Necessity may be the mother of Invention, but Spite can make for an exceptional foster parent. -- AmberFox
Is there any phrase more simultaneously motivating and de-motivating than "you can't"? Whether or not someone takes it to heart, or how they take it to heart, is a matter of importance.
"You can't do that, you simply lack the mental capacity," is a good one that has inspired many to prove the naysayer wrong. Of course, such proof is almost inevitably dismissed as a fluke by said naysayer.
"You can't do that, you're too small," has made many find a way anyway. Sometimes, this has not worked out so well, but others... well. They learn how to stand on the shoulders of giants, one way or another.
Sometimes... literally.
Perylwyg let Ganthor call him 'Wig' since the intricacies of correct Gnomish pronunciation were lost on a Gargantuan Barbarian with a far more basic set of beginner phonemes. They had a hard enough time figuring out more numbers than they had fingers, after all. The two of them had it agreed. Wig was the brains of the outfit, and Gan was the muscle.
In truth, the people opposed to them had more to fear from Wig's fast tongue than Gan's almost stereotypical club.
Everyone around them assumed that Wig was the one standing on the shoulders of giants. They didn't know that the metaphor worked both ways. Everyone around them assumed that Gan was unintelligent because their grasp of the common tongue was simplistic. They didn't know that Gan was listening. They wouldn't even try to guess that Gan was learning.
"So you see my friend, the charm I have made as we agreed has most definitely cost us more in the field of time and effort. Acquisition of construction materials, wear and tear on equipment, your -ah- misleading directions to one of the sources lead to some extra grief on our part," said Wig. He could certainly fit in the words per second.
"You dint tell us there was a balrog," rumbled Gan.
"Oh yes, thank you, I had almost forgotten the balrog," said Wig. "Trauma-related memory lapse, I'm sure you've had a few. You're a being of experience, I can tell. And though I don't feel right charging you extra for a simple lapse of memory, I have to consider our needs that have resulted from such an easy mistake that I must confess to making myself, many a time. Many a time. You see, my friend, neither of us are that practiced in the healing arts, and since urgency was a factor, we had to go through more than our predicted amount of healing potions."
"Need more potions," said Gan. "Potions cost gold. Don't have gold."
"That's the exact chain of logic I was working to establish, thank you my esteemed colleague for putting it so succinctly for our able client. As my brobdingnagian ally has so eloquently summarised, there was very little in the way of spendable coin found during our adventure for supplies for this astonishingly small trinket. Why, it simply amazes me that such a small thing has cost so few so much. As I previously stated, my friend, it simply breaks my heart to charge you extra for the very prize we have both worked so hard to manufacture on your behalf."
Their client was nodding like one hypnotised. It had to be the rhythm of it, Gan theorised. The fast talking wasn't enough. The big words did mislead, but the use of the words. The compliments mixed with the bad news of the extra charges provided a pretty wrapping around what was - metaphorically speaking - a big old turd.
Wig was always careful to let the sucker walk away thinking they had the better of the deal, and never took more than they could afford to lose. Gaining the knack of Wig's assessing eye was what Gan considered long term goals.
They had once told Gan, "You can't, you're too stupid." Gan was going to show them.
Right now? They were learning by standing -metaphorically- on the shoulders of an intellectual giant.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / gearstd]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends!
Send me a prompt [87 remaining prompts!]