by Robert Bevan
“It’s your lucky day, lady,” said Cooper. He pulled down his loincloth and stepped out of it. “So you wanna do this here? Or should we –”
“You can accompany me inside.” Annie took Cooper by the arm and led him to the mound, not looking the least bit put off by the sight of his schlong, even though it looked like a Dali painting of a rotting ear of corn.
“I don’t know who I feel worse for,” said Julian.
Dave nodded grimly, but Tim had just up and disappeared.
The sneaky little jerk was walking out of the mound, sucking back stonepiss from his flask, as Annie and Cooper approached. As soon as he cleared the vines hanging over the entrance and saw Cooper’s junk, he spit out what he’d been drinking.
“Jesus Christ, dude! You couldn’t wait until you got inside?”
The next couple of minutes seemed like years. How is one supposed to pass the time while one’s friend attempts to impregnate a giant blue hag a few yards away?
The other two annis didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. They merely watched Dave, Tim, and Julian.
“Salut,” said Tim. He took a small swig from his flask. One of the annis winked at him. He took a much larger swig.
Only about a minute of awkward silence followed before an ear-shattering scream sent birds flying out of trees all around the clearing. It was Annie.
“Ow!” said Cooper. “What the fuck is wrong with you, lady? No, don’t – Ow, goddammit! Knock that shit off!” He ran out of the mound bleeding a pattern of diamonds from the chest. Four deep cuts from either shoulder, crisscrossing downward to his belly.
Annie came out after him, seething at the entrance, naked as the day she clawed her way out of her mother’s wrinkly blue vag. Her breasts hung like a couple of moldy pomegranates in crusty tube socks. The carpet matched the drapes, right down to the bugs and worms.
“How dare you!” cried Annie. “We shall revel in your slow and agonizing deaths!”
“Hold on,” said Julian. “Let’s everyone just calm down, huh? Whatever happened, I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.”
“You are in no position to negotiate, elf. You have nothing we want.”
“But what about Option C? We could get you that omelet.”
“Amulet,” said Dave.
“Sorry. I’m just hungry. Amulet. What was it called? The –”
“The Amulet of Mighty Monkey Fisting!” said Cooper.
Annie’s face briefly showed more confusion than anger.
Julian frowned. “I’m sure it wasn’t that.”
“The Amulet of Mighty Fists,” said Tim. He glared at Cooper. “Worn by a monk. Not a monkey.”
Annie didn’t immediately reject the idea, but she was going to need some more convincing. Julian was trying to think of how best to exaggerate their qualifications for the job when the other two annis escorted Annie back into the mound.
“Think of the power!” said one of the other annis. “Think of Lord Wallace. How he disgraced us. The amulet will tip the balance of power. We can paint the walls of his keep with the blood of his sons.”
“The amulet is gone,” said Annie. “We searched the monk’s body and could not find it. What makes you think those four fools will have any better fortune?”
“The elf is versed in the ways of magic. He can spot with ease what is hidden from our old eyes.”
Annie re-emerged from the mound. Thankfully, she was once again dressed, and seemed to have calmed down a little.
“Very well, elf. You have one more chance. Fail me again and all the sniveling in the world won’t save your precious bird.”
She wasn’t bothering with niceties anymore. All they could do was find that amulet.
“Can we have our weapons back?” asked Dave.
“No.”
Julian looked down at his feet, one booted, the other bare. He probably shouldn’t push his luck, but one more good Diplomacy roll could make a hell of a difference strolling around in the woods.
“Can I at least have my boot?”
“GET OUT OF HERE!” screamed Annie. Even the bugs in her hair burrowed deeper in fear. Julian tried not to stare.
Julian backed away, and Cooper took a step toward his loincloth.
Annie hissed and brandished her fingernails, causing Cooper to stop dead in his tracks. She hobbled quickly to the loincloth, picked it up, tore it to pieces, and threw the pieces into the fire under the cauldron.
Cooper frowned. “That’s just mean.”
“Let’s go,” said Tim.
Julian looked up at Ravenus as they passed underneath him. “I’ll be back for you.”
“Very good, sir. Do try not to be too long.”
Just before they exited the clearing, a haggard old voice called from behind them. “Wait.”
One of the subordinate annis had followed them. She held up a blue gemstone hanging from a silver chain. “There is danger in the forest. Wear this.” Strangely enough, she offered it specifically to Cooper.
“Okay, thanks.” Cooper looped the chain over his head. The stone rested high on his chest. It was a gaudy piece of jewelry which looked especially out of place on his bleeding torso.
The annis twitched her fingernails. “Travel north until you reach a creek bed, full of stones and roots where once there ran water. Follow it eastward until you see the Great Elm. Beneath its mossy branches, you should find the remains of the deceased monk. I suggest you begin your search there.”
“Awesome,” said Tim. “Thanks for the tip.” He clapped his hands together. “Well, daylight’s a-wastin’.” Not the most polite way to disengage conversation, but it got the job done. The hag retreated back to her mound, and Julian, Tim, Dave, and Cooper stepped into the forest.
Once they were a little ways out of the clearing, Tim turned around abruptly and glared up at Cooper. “Do you mind telling me just what the fuck happened back there?”
“I’m in a little bit of pain here,” said Cooper. The entire front of his body was sticky with fresh blood, still running from his chest, coating his belly, and dripping from his dong. He pointed at Dave. “Dude, how about shooting me some fucking Hit Points?”
Dave touched Cooper’s finger. “I heal thee.”
Cooper farted ecstatically as his wounds closed up. “Oh that feels so much better.”
“All right,” said Tim. “Spill it. What did you do to piss her off like that?”
Cooper shrugged. “Fuck if I know. I stuck my finger up her ass, and she flipped the fuck out.”
“What the... Why would you...” Tim was trembling with frustrated rage. “Do you even know how fucking babies are made?”
“I thought that was, like, their thing. You and Dave both told me to probe her anus.”
“We said probe the... You know what? Never mind that. How would we even know if that was her thing?”
“Maybe it was in the Monster Manual. I thought it was weird, but you both insisted, so...”
“Have you ever seen anything like an anal fetish in any of the monster descriptions?”
“Hang on,” said Dave. “Is that the finger I touched to heal you?”
“Um...”
“Goddammit, Cooper!”
“Shut up,” said Julian. “Let’s just go and find the amulet. She said to go north, right?”
“Maybe,” said Dave. “She was so gross, I was having trouble paying attention.”
Tim nodded. “I zoned in and out. North sounds good.”
In the distance, some kind of beast let out a terrible howl.
“That came from the north, didn’t it?” said Julian.
Dave sighed. “Of course it did.”
They trudged along at the speed of Dave, which was just fine with Julian. His right foot was aching from all the rocks, twigs, and roots he was stepping on. Removing his other boot might have distributed the pain more evenly, or it might have just made his left foot as sore as his right one. He kept his one boot on for now.
Half a
n hour later, they came to a dry creek bed, which prompted a memory of the annis having mentioned one.
“Okay,” said Julian. “This is a good place to take a rest.” Before anyone could object, he sat down on a big rock and started rubbing his foot.
No one seemed remotely interested in objecting. Tim sat against a tree and had a drink. Dave picked bits of dried vomit out of his beard. Cooper scooped up a fistful of dirt and scrubbed the dried blood off his chest, belly, and junk.
As he massaged the soreness out of his foot, Julian looked down the creek bed to see if he could get some idea of the terrain. A deer nibbled on some leaves about fifty yards ahead. Just a deer. No wings or tentacles or extra legs or anything. Just a simple white-tailed deer. There was something reassuring in that. It put Julian’s mind at ease.
“Guys,” he whispered. “Take a look at that.”
There was an air of peace and awe as everyone stared at the deer, soon broken as a blur of white crashed out of the branches above.
Julian, Tim, Cooper, and Dave ducked into the creek bed like they’d been sucked into it by a force more powerful than gravity.
“What the hell was that?” asked Julian.
“A girallon,” said Dave.
Julian peeked over the bank.
The giant, four-armed, albino gorilla grabbed the deer by the antlers and savagely slammed its body against the trunk of the tree it had just been nibbling until the antlers snapped off. It paused for a second, staring first at the very dead deer on the ground, then at the antlers in its hands. Apparently not a fan of shoddy animal craftsmanship, the girallon screamed and pounced onto its prey, pounding the shit out of it with all four of its fists.
“Goddamn,” whispered Cooper, who had joined Julian at the bank. He squeaked out a soft fart. “Sorry.”
Julian couldn’t blame him. He was relieved that he was able to remain in control of his own bodily functions while witnessing such a brutal attack on another living thing. And as Cooper’s farts went, it was a pretty tame one.
The girallon bit into the side of the deer and tore away a massive amount of flesh and fur, which it spat on the ground so that it could continue tearing the rest of the corpse apart. After about ten more seconds of ripping apart the deer, the girallon froze. A second later, it turned around, vaguely facing Julian’s direction. It twitched its nostrils, pivoting its head back and forth more and more narrowly, gradually homing in on Julian’s exact location.
It took a step toward them, still sniffing the air. Julian and Cooper ducked down.
“It’s coming this way,” said Julian. “I think it picked up Cooper’s fart.”
Cooper stuck out his bottom lip. “I was nervous.”
“I know. I was too. Maybe it’ll just go away if we’re really quiet and don’t fart anymore.”
Dave shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We have to pass through its territory. Shouldn’t we confront it while we know where it is instead of waiting for it to jump out of a tree and catch us off guard?”
“Confront it with what?” said Julian. “We don’t have any weapons. Did you not see that thing?”
“What happened to ‘That’s so stupid. It’s just a gorilla with two extra arms’?”
Julian couldn’t believe Dave wanted to use what little time they had to gloat, but he felt he had to defend his statement. “Just because it’s big and scary doesn’t mean it’s any less ridiculous a concept. Yeah, it could probably kill us all in under a minute, but that doesn’t change the fact that it looks like a short guy waving his arms behind a tall guy.”
“Brilliant,” said Tim. He looked at Cooper, then at Dave.
Dave shook his head. “No fucking way.”
Tim took a swig from his flask. “It’s the only way, Dave.” He offered the flask to Dave, who accepted it and gulped down most of what was left.
Cooper scratched under his armpit. “So... What’s going on?”
A minute later, Dave was silently sobbing with the side of his face pressed into the small of Cooper’s back.
“Stop crying, Dave,” said Cooper. “This isn’t any more fun for me than it is for you. And keep still. Your beard is tickling my ass.”
Julian and Tim scrambled under some exposed tree roots so that they could watch without being seen.
Together, with tiny strides for Cooper and long strides for Dave, they walked out of the creek bed.
The girallon stopped sniffing the air when it spotted something not entirely unlike itself. It barked what Julian hoped was a friendly greeting. It didn’t sound all that friendly. Dave waved his left hand.
They were all going to die.
Cooper barked back an impressive imitation of the girallon’s initiating call.
The girallon approached warily on its legs and lower arms. Cooper and Dave stood their ground, probably because there was no way they’d be able to imitate the girallon’s walk.
When it got within five feet of them, the girallon attempted to look over Cooper’s left shoulder. Cooper turned left, and Dave sidestepped behind him. When it tried to look right, they repeated the move in the opposite direction.
“I think this is a good sign,” said Julian. “It suspects something’s amiss, but it’s too dumb to know exactly what’s wrong. It’s not perfect, but under the circumstances...” He realized he was talking to himself. Tim was nowhere around.
The girallon leaned in to get a close look and a good sniff of Cooper’s junk. A fart wheezed out like the last note of a dying trumpet player. Dave’s fists balled up tight enough so that solid iron might ooze out from between his fingers if he’d been holding some.
The girallon stood on its legs alone, its head rising a good foot and a half above Cooper’s. It roared what sounded to Julian like a challenge, and pounded its chest and abdomen with its fists. It sounded like it was carved out of wood.
“Raaaaahhhh!” said Cooper, thumping his own chest as Dave flailed his fists against the sides of his belly, which sounded more like someone slapping a waterbed.
A stream of urine spouted out from between the girallon’s legs, forming a puddle at Cooper’s feet. Perhaps the relative sizes of their members was another point of contention. Julian could hardly make out the tip of the girallon’s penis poking out from its fur. It must have been as small as Tim’s, which Julian had seen more times than he’d ever wanted to. But to the beast’s credit, he put out some strong-smelling urine. Julian could smell it from way over by the creek bed, like spoiled meat marinated in vinegar.
Cooper was doing an admirable job of not pissing himself for once. He stood his ground while the girallon pissed gallons of urine in a stream that Julian thought would never end. It finally did end when the girallon lost its shit for what seemed like no reason at all.
It screamed and bared its fangs just before punching Cooper in the side of the head, sending him a good five feet away from Dave.
The girallon stopped screaming and stared down at Dave, then at Cooper who was struggling back to his feet, and then at Dave again.
“Fuck,” said Julian.
“Fuck,” said Dave.
“FUCK YOU!” said Tim, from somewhere above everyone else.
The girallon looked up, and its face was met with a falling backpack. Judging by the impact, it was full of rocks.
Dave took advantage of the distraction, running between the girallon’s legs and Super Mario punching it in the nuts.
There was no longer any point in hiding, so Julian grabbed a rock from the creek bed and ran over to join the fray.
While the girallon cradled his balls, Cooper jumped on its back and caught it around the neck in a choke hold.
The girallon backed up hard into a tree trunk.
“Ugh,” said Cooper, squashed in between. But he kept his hold.
“Shit!” said Tim as he fell out of the tree. He caught one of the beast’s flailing upper arms, wrapping his own arms and legs around it.
Dave did likewise, wrapping his a
rms and legs around one of the girallon’s legs. The poor creature looked like it was working at a daycare for troubled youths.
By the time Julian reached the fight, it looked to be just about over. The girallon’s formerly pink face was now a deep shade of purple, and the arm supporting Tim’s weight hung limp at its side. Its free upper arm took some desperate swipes at Cooper, but didn’t have the reach.
Finally, it just couldn’t stand anymore. It fell forward to its preferred walking position on legs and lower arms, then the arms buckled and it collapsed onto its face.
“Hurry up!” Cooper said to Julian. “Bash its brains in with your rock.”
Julian frowned down at his rock. “It’s helpless. Can’t we just leave it unconscious?”
“You can be such an idiot,” said Dave, pushing himself up from between the creature’s legs. “It was your stupid idea that almost got us killed. And now you want to leave it alive so it can wake up pissed off and have another go at us?”
“It was my idea,” said Tim. “Julian only inspired it.” He too had let go of the girallon, and was now staring down into its piss puddle. “And it worked. Cooper, punch it in the head a few times if you like, but stick to non-lethal damage. It doesn’t deserve to die for defending its territory.”
Dave stomped over toward Tim. “Have you all lost your minds? Since when do you give a shit about animal rights or whatever? And how can you possibly say that your stupid idea worked?”
Tim looked down at Dave’s crotch, then at his legs where his armor was dripping. “You pissed yourself, didn’t you?”
“And you, of all people, are going to judge me for that? Do you know how many times you’ve pissed yourself since we’ve been stuck in this game? It’s like you think you’re going to win a prize if you do it enough. I thought I was going to die with my face in Cooper’s ass, so don’t even –”
“I’m not judging you,” said Tim. “I’m just saying that my idea was working until you blew it.” He gestured down to the piss puddle.
“What are you talking about?”
Tim squatted down over the puddle. “See this big puddle here? That’s where the girallon pissed. He was marking his territory. And that little puddle over there, that’s where you pissed. And see this little stream running from that one to this one? When your urine mixed with his, you challenged his territorial claim. That’s when he went apeshit, if you’ll pardon the pun.”