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Thursday
May 31, 2012
5:59am EDT


  >> Static Item >> Fiction >> Comedy >> ID #1165069  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Nilbog
Nilbog the goblin goes to Hollywood?
Rated:
E
by
Avg Rating: (6)
(350 words)

Nilbog

Nilbog made his decision yesterday. If he was to ever find fame and fortune he must leave the Horde. He was tired of being called the “Snotling” by the others. He was going into the world of humans, to become a Hollywood star.

He jumped from the steps of the city bus, turned and made grotesque faces at the children who were laughing at him. He was careful not to smile at them but he would get even.

He would find them tonight and weave nightmares into their tiny little brains.

Nilbog climbed the stone steps on all fours. Reaching the door to the agency he stretched, squinted his eyes and read the lettering on the glass door.

“Actor’s Guild”

The receptionist greeted him,” Good morning, Mr. Nilbog, we’ve been expecting you.”

He felt better already, nobody ever called him Mister.

He was led into another room and asked to take a seat.

“Mr. Spielberg will be with you momentarily,” the receptionist said, as she left the room.

Nilbog sat quietly, resting his hairy brow in his cupped hands, wondering if the Horde missed him yet.

The movie producer entered the room; moved to his imported teakwood desk and sat down ignoring the little green creature that was grinning from ear to ear, showing his yellowed, crooked teeth.

“Let’s get right to the chase, Nilbog. Have you ever done any acting to speak of?”

He shrugged his shoulders and spoke for the first time since leaving the forest at dawn, “No, but I cause mayhem during Halloween.”

“I see, no experience and you are not very tall are you, Nilbog?’

“Two meters, Sir.”

“That could be a problem; I want tall Goblins in my upcoming movie. I’m afraid you just won’t do.”

You will be sorry you said that, Mr. Spielberg.

Nilbog stood, walked toward the door, looked over his shoulder and smiled at the man.

The prolific producer’s blood curdled in his veins. His treasured Oscars wobbled and fell to the floor in flames.

The next Spielberg blockbuster would never be made.

I wonder. Would Oprah welcome me?


Prompt: Write a story about a Goblin. 400 words or less


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