Lola began to write down everybody's name on the
Cyclops contract when a frantic young boy covered in mud and poo ran
"So, Corky, you been laid yet?" Rocko
unappropriately came on to him. Except he's a Holy Man, so it was
probably pretty appropriate.
"I lay down every night, sir," explained
Dade and Turf stepped away from the poo-covered boy
as Buster walked up to him and asked, "Why are you so
"Hey Turf! Your boyfriend's here!" cracked
"I live on a farm and rats are killing all of
our Cabbages!" plotted the poo boy.
"Hey Hero! We should go kill some rats and
write a song about it!" cowardlied Buster who was afraid of
real life experiences like being killed by a Cyclops.
"Hmm," thought The Hero. Or just muttered
it pretending to be thinking. Which was more likely.
"Um, no! You can't!" shouted Lola shaking
the contract at the Fantasyers. "You already signed up for this
"Is it on the way to the Cyclops?"
"Rats and Kobolds have a cabbage thing,"
"I'm sure it isn't," nodded Lola sagely.
"Listen to The Hero. He's logickal," said
Buster, obviously paying no attention.
"What Cyclops?" asked the boy covered in
poo and rat bites.
"The one that is going to kill those two,"
explained Dade not really explaining anything at all to the boy.
"The one with one eye," reasoned Turf
having found out that the Cyclops had only one eye from Buster's
"My farm is just outside the city walls,"
argued the poo boy. "By a cave."
"I say screw the rules and let's kill
rats," blasphemed Rocko. Maybe.
"Come on, The Hero! Let's go! Oh! The Kobolds
are in a cave," obviously stated Buster. "I bet we can get
"Buster's had too much mead," noticed
Rocko although he could have said that any time anywhere and he
probably would have been correct. It's called probability!
"Come on, Hero. You can't not fight the Cyclops
now. Or the Kobolds. Would you rather fight the Kobolds?"
begged Lola who seemed to really want to get The Hero into a cave.
"We can do the boy's job for free as we take
the scenic route to the Cyclops," decided Turf leaderly.
"I can downgrade your mission if you want to
fight the Kobolds," pleaded Lola.
"I am speaking but no one listens,"
explained Dade to nobody. He must not have noticed how nobody was
actually listening to anybody and they were all just talking to hear
themselves speak and laugh at their own jokes about how gay the
other ones were.
"Yeah, Turf, would you rather fight the
Kobolds?" wimped out Rocko too.
"If I can chronicle it in a song, deal!"
"MY FARM!" complained the poo boy.
"I like the Kobold/Rat job," fourth timed
Dade. Or fifth timed, even.
"Duh," duhhed Rocko who showed that he
actually had been listening to Dade seeing as how he noticed Dade
kept saying that.
"My dad might be dying!" debated poo boy
hotly (not sexily but passionately. Not sexy passionately but hotly
"Your dad's an ass, kid," observed Rocko
who must have known him from semenary school.
"Sob!" sobbed the poo boy.
"Let's kill the friggin' anything at this
point," hack and slashed Rocko impatiently.
"Hero, we should go with delaying. After all,
it is just a bunch of rats," said Buster in a way that was
supposed to explain or argue for some point or another.
"Let's help the boy," finally decided Turf
decisively. For the moment.
"We should help this boy's dad's
cabbages!" agreed Corky after hearing what The Hero decided.
"I will help you, boy," claimed Buster
although nobody was really sure what kind of help that was going to
"If by help you mean pillage his farm,
deal!" underhanded Rocko in a Bad God sort of way.
"Chin up Charlie. I'm on the job," claimed
Turf as he put his hands on his hips. Dade sighed. Repeatedly.
XIV 1/2. Who the Hell
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