Editing GroupStorySeven
I was just looking through my stuff, and I found this story. I thought it looked to be the kind of thing easties would write, and I have no idea where it's going, so I thought I'd post it as a GroupStory to see what happens. It's already well on its way to becoming a monstrosity of oncrackness. Do not find its current length intimidating! I have spoken, and I say <BALEETED>!!! Here is the plot as outlined, which you should immediately mangle to turn it towards your own nefarious purposes: ''Characters:'' * zombie badger, "Gragh" ** v. big; eats villages ** No wireless ** Impersonates people * chaos mage, Zortiq Archfnord the Third ** hobby: hacking zombie animals ** hobby: turning people who annoy him into things * official town minion, Dennis Riley ** sanest person in story ** terrified of Zortiq ** used to have a horse; now has a watermelon, rather smashed '''Summary:''' When a zombie badger attacks a nearby village, the nearest mage in the area is called in to help. Unfortunately, that mage is Zortiq Archfnord the Third, infamous destroyer of small children's minds, and he is more inclined to add the zombie badger to his army of unholy minions (after installing a pirated copy of Windows 2000 on it) than to vanquish it. However, since he is rather broke at the moment, he agrees to drive the badger away. The problem: He's very good at ''encouraging'' rampaging animals, but absolutely no good at ''stopping'' them. Add to the beginning, middle, or end of the story, but do not add the end of the story to the beginning of the story, or THERE WILL BE TROUBLE! ---- It was a dark and stormy night. But then, every night was dark and stormy for Zortiq; butterflies in china followed him, always staying exactly on the opposite side of the globe, flapping their wings frantically. It hadn't hailed cats in a few weeks, which was downright disappointing, really. But the big three-legged frogs hadn't been bad. Zortiq Archfnord the Third raised his arms above his head and stretched. A handful of rocks around him sprouted legs and skittered away frantically. He ignored them, lost in the sudden realization that he had a pounding headache. It pounded in 3/4, practically waltzing across his temples. Then he realized it didn't hurt. This was probably because it wasn't actually a headache; something was actually making a pounding sound. It was a nice change, but a bit odd. A blaze of green lightning illuminated the desert landscape, and an image flashed across his eyeballs: a distant figure, centaur-like, hovering in midair. As thunder rolled across the sky, rather like Zortiq's stomach rumbling, he realized there was a man on a horse running towards him. He could see the rider now in the dim moonlight that filtered through the thick pink clouds, not a centaur at all, but a quite mundane horse with a most likely mundane man sitting on it. "Ahoy there," he shouted in a friendly fashion. "Shiver me timbers, ye buffoon, come out and fight like a man!" The horse galloped closer. Every step was a soaring leap that took it miles towards Zortiq. Zortiq sneezed. The horse turned into a watermelon in midstep, rolling forward with a full horse worth of momentum. It splattered against the rocks. The man landed on top of it and fell over, looking stunned. Zortiq stepped forward to stand over him. Despite the lack of light, he cast a shadow, sharp and black. "What is your name, little man?" The man just lay there. Then he talked, sputtering as though the information were being dragged out of him by a trawler net. "D... Dennis. Dennis Riley. I was sent by-" "I don’t care who sent you," thundered Zortiq. "Dennis Riley, bring me some pie, right now!" "Y-yes, l... lord... lord mage!" The little man began crabwalking backwards along the rocks. "Wait." The man froze, one leg in the air. "You called me lord. You're not one of my minions, are you? I'd think I'd recognize them. I believe I know them all." "N... no sir, lord mage, I'm not one of your minions, I was sent-" He stopped. "Yes?" I was sent by the town elders," the man said slowly, pushing the information out of his mouth with an effort. "They have a zombie problem. A zombie badger, to be specific. And it doesn't have a wireless card. We can't stop it!" His voice became more rapid. "There's nothing we can do, lord mage, the town is being destroyed!" "Good." "I'm… I'm sent to offer you a reward." "I don't desire a reward. I desire pie." "I'm afraid there's no pie, sir, lord mage, because the badger ate it all already!" "Then go make me some." "Also, I am authorized to offer you any amount of money up to twenty thousand herpes, which is all the gold in our treasury." "Ahhhhhhh." Zortiq's face lightened. He knew about gold. You could use gold to fill teeth. "Twenty thousand herpes will be just right, I think." He was also quite broke. You couldn't fill teeth if you were broke. "And some money." "Twenty thousand is all we have, sir, lord mage! That’s all our money! If that's not enough then I can only beg you to do this out of kindness!" Zortiq looked a bit befuddled. He rolled his crystal ball around idly, a sure sign that he was thinking too hard, especially since his crystal bal was still packed away in his saddlebag. "Herpes is money?" "yes, sir, it's our local currency. Drells are the little ones, then tengus, blacksmiths, and herpes." "I see." He closed his eyes. "I will take your herpes, and your badger." "ThankyoulordmagepleaserightthiswayIwilltakeyoutothebadger!" "And the treasury. That first." "But sir, lord mage, the badger...!" "I need the treasury. To defeat the badger." Sweatdrop. "Yes... yessirlordmage." Zortiq started off across the desert. "Oh," he added belatedly, "and Dennis Riley?" "Yessirlordmage?" "If you can't find any pie, bring me a camel. That will have to do." ---- The town of Wasteling, Fornication was very hot. The weather was hot, the food was hot, even the camels were hot, in their own sort of way (that way being, of course, that they spit venom vile enough to make a man blind, or deaf, or dead). The only thing that wasn't hot was the women (I'd explain, but... oh, nevermind. You'll see soon enough). Zortiq had acquired a camel and was standing outside the treasury while the little man fumbled with the keys. "Give me those," he said impatiently, stepping forward. The little man pulled on the key, and the lock came off in his hand. The treasury door swung open. The little man was left standing outside staring dumbly at the lock in his hand as Zortiq entered the gloomy room. He'd just about figured out that the key had actually tumbled the lock successfully when Zortiq's face started hollering in his ear. "Where. Are. My. Gold. Herpes!" "Uhhh..." The man scratched his crotch and crossed his eyes. "Worthless." Zortiq transmuted the man into Ice Ice Baby, on repeat, and stalked off. He was going to either get gold, or pie, or someone was going to die. He was just about to the mayor's office to see the Deputy mayor, the mayor having died of a frontal lobotomy gone wrong when it was discovered the operating doctor was actually the zombie badger... in disguise! That badger was definitely a problem. In fact, last week he had impersonated a fireman so he could rescue Frisky, the cat, which resulted in the cat being mauled after it got, well, frisky. And then there was the incident with the mailman the day before. Lets just say that neither rain nor sleet nor snow nor hail might stop 'em, but a zombie badger worked just fine. The list of incidents involving that pesky zombie badger was so long that the sun had set by the time Zortiq was just about to the mayor's office. Suddenly a sultry voice called to him from the shadows. "Hey sailor." "I am not a sailor." "How about you and me spend some quality time." "There isn't water for 5 days in any direction. Where have you ever seen a sailor?" "It's just something they say." "No it's not. I talked to They recently." She batted her eyelashes. "Nothing like a cold girl on a warm night." She flashed her fangs. "You can have me all night." Zortiq thought a moment. He liked chilled pie. "Ok," he said, and suddenly she turned into a delicious chilled pumpkin pie. His fondest wish finally granted, he sat down to enjoy a cold pumpkin pie. He was going to enjoy <strike>having</strike> eating her all night. Until he realized he had no fork. ---- See Also: GroupStoryOne, GroupStoryTwo, GroupStoryThree, GroupStoryFour, GroupStoryFive, GroupStorySix ---- CategoryStory
Summary:
This change is a minor edit.
(Visit
Preferences
to set your user name.)