"Well it's not my fault you've got big feet.."
"..on the ninth day of Christmas.."
"Out of my way you garden ornament!"
"..my true love sent to me.."
"Oww! Who bit me?"
"..nine strangers strolling.."
"Serves you right, lumbering oaf."
"Leprechaun, stop biting people's ankles!"
"..eight gnomes a-fishing.."
"But Mistress! She trod on me!"
"..seven minions singing.."
"Whoever that is, if they don't shut up right now, I'm going to throw a fireball at them."
".. .."
"Thank you."
"Are we there yet?"
"No."
"..How about now?"
"No."
"..Now?"
"No!"
"I'm hungry.."
"We had breakfast an hour ago."
"And..?"
"You can't be hungry already."
"Why not?"
"Because-"
"Are we there now?"
"NO!"
"Actually, we are.."
The Minions drew to a halt, or rather, the ones at the front stopped dead, then the others piled into them. Once they'd picked themselves up they gathered round the Creators and looked in the direction that Pannfalasiel was pointing. On the hill facing them stood a vision of white marble and skilled craftsmanship. The moonlight glinted off the polished pillars that stood around the building.
"How do we get in?" asked Noggin, surveying the building critically.
Pannfalasiel pulled out a piece of paper on which was sketched a plan of the facility. "Well, there's these cellars under the main structure and there's a disused grate on the right hand side that we can-"
"Too complicated," interrupted Gremlin. "I say we go in the front door."
"I second that," nodded Cretin.
Pannfalasiel stared at them, then at Phorque. "But we can't-"
"Of course we can," cut in Noggin. "Who's going to stop us?"
"But Niloom will have guards everywhere!"
"No he won't," said Crouton, smiling slightly. "He'll have them surrounding the trapdoor out of the cellar. He won't expect us to use the front door, so it won't be guarded."
Pannfalasiel gaped at her. "You're all crazy!" he said, as soon as he regained control of his voice.
"No we're not," said Cretin calmly. "We've got pieces of paper saying we're not."
Before Pannfalasiel could argue, there was a rustling in the bushes and a small figure dressed in tatty white robes burst into the clearing. The Minions stared at her for a moment, then looked to the Crouton for instructions. Crouton shrugged, and looked hopefully at the Creators.
"Izno!" gasped Pannfalasiel, pulling the small girl to her feet. "What are you doing out here?"
"Looking for you. I slipped out when everyone was asleep," gushed Izno, her silvery blonde hair falling haphazardly over her shoulders. "I found these engravings in Lantigo's office." She held out a badly wrapped package and Pannfalasiel took it curiously.
"What is it?" asked Phorque, peering over his shoulder.
"Looks like the start of a myth," frowned Pannfalasiel, examining the stone tablets carefully. "Doesn't look like anything we've been working on though. Different style altogether. These are really old."
"Valuable?" asked Cretin interestedly.
"Only if you can find a buyer," shrugged Pannfalasiel. "Why did you give them to me, though?" he asked, frowning at Izno.
"Isn't it obvious?" sighed Izno, rolling her eyes. "Look at the figures!"
Pannfalasiel looked at the figures blankly. "What about them?"
"Hey! That's HQ!" said Cretin suddenly, snatching the first tablet from him. "And those figures - that's us!"
"What are they doing on a Myth tablet?" asked Pannfalasiel, bewildered.
"They're part of it, I guess," said Izno, staring at the Creators with a tinge of misgiving. When she'd discovered the tablets, she'd expected great warriors, not.. these people.
Noggin tugged the next tablet out of Pannfalasiel's unresisting hands and inspected it.
"So why is there a big zigzag down the middle of it?" asked Gremlin.
"Well, it's not strictly in the middle, is it?" interjected Cretin. Gremlin scowled at her as Izno started to explain.
"It's called a Certamen Strip. It represents conflict."
"And those big circles above our heads?" asked Noggin.
"They look like our badges," put in Crouton. "See, you can just make out the C in the one over Gremlin's head."
"And I guess that's Moolin," said Cretin, jabbing a finger towards the remaining figure. "Why's he wearing a dress?"
"They're robes," said Crouton, with a sigh.
"No they're not. Those are robes," Cretin objected, indicating the garments she and Gremlin were wearing. "We're fighting a bloody cross dresser!"
"What's that by his head?" asked Gremlin. "Is it just a dent, or what?"
"Looks like it's got wings when you squint at it," said Cretin, demonstrating.
"Flower's got wings," piped up Minion No. 2. Crouton glared at her and fell silent. She was still miffed that her elf had run away.
"The traitorous little midget," muttered Gremlin darkly. "She's gone and joined Moolin, hasn't she?"
"What's the next one show then?" asked Noggin, looking expectantly at Pannfalasiel. "We've established that we have to fight Moolin, so the next one should show what happens, right?"
"Well it's not quite that simple," said Pannfalasiel awkwardly. "See, we don't know that outcome until it occurs, so.."
"So?"
Pannfalasiel held out two tablets. "So the person who made these foresaw two possible endings. One where you win.." He handed over the first engraving, depicting the Creators, the Minions and a male figure against the backdrop of Higher Powers Ltd HQ. "..and one where you don't."
"Who's that supposed to be?" asked Gremlin, pointing to the mystery figure on the first tablet.
"Lantigo, I think. They look like his sort of robes. I guess that's why he kept this Myth in his office. It's unfinished, so he has to wait for it to be completed before he can store it."
The Creators nodded thoughtfully, then Cretin took hold of the last tablet, showing Moolin and the Minions, and smashed it on the ground.
Phorque, Pannfalasiel and Izno gasped and stared at her, their eyes wide.
"What did you do that for?" whispered Izno at last.
"Lantigo was keeping this Myth thing, right? So he must have figured we'd win, because he wouldn't be around to store it if we didn't. We're just making his job easier," smiled Cretin.
"Besides," added Gremlin. "If Moolin winning is no longer an option according to the Fates, we can't lose, can we? Basic logic."
"Warped logic," said Izno, shaking her head despairingly.
"True," agreed Noggin, grinning. "But it works."
