All knowledge of measuring time had escaped Grignr. When a person is deprived of the sun, moon, and stars, he looses all conception of time as he had previously understood it.

Looks like they hired the narrator from GLEN OR GLENDA for this chapter.

It seemed as if years had passed if time were being measured by terms of misery and mental anguish,

My watch must've stopped. It says it's only ten till inner torment but the clock says it's already half past major depressive episode.

yet he estimated that his stay had only been a few days in length. He has slept three times and had been fed five times since his awakening in the crypt. However, when the actions of the body are restricted its needs are also affected. The need for nourishmnet and slumber are directly proportional to the functions the body has performed, meaning that when free and active Grignr

"If you want your Grignr to be free and active and have a shiny coat, feed him Pal Grignr Chow!"

may become hungry every six hours and witness the desire for sleep

"What did you see when you turned the corner?"
"I saw the desire for sleep, being stabbed by its ex-husband."
"Objection, your honor! Counsel is leading the witness."

every fifteen hours, whereas in his present condition he may encounter the need for food every ten hours, and the want for rest every twenty hours. All methods he had before depended upon were extinct in the dismal pit. Hence, he may have been imprisoned for ten minutes or ten years, he did not know, resulting in a disheartened emotion deep within his being.

The food, if you can honor the moldering lumps of fetid mush to that extent, was born to him by two guards who

... had dreamed up a bizarre food-fetishist three-in-a-cell variation on the Immaculate Conception.

opened a portal at the top of his enclosure and shoved it to him in wooden bowls, retrieving the food and water bowels


from his previous meal at the same time, after which they threw back the bolts on the iron latch and returned to their other duties. Since deprived of all other means of nourishment, Grignr was impelled to eat the tainted slop in order to ward off the paings of starvation,

Them paings of starvation kin be naisty, cain't they?

though as he stuffed it into his mouth with his filthy fingers and struggled to force it down his throat, he imagined it was that which had been spurned by the hounds

"You mean you won't (sniff) go to the kennel dance with me?"

stationed at various segments of the palace.

There was little in the baren vault that could occupy his body or mind. He had paced out the length and width of the enclosure time and time again

"Damn! That wall's still there."

and tested every granite slab which consisted the walls of the prison in hopes of finding a hidden passage to freedom, all of which was to no avail other than to keep him busy

"Your teacher's sick today, but she left these worksheets for you..."

and distract his mind from wandering to thoughts of what he believed was his future. He had memorized the number of strides from one end to the other of the cell, and knew the exact number of slabs which made up the bleak dungeon. Numorous schemes were introduced and alternately discarded in turn as they succored to unravel to him no means of escape which stood the slightest chance of sucess.

Anguish continued to mount as his means of occupation were rapidly exhausted.

They're automating down at the plant.

Suddenly without no tive,

"Dang, I ain't got no tive!"

he wasrouted from his contemplations

... as an army of Warhammer miniatures scattered his forces to the fourwinds.

as he detected a faint scratching sound at the end of the crypt opposite him. The sound seemed to be caused by something trying to scrape away at the grantite blocks the floor of the enclosure consisted of, the sandy scratching of something like an animal's claws.

Grignr gradually groped

... a 17-year-old waitress.

his way to the other end of the vault carefully feeling his way along with his hands ahead of him. When a few inches from the wall, a loud, penetrating squeal, and the scampering of small padded feet

... announced that Mariah Carey was in the cell with him, and he knew he was starting to hallucinate.

reverberated from the walls of the roughly hewn chamber.

Grignr threw his hands up to shield his face, and flung himself backwards upon his buttocks. A fuzzy form bounded to his hairy chest, burying its talons in his flesh while gnashing toward his throat with its grinding white teeth;its sour, fetid breath scortching the sqirming barbarians dilating nostrils. Grignr grappled with the lashing flexor muscles of the repugnant body of a garganuan brownhided rat, striving to hold its razor teeth from his juicy jugular, as its beady grey organs of sight

Let's not jump to conclusions.

glazed into the flaring emeralds of its prey.

Which could be any colour, really.
And of course: Eyes?
Let's not jump to conclusions.

Taking hold of the rodent around its lean, growling stomach with both hands Grignr pried it from his crimson rent breast, removing small patches of flayed flesh from his chest in the motion between the squalid black claws of the starving beast. Holding the rodent at arms length, he cupped his righthand over its frothing face, contrcting his fingers into a vice-like fist over the quivering head. Retaining his grips on the rat, grignr flexed his outstretched arms

I think this must be the bit where some people say Grignr has four arms, but perhaps we should be lenient and let him off with second degree ambiguity.

while slowly twisting his right hand clockwise and his left hand counter clockwise motion.

I'm confused. Does that mean this is taking place in the Northern or the Southern Hemisphere?

The rodent let out a tortured squall,

... lashing the cell with wind and a brief rainstorm.

drawing scarlet

Let's not jump to conclusions.

as it violently dug its foam flecked fangs into the barbarians sweating palm, causing his face to contort to an ugly grimace as he cursed beneath his braeth.

With a loud crack the rodents head parted from its squirming torso, sending out a sprinking shower

... lashing the cell with wind and a brief rainstorm.

of crimson gore,

Al's cousin from Massachusetts.

and trailing a slimy string of disjointed vertebrae, snapped trachea, esophagus, and jugular, disjointed hyoid bone, morose purpled stretched hide, and blood seared muscles.

I see someone took Anatomy 101 last semester...

Flinging the broken body to the floor, Grignr shook his blood streaked hands and wiped them against his thigh until dry, then wiped the blood that had showered his face and from his eyes. Again sitting himself upon the jagged floor, he prepared to once more revamp his

... kitchen.

glum meditations. He told himself that as long as he still breathed the gust of life through his lungs, hope was not lost;

But if he breathed it through his spleen he was pretty much done for.

he told himself this, but found it hard to comprehend in his gloomy surroundings. Yet he was still alive,

Just like Eddie Vedder!

his bulging sinews at their peak of marvel, his struggling mind floating in a miral of

... delicious bouillon.

impressed excellence of thought. Plot after plot sifted through his mind in energetic contemplations.

Then it hit him. Minutes may have passed in silent thought or days, he could not tell,

Aw, come on, you can tell me...

but he stumbled at last upon a plan that he considered as holding a slight margin of plausibility. He might die in the attempt, but he knew he would not submit without a final bloody struggle.

Oh, good. Another bloody struggle. I've been waiting for another bloody struggle...

It was not a foolproof plan,

... the part about getting a helicopter being particularly problematic.

yet it built up a store

... on the vacant lot next to McDonalds.

of renewed vortexed energy

"Well, we could reconfigure the tricorder to build up a store of renewed vortexed energy, but..."

in his overwroughtsoul, though he might perish in the execution.

One usually does.

of the escape, he would still be escaping the life of infinite torture in store forhim. Either way he would still cheat the gloating prince of the succored revenge his sadistic mind craved so dearly.

The guards would soon come to bear him off to the prince's buried mines of dread,

Norgolia's major primary resources: tin, coal, dread.

giving him the sought after opportunity to execute his newly formulated plan. Groping

... a 17-year-old waitress,

his way along the rough floor Grignr finally found his tool

... where it had flown off to after a spot of over-energetic dickering.

in a pool of congealed gore;

Al's cousin from South Carolina.

the carcass of the decapitated rodent; the tool that the very filth he had been sentenced too, spawned. When the time came for action he would have to be prepared, so he set himself to rending the sticky hulk in grim silence, searching by the touch of his fingertips for the lever to freedom.

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