Critical Failures VII

by Robert Bevan

  “How do we know if it worked?” asked Stacy. “Oh, I know. Dave, try to turn into a rat.”

  Dave thought that was a fine idea. One little scratch was all he needed, then Goosewaddle could hold her still while someone else poured that shit down her throat. It would be worth the ass-kicking he'd receive just for the chance to watch that.

  “Fuck you!” he cried before morphing into his hybrid form. The transformation was too much for his digestive system to handle. Though he could feel what was coming, he attempted to lunge at her anyway. The forcefulness with which he shat himself rivaled Cooper at his worst. He could hear splatter on the floor behind him as he dropped to his knees.

  “Hey Paul!” Jennifer shouted as Stacy cocked her fist back to launch it into Dave's face.

  Her hands were neither silver nor magical, but they hurt like hell. As she pummeled him again and again in the face, Dave didn't manage to land a single bite or scratch.

  He turned back into a dwarf and shielded his face from Stacy's fists. “That's enough! I'll talk!”

  The sadistic bitch finally stopped wailing on him long enough to catch her breath. “Sorry about that. You just freaked me out a little.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to not turn into a rat monster.”

  “You told me to!”

  Stacy laughed. “I guess I did. What I mean is that I want you to not be able to. I was trying to cure you.”

  “I don't have anything to cure,” said Dave as he sobbed in his own excrement. “What I have isn't a disease. It's a gift.” That had sounded a lot better when Tim and the other Rat Bastards said it during his orientation. It sounded really lame now that he was saying it aloud.

  “What is it now?” said Paul, coming in from the kitchen. “Oh, dear God!”

  Jennifer smiled at him. “The dwarf was just saying he had a gift. I think it's for you.”

  Paul sighed. “I'll get the mop.”

  “So the belladonna didn't work?” Stacy asked Professor Goosewaddle.

  “Of course it didn't.”

  “Why not? Did I cook it wrong?”

  “I am sure you cooked it just fine. It is not so specific a recipe as a potion. There is a much higher margin for error.”

  Stacy stared down into her pot. “Then why didn't it work?”

  “He has already turned. For the solution to be effective, it must be ingested before the full moon after the subject is inflicted.”

  “Then why did you let her do that to me?” cried Dave. “Why did you hold me while she poured that shit in my mouth?”

  Professor Goosewaddle shrugged. “Mostly for my own amusement. I have asked you a number of times not to return here, and yet you keep coming back. And you always bring trouble with you. I thought perhaps a particularly unpleasant experience might make this place less appealing to you.”

  Dave was so filled with rage that it was almost like it was filling the hollowness inside him left from his explosive diarrhea.

  “You're a real fucking piece of work, Goosewaddle! You know that? You think you're so great with your magic and your shitty food, but you're just a twisted old fuck! You're a sad little –”

  “SILENCE!” bellowed the professor much more severely than Dave thought such a little old gnome capable of.

  Dave shut his mouth. Then he thought, fuck it. It felt good to get such a rise out of him. If Goosewaddle wanted to kill him, at least it would be a quick death. Dave was tired of being everyone else's bitch. It was time for him to stand up for himself. The very fact that he was able to get the wrinkly little shit so riled up was an intoxicating feeling, and he wanted more of it, no matter what the cost.

  “I won't be silenced!” Dave shouted back at him. Or at least he tried to. No sound came out of his mouth. “Hey! Hello? What the fuck?” He could feel his vocal cords vibrating in his throat, but he couldn't hear shit. Was he deaf?

  “Jennifer and I will be having dinner at Popeye's,” Professor Goosewaddle stated calmly. “When I return, I expect all of you to be gone.” He turned to Paul, returning from the kitchen with a mop and bucket full of fresh water. “And I expect this floor to be clean enough to eat off of, or else you might find yourself doing just that.”

  Paul nodded. “Yes, Professor.”

  Dave wasn't deaf. He could hear just fine. He just couldn't speak. Goosewaddle hadn't lost his shit at him after all. He had just cast a Silence spell on him. That little son of a bitch.

  “Excuse me,” said Officer Williams. “Professor, is it?”

  Professor Goosewaddle's nostrils flared. “Yes?”

  “Did I hear you correctly? Did you say you were going to Popeye's?”

  “That is correct.”

  “As in Popeye's fried chicken?”

  “And biscuits, yes.”

  “There's a Popeye's here?”

  Professor Goosewaddle's bitter expression softened. He actually smiled. “Not yet.”

  “Would you mind if I went with you?”

  What? NO! No, no, no!

  All Dave had going for him right now were his revenge fantasies. He couldn't let Officer Williams leave without telling him about Tim and the Chicken Hut. He struggled to his feet, then lunged at the officer, who looked more freaked-out now than he had when he got shot.

  Instead of grabbing hold of Officer Williams, Dave was lifted off his feet and flung hard against the back wall, which he bounced off of before falling to the floor.

  Professor Goosewaddle wagged the finger he'd just been using to throw Dave around the room at Officer Williams. “For the last time, I am not a charity transportation service!”

  “Excuse me, Professor,” said Jennifer. “Maybe we should take this one back home. He's a police officer, and it looks like he's had a pretty rough day.”

  Officer Williams nodded at her. “I appreciate that, ma'am.”

  Professor Goosewaddle sighed. “Very well.”

  “I'd like to go to Popeye's,” said Paul.

  Jennifer glared at him like she'd just been possessed by the devil himself. “Clean the shit off the wall, Paul!”

  “Yes, ma'am. Right away.”

  Dave looked up at the wall. Judging by the L-shaped shit smudge his soiled robe had left behind, Goosewaddle had thrown him pretty high up there. That gave him a last-ditch effort idea. He scrambled on hands and knees to his shit on the floor, desperate to get there before Paul could mop it up and Officer William's fucked off to Popeye's.

  Paul wasn't a problem. He backed away when Dave approached. He backed away a little further when Dave poked a finger into his own shit and began scrawling out the letter T.

  “Dave!” said Stacy. “What are you doing?”

  Jennifer gagged and turned away from him. “This... This is disgusting. I can't watch this. Can we go now?”

  Dave quickly dragged his finger down to write an I.

  “Give me your hands,” said Professor Goosewaddle. Jennifer and Officer Williams took his outstretched hands, then held each other's.

  Dave wrote an M, then waved frantically to them.

  “I think he's trying to say something,” said Officer Williams. “T-I-M.”

  “Yeah,” said Jennifer. “Time to get the fuck out of here.”

  Professor Goosewaddle nodded. “Agreed.” He closed his eyes. “Popeye's.”

  With a crackle of magic, they vanished, leaving only a whiff of blue smoke behind.

  Chapter 40

  When Cooper squatted down to take a dump, Tim knew he had given up searching for him. His boots had one more Teleport in them for the day, but Tim didn't have anywhere to go. Cooper was the closest thing to a friend he had left.

  Besides, the Fertile Desert was a vast place, and Tim didn't know it well enough to Teleport back to a specific location within it. If he lost track of Cooper, he might not be able to find him again before the full moon. He wasn't sure how long he had before that happened, but he was sure that his one bottle of vodka wasn't going to hold out that
long.

  The desert sucked for the most part, but Tim was grateful that the insatiable thirst of the sand quickly sucked all the moisture out of Cooper's shit, along with most of the smell. Out of the dehydrated pile of turd sprouted a small cluster of pleasant-smelling herbs.

  As he squatted and shat, Cooper poured water in front of him from Katherine's Decanter of Endless Water. An eggplant stalk grew out of the sand, heavily laden with large ripe eggplants. Seemingly unimpressed, he moved the decanter slightly to the right and poured again. The water brought forth a stalk of corn, which grew out of the sand like a giant vegan's dick. Cooper moved the decanter to the right and poured again.

  Tim hadn't known Cooper to be such a fussy eater. But six plants later, he still wasn't satisfied with what the desert was offering him. What the hell was he holding out for? Or maybe this wasn't about vegetables at all. Maybe he was trying to build himself a stall of stalks for some privacy while he shat.

  Privacy from whom, though? As far as Cooper knew, Tim had teleported away. Besides, mid-shit was a little late to start thinking about modesty.

  The next plant to sprout was a head of cabbage. Bland as fuck and not great for a wall. Moving on.

  Except Cooper didn't move on.

  “There you go,” he said as he continued feeding the growing head more water. “Keep it coming, you big leafy bitch. That's it. Keep going.”

  The way he was talking to it sounded like he was trying to dehumanize it before paying it for sex. But who fucks a cabbage? Why couldn't he fuck a normal fruit like a pumpkin or watermelon? Even a banana would do if the peel was strong enough to hold together and the inside was mushy enough to penetrate.

  When it was big enough to satisfy his twisted desires, Cooper pulled the giant head of cabbage out of the sand and stood up. He tore off one of the large outer leaves and shoved it up under the ass side of his loincloth.

  “Oh, God! Fuck, that feels good!”

  Tim looked away. He couldn't bear to watch any more. Everyone was entitled to their own weird fetishes that not even their closest friends know about. So Cooper liked it up the ass. Maybe he was secretly into dudes, or maybe chicks with strap-ons. Tim wouldn't judge him for that. But he would continue to judge him on the fucking cabbage. There were so many other plants Tim could think of right off the top of his head that would be more appropriate for the job. Carrots, cucumbers, zucchinis. Hell, he already had eggplants and corn. Once again, a banana would make the perfect tool for this endeavor. With a bit of practice and the right kind of squeeze, he might be able to achieve a gush of sticky white fluid when he was ready for it. But a cabbage?

  While Cooper moaned and groaned with ecstasy, Tim resisted the urge to pull off his Ring of Invisibility and shame Cooper for his sexual food preferences. That wasn't intolerance. That was being a fucking friend. But he kept his head turned away, swigged down some vodka, and remained invisible. Their friendship was on shaky enough ground as it was. Maybe they could have this talk after Cooper turned. It would still be awkward, but Tim was confident that after he helped Cooper graduate from cabbages straight to bananas, their friendship would be solidified for life.

  “Jesus, Nabi!” Cooper continued. “It's been so long. This is incredible.”

  Who the fuck was Knobby? Probably some treant whore he shacked up with in the woods. That would explain his leaf fetish.

  “Sorry,” said Cooper, breathing heavily. “It got a little weird there for a second.”

  Come on, Cooper! Never apologize to the whore. That's what the money's for. And the whole point of a jerk-off fantasy is to get the apology-worthy shit out of your system so you don't actually go through with it for real.

  “It's just that I haven't had a proper wipe in ages. These cabbage leaves really do the trick though.”

  Unable to contain his morbid curiosity any longer, Tim threw caution to the wind and looked at Cooper. Instead of the gallon of cabbage-fetish-inspired splooge he expected to see, he saw four cabbage leaves at Cooper's feet, each soiled with lessening degrees of shit smears. The stupid asshole wasn't rubbing one out. He was wiping his ass. But who the fuck was he talking to?

  Tim looked down at himself to make sure he was still invisible. All he saw was sand. But who else was there? Was there some other invisible person hanging around with Cooper? Julian maybe?

  No, that was impossible. Julian didn't weigh much, but Tim would have known if Cooper had been carrying him when he tackled him, and he surely wouldn't have kept so quiet all this time.

  Had Cooper multiclassed and picked up a familiar or animal companion? Again, not likely. Cooper was nearly naked. The only place a critter could be hiding was up his ass, and that space had just been evacuated extremely thoroughly.

  The third and most likely explanation that Tim could think of was that Cooper was losing his goddamn mind.

  Cooper picked up his axe. “Which way should we go then?” After a moment of silently confirming Tim's third theory, he nodded. “Okay.” He started walking eastward, following the setting sun.

  No, you fucking idiot! You're lost in the desert. You're supposed to sit tight and wait for me.

  He had the bare essentials, infinite water and all the food he could eat, even if it was only fruits and vegetables. Why would he risk getting more lost in the desert when he knew Tim was going to come back for him?

  Then again, that Decanter of Endless Water meant that he was just as capable of surviving on the go as he was staying put. If he traveled far enough in any direction, there was a chance that he might make it out of the desert in time to find an antidote before the next full moon. It was a smart decision.

  Why the fuck is he picking now to make a smart decision? Asshole!

  Tim calmed himself and thought about it. This wasn't any big setback. It might have been if he'd actually teleported away, but all he had to do now was find some way to slow Cooper down or trick him into walking in circles. With a little imagination, neither of those should be a problem.

  He followed at a distance in his hybrid form, keeping himself concealed by hopping from one of Cooper's big footsteps to the next, thinking of ways he could sabotage his friend's journey.

  Pour sand in his eyes while he slept? Tim shuddered at the thought. Not only was it a huge dick move, but it would be difficult to pull off without getting caught. Besides, that would only be a temporary delay. Cooper would be able to easily flush out his eyes with the Decanter of Endless water and be back on his feet in half an hour or so.

  That gave Tim another idea. Steal the Decanter of Endless Water. He could make fruit grow in whatever direction he wanted Cooper to travel, and Cooper wouldn't have any choice but follow. But he'd almost certainly figure out that Tim was behind it, and Tim would be vulnerable to being discovered while he slept. The idea still might work with a bit of finessing. He'd come back to it if he didn't think of anything better.

  He thought up and shot down a number of other ideas as the sun fell below the horizon. When it got dark enough so that the stars were visible, Tim couldn't see Cooper ahead of him, though he could still hear him talking to himself occasionally. The half moon provided enough light for Tim to follow his footprints, but he no longer worried about hopping from one to the next.

  A loud fart broke the desert night silence, alerting Tim that he was almost right on top of Cooper. He must be settling down for the night.

  He crept forward, invisible but wary of making any sudden movements, until he could see Cooper lying on the sand with his axe next to him and staring up at the stars.

  “Tim's not a bad person,” he said to no one. “He's just impulsive, and makes a lot of bad choices.”

  That was rich coming from a guy who once got suspended for muttering that sixty-three Earths could fit inside his science teacher's mom's anus.

  “Evil comes and goes. His sister used to be a vampire.” After a pause, Cooper shook his head. “No, she got it sorted out.” He yawned, then closed his eyes. “It's complicated, and I'm tired.
We've got a long walk ahead of us in the morning. I'll tell you about it then.” He patted his axe affectionately. “Good night, Nabi.”

  Tim watched with morbid fascination. Cooper was out of his fucking mind. He guessed that's what happens when you ditch your best friend and have to rely on Julian and Dave for companionship. But the axe gave Tim an idea. What better way to cripple Cooper's movement than to just fucking cripple him?

  There were a few down sides, sure. An attack would turn Tim instantly visible, so he wouldn't be able to deny doing it. And Cooper would probably hold a grudge about it until he grew a new foot.

  But on the other hand, it would be totally effective. Cooper wouldn't be going very far with one foot. He wouldn't even be able to chase Tim, which would give him time to rationally explain why he had to do what he did, and that Cooper would thank him for it in time. A simple Regeneration spell would put him back on two feet, and Tim would save the old one so they could laugh about it later.

  After a long swig to steady his nerves, he set his vodka bottle down in the sand. He wasn't quite as nimble in his Boots of Teleportation as he was barefoot, but the sand was soft, and Cooper's heavy snoring was loud enough to cover any noise he inadvertently made. Even louder was the sound of his heart pumping in his ears. They might laugh about it later, but now that he was actually creeping toward the axe he would use to chop his best friend's foot off, the whole idea was beginning to seem much more fucked-up.

  It's a good plan, Tim. Keep your shit together. It only seems fucked-up because your mind's stuck in the real world. You can grow his foot back. You're both going to laugh about this, remember?

  Tim nodded to himself and wiped his sweaty rat palms on his thighs as he crept closer to the axe.

  His fingers slid through the sand under the handle like burrowing snakes. The cool desert night air chilled his sweat through his bristling fur as he gently lifted the axe off the ground. It was heavy, but not quite as heavy as it looked.

  Running a thumb along the blade's edge, it felt plenty sharp enough to cut through a leg, but this was Tim's first time trying to sever a limb. He really hoped the foot came off on the first swing. He could probably get in a second swing if he had to, but it would be even more difficult to follow through with it if Cooper was awake. Then again, there would be no turning back at that point, so it would be even more necessary as well.