The fox made his escape just as the fat, jolly Elf dressed in a spangled yellow and green jumpsuit made his way into the plaza.
"Bombi! Bombi!" the teens were screeching and flocking around their idol. The Fox slunk away with his message, not understanding the huge popularity of the Elf Minstral Tom Bomba-bloom-O. It was an enigma.
The fox crossed the Banquet Court, taking the escalator to the top of a high, round hill in the very heart of Topfloorien. And there, at last, he spied she whom he had sought for so long. "About time." he muttered.
**********************
Merisuiniel stood alone in the Elvish twilight, the neon of the distant plaza gleaming in her golden hair, the basic little black and red Elven gown making a classic fashion statement, hardly needing accessories at all. She gave a heavy sigh, puzzled by all that the Salad Bowel had shown her, and idly flicked a stray crouton from her sleeve.
Suddenly before her appeared the strangest creature: it bore a striking resemblence to a fox she had seen, shortly after it had been run down by stampeding wain team. Except no fox she had ever seen ever sported a bright pink top knot, nor reeked of "White Simarils".
The little creature sat before her, and spat a slobber-coated, crinkled piece of coarse manila paper at her feet. He then shook his head, grimaced, pawed at his mouth and spat two more times. Then, without a word, he faded into the undergrowth.
"Well, I've got that little nuisance out of the way. Now to find that dwarf and conduct some real business, then get out of town without those Orcs seeing me again. I wonder which way the parking lots are?" And with that, the fox trotted off, in entirely the wrong direction.
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