sticks, nothing like a good old-fashioned gut-buster. What are we going to do?’

Gumbor was in despair. Scrambling up onto the window ledge he peered through the sparkling windows and his eyes nearly popped out when he saw the voluptuous wench behind the bar. She was everything a Goblin could desire. Looking down at himself he remembered the dashing, handsome beast he used to be and determined to do something about it.

Making his way home he found a note from his wife, ‘Gone to stay with Mother for a month. Make your own dinner for a change.’ So he did. At first it was a disaster, but gradually he learnt how to fix himself proper, healthy food. He started taking care of his clothes and even bought new ones. He set himself on an exercise regime, lost weight, took daily baths and gradually saw the old Gumbor re-emerge from the remnants of the fat, scruffy goblin he had become.

Igor had joined him in his endeavours, and four weeks later the two friends looked at each other and pronounced themselves fit to brave the New Toadstool for the first time. With a high-5 and a jaunt in their steps they pushed open the doors and made their entrance. Female eyes swivelled in their direction, showing nothing but admiration for these two impressive goblins no one recognised.

Ordering themselves reduced-fat honey mead they found a quiet corner and sat down to peruse the other clientele. Although there were plenty of good looking females Igor and Gumbor found themselves attracted to two particularly beautiful specimens on a nearby table who were casting ‘come hither’ glances in their direction.  ‘Wow, the shorter one is really something,’ Gumbor whispered to his friend.

‘I prefer the other one,’ Igor whispered back. ‘Shall we invite them over for a drink?’ So they did.

The evening passed in delightful company and it was only as the clock struck midnight and they invited the girls back to their respective homes that they thought to ask their names.

‘Don’t you recognise us?’ asked Gumbor’s lady friend. ‘My name is Petunia, and this is my sister Lilywhite. The fee for that witches’ potion was worth every penny to get our men back.’

And they all lived happily ever after.


© Voinks November 2016



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