Oi oi.
Name’s Sammy.
Sammy the Elbow.
Only gonna say this once so you get it.
Head of the tribe is the head, council is neck, warriors is arms, scavengers is belly, hunters is feet, and me–I’m elbow. Cos I’m sharp and pointy and you don’t wanna get me mad.
One other thing we gotta get clear here, while we’re at it.
Second greatest shaman ever! Second! Not third, not bloody third, because Blistering Steve was a bloody moron and it was bloody spontaneous combustion what he did, not transcending to a higher plane or that! There were scorch marks on the ceiling! There was a carbonised shoe on the floor. I’m seriously pissed that you wankers would think that Blistering Steve, that incompetent prat who wouldn’t know a subduction spell if it went off under his frickin’ bed, is remotely on the same level as me! I’m good at my job! It’s not just me being modest or anything, I am that good and that’s the truth of it and I don’t see why I should say anything other.
The problem–the only problem I have, because when you’re as on it as me there ain’t many things what can drag you down–the problem is people. Human people, as you’re asking. They just don’t get me. I can walk up to your average Joe and tell him everything about his life, because I’ve seen it, I’ve seen all the echoes and all the stories you people carry around with you in your shadow, and I’ll be right, and what’ll Joe do? He’ll scream and point and go “Goblin, goblin!” and call pest control and a wizard and I’ll be like, “Oi, bozo! I’m frickin” telling you a frickin’ smart thing here so don’t give me this goblin crap because I am on it like mussels on the side of a polluted pier!”
Everyone’s all like “It’s not discrimination; you’re a goblin” and I’m like “That is discriminatory whatsit or whatever” but they don’t listen because, like they said, I’m a goblin! It is so frustrating having to deal with all these morons!
I’m not how you’d say a people person.