Letter #2 (Date unknown)
My travels in Tsepudra have proved the legends true– it is a hideous world, filled with volcanoes, swamps, and giant salamanders. Nothing of beauty exists there. The thought of Tabetha, an eight-year-old girl, in that dreadful land makes me shudder with fatherly concern. Tabetha's trail was easy enough to follow, however, and I learned much of her adventures. But my explorations of that world were interrupted. It came to my attention that the secret location of my library was breached. Naturally I returned to Earth to correct this.
Upon entering my library, the first thing I noticed was a Ginormous Beast. It squatted there upon the stone table in all its unpleasantness, flipping through the pages of a book. I was horrified. Such disregard for the pages! When questioned of its purpose, the Ginormous Beast replied that yes, it was indeed a vile thug and a villain, and had been sent by none other than Jehoshaphat, my sworn enemy of old. I studied the Ginormous Beast more closely now. By the smirk on its face, the Beast fancied itself a clever fellow. I knew at once what I must do.
"Which book have you come for?" I questioned the Beast.
For response, it leaped from the table to stand glowering before me. Its hairy bulk panted and heaved. "The Great Trisaster, A History Of," it replied.
This, of course, made things quite simple. For unbeknownst to the Beast, "The Great Trisaster," was already embedded with a dumb-dumb spell, activated by any person's touch but my own.
As graciously as possible, I led the Beast to the proper shelf. I pointed out the book in question. The Beast snatched it at once. It threw the book open and greedily read the first page. The dumb-dumb spell was immediately triggered. I watched with fascination as the look of excitement on the Beast's face transformed into one of bottomless idiocy. The Beast's eyes glazed over, and its jaw went slack. It began breathing loudly through its mouth.
As per the spell, every page of the book had been wiped clean and replaced with a draft of "Letters From Bobo." First written by Bobo Bravehead, the Idiot Saint, early magicians quickly realized that Bobo's letters had the effect of making the reader dumber for having read it. Using this to their advantage, his musings were incorporated into spells to protect important books from unwanted eyes.
The spell was a success. While reading the book, the Ginormous Beast grinned stupidly, drool running from its mouth in glistening rivulets as it turned page after page. For eighteen hours without pause, the Beast read Letters From Bobo, over and again, every one of the book's twelve-hundred pages filled with the same asinine language. By the end of the ordeal, the poor creature was reduced to such magnitudes of dumbness that it could only shiver fitfully on the stone floor in a puddle of its own tears. I was forced to escort the poor creature out by the hand, patting its hairy back for assurance. I provided it with some pocket-money and dropped the Beast off at the bus station. What became of it I shall never know. One thing is certain: Jehoshaphat will have to try harder if he wishes to steal from my library.
As I am quite freed up now, I plan to return to Tsepudra shortly. I still have much research to do, and look forward to completing Wrush: Volume Two. Expect the next chapters to arrive within the month.