Sticking with tradition, Fred went with option one and purchased the
magical sword and armor. “So, Gruber, is it?” he asked the shopkeeper,
handing over the coins. Gruber grunted, his attention focused
squarely on the money. Fred took this as a ‘yes.’ “Exactly what
enchanted powers are these items imbued with?”
“Well the sword there leaves a pretty little trail of sparkly thingies when you swing it,” Gruber explained as he pocketed the gold. “It’s a real neat effect. And the chainmail contains the soul of a diabetic, racist redneck from Corbin, Kentucky on Dimension 319.”Fred was dumbfounded. Not because the ‘magic’ advertized for these items was absolutely useless, but because of the brain trauma he had subjected himself to when fighting ‘Evil Fred’.
“Fred, you’re drooling,” Astra whispered to him. “Are you alright?”“I like blue,” came his reply.
“Oh,” the princess sighed. “That’s nice. Well, let’s be moving on then. No time to waste.”Fred straightened up and seemed to awaken from some day dream. “Perhaps we should be moving on,” he said. “We can’t afford to waste any time.”
Astra rolled her eyes. “That’s what I just said.”“None o’ ya’ll’s goin’ anywhere!” a voice from behind them thundered. Fred and Astra turned to see two hatchet wielding clowns in black and white face paint not more then a few yards away.
“It’s those dastardly deranged degenerate Detroit drop-outs, ICP!” the shopkeeper screamed with dread and disdain laced in his words. “They haven’t put out a decent album since the Great Milenko! Plug your ears! Lock your medicine cabinets! Hide your daughters! Oh, we’re doomed!”“More clowns,” Fred snarled angrily, gripping his sword. Astra quickly suited up in the chainmail and readied her sword as well.
The fat clown set aside his hatchet for a moment, producing a bottle of cough syrup from one of the tattered pockets in his vest. He downed this in one gulp, then reached into the magical bag of tricks he always kept handy, producing another bottle - a 2 liter of Faygo soda. He shook it up, then heaved it at Fred and Astra. “Die, bitches!” he cried.The bottle hit the ground near Fred’s feet and exploded, sending the the sticky liquid everywhere. Just as this was happening both clowns charged.
7/12/2004 2:11:33 PM
The Never Ending Quest Home
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