Board Writing :: RoR: Idiotic Iteration :: Page 2
Darkness covered everything. Then, slowly but surely, eyes opened to the sight of a new world and adventure. Or rather, simply to the sky.
From out of a pile of rubble just outside the former entrance to the bar, a young man rose. A very young man, in fact, with black hair, brown eyes, a blue-and-white striped shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of sneakers. Although Hadoleo Syniarian was quite injured and bruised, he wouldn’t let that stop him.
“Good thing I kept these in here,” he muttered to himself, taking out a case from his left pocket, and opening it to take out a pair of glasses and put them on his face. It wasn’t like he truly needed them, though, since without them his vision was only slightly more blurred than normal. By mere coincidence had Hadoleo decided to put away his glasses due to discomfort before somebody decided to blow the bar. Also by mere coincidence had he been close to the entrance and therefore not taken a full blast.
While looking himself over and confirming that all his body parts were intact, Hadoleo suddenly realized that he was missing his most important possession. After looking around the outside of the ruined bar, evading flaming children, and not finding what he was after, he concluded that his only option was to investigate the bar itself. Of course, he failed to take in all his other countless options in his dire situation.
“Looking for something?” a random passerby asked.
“Yes. I’m looking for…this!” Hadoleo exclaimed upon retrieving his prized blue possession from underneath a ruined table. Gleefully, he slung it across his shoulders and looked himself over as best as he could with a lack of a mirror to see himself in his former glory.
“A…blue backpack?” the passerby questioned skeptically. “Why the heck would you bring a backpack to a place like this?!”
“Ummm…I’m a student. Er…was, kinda,” he replied. “I guess I just got into the habit and beat of the school schedule, so, yeah.”
“…Right. What are you doing, anyway?”
“I was…lured here by a bunch of liars promising a great educational field trip! They happened to leave out the part about a plan to blow the place up!” Hadoleo exclaimed. Then his memory recovered the vital information regarding the announcement of the new Rumbl-o-Rama and he quickly amended, “Uh, but now I apparently have an adventure.” He had heard and read about the first Rumbl-o-Rama and had since envied those lucky enough to embark upon such a quest and experience its experiences first-hand. Now, it was his chance to seize.
“You don’t look like someone up for an adventure,” the random passerby commented.
Just then, Hadoleo noticed the bodies of many others present during the announcement stir. Realizing that he did not want to be stuck with the mess of loser characters, he quickly replied with a true excuse, “Sorry, but I think I’m behind. I have to hurry and catch up.” He then ran in the direction of the Cotton Mountain.
“Hey! Weren’t you injured from the explosion?”
“OW!!!” the student exclaimed as he staggered from the pain that had just caught up to him from his bruised running legs. “Don’t mention that to me!”
“…Weirdo,” the passerby muttered before being mobbed by the children
Some lone pile of refuse stirred in the corner of the bar as a tall, slim man rose from the scraps. With spindled fingers, he dusted off his deep crimson colored coat.
"Gee, sir, are you okay?" stopped to question one of the innocent, flaming children, deeming the answer more important than her own extinguishment. "Were you in the explosion?"
"No, actually," confessed the stranger, adjusting his fingerless gloves. "This corner was unscathed by the blast. I was just... hanging out under there. That's were the cool people are." Two attractive woman peeped out from beneath the mess, martinis in hand, begging when the tall man would return. "In due time, ladies, in due time. I have a more important matter at hand," he proclaimed.
"Do you mean the Rumbl-o-Rama, mister?" enthusiastically queried the lass, now nearly a skeleton charred black. Chuckling, he patted her on the head, crumbling her to ash, but his beady eyes did not witness her ultimate destruction.
"Yes, wee one, it is the Rumblo I seek." His hairless brows slanted as he spoke with intensity in his voice. "Long have I lusted for the lactose of lore, and the moment is now here for me to seize it!"
And just who are you, brave traveller? questioned the signed master of ceremony. A gleam transversed the bald man's head as he rose his hand boldly into the air.
"I am Kno Wuhn," he declared before promptly disappearing from all time and space with a "pop" noise, never to be heard of again.
Huh. Oookay. Normal. But, our other adventurers are well off at their task. Bimblesnaff and Ranarum have already reached the base of the treacherous Cotton Mountains, and pursuers are close by.
"Who are you talking to?" questioned sickly man with long, black hair as he munched on his duck dinner.
Silence! I speak to all!
"Fear not, noble zombie," the hero in black proclaimed. "I, Gariland, shall save you from that horrible fiend." Lunging forward with his sword, he slipped upon his own feet and crashed to the ground as the number "174" popped up from his form before fading away as mysteriously as it came.
"Zombie? Foo'," Kodiro scolded, "I best learn you! Would a dead man dress this classy?" Before a response could be given, he pushed away a cadaver wearing a "Save the Whales" shirt, who commented that the situation was, in fact, "Not Groovy", but his rotted tongue prevented its understanding. Pulling back his tye-dye plaid coat and sticking out his leg, he showed off his classy rainbow striped pants and pink shirt, complete with tacky gold chain around the neck.
"Oh, my apologies," the heroic lad begged as he removed himself from the earth. "I thought you were a '60s zombie."
"You question the great Fashion Mage?" Angily throwing out an arm, a wand studded in rhinestones and tassels popped out of his sleeve. "Take this, you style-challenged boy! I'm gonna give you five more degrees of gay dress sense!" Before he could activate his magic stick, the cackling lunatic leapt onto his back, forcing him to the ground.
"Ya must be the fool, laddy," Bogg snarled, "as this one was only to help ya from me. Now, as I was sayin' before ya interrupted me: Yer hair sucks! I mean, what is it? 'Tisn't hippy, 'tisn't emo, and I hate both of those to start with!" Pulling off a scarf and wadding it up, he threw it, without much affect, down at the flattened wizard. "And that is what ya get for tellin' me to accessorize!"
"But it brings out your eyes!" Kodiro croaked as the freak bound off from his back. Gariland tried to catch the maniac before he fled but managed to trip over the sorcerer of style.
"177," the young man moaned.
"177? What happened to 175?" the multicolored magician questioned as he got himself up. "And 176?"
"... I fell twice when no one was paying attention to me," whimpered the valiant youth.
"Oh... well, I know what will cheer you up," proclaimed Kodiro, "a fabulous makeover! I mean, all black? Really, what are you? A "the Goth"?" he actually stated, with the double articles. Aiming his wand of styling, it sparked and flickered when channeled into. "Uh-oh, I think it got damaged in that fall," he reasoned, "or the batteries are dying." Looking at his makeover victim, he jumped. "Yeeeeeh."
"What? What happened to me?" demanded Gariland.
"Nothing, nothing," answer the wizard, pulling his head from a increasingly smelling bucket that seemed to come from no where. "Just avoid mirrors and people for a while, that's all." As he turned to bolt away, a perfect looking glass tumbled from his vestment. "Keep it," he shouted as he was already almost out of view. "I have eight more." Trembling, the man looked down at his own reflection.
That is not important, however. Well, it is, but it can be gotten back to. The King of the Frogs was currently in the lead, scaling the dangerous side of the Cotton Mountain, stopping periodically for drinks from his Manatee Can-a-teen despite it not yet being filled. The rough giant of the single initial had gotten lost in the Forest of Insignificance to Issues at Hand and decided a faster solution would be stealing matches from a local bear and burning down the entire woodlands. It was not until afterwards that he questioned the worthwhileness of his actions and quickly retreated back to (what was left of) the tavern to dodge the police. There, he encountered the injured young student, Hadoleo, where he mistook him for a puppy and decided to take it with him on his trek. Hadoleo, on the other hand, mistook the old knight for a bear with matches and pretended to be dead for a few hours before both were able to see the mistakes they made.
"Why are you telling me this?" Gariland questioned the Nary Wary Gary as he dashed by, temporarily distracted from the problem at hand.
Because I can!
"So, are you sure this is how I get to the Terrific Taco of Truth to restore my dead wife?" D jumbled facts to his new found ally set atop his broad shoulders.
"Er, sure, why not," the youth agreed just for the sake of ease. "You were married?"
"No," the gruff individual corrected. "It was more of a dog than a wife," he expounded, "and it was actually my lost childhood."
"So, the dog," Syniarian tried to comprehend the mess as he consulted a psychology book from his trusty backpack, "it is a representation of your lost youth being a treasured memory?"
"What on Ems' Ref are you talking about?" Vin pondered. "I never had a dog."
"Riiight," reluctantly agreed the student. "Just keep going straight." The peaks of the Cotton Mountains had come into view some time ago, and they were already advancing up the wide spread sloping base. It would not be long before they were at the steepening face. "Do you hear... rambling?"
"All shall suffer once I get m' hands on that Lengendairy!" As they drew nearer, the spotted a gaunt frame hanging from the side of the mountain, clinging to the pillowy crags on sharp claws. "No one can stop me! Not anyone or any two!" A #2 pencil fell from above, sticking square in Bimblesnaff's head. "Ha! See? I purple wrapper shine!" Pulling the object out, he repeated, "I win again!"
"This is the place, giant oaf," commanded Hadoleo from D's shoulders. "Now scale that fluffy peak!"
"This mountain isn't the boss of me," grunted Vin as he showed no signs of slowing down as he approached the face. Breaking the surface, with a mighty blow, he tunneled through the solid foundation of cotton, fading into the darkness with only his majestic cape dimming into the shadows. 'Leo, of course, was knocked flat on his ass outside of the burrowed hole.
"Why am I always hurt?" he weeped as an amphibious familiarity had its fall broken by him.
"It's terrible, man, you don't want to go up there," the blue clad vagrant warned. "It's mayhem, it's nauseating, it's China Town!"
"Really?" gleefully spoke Bogg, licking his lips lustfully.
"Metaphorically," added the frog man.
"Damn, and I really wanted some hot Asian," moped the fiend, "chicken. Gee, that pause sure seemed awkward."
"Whoa whoa whoa WHOA," spoke up the student, removing himself from the indention in the earth made in his image. "Why can't we go up there?"
"Because it's there, man," he frantically screamed. "The legends are true."
"Legends, ey?" Digging into his faithful backpack, Hadoleo removed a book titled, Legends, Mythos, and Facts Pertaining to The Course of the Second Rumbl-o-Rama by N.W. Gary. "And they mocked me for purchasing the nonrequired books for my classes. Well, who's laughing now?"
Meanwhile, at a college book store, the employees laughed haughtily as they sipped the fanciest of wine and dined on caviar, which they did not even like the taste of.
"Always a pleasure, Gary, really," sarcastically put 'Leo as he thumbed through his book.
"It was there, I tell, and it was hideous," the vagrant continued to rant on as roars could be heard descending the mountain. "It was the most aweful thing of all time." The student hastily worked to find where the Cotton Mountains were in the book, but it was not written in alphebetical or chronological order. It was actually paged by "which tasted better", a horrible system by anyones standards, except for maybe...
"Wha ah dose rars?" came the muffled question from Bimblesnaff's cotton filled mouth. Finding the entry, Hadoleo read about how a terrible beast lived near the top of the Cotton Mountains. It was believed to be a dinosaur that survived the Ice Age, one that no fossils have record of. It was the greatest of all dinosaurs. As tremors of its approach drew nearer, the scholar looked up with the blood drained from his face.
"Guys, this is no ordinary dinosaur," he squeaked. "It's no Albertasaurus or Stegosaurus... It is Thesaurus!"
"Wait," commented Bogg, "you mean like the boo-"
"Tome!" boomed a giant sized, bound set of pages, replacing his word with a similar one.
"... Actually, guys, I didn't see that before," the Ranarum admitted. "I was horrified by the bill board I saw saying Pepsi One was coming back.
As I go to get my hourly refill of my attention deficit medication, we return to the The Tavern, the most inhabited city in all of Ref and the only city that is a tavern. The post-explosion pub's patrons shuffled about the rubble, rebuilding the only place they called home, or rather the only place they were allowed to use the bathroom. They would either drink or work to get the bar back to drinking condition after one of the many mishaps it seemed to be prone to.
There was still much work to be done, much debris to be removed, and much maddened, cannibalistic children to be cleared out, but new-comers and never-leavers alike bore the bits and bites all the same. Few chairs now populated the bar, and in one stool sat the rarest of sites in Refdom -- a woman!
Hey! These aren't my meds! ... Heyyy, these aren't my meds. Gotta go! At that, the Nary Wary Gary zipped into the distance with a repeating Whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop as he went.
"Strange little man," the lone woman buttered, which is sort of like muttering, but creamier, more fattening, and a typo. "It's time to show these guys how to rumble... o.... rama." Her eyes darted about shiftily as she took a nonchalant sip from a mug she only thought she had. "Mmmm, non-existent."
"How can you drink from a mug that doesn't exist?" questioned a nearby youth, holding a charred but apparently delicious leg.
"Because neither do I!" Again, an imaginary figure vanished into nothingness.
"Awww," moaned a pathetic bar fly, "that was cruel. I thought I finally had a date for the prom," he sniffed. Luckily, it didn't matter as he didn't exist, either.
"What's going on here?" generally posed the child with a mouth full of, well, child. The lighting dimmed, save for a far end of the bar's stretch. All attentions were drawn to a hunch over figure, tending a never ending drinking vessel. As the faintest glimmer caught his raising eyes, he was immediately recognized.
A hush swept over the whole city. Seats and drinks were abandoned as a cautious crowd developed around him. Hands were wrung. Women swooned. Children were still eating remains of fallen friends, but that was not due to this return of a veteran. It was impossible to mistake that stature, that hat. One of the original Rumblers graced the bar with his appearance for another round of the Rama.
"Wait," interrupted the ghost of one of the massacred kids, "didn't you already leave?" To this, the vagrant raised a webbed finger and turned to reply.
"..." unsaid the king of the frogs with his wide mouth wide open. A simultaneous groan of discontent was let out as the gathered masses dissipated. "Hey, how'd I get back here?" He looked down to sixteen fluid ounces of explanation. "Oh yeah."
"This don't make a lick of sense!" added the ghost, who was promptly cannibalized by another ghost.
"Say, mister," the second ghost addressed, "weren't you in the lead until you magically came back here."
"Well, I was just ahea-" began the frog. "I mean, everyone else was behin-" he tried to continue. "... aw, sh-"
"Poopy!" the enormous Thesaurus boomed.
"Don't worry, guys," assured 'Leo, who stepped forward to oppose the beast. "I've got a whole lot of books here, and knowledge is power."
"Yay!" cheered 'Snaff. "Go, nerd, go!" His joy was lessened when the student simply began waling on it with his heavy book bag using all of his strength which, mind you, wasn't much. At a distance, the group was being observed by the loathsome fashion mage, who now mysteriously wore a chinchilla fur coat under his tyedye flannel.
"Sweet-digs," he rambled, peering safely from behind a snow bush. "With those cats distracted, there will be no one to rain on my parade."
"Yeah, and we all know how much your kind loves parades," heckled his egg friend from deep within his garb.
"Quiet, you," snapped Kodiro. "You only talk in my mind. And if I wasn't wearin' my Pants of Many Pockets and Extra Dimensions, I'd find you, cook you, and then not eat you just to show ya who's the guy cooking his li'l egg friend and not eating him."
Back on the ground, the vagrant bounced along the horizon to reclaim his lead. One especially squishy portion of ground turned out to be Gariland.
"Sorry, bloke. I didn't see you there," apologized the blue one, never breaking pace, "and didn't care."
"That's okay," dully stated the squashed one, who still laid fallen on the ground. "Life is pain."
"Gee, what the Hel is wrong with you?" screamed back the frog, carrying on the conversation from a growing distance.
"Aw, nothing... except everything!" contradicted Gariland. "I'm just filling in the brooding time required by any character dressed in black. I hate puppies!"
"Strange for a guy who periodically falls for no reason," erupted the vagrant in a loud voice from the base of the Cotton Mountain where now Gariland sat. "Ah!" yelped the frog. "How did you get here?"
"I dunno," shrugged off the dark one, fixing a stare at no point in particular on the ground. "Maybe I teleported. Compensate this, Heisenberg!" Before bounding up the plush mountainside, the Rex dead-set a harsh look onto Gariland until he inexplicably fell into the ground.
"Glad to see you're back to being, well, not what you just were," spoke the vagrant, crouching down for a high jump.
"Yeah, well, not everything is the same!" declared Gariland. "I'm going with a new shtick. From now on, I'm going to spontaneously catch fire, and then extinguish by wetting myself!"
"Have luck with that," faded away the frog as he disappeared into the softly lofty heights.
"I will," the one in black said to the no one remaining with him. "Yeah, I'm awesome."
"What happened to my fab-tastic make-over?" Kodiro said only to himself. "Lousy Goths! Don't they know fashion when they see it?" he stated while adjusting his rattlesnake belt... living rattlesnake belt. "Oh yeah! Lapses in consciousness mean you're cool!" At this, the guady wizard stumbled his way past the others and the Thesaurus.
The Rex Ranarum came crashing down from above into a land that could be nothing if not soft.
"Have you seen Gariland?" quickly asked the lunatic. "He has twenty bucks that he owes me... that I have to steal."
Before the frog could respond, "Ouch! It burns!" was heard in the background.
"Never mind that," he said, suddenly trying to take a lead again. "We're goin' for the long haul against this thing. The Thesaurus isn't going to be one of those enemies that can be defeated with a slight gust." Just then, a slight gust -- unusual for their high altitudes -- breezed by the mountain. "See? That didn't defeat it," he pointed out as the Pepsi One billboard, riding the weak winds, plummeted down, crushing the horrible monster.
"Yay!" cheered Syniarian. "Bimblesnaff is dead!"
"Hey," whined the goblin, peering from beneath the demolished sign. His beady eyes widened suddenly to something behind the others. "Watch out! It's a cavema-"
"Troglodyte!" wailed the dinosaur. A short, bald but otherwise hairy man with a tiny mustache wearing cotton boxers and t-shirt lept up behind the group, grasping a spear with a shaft made of cotton and a point -- made of cotton!
"Me Roget," he grunted, thudding his chest. "Me not caveman. Me unemployed and stupi-"
"Incompenent!" his pet finished.
"Oh, I get it," Hadoleo enlightened, adjusting his glasses. "You weren't going to hurt us at all."
"No, me am," Roget corrected. "'Cause me stupid."
"Hey," noticed the blue clad vagrant. "Isn't that the loser Kodir-"
"Closet-case!" roared Roget's pet.
"Say what?" unsmoothly retorted the fashionable whiz, who was poorly hiding himself behind his own outstretched coat. "Ooo, you just jealous of my fly, new, technicolor coat. No mo' pink shirt for me! That thing was so five minutes ago that it was two minutes ago! Can't do nuthin' 'bout it when I look this good!" Bimblesnaff suddenly appeared before the mage to smear his garment with goat's blood. "Aw sig-snap!"
"Where did you get a goat from?"
"Backpack," Bimblesnaff answered, gesturing a thumb back to 'Leo.
"I was saving that for later!" complained the young one. "My cult leader is going to kill me," he huffed, "instead."
"Ah, shuddup, ya p-"
"Kitty." echoed the giant.
Hadoleo was shocked. "Rex Ra-"
"Virgin!" Everyone placed a raised brow on the blue clad vagrant.
"... what? I'm a frog. Frogs die after they mate."
"No they don't," even Bimblesnaff knew.
"Shhhhhhhhut up," he whispered behind a raised flipper.
"Keep your acts in line, guys," the student went on. "You don't want to blow our teenage rating."
Rating? We don't have a rating.
"We don't?" joyously responded the frog to the NWG's announcement. "Then let's break out the moderately-priced beer and cheap prostit-"
"Bimblesnaff!" A stare even more confused than before went onto the lunatic.
"Well, obviously he's lying."
Amid all the distraction and inaction, Kodiro had powered his through many venomous bites and all the way up the jagged peak.
"Fools," he chuckled. "That bunch o' fools can't stop me now. I'm at the top! All the way!" He looked around the endless scape that surrounded him, filled with a sense of awe and why he even wanted to get to the top in the first place. "Wait, I wanted to go past the mountain, didn't I?
If you were a pigeon sitting at the other side of cotton mountain, you’d probably notice one of two things: well actually the very first thing you’d realize is that there are no pigeons in Ref. However, if nonexistence doesn’t bother you too greatly, you could either notice that the ninjas hiding in cotton boulders had indeed not paid their tab and there was a dull “thumping” noise coming from the innards of the mountain. The strange sound did not grow in volume, but ended rather abruptly with a resounding thud and a “Hey, there’s a really big boat in here!”
From atop the summit, the wizard of wear was concocting a giant parachute from the very essence of the mountain. With the wind blowing in his face, Kodiro took a step back and then took of in a series of step-ball-change leaps and careened into the open air! Of course the wind was blowing against him and he fell backwards with his parachute, which much resembled huge pair bikini briefs, opened fully carrying him in the direction he had climbed. Also, as everyone knows, cotton is very breathable. Thus, clasping futilely to his whitie tighties, he flew towards the earth like a man attempting to use his underwear as a flying mechanism.
With the trio surrounded and outnumbered three to two, there was little action to take. No one wanted a papercut from the ludicrously sized reference book and Roget smelled atrociously of sweat and obsession.
Then a cry echoed of the mountain: “WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE PUT OUT MY FIRE!!!” Everyone whirled around looking for Kodiro, but he had fallen into the hole the giant vessel had made.
THUD! “Hey, there’s a knight down here!”
Charging blindly, on fire with swords in the air, twas not the fashion mage, not a flaming child, but Gariland, combusting and surrounded in a cloud of sharp and not so sharp objects. “What is wrong with you people! I’m-
Hadoleo chirped in “I think, he means your atrociou-”
“-outfit.” The shadow goth looked down at his burning clothes and considered it a slight improvement, but no one really felt sorry for him, save Roget, who offered the shirt off his back, as well as his underwear, causing his pet to runaway.
“Saurus, bad!” Roget was hot in pursuit frolicking in the nude with his spear in hand as he disappeared into a cloud of cotton.
From out of the mountain emerged the post-Knight of Funk being pestered by the Magician of Materials. “I swear, at least let me do something about your eyebrows, they need to be plucked so badly, and your armor needs a shine! Don’t you want to look special when you reach the-”
Kodiro walked backwards into the torrents of caramel, which slowly sucked him away, but not before Vinny used him as a stepping stone to the other side of several streams.
“Not mountains, nor makeovers, malicious streams of sweet can stop me from claiming the Swedish Dog of Doom to rule over the kingdoms!”
Thus the knight continued his quest, as the fashion mage puts on his RacySpeedo to brave the currents. Meanwhile, the other adventurers are make their way around their mountain. Roget finally tracks his pet to the tavern where he frightens the-
“Prepubescent immolating homo-saipens!”
Yes. While Gariland wears your master’s clothes, since he…soiled his others...
“Roget shall quest new clothes!”
And thus Roget began his journey for new cloths, which no one at all cared for.
"Hey, wasn't there someone else?" questioned the frog man in blue as he bolted against the green freak in purple for the lead.
"Nope," disagreed Bimblesnaff over the painful screams of Gariland, who was not far behind, "I'm fairly certain it's just us two." It was long since forgotten, or gladly overlooked, that a youth had plummeted into the dark depths of the vile and fluffy mountain. It was the start of...
Hadoleo's Magical Adventure! Press start now.
"Wow, this boat seems pretty heavy," the student noted, analyzing the object in questioned. In a spontaneous burst of inquisitiveness and cowardice, he had slipped down the hole when things started to look dangerous. "How in the world did that Ranarum guy life it? It has to weigh a ton!"
"At least," croaked a voice from beneath the vessel.
"Holy sin!" chirped the lad. "Some is stuck under this monstrosity! Don't worry, I shall free you."
"No need, kind sir," the individual explained as the boat stirred and was lifted off by an unseen force.
"No one ever gives me any credit," the force mooped before leaving unthanked as per norm.
"Greetings, young, kind sir," the short and odd little person greeted while twirling his mustache. "I am called Bwittyl Wittot, the Ol' Gent of the these here Mounts, and I need your help."
"Wow, how did you lift that boat?" backtracked a still amazed 'Leo.
"Oh, I have unlimited powers, you see," the short geezer explained with a rub of its rotund belly.
"Wait, then why," asked the boy, "do you need some unexperienced, confused, and sure-shot failure kid to help you?"
"Uh," the odd person thought quickly, "I like to fail. Now then, my Cotton Kingdom of Nibijibi in under great peril. Everyone is being squashed by large boats from above, and they are helpless to free themselves."
"Wait, can't you life boats with your limitless power?"
"Yes, but I fail to see how it relates to this situation," stated Bwittyl. "Now then, for you to complete your quest, which you have no choice but to do for the fate of the world as you shall eventually find out, I shall give you this crappy weapon which couldn't cut warm butter." Handing over a stick, Hadoleo discovered it was a stick, plain and simple. "It's a stick," redundantly told the short fellow. "I happen to have this weapon of unbelievable power, but I don't really feel like handing it over to you yet."
"Um... thanks?" Further instructions were never received by the lad, sadly and gladly, as he was swiftly carried off on the big boot of D, who was charging through, like a used wad of gum.
"Hey, wait, come back here," Wittot demanded. "He is destined to save the world since he's the first young man I've seen ever since I decided it was in peril!" Vin never thought of turning around or even slow his pace, especially when Kodiro came after him with a pair of tweezers.
"I told you," shouted the mage of makeovers, "it isn't for your eyebrows!" The knight's pace only hastened.
"Ah, great, now what are we going to do?" whined the short man.
Luckily, all of his problems were about to go up in smoke. Unluckily, all of his world was, too. Gariland, by sheer accident, used his flaming body to eliminate the obstacle of the Cotton Mountain by sharing his flame with it. Noticing the new short cut, the Lunatic and King changed their paths, darting across the field of ash against one another. Rex was able to take the lead, however, as he was more properly hydrated with the Manatea in his manatee. Reaching the Caramel rapids First, he was the first to trip over the Knight's deposit: Hadoleo. The viscous nature of the location had pulled the young man off of the questionably young man's footwear. This set back allowed Bogg to get ahead of the amphibian, although he still did take a pause to kick the youth while down and on his way.
"So that's what happened," Bimblesnaff agree, "and that is something I would do." Swinging a claw hard in his step, he booted 'Leo across the face before continuing on with his trek. "So long, suckahs."
In his revelry and mocking, however, he could not see where he tread and tripped over another one of Vin's deposits.
"Aw, dude, seriously. Not right, man. It's just not right.
** There is still more to this story.
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