Mogror Harbett stood next to the Empress as she sat on her adamantine throne barking orders to peasants and nobles alike. He was the Engineer of Death and defacto Chief Adviser. Every now and again he would bend over to whisper into the Imperial ear.
And so when one of Jewelettarette's sons came to the royal court, the Empress looked to Mogror to tell her what this eight year old brats name was.
"Who." replied Mogror.
"This boy right here." pointed Urist.
"Who, your majesty." replied Mogror again.
Urist paused and glared at her adviser. "This brat right here....what is his name?"
"Who."
"Dammit Mogror!" The Empress stood up and walked to the young boy. She grabbed him and shook him back and forth violently. "THIS CHILD RIGHT HERE!!! WHAT IS HIS NAME???!!!"
"No, What lives in another fortress, your majesty!" explained Mogror.
Urist was puzzled and scrunched her face into a grimace. "What are you talking about?"
"Yes you're majesty. And you're talking about Who."
"I dont know, that's what I'm trying to figure out!"
"No no....Who IS the dwarf you are talking about!"
"What? I pointed him out quite clearly!"
"What isnt here. Who is THIS dwarf!" Mogror shouted, pointing his finger at Who.
"What are you asking me for? I'm asking you!!!!" cried the Empress in exasperation.
The Abbot and Costello bit goes on for ages, and eventually Who get's moody and withdraws from the court.
He had come to ask for shell for his great craft he was working on...
But there was no shell in the fortress, and so he became horribly depressed.
He flung himself from a very high place...such is the trauma brought on by lack of shell.