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
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
"Everyone get a shot of that!" pointed
Turf at Rocko healing himself. He changed position and flexed again.
102. No One Finds the Magick
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