An Elf and a Dwarf Approach a Mine
Don't let it be forgot, that once there was a spot, for one brief shining moment, that was known as mine-a-lot
As the elf and the dwarf walked along, they soon came to the mountain range that held the mines the dwarf came from.
“Hey, this is near your home, isn’t it?” asked the elf
“Mmm hmm,” said the dwarf nonchalantly.
“Aren’t you happy to be back home?”
“Eh”
“What’s wrong with your home? Got a bearded wife waiting for you with a pan to throw at your head or something?”
The dwarf rolled his eyes.
“Get real, twinkle toes. Dwarf wives are drop-dead gorgeous. We tell the bearded woman bit to throw people off, and to keep Hollywood scouts away.”
“So why the long face at the thought of returning home?”
“You ever see a mine?”
“No” said the elf as he scratched behind his right ear, “can’t say I’ve had the, uh, pleasure.”
“It ain’t no pleasure, bub. It’s musty and dark and it messes with your allergies.”
“But it contains untold riches,” objected the elf.
“Dude, it’s been told, or else you wouldn’t have heard of it,” said the dwarf. “I mean, our PR guys aren’t obvious about it, so yeah, it’s rumors and social media memes and the like, not press releases. But c’mon, you really think most of that stuff is real? Sure, we found a few nuggets of gold, but most of it is lab-grown in the far eastern lands where the factories put out an endless supply of golden-colored some kind of metal if you get my drift.”
The elf stopped and pointed.
“Ah, we are near the entrance to your mine!”
“Yeah, yeah,” said the dwarf.
“But this is the place your father’s father’s father founded!”
“If you mean my great-grandpappy signed a lease from the slumlord back in the day, and now the place is overrun with artists forging duplexes and charging eye-watering rent, yeah, this is the place.”
“You’re right,” said the elf, “‘on second thought let’s not go to the mines. ‘Tis a silly place.”