Benison pushed open the door to the tavern. Not even tinkly music played. Only one patron warmed himself with a Dragon Ale he slowly slipped. Benison inhaled and marched to the lone man he deemed “Jasper.”
“Are you Jasper?”
“I am,” said Jasper, who didn’t bother taking his eyes from his drink. His face was red and swollen as if he had been crying.
“I just stopped in at Helga’s place—”
At once, Jasper burst into a fresh wave of tears like a little sissy school girl. Benison shifted his eyes nervously unsure if he could risk being seen with such a display.
“I—I’m sorry,” Jasper whimpered. “It’s just…I miss my Helga so.”
Jasper nodded and attempted to quell his trembling lip with another gulp of ale he ended up splashing down his front. Benison scowled in disgust.
“She and I…we used to be lovers. Now, she wants nothing to do with me.”
“Imagine that,” said Benison.
“She and I were inseparable. One day after an afternoon at the ol’ N’Erd well, she suddenly changed like she doesn’t even remember me.”
“You didn’t happen to blubber like that in front of her did ya?” Benison asked.
“Never mind. Have you tried talking to her?”
“I’ve tried. Several times, but she won’t listen,” Jasper said.
“Is this before or after you started sending the locals to her place for a sausage shine?”
“Oh, long before,” Jasper said. “I only spread the rumors of “Helga’s Hoes” because it was a long standing joke between us. She would sell her hoes. And she would sow my seeds.”
Benison fought down the rising vomit. “That—” He shook his head and wished of nicer thoughts other than Helga and Jasper and all their hoe sowing.
“Look…Jasper…if you wish to court the lady, you can’t be sending men to her—shop. You need to attempt a different approach.”
Jasper dried his eyes and raised his hopeful gaze to Benison.
“You’d be willing to help me get my Helga back?”
“Eh..well..hmm…” Benison hemmed and hawed.
“I’ll pay you well.”
“Done!” Benison agreed.