Earthquake of Fluyr

The Earthquake of Fluyr is not one of the most important events in Ghyll history. It is not the single greatest example of whozits or whatzits, the cause for this enlightenment or that denouement, or the reason why I awake every morning. It was just an earthquake. Just an earthquake that happened to kill the happiest pachyderm poster-animal ever. Just an earthquake that happened to uncover a new race of intelligent people, further changing how others regard their place in the world. Just an earthquake: no aspirations for greatness, merely an itch that needed scratching.


 * As you all know, Fluyr is not a place, but a thing. A play, really. A better version of a shambling duet between a burnfly and its trainer! And it was at Baleman that this Fluyr was being performed, with your friend and mine, Fijjit Mejora as the lead. --Mork Wasterson, Calends Gala -1 EC.

The Baleman amphitheatre was putting on their 23rd production of "The Voice of Fluyr", a romantic story of a pachyderm, played by Fijjit Mejora, who was willing to trade anything to prove he and his kind were not dangerous or something to fear. In the third act, just as he had given up all hope, Fluyr (who was originally inspired by Fijjit's own life) traded his perfect singing voice, unique to his kind, for the ability to spread happiness. Unfortunately for Baleman, it was during this third act that...


 * A slight tremor was felt, but boy, I tell ya, I felt it was the emotion swelling up within me! "Make your choice!" the old hag said, taunting our dear Fijjit with his dearest desire at the expense of his fondest ability! Tremor two! And we all imagined it as the uneasy shifting of Fijjit as he weighed the grave decision. "I'm a very busy woman and I haven't got all day!" yelled the hag, pressuring, pressuring! Tremor three, and Creator help us if we all didn't feel the immense gasp within us as Fijjit raised his glorious trunk and let out a saddened trumpet.


 * Fourth tremor. Fijjit's trumpeting continues, and I start to think something is wrong. That last tremor was a little too physical for my tastes, I said to myself. Another tremor. The actors on stage felt that one too. Fijjit's trumpeting falters as he looks around confused. Tremor six and "KEEP SINGING!" yells the old hag! Tremor seven stretches the boundary of the word as rudely as it stretched the earth beneath our feet! This was definitely not part of the theatrics. --Mork Wasterson, Calends Gala -1 EC.

Poor unfortunate souls - very few survived that day.

Citations: Calends Gala, Pachyderm, Whozits.

--Morbus Iff 15:21, 17 Jun 2005 (EDT)