". . . I gots new brooo!," Basement bob yelled through the vent shaft, in an exchange attempt for food.
    "FINE!! Send some up then, we'll serve it with dinner. I'll send any leftovers down afterwards. I promise," Bob yelled while crossing his fingers in plain sight of Gringito, who was laughing merrily.
    The wheels on the makeshift dumbwaiter creaked as three large oaken kegs appeared at the window.
    "He sure is dumb, huh?," Gringito said between bursts of laughter.
    "Yeah but he works hard," Bob and Gringito both went into uncontrollable laughter, "Here's that plate of food for ya!," Bob set the plate on the dumbaiter.
    "Oh, tank you," came the reply up the vent shaft, followed by a small slurp," I took cup for me. It still loopy, not all right."
    "Does his voice sound strange to you?," Bob asked the mass that was rolling on the ground laughing.
    "Does it really matter? It's a good brew," Gringito smiled, "Hey my throat is kinda tingly!" And he laughed some more.

                                                            * Later at the Dinner Table *

    "Where did you get this beer? It's woderful!"
    "It's really smooth, with no aftertaste. Where is it from?"
     "Basement Bob made it."
     The table fell to absolute silence. People stared at their tankards, wondering what was in the brew.
     "Oh come on! I made very sure that there was nothing wrong with it!," Bob said, trying to be convincing, "And the intoxicating effect doesn't leave a hangover."
     "Yeah, I even had the first cup," Gringito's voice squeaked out.
     Everyone chuckled at Gringitos error and then went on to drink the kegs dry.
 
                                   *                                         *                                              *
     "Hey Bob, great brew," Bob yelled down the vent shaft, "Everyone loved it!"
     Everyone had no problem getting to sleep that night (big surprise). Then morning broke, so someone fixed it. But a large surprise came with it.
     Morning moans passed through the halls but voices to go with them did not match where they were coming from.
     "Where are my socks?," Ba'als voice came from the direction of Forzans room.
     There was even more confusion when none of the lights would light, so they couldn't see each other. Pumbaas voice was heard.
     ". . .and if . . . Pumbaa, I'm talking!"
     "So what!," responded Lothars booming voice.
     Bob walked in yelling at the top of his lungs and carting a tray of candles.
     "If everyone will please shut up!," Gringitos voice poured out of Bobs mouth, "I've got candles and pretty soon we'll have light enough to see who's speaking. That way we wont kill each other."
     Everyone looked at Bob, and proclaimed in unison, "SAY WHAT?!"
     Bob started to set the lit candles on the table.
     "Do you realize that we just heard Gringitos voice come from your mouth?" Jamethiel said, sounding very much like Quinine.
     "Do you realize that we just heard Qiunines voice when you just spoke?," Bob snapped back.
     "Well, sounds like we need to find some way to get real voices back," Bjorns voice was heard.
     "Well, obviously!," Pyrros' voice sounded.
     "Lets find Bob!," they all cried, the group rushed towards the kitchen.
     "Huh?," Ba'als voice chirped, Bjorn raced to the door of the kitchen.
     "Basement Bob!," the mob ammended. Bjorn stepped away and the group all proceeded to the way- back, back stairway.     (That area that only existed in the very most original blueprints.)
     They proceeded to pull stones out of the wall and hack through boards. After 6 hours of digging they finally found the door, complete with the original plaques.
     "Door to NE area of basement."
     "WoW!," Bobs voice bellowed, "Has it really been that long?!"
     "Ummm, where's the key?," Pumbaas voice asked.
     "Pumbaa would you please open the door?"
     Pumbaa took a run at it, and hit square in the middle. Reducing it to splinters.
     "Wow that as really rotten wood," Jamethiels voice chimed.
     "Where are you?"
     "Down here," a voice came from the deep shadows near the vent shaft.
     "Well could you light a torch or something?"
     A small, faint light shone from the far reaches of the smelly dark region of the Guild Hall. Some one noticed that the entire basement area was mostly pillars and pipes with the occaisional bones and blood stains on the walls and floors. As the group approached where the light was, the walls got increasingly more pink and flowery. People added to the floor decorations.
     Someone tried to yell, but suddenly became very hoarse. Everyone found that very amusing and they tried to laugh, they too went hoarse. They all spent the next 15 minutes laughing, and when they finally stopped their original voices had returned.
     They went into pink, flowery hell that Basement Bob called home. All the people who had never seen Basement Bob were shocked. They had never seen anything so wretchedly ugly. He made Quasimodo look like a male supermodel.
     Basement Bob crawled out of his teeny little corner and screeched
     "Before yell at Bob and try to kill Bob I just let you know that pickle brine, toejam, moss and peas don't make good drink. But I admit that all sounded funny!"
 
 

                                                                The End