Stanley didn't expect (or want) an answer to his question. He strummed again.
"Some knights," said Lefty. "Better if we had some knights."
"Ilost 'em, okay?" snapped Stanley. As part of his attempting to achieve "mellowness," he'd been trying not to think about the treachery of the K.I.S.S. Jed knew it was a sort subject, too. "Are you trying to tick me off today?"
"You got money. Buy some more," said the mask.
Stanley put the uke on the desk again and said in a loud voice, aimed at the ceiling fan, "Great idea! I never thought of that before! Here, I'll just offer some Shmuckers to the next tribe of Gobwins or Hobgobwins that I see oh wait there aren't any!"
Hamster had told him that not only did Charlie steal his Knights, but he was pretty sure that Charlescomm was combing the wilderness and keeping all the Gobwins and Hobgobwins away, just so Stanley couldn't establish a relationship with any new tribes. That guy never played fair.
Stanley wrinkled his nose. "No, I'm not hiring Marbits. They smell."
"You got no gobwins or hobgobwins," said Lefty. "No reason you can't get elves now."
Stanley stared at the ceiling fan, watching it slowly revolve, as he tried to come up with something to say to what might just be the stupidest suggestion he'd ever heard.
"Jed... do I look like an elf kind of guy to you?"
"There's all kinds of elves, Kahuna," said one of the heads by the carpet.
"Not my kind," said Stanley. "There are no kinds of elves I'd even want."
"Yes. All kinds."
"Look," said the Overlord, with cool contempt, "the Knights were perfect for me. Hobgobwins are mean and ugly. They wore black and white war paint, just like mine. They fought dirty, flew hard, and rocked out, just like me! They were baaaad. There was nothing in the whole world like them. Definitely not any elves!"
"Yeah, all kinds," said the tumbler on his desk. "Go get you some Juggle Elves, Kahuna."
Stanley stared at the glass. He'd never heard of the Juggle Elves, but he was picturing elves that wore jester costumes and juggled, like fools at court. "What are they, like clowns or something?"
"Yeah," said the glass. "They're something."
^ it's sic