There were many things I didn't know about goblins. One of them was that they never, ever, upheld their word.
All of the goblins expected that I'd follow all of my clothes in the pot.
But the chief… oh, he was licking the bowls and waving them as soon as there were no traces of the food left.
Grilled Cheese Sandwich grease was apparently something he wanted to die for.
I had no idea at that time, but this was a goblin who was going to rewrite history. Goblin history, that is.
"We won't eat him," he pointed at me, then he waved his bowl at me. Why he started to insist that I placed his sandwiches in bowls was beyond me, but, hey, he wasn't insisting that I finish the soup the goblins started cooking… with me in it.
"No!" The goblins roared as one. "We eat!"
I blinked. The smell of my unwashed socks coming from the soup cauldron made me cringe.
And yet, I had an idea!