Part One Hundred One
Will They Win?

"Squeak squeaky squeak," said the Ratman, revealing the location of the Cyclops to everyone who spoke Ratman.

"I'm out. I need to sleep on that nice bed over there," finished Harry. "Rocko, you want to cuddle? Oops, it has to be uninterrupted sleep."

"Homosaywhat?" coughed Rocko.

"What?" admitted Harry. "Oh wait, I'm not The Elf."

"And our Gay Singer's not around," noticed Rocko.

Turf, exasperated with Magick and needing to finally prove himself to everyone, swung his mighty Big Sword in a mighty big arc at the Ratman! It sliced him across the chest and his Ratman entrails began to spill on the floor.

"Chitter?" deathbedded the Ratman. "Cough? Sputter?" The Ratman fell down dead.

"Yay!" believed Corky.

"Our young Hero once again proves to be our young hero," infallibly logicked Harry.

"Finally Turf," moaned Rocko as Turf put his foot on the dead Ratman and flexed.

"Yeah, I thought you were afraid to get your sword dirty," said Dade with his clean dagger in his hand.

"Hey, can I heal myself?" asked Rocko self-lovingly.

"Everyone get a shot of that!" pointed Turf at Rocko healing himself. He changed position and flexed again.

102. No One Finds the Magick Shield

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