How to Rescue a Dead Princess Read Online Free PDF Page B

circles and I make gargling noises until I go absolutely completely stark raving drooling babbling mad.
    “Awful,” Scar replied.
    “Ha-ha!” Randall laughed.
    Well, I guess even the oldest of jokes contain some contemporary humor value, Sir William decided. That must be why they've survived so long.
    “I guess you gentlemen are set,” said Scar, handing the map to Randall.
    “What about our horses and his sword?” Randall asked.
    “We're keeping them,” said Scar.
    “I don't think so,” Sir William told her.
    “Oh, really?”
    “Yes, really.”
    “You really don't think so?”
    “No, not really,” Sir William admitted.
    “No, not really meaning you really don't think so, or no not really meaning you don't think so but you don't really don't think so.”
    “No not really meaning I really don't think so.”
    “What point was I trying to make?” Scar asked.
    “Nothing, really.”
    “Oh, yeah, your weapons and horses. They're ours. Now, you could try and fight me—”
    Sir William stood up to do just that.
    “—but then you'll never know the answer to the first riddle.” She tapped a section of the map marked with an X. “To get to the cemetery gates, you'll have to pass through the Realm of Mystery. Your wits will be challenged like never before.”
    “We'll see about that,” said Sir William. “My wits have been challenged on many occasions.”
    “All I can tell you is that the answer to the first riddle is To get to the other side . After that, you're on your own. Oh, and I guess I should mention that any wrong answers will result in immediate death.”
    “Any other obstacles we should know about?” Randall asked.
    Scar began tapping her finger against various spots on the map. “Here ... here ... definitely this one ... here ... oooh, that one's nasty ... here ... here ... and here.”
    “Thank you,” said Randall.
    “Oh, and here,” Scar added.
    “Let us go, squire,” said Sir William. “You carry the princess, I'll follow the map.”
    * * * *

    FIFTEEN MINUTES later they were completely lost.
    “Is this map to scale?” Sir William wondered. “I don't think it's to scale. I think she just put these markers any lousy place she felt like.”
    “Mind if we rest for a while?” Randall asked, leaning against a tree. “Princess Janice is getting heavy.”
    “See, according to this worthless map we should be near a death trap right now, and there's nothing around.”
    “The death trap's that way,” said a short man, stepping out from behind a tree and pointing behind them. “Vicious one. They have to hose it down every couple weeks.”
    “Who are you?” Sir William demanded.
    “My name is Lawrence. I'm a traveling salesman.” He extended his hand and Sir William shook it. Lawrence had a thin mustache, slicked-back hair, and was carrying a large black pouch. “Pleased to meet you.”
    “I'm Sir William. Are you familiar with this forest?”
    “Yep. In the short time it's been around, I've acquainted myself with every square inch of this place. I'm a remarkably good person to have around if you were to, say, become lost.”
    “May I ask a stupid question?” Randall inquired.
    “There are no stupid questions,” said Lawrence. “Only stupid people.”
    “How can you make a living as a traveling salesman hanging around a forest like this?”
    “I find people such as yourselves, of course. You have money, right?”
    “A little,” Sir William said. “But we're not interested in buying anything.”
    “Oh, I think you'll change your mind,” said Lawrence, reaching into his pouch. “Listen to me, William—may I call you William?—this here is the best offer since mankind came up with the concept of offering.”
    “Listen, idiot—may I call you idiot?—I said I'm not interested in buying anything.”
    “But look!” Lawrence pulled out the contents of the pouch: a wooden leg. “I'm going to sell you this leg!”
    “You can't be serious,” said Sir William. “I'm