by Dante King
“All right,” he said.
As if they had been waiting for the word from their alpha, Dhor and Ike stepped forward and shoved Damien and Rick backward. Well, Ike shoved Damien backward, but Dhor may just as well have tried man-handling the Washington Monument, so little effect did he have on Rick. Rick, however, got the message and took a step backward. The Dwarf and the Frost Elemental grabbed hold of the keg and bundled it through the front door and into Frat Douche.
“This is ours now,” Qildro said in his reptilian voice, his thin hands clasped in front of him like a young Mr. Burns. “Thanks for the gift. Now, fuck off and go and drink your own.”
I looked levelly at the Dark Mage. “I’ve always been of the opinion that it's best to talk to the head of an organization, Qildro, not the ass.”
I turned my eyes to Arun. “Can we consider the quarrel settled, then?”
In answer, Arun slammed the door of the frat mansion in my face.
I smiled at the blue painted wood.
“Hook, line, and sinker, bitch,” Damien growled in my ear.
We made it to the end of the hedge maze and back out onto the road, before Damien turned to Rick and said to the Earth Mage, “Hey, Rick—” There was a mischievous light shining in his coal-black eyes.
With uncharacteristic speed, Rick said, “Friend, I am not going to be fooled twice.”
Then he clamped a big hand over Damien’s open mouth and said, “Damien’s right hand is the fairest of them all.”
Instantly, Damien’s eyes glazed, just as Nigel’s had, and he stuffed his hand down the front of his tight pants and started jacking away like it was the end of the universe.
“Uh, Rick,” Bradley said, but it was way too late for that.
Rick had made the extremely fundamental mistake of forgetting that he had drunk the potion himself. It was akin to forgetting that you were standing next to a man when you launched a homing missile at him. He had whispered the words which had made Damien suddenly start tugging away, but he had also inadvertently given himself a magical obsession with Damien’s right hand.
Rick’s eyes glazed, and he made an unusually swift lurch toward Damien, no doubt intent on getting hold of the Fire Mage’s right hand so that he could inflict some serious damage on it with his trouser snake.
In a flash of lightning quick thinking, Bradley went Crimson Titan. The plates of gelatinous, fire-based armor fanned out to encase his magically enhanced body and musculature. In a couple of steps, he grabbed Rick and managed to wrench him away from Damien, who was so consumed with beating himself off that he hadn’t even reacted to Rick trying to rip his arm out of his socket so that the Earth Elemental could get at his hand.
“We need to get these idiots back to the fraternity!” Bradley said, already hauling Rick off down the path. “If Arun or any of those other gents come out here and see this, it’s not going to take them long to put two and two together and discard that keg!”
He was right. He might have been a pompous ass when we first met, but Bradley Flamewalker was not an idiot.
Taking my frat bros lead, I utilized my new Metamorphosis spell. My skin hardened and expanded into armored plates along the major bones of my body. I realized now that this transformation also included a boost of strength. With this Gemstone Elemental spell, it was easy to get Damien in a half-nelson and steer him away toward our frat house.
The walk back to our humble abode wasn’t as much of a slog as it would have been had Bradley and I not been able to conjure the extra strength and protection afforded us by our different spells. Rick would certainly have been too much of a handful for either of us. As it was, Bradley towed him down the road like a tugboat guiding a recalcitrant oil tanker into port. Damien was totally absorbed with trying to break the world record for most wanks per minute, so as long as I retained a strong grip on his right arm, I was in no real danger of anything truly awful happening.
Once we’d got our horny handfuckers back to the frat, we locked them in their respective rooms in the same way we’d done with Nigel. They were so overwhelmed by the single pressing desire to have sex with Damien’s hand that they lacked the neurons required to try anything clever in getting out of their rooms. Rick, big and strong as an ox, required added security, so Bradley and I overturned a heavy oak shelving unit in front of his door to act as an extra barrier. We left Damien jacking himself silly in the middle of his bedroom and closed the door quietly behind us before locking it.
“You ever heard of anyone jerking themselves to death?” I asked Bradley.
Bradley snorted and shook his head.
“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” I said.
Seeing as we had three brothers out of action for an undetermined amount of time, it was up to Bradley and I to follow through with the rest of the plan. We cancelled our strengthening spells and ran downstairs.
“Hey, Justin, have you thought about what’s going to happen if anyone goes over to Frat Douche early?” Bradley asked. “If anyone randomly drinks from the keg?”
I had thought about this. Quite a lot in fact. I hadn’t wanted there to be any collateral damage, but it might prove unavoidable.
“Look, at the end of the day, no one is going to die, right?” I said.
Bradley nodded.
“Sometimes I need a little verbal reassurance, low-man,” I said.
“No,” Bradley said. “No one will die. Probably.”
“Good enough. Anyway, those a-holes don’t strike me as the sort to share their booze, especially not booze that they’ve been given as a peace-offering. They’ll be preloading right now, I reckon.”
“We better get our backsides into gear, then,” Bradley said.
I nodded my agreement, and we jogged back into town, heading for the edge of Nevermoor and our unsuspecting porcine accomplices.
When we reached the cottages on the outer edge of Nevermoor, the sun was setting. We had to linger about for a while, while a few villagers strolled past on their way back home from work, or off to the taverns for an evening’s revelry.
“Hey man,” I said to Bradley as we leaned nonchalantly against a fence and watched a bunch of hogs digging about by their trough. “I just thought. How the fuck are we meant to herd four of these big bastards up the road to the frat house?”
Bradley gave me a quizzical look. “Justin, I know we’re friends now, and I enjoy that. But, if you think that I had anything to do with pigs when I was growing up, other than in sausage, chop, or roast form, you are sadly mistaken.”
We bickered and bandied ideas about for a while, and we mightn’t have got any further if it wasn’t for the fortuitous arrival of Janet and Cecilia.
“Here comes trouble,” I said as I saw the two young women walking down the path toward us. They were looking as beautiful as ever, and I felt Bradley stand up a little straighter at my side.
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black if ever I heard it,” Cecilia said. “How are you, darling?” She slinked up to me, as if we were at a ball and not meeting next to a pig pen, and planted a kiss on my cheek.
“Never better,” I said. “Especially after that sort of greeting.”
“Ugh, you’re such an awful flirt,” Janet said with a mocking grimace. She got onto her tiptoes and gave me a kiss on the other cheek.
“What in all the worlds are you two reprobates doing here?” Cecilia asked, casting a piercing eye in Bradley’s direction.
“Bradley and I,” I said, “are trying to figure out the best way to get four of these fat porkers up the road to the frat house belonging to our good friend, Arun Lightson.”
“He’s holding a bit of a revelry there tonight, I hear,” Janet said.
“That’s the word on the grapevine,” Bradley said.
“And suddenly, the fact that you want to herd four pigs to his residence makes total sense,” Cecilia said.
I grinned. “You might think you have an idea of what we’re planning, but I guarantee you are wro
ng.”
“Is that so? Well, I’m eager to find out.” Cecilia gave the pigs an appraising look. “I don’t suppose either of you have any sort of spell in your arsenal that might allow you to stun these fine creatures?”
Paralyzing Zap, I thought, mentally kicking myself.
“As a matter of fact...” I said. I walked forward and leaned over the railing. Immediately, a few of the friendly porkers stumped over and started snuffling at my outstretched hand. I drew mana into myself and smiled at the pigs. “I know you might not think it just now, but you’ll thank me for this later, girls.”
And I let loose with four of my crispest, quickest Paralyzing Zaps from my staff, which had magically appeared in my hands as the vector tended to do.
“Now,” I said, surveying the four stunned and unconscious pigs while their fellows eyed me confusedly, “how in the world do we get these fat fuckers up to the frat house? They must weigh about one-hundred and fifty kilos each.” I figured Bradley and I could transform into our more powerful forms, but carrying a pair of pigs each would probably extend beyond even our capabilities.
“Darling, darling, darling,” Cecilia said, sighing and fluttering her eyelashes with a poise that only an elf could manage, “what would you do without me? As one of the ghastly, entitled members of the nobility, I have a Horseless that you can borrow. Give me 15 minutes to skip gaily home, and I shall bring one back for you. Between you and Flamewalker you should be able to muscle the things into the back of the Horseless without so much as breaking a sweat. ”
“I’d owe you one, Cecilia,” I said.
Cecilia ran her eyes over me. “I rather think you would, yes.”
I snorted.
“Oh, and one more thing, Justin,” she continued, “you two are damned well going to clean the Horseless once you’ve done whatever it is you’re planning on doing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a bow.
“You planning on telling me what this is all about?” Janet asked me.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” I said.
Cecilia, the beautiful, dangerous elf woman, was as good as her word. She was back within half an hour, riding in one of her Horseless carriages. Night had fallen by this point, and we quickly loaded the slumbering pigs into the back of the Horseless.
“Right, take me to the party, driver,” I said as I gave Cecilia a pinch on the butt.
She slapped my hand away and gave a mock gasp. “You’re an incorrigible boy,” she said.
After some persistent and relentless wrangling from the women, I explained our plan and how we had come to have four succulent swine traveling with us in the Horseless. Cecilia was lost for words while Janet grinned like a ridiculously gorgeous version of the Cheshire Cat.
I smiled at the pair. “So, as you can see, our friends at Frat Douche—as it is colloquially named—are in for one porker of a night.”
When we arrived at Frat Douche, I hopped down from the Horseless and made my way through the short hedge mage to the front door. I greeted the pair of griffins with another hearty ‘fuck you’ and waited while they hopefully summoned Arun or one of his loveable flunkies.
When the door opened, it was, to my delight, none other than King Ringpiece himself, Arun Lightson. He was joined a moment later by the three amigos, Dohr, Ike, and Qildro. All four of them had the sloppy, relaxed expressions of those who were well on their way to some world-class hangovers.
“What,” Qildro said, his words tripping over themselves as they tried to get past his snake tongue, “the fucking hell are you dungpile rats doing here?”
“Look, I know that we dropped that keg off for you, boys, but that was just a ceasefire present. What I have out the front is the gift that—well, it’s just going to keep on giving and giving.”
Arun tried to raise a supercilious eyebrow, but he was too hammered and ended up by just looking mildly surprised. “A gift?” he slurred
“A fucking gem of a gift,” I said solemnly.
“C’mon, Arun,” Dhor said, spraying spit over his frat leader’s back, “let’s just go and see what these fools have and then hurry them along.”
Arun looked at me. I could practically hear his drunken brain grinding as it sought to figure out whether I was bullshitting him or not. I wasn’t, of course. I was being totally honest—I did have a gift that would keep on giving. It was just going to keep on giving to us.
“Right,” Arun said, taking a swig from the horn cup in his hand and belching extravagantly, “lead the way, then, and we shall see what you have.”
When we stepped out of the hedge maze that fronted the frat mansion, the four enemy fraternity brothers caught sight of the Horseless and its porcine cargo—flanked by the two beautiful women, Janet and Cecilia.
“What—what is this?” Arun said as he and the three others came to a halt and stood swaying, taking in the bizarre and unexpected spectacle.
“You’re going to love it,” I said. “Just wait and see.”
I could tell that Arun and the boys were on the point of wavering and potentially throwing down with myself, Bradley, and the two girls. However, at just the moment that I could see the words, ‘Get those bastards’ forming on the Holy Mage’s lips, Cecilia stepped forward and addressed the foursome.
“You gentlemen may want to listen to what Mr. Mauler has to say,” she said. “To you, they might just look like pigs, but in reality… Well, I’ll let him tell you.”
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned they say, but peace is no quicker affected than through the mouth of a beautiful woman, in my opinion. In an instant, Arun, Ike, Qildro, and Dohr mellowed out and looked attentively at me.
Without squandering a second of Cecilia’s placating—and arguably non-magical—spell, I turned to Qildro. “Applesauce is the fairest of them all,” I said as I gestured to the pig nearest him. Qildro’s eyes glazed over, and he wore a goofy smile as he started toward his beastly soul mate.
Taking my lead, Bradley grabbed Dohr by the elbow and turned him to face the next pig.
“Pork Belly is the fairest of them all,” he said, and the dwarf’s scowl turned into a smitten smile.
Next up, I pulled Arun forward and shoved him toward the fattest pig. “Kevin Bacon is the fairest of them all.”
Arun’s eyes glazed over as, behind him, Bradley steered Ike toward the final pig and cast the spell on him too.
“Justin,” Arun said, looking fixedly at me with eyes that were slightly cross-eyed with magic and drink. “I thought you were some imbecile Earthling, but I cannot believe how wrong I was. You might not be so bad, after all.”
“Uh,” I said.
I’d been distracted by the way that Qildro and Ike had simply slapped their groggy pigs awake and were leading them back into the shadowy depths of the hedge maze.
“Yeah, man,” said Dohr the dwarf. His face was lit with this dazed grin, his aquiline features twisted into an expression of besotted love as he gazed down at the pig at his feet. “You’re a great guy, man. I had my reservations, you know, due to you picking up with that outcast Flamewalker and the rest of those fucking losers—not to mention these harlots.” He gestured at Cecilia and Janet. “But, you know, man, you’re actually okay.”
Before I could say a word, he had disappeared toward the frat mansion with his pig.
Arun was the last to leave, but only because his enormous sow was struggling to get to her feet. She was struggling, I figured, because Arun was already dry-humping one of her hams.
“You’re bloody well all right, Mauler,” he slurred, over the grunts of the pig—who didn’t seem that keen on the sleeping arrangements if you asked me. “I’ll remember this.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I said, struggling to keep my face straight as Arun prodded and jabbed his pig into the maze.
From out of the darkness, I heard some rather panicked piggy squealing, and the crash and rustle of heavy bodies moving in the bushes.
A crunch of gravel behind me
alerted me to the fact that other students had started showing up for the frat party.
“Hey guys,” one pixy-featured young woman asked me, “which way to the kegger?”
I pointed into the darkness of the hedge maze, from which the squeals were getting louder. “It’s going to be a night you never forget,” I said.
The pixy-faced girl winked at me. “I hope so.”
I dusted off my hands and beamed around at Cecilia, Bradley, and Janet.
“I’d say that’s a job well done,” I said. “Why don’t we head back to our frat house? I want to make sure the other guys haven’t masturbated themselves to death or fucked their way through the entire house.”
The other three, chuckling and grinning like a pack of hyenas, agreed and piled back into Cecilia’s Horseless.
Chapter Sixteen
“Physical Fitness Training.” I read the words in my spellbook with blurry eyes the next morning as I scanned my self-refreshing timetable and grinned sleepily to myself.
Physical Fitness… I wonder how much of a workout Arun and the boys had themselves last night?
My first lesson would most assuredly not involve listening to someone droning on, or scribbling notes. It’d require some sort of physical exertion that occupied the body as well as the mind. Just what I needed after a night on the grog. That thought was one that got me out of bed in double-time.
I checked the bed for any unexpected female company, but found it empty on this occasion. Then I got up, took a shower, and got dressed into a fresh white shirt, jacket, and comfortable pants, which I tucked into my boots. I swung my arms around my head and did a couple of lunges. I wanted to be totally unencumbered for whatever this Physical Fitness Training was going to involve. Happy with my choice of outfit, I grabbed my black crystal staff and headed downstairs.
“Injured in the line of duty!” I said, when I met Damien on the landing.
The Fire Mage was crabbing down the hallway, slightly bowed and wincing with almost every step.
“Shut...shut your fuckin’ mouth, man,” Damien replied, his voice tight with discomfort.