Day Ten
I awoke to the noise of excited chattering beyond the canvas of my tent. Temporarily swordless, I reached for the sturdy club that I had been using in the interval, and sometimes using as an anal stimulator when my whacking sessions needed that extra oomph.
Hobgoblins. Dozens of them. They leapt at me, razored claws retracted, screaming their squeaky battlecries. Adorable.
My first swing turned three skulls into goblin pasta. The next ripped through their tiny torsos like a hot dick through a bunch of ugly little butter sculptures, cutting at least one of them clean in half. The few left unmangled soon scampered away, shouting vaguely hurtful insults and edgy alt-right rhetoric as they disappeared into the foliage.
And as for the corpses, well... let's just say that breakfast took care of itself that morning.
Bloated with gobby burgers and covered in green blood, I decided to wash up in the nearby stream. But when I got there, looking down into the crystalline waters, I found a pair of tits staring back at me.
Damn. I checked between my legs. Yup. That potion really
had bent my gender.
Whatever. A few good dungeon crawls, and I'd have more than enough gold to get myself changed back.
I spent the next few minutes cleaning up and playing with my new tits, and then broke camp.
As I prepared to leave, I knelt down and opened my mind, praying to the Mods for guidance. Maybe they could give me a hot tip on some good bandit lairs.
Wolverinewolfweiselpigeon answered the call.
"
Ayyyyyy," she sang, waving to me through a thick haze of smoke. "Just got the Incepta-Bong fixed. You wanna come by for a rip?"
"Uh, I -"
"Oh, wait," she said, raising a hand to her mouth and giggling like an anime bitch. "I forgot. You couldn't get an invite to Mount Olympus.
Loooooool."
"Yup," I sighed, trying not to roll my eyes. "Look, I just called to ask for some advice."
"Oh? 'Bout what?"
"Uh... my quest?"
"
Oh yeeeeaaahhh..." she smiled, shooing away an oiled up beefcake grape-bearer. "How's that been workin' out for ya'?"
"Fine. But I could use some pointers. Hence the prayer-call."
"Oh, sure. Some pointers. Like, on how to tap into the essence of the True Mod, and ascend above the dregs of mediocritous humanity, or whatever?"
"Or just a heads up on where the nearest thing to kill is would be fine."
"Can do, bro," she said, cracking her knuckles. Raising her hands to her temples, she scrunched her face like she was straining her mind, or just taking a really painful ****. "
Oooh. I'm scanning the area around you. Really scouring around. And it looks like... the nearest thing to kill... is..." Opening her eyes, she laughed and blew a raspberry. "
You. As in, kill yourself, dork. Ha ha ha! How d'ya like that? Mod clan ain't nothin' ta **** wit!"
"Oh, shut up, bitch."
"
Aaaaaaaaand infracted," she grinned, dropping an invisible gavel.
"Oh yeah? Infract
these, bitch," I said, standing up to show her my rockin' new pair of tits. "I've only had them for one morning, and they're already bigger than yours."
"Oh shiiiiiiiiiit," she laughed. "Those
are pretty nice. Infraction lifted, I guess. Anyway, I've gotta run. Janszoon just tossed up some edibles all over my carpet. Have fun with your quest
thiiiiing byyyyeeee."
Well ****. What a waste of time.
I needed something to kill.
Trekking my way to the nearest road, I followed it for a few miles. Not much happened. There were some gooey skeletons. A crow looked at me. I smashed it. Cheeky little ****er.
Eventually, I ended up in yet another generic fantasy pastiche village. Oh joy.
Gods, I was done. Done with that ****. I saw those cutesy little cottages and those jolly woodcutters, and I just couldn't. I kept my gaze locked to the ground as I trundled to the nearest tavern to get ****faced, knowing that if I for any reason had to look back up, had to look at that ****ing village one more time, I would just start swinging. It would just happen. It does sometimes, you know. I start swinging, and I don't stop until everything is... well, whatever color blood the people around here have.
Life is so much simpler when you reduce it to a swing. Good? Evil? No. Swing.
Rich? Poor? Swing.
Human? Monster? Swing.
All is swing.
Swing.
And then I wake up naked inside of a pile of body parts.
Just a few steps from the tavern, some tubby baker gets in my way, trying to sell me some freshly baked rolls. I told him that he could bake himself a roll shaped like a vagina and go **** it. Then I pushed him away.
Some town guards saw that ****, and rushed in.
I was so close. One of my feet had found the porch steps. And then I felt their hands drop on my shoulders.
"Awlroight," one of them said, because of course he was a limey. "Wot's all this, then? You havin' a loff, you saucy wanka? Don you know we don stand for sush ooliganism in ese pahts?"
"Let me go."
They had a chuckle. "Oi wiw naught. In fact, oi think you beh-ur come along wiff us. Roight
now."
Swing.
"I'm serious. Let me go."
Their grips tightened. They started to pull me back.
Swing.
"You ear at, Chahleigh?" laughed one of them. "Ee wants us to let im go. Wehw, maybe we
should..."
"Aye," chuckled the other. "Wiw let im go, awlroight." He leaned in closer to me. I could feel his limey breath on my neck. "
To hell."
And then I turned around.
And smiled.
And swang.