Basically, this is what happens when I stay up too damn late. (This is true, 4 years later)


Writer's NotesEdit

I am the Boredman of Boringham. I am burdened with glorious boredom! I come to this world to write a silly, joke-based story. Why? Because I can. It is not to be taken seriously.

I'd like to give credit to Bill, Par, and Walker for additional writing. Credit to the aforementioned sausages as well as Dent and Boog for loads of inspiration.

As inappropriate as this is, even without its vulgarity I believe it'd possess the same level of comedic value; it simply wouldn't depict the characteristics of the six of us so well (something that surprises me o.o).

This story includes a ton of references to existing material, and it includes parodies of various works.


"Those damn BEARS!"

Prologue Edit

Three young figures sat at a table in a large circular room, resembling a library, which was lit by dim yellow lanterns hanging from the tall ceiling. A large portrait of an unusual-looking cow hung on the wall - its body was gold and its spots silver, and its background, an array of vibrant colors and obscure designs, was an intricate piece of art itself. Only tables, benches, and bookshelves filled the area, with several doorways leading off into other sections. All of the books were rugged, torn, and ancient-looking. Very few of them retained visible titles.

Carphia, a spry, younthful woman in her mid twenties, stared at the open pages of one of these books. She wore some simple dark brown robes and she had somewhat long black hair which wasn't particularly styled in any way.  The other two figures, one man and one woman, looked to be the same age, and they were both reading as well.  Birae, the largest one present, --taller and somewhat pudgy-- didn't seem particularly invested. She wore a fancy, olive green dress and her long brunette hair was woven into an elegant hairstyle. Joshua, abundantly "average" in appearance, wore an old-fashioned vest and sported short dark hair. He was paying more attention to his book than the others.

The three of them might have seemed completely normal, and, for the most part, they were... except for the fact that they were Cheesians. Their skin was partially made of cheese, somehow. 

Carphia, a Provolone, had very pale skin. Birae, an American, staunch yellow. Joshua, an Asiago, a slightly yellowish white. 

They were each reading The Chronicles of the Third Blue War (Volume II), although Birae seemed more focused on her own thoughts. "Have ye seen Shirley and Arnie?" Despite being an American Cheesian, she spoke in a slight English accent.

"No." Carphia replied in a static, monotone voice.

"Think they're... y'know?" The taller woman asked. This caught Joshua's attention.

"What... no." Joshua shook his head. He spoke in a slightly southern accent.  "Highly unlikely! I mean..."

"You've seen the way they look at each other." Birae remarked. "I'm just assuming the obvious..."

"The last two who tried it are still in the prison section." Carphia remarked. "I hope they're not that foolish."

"Unless they found somewhere without one of those." Joshua motioned to a camera in the corner of the ceiling. "Not worth it, though. The law's in place for a reason."

"It would be a bit hysterical, though. I can picture the headline now: Cheesia in ruins because ARNIE AND SHIRLEY FOOKED!" Birae brought herself to laughter. The other two shuddered.

"Keep your voice down." Carphia winced.

"I wouldn't joke about that." Joshua said. "Be respectful, come on. I mean, look at what we're reading."

Birae had to physically flip through to the first page to see what they were --or, in her case, weren't-- reading. There was silence. A moment later, Birae broke it again. "Well, it sure is nice having the two of you around. You've been been gone a lot too... where have you guys been? Are you fooking as well?"

Carphia gave her an angry glare. "I might 'fuck' you if you don't stop; technically, there's no rule against same-sex-"

"Okay!" Joshua interrupted. "That's enough. But, to answer your question, I've joined the Military. Going through training every day! It's exhausting, but very engaging. I could be like Captain Asiago one day... or the Cheese Colonel!"

"Or you could be stuck watching Gravy Bones all day." Carphia remarked.

"Swiss, I never considered that." Joshua's face crinkled up a bit as his eyes grew. "I just... I don't see how THAT was once a Cheesian."

"Well, he gave his answer. Your turn." Birae motioned to Carphia, who turned her eyes elsewhere. 

"Well, I've just been working on a new project." Carphia explained. "Nothing noteworthy." 

"Well, go on! What is it?" Birae asked.

"Nothing." Carphia replied.

"Bullswiss." Birae remarked.

Carphia sighed in frustration. "Look, it's a bit of a... secret." 

Birae grinned and Carphia could see that she had gotten the wrong idea. "Well, who is it then?" Her face lit up with excitement.

"No." Carphia glared. "It involves weapons. That's all I'll say."

"Well, that's impossible! Females aren't allowed in the military." Joshua stated.

"Just some personal training that I'm doing." Carphia explained.

"I think it's quite uncheesious that they don't let us do anything." Birae added. "The consumers have the right idea! Look at all they've done for women."

"Quite frankly, fuck those consumers." Carphia said. "Sure, women have been mistreated for years, but they're going about it in the wrong way. Making EVERYTHING about inequality just makes the populus numb to it. Besides, the only things they prevent us from doing are joining the military or holding a position on the Council. Most of what goes on in the Upper Sections is bullswiss anyways."

"How would you know?" Birae asked.

"It's obvious." Carphia replied. "We have it better than the men."

Joshua frowned. "Having the right to serve is very important to me, but I can't speak for the High Cheese Affairs."

"As a male, you're mostly likely working for a Lord or serving in battle. We aren't missing much." Carphia added.

"There's a reason that opposite genders are only allowed together in monitored areas." Joshua added. "It's for the best."

"Well, they could at least monitor the Upper Sections so we could go up there, then." Birae responded.

"The Lords don't want to be spied on." Carphia explained. "Besides, what could you possibly want up there?"

"Well, I've seen Lord Feta looking at me..." Birae grinned.

"The old wrinkly one?" Carphia squinted.

"Lord Feta died a week ago." Joshua explained. "His son has taken his place; that's who she's talking about."

"Don't you keep up with the latest events?" Birae asked.

"No." Carphia shrugged.

Suddenly, the trio could hear rapid movement outside. Several Cheesians were moving about. 

A grumpy, monotone voice then rang out of an intercom. "If I may have your attention, gentlecheese. This is a High Alert. Please make your way to the nearest monitor. 

Joshua gasped. The three of of them exited the library and made their way into a large hallway. Several other Cheesians were present, along with many walking Cheese Men, flat creatures of a humanoid shape made entirely of cheese. In the center of the hallway was a large screen. Everyone was focused on it.

"Smith looks exactly the same as he did five years ago." Birae added.

"I haven't seen a High Alert before." Joshua admitted.

Smith, the man on the screen, continued. "It has been discovered that multiple batches of the Holy Cheese have been misplaced. As such, the Palace has been placed on lockdown. No vessels or Cheesians may arrive or depart until further notice. The Monger will be delivering a speech shortly."

Chapter 1: SausageryEdit


It was a hot day in an unknown location. Three men and one woman lied on the side of a freeway. The terrain was desert-like, and not many cars drove by as the four of them remained unconscious. The hour was about 2:00 in the afternoon, and the sun blasted a hellish warmth upon the lot of them. Two of the men wore formal outfits, fancied with ties and dress pants. The other man had a red superhero costume on, while the woman had cat-like makeup and other assorted feline arrangements placed around her. Eventually, one of the men in suits woke up. He had short black hair and pale white skin. He squinted and scowled, as if he were allergic to sunlight. He stood up and admired his surroundings, turning around slowly.

"Suunnnn..... aaaaaughhhhh," he grumbled in irritation. "WHY IS THERE SUNLIGHT!?" he complained in a thick English accent. He spotted the other suited man, who was lying there face-first into the sand.  The first man poked him with his finger, but he wasn't waking up. Repeatedly, he poked at the man. "Well, go on then!" This did nothing. After a while, he simply resorted to kicking the man in the leg. This woke him up.

"Aaaargh!" he shouted, lunging up and running around in circles. "What.... SAUSAGERY IS THIS!?" he yelled, holding his hands in fist formations and looking for someone to punch. He had dark brown hair and a small, appropriately-shaven beard. He also had an English accent, but a rougher, more posh version.

"Any idea what happened last night, Gold?" the first man asked. He spoke much smoother. 

"Well, we didn't have sex - I know that much!" 'Gold' shouted. "And don't use that name here. Wherever 'here' is..."

"I was not implying that, you wanker!"

"Oh, no, I meant with that tall redhead with the glasses. What was her name again?" The man stumbled, still adjusting to his surroundings. "Ehhh... that means last night was a failure. How unfortunate."

"None of that information is valuable to me. I will ask again: do you know what happened last night?"

"Well, how was I supposed to know, Par!? I never know with you... you could be making a rape joke or a hidden reference to the inevitable genocide of honey bees!"

"Precisely." Par said with a grin. "Either way, you have still failed to answer the question."

"Well, we didn't have sex. We obviously didn't take these ghastly suits off. My breath doesn't smell like Dr. Pepper. Neither of us are alcoholics, and HOLY SHIT, there are two people lying right here next to us!" He observed the costumed man and the semi-costumed woman, the latter of whom began yawning. She sat up and hissed as she realized where she was.

"Well damn, I must've been REALLY drunk yesterday..." she muttered.

"And who might you be?" Par asked.

"Not a sausage, I hope." Gold replied.

"Always sausages" Par complained.

"Don't start." Gold mumbled; Par shrugged.

"So, woman... erm... who the hell are you and why.. are you licking your hand..." Gold mentioned with a confused expression.

"Will both of you just shut up for a minute?" the woman demanded.

Gold was taken aback. "Well!" he shouted. "How rude!"

"And you calling me a penis ain't?" She asked.

"A pe-what? Wh-" he looked to Par for an answer, but he just gave him a confused look. "When did I EVER imply you were a penis!?"

"You just called me a sausage, did you not?" the woman asked.

"Yes, I did!"

"Well, what exactly is that supposed to imply if you're not calling me a DICK?"

"My dear lady, you have one pineapple-sized brain, don't you?" Gold began on his rant.

"Umm, you do realize pineapples are pretty big, right?" Par asked. Gold hesitated for a moment.

"Uh.. 'o course I do! You really have a nut-sized brain, don't you!?" Gold continued. "A sausage, by definition.." he began.

"His definition, by the way... no one else's." Par mentioned.

"-- is a person who, by default, embraces SAUSAGERY!" 

"And what is sausagery?" The woman asked, confused.

"Sausagery, by my definition, is the devotion, knowingly or not, to a sausage-y lifestyle.!"

"And what kind of lifestyle is that?" The woman continued to ask questions. Gold lost his patience.

"You know what!? I'm done. DONE!" He began stomping his foot on the ground. "You should've brought a fookin' dictionary here, woman, because I'm not intent to sit here and explain every damn word to you!" He stomped away.

"So, as my colleague asked before.... what is your name?" Par asked, annoyance in his voice as he ignored Gold's rants.

"Name's Keira Kinover-Mar, but don't get attached unless you want to be decapitated." She threatened.

"Decapitated?" Par asked, intrigued.

"Aye." Keira replied.

"Not good." Richard took notice. "She said 'aye.' Only we're supposed to do that. Something weird is going on here."

"Duly noted! This over here is Richard Nolan... we call him Gold, but that is a long story, too long to tell." Par explained. "And my name is, of course, Parax!" he said in a delightful tone.

"Parax.... that your full name?"

"Of COURSE!" Parax responded in a high-pitched voice.

Suddenly, Keira froze and looked at her arms and legs, complete with fur, paws, etc. She quickly removed every bit of the costume, leaving her in a simple sweater and pants.

"Sorry." Keira mumbled.

"I suppose it's a bit warm out here..." Richard remarked. "Nothing wrong with shedding your... erm... whiskers."

"A bit? This is fookin' scorched earth." Par complained. Suddenly, something large and pink approached the scene.

"Oh dear..." Richard took notice. "Are they stopping?"

"They are... stopping." Par prepared himself.

Chapter 2: The KinkmeisterEdit


The van

A bright pink van with the words "24-hour Calculus" written on the side in bright green permanent marker approached the scene. The van boasted strange metal fins protruding from its rear and angling upwards.The back of the vehicle had an additional platform used as a step-down, and four large pipes extended outwards from the back. A loud, thumping bass, which marched at about 115 BPM, could be heard from the vehicle's stereo as it pulled over to the side of the road near the group. Out from the back stepped a shirtless, tattoo-covered man, his hair loaded with product and his oily skin shining in the baking sun. Groovy, intense electronic music could be heard. The man was escorted by two women in revealing outfits who were each holding onto one of his arms. Out of the driver's seat stepped an unusual fellow in a black suit with a red tie, some green glasses,, and an orange bag. The most interesting thing about him, though, was his hair. It was blue. Yes, blue hair, despite the fact that he also had a black beard. He couldn't seem to decide what color he was going for, especially considering his shoes were pink. 

"Who are these wankers...?" Par mumbled, still squinting in the sun. Suddenly, another man stepped out of the passenger side of the vehicle; he was the last to join the party because he was so slow. He took his time walking around the vehicle, slowly revealing his gargantuan stomach which was creeping out under his shirt. He had long, messy, greasy brown hair which was filled with a couple empty snack bags. His beard was orange from Doritos and Cheetos, and he was munching on the orange chips as he stepped over to the shirtless man, who was busy kissing one of the women on the neck.

"Well..." the fat man blurted out in a mumbly, sad-sounding, thick southern voice. He spoke as if he were half-asleep and just wanted to go back to his bed, rather than saying anything. However, it seemed more like it was food he wanted, not sleep. "Should we say hi?" he asked.

"Indeed!" The blue-haired man spoke. His voice had a consistent tone of optimism, but he also sounded constipated. His accent was some hybrid between Irish and Australian. 

"Might as well." The shirtless man said. He began walking toward the group, and he was flanked by the blue-haired man and the fat man. The two women escorting him refused to walk, and rather just let him pull their weight as they held onto his arms. As he walked, the women would simply be dragged across the sand. The fat man seemed like he was struggling to keep up with them, despite their steady pace. The blue-haired man had a rather strange form of walking, though. He had his hands behind his back, and with every step he took, he pulled his knee up as far as it could go. It was as if he were marching, but for no apparent reason. He was putting a lot of effort into it too, although it was accomplishing nothing. He simply continued stepping like this, launching his knees upward repeatedly. The party reached Par and Richard.

"Haaaaaay!" The shirtless man greeted them.

"And who might you be?" Parax asked.

"I am the very sexy, kinkylicious Dentface, otherwise known as the slasher of the seeeeas, but, above all else, I am the Kinkmeister!" the shirtless man said dramatically, "and this here is Walka... the Walker of all the lands!" he pointed to the blue haired man, who bowed quickly. "This thing, here... is quite an incredible creature.." he pointed to the fat man.

"Hey hey hey hey hey hey, hold on a minute..." the fat man spoke up.

"This... is the Boogie Baby, otherwise known as Boog," he continued, "devourer and consumer of all things. Eunuch." Dentface said. "I've never seen anything like him!"

"Hey, Dent..."

"Hmmmmmm? What is it baby?" Dentface asked him.

"Shut the fuck up." The fat man, Boogie, protested. Richard seemed taken aback by this.

"How rude!" Richard exclaimed. 

"Hey you, just shut the fuck up." Boog responded.

"Yoooou sausage!" Richard exclaimed. Keira sighed. "Do you support sausagery!?" Richard asked him.

"Waaaat?" Boogie spoke in a loud, irritating voice. This seemed to annoy the costumed man enough to wake him up. He stood up out of nowhere, displaying his dirt-filled, wrinkled-up Spiderman costume.

"SPIDA-MAN, SPIDAMAN, DOES WHATEVUH A SPIDA CAN!" the costumed man said. "SPIDA-MAAAAYEAN!" as he said 'man' this time, his voice grew more high-pitched. The others noticed a revolting smell culminating around him.

"God, what is that!?" Par asked.

"There's some kind of kank around here." Dent deduced. "Nothing else could smell that bad, beybeys."

Suddenly, the blue-haired man, Walker, grabbed a banana from his orange bag.

"CURSE YOU, SPODERMAN!!!" Walker exclaimed before tossing the banana directly at the costumed man's head, instantly knocking him unconscious.

"Hey, there's no need for violence." Keira mentioned.

"Of course there is, you whore!" Walker shouted. "That man caused me a great deal of pain once... he had it coming!" As he spoke, his beard and hair flopped wildly in different directions.

"My my my... hay babeh." Dent gestured toward Keira. He flexed his muscles and spoke some words in Spanish, before continuing... "come to my van... I'll... reward you later." he said. Keira blushed, giggled, and then hurriedly continued her way toward the van. Boogie didn't seem to care about this, as he simply grabbed a container of Pringles out of his pants, opened it, and began to munch on them.

"And here I thought he had an abnormally big penis.." Par mentioned.

"And here I was thinking you said you weren't perverted." Richard said.

"I never said that..."  Par replied.

"Well, ye said you weren't overly perverted!" Richard responded.

"One does not have to be a pervert to simply observe a fat man with a boner." Par responded sharply with a "o_o" face.

"Just keep it to a minimum when we attend business meetings.... they'll think my, uh, brother's a rapist." Richard said.

"I am a rapist..." Par muttered. "Figuratively speaking."

"Well, don't go bloody showing it off!" Richard suggested.

"Obviously." Par replied. 

"So, baybayz... who are you kinks?" Dent asked. "Do ya need a riiiide?"

"I'm Richard Nolan, this here is Parax, and... I'm not sure who that guy over there is." Richard looked at the unconscious costumed man. "You've already.... encountered Keira, I believe."

"Mmmmmmmmmm, she went off to the Kinkmobile." Dent responded.

"The... kinkmobile? I'm sorry, what?" Richard asked. 

"Yes, it's my customized vehicle. Twenty-four hour calculus! Wanna sign up?" Dent responded with a smile.

"No, I don't. I want to know why the HELL I'm here!" Richard exclaimed.

"Well baby, maybe you're here cause you're supposed to be here..." Dent replied.

"And why am I supposed to be here, then?" 

"Tuh eat?" Boogie mumbled, finishing up his Pringles.

"Boogie, just... stop." Walker said.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, WALKER!" Boogie responded, tossing his empty Pringles container at Walker but missing.

"Just stahp." Walker persisted.

"Haaay babehs... guuuuise, calm down." Dent suggested. "I HAVE EPISODE SEVEN NEWS!" he shouted. This seemed to wake up the costumed man again. This time, he threw off his spiderman mask and stood up slowly.

"Daaamn you... JACK.... SPAAARAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" He shouted angrily. He had short hair, a small mustache and some average-looking glasses. He spoke in some sort of otherworldly Scottish accent.

"Silence, sausage." Richard said. 

"Ahhh, meat.... a dreadful food-ah!" The costumed man replied.

"What about steak? I love steak!" Par mentioned.

"I.... do not... love steak..." the man responded.

"Then you have no purpose on this earth; no man can dislike steak!" Par said. The man began walking away from them.

"Steak... my fork will always belong to you..."

"What." Richard spoke. The costumed man looked infuriated.

"STEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-AAAHHHHHHHHHKKKK!!!" He screamed. There was silence.

"So... you're not Spoderman anymore?" Walker inquired, still ready to pounce.

"Do I look like Spiderman to you?" the man replied grumpily.

Walker studied him. "Yes. I mean, you have everything except for the mask now." The man simply smacked his lips in response. Walker seemed satisfied with this. "The demon is at bay for now, then."

"Anyway, so the episode seven news!" Dent continued. "Sources confirm...."

"Well, spit it out, then!!" Par demanded.

"there will be...." he hesitated, "grass....... in Episode seven." Dent finished. There was more silence. Richard and Par scratched their heads.

"And what would prompt such an act of giving a shit?" the costumed man asked.

"Well.... ya see, it's... confirmed." Dent snapped his fingers.

"Sausage..." Richard muttered.

"So, what's your name babeh?" Dent asked the costumed man.

"I cannot be called 'baby' like some skimpy prostitute!" He shouted.

"Apparently, you can." Par mumbled.

"Name's Bill... but call me Davy Jones." Bill said.

"Just gonna call you Bill then..." Walker responded.

"Do not... test me." Bill replied.

"Or what? If you let Spoderman possess you again, I'll send you where Ood doesn't shine." Walker threatened.

"Let's just... settle down here. Everything is is fine. Relax." Richard suggested. Suddenly, a bear appeared out of nowhere. It began running extremely fast toward the pink van. 

"Uh, guys. Bear." Walker announced.

"Wot." Par took notice.

"What now!?" Richard shouted in frustration. The bear wasn't stopping, and it rammed straight into the van, knocking it over. Keira started screaming, shouting, and kicking. The animal began breaking the vehicle apart with its claws, shredding the leather seats and ripping away the wiring.

"No! Nooooooo! NAO NAO NAO NAO!" Dent started shouting, "NOT THE KINKMOBILE! NAAAOOO!" he ran toward the scene, but it was too late. The vehicle was ruined, and Dent could do nothing but watch as the bear tore it apart. "STAAAAHP. I CAN GIVE YOU EPISODE SEVEN NEWS!!! HEAR ME OUT!" Dent exclaimed, somehow hoping to reason with the bear. In fact, he seemed particularly surprised when it didn't listen to him, simply roaring in response instead.  

Somehow, amid the attack, Keira was able to escape the metallic prison. 

"WHAT THE HELL!?" she screamed, crawling out of one of the Kinkmobile's windows. The bear paid no mind to her, remaining focused on destroying the van. "Were none of you going to help me!? What the fuck is wrong with you!? What the FUCK is going on!?" Keira inquired. Nobody paid any mind to this. They were focused on the bear. Frustrated, Keira took off, running along the side of the road. 

"That's it. This baybitchbay is gonna baybitchPAY! EVERYONE, ATTACK THAT BEAR! FUCK HIM UP! KINK HIM UP!" Dent yelled. Only Walker obeyed, grabbing dual bananas and charging toward the animal fearlessly.

"FOR OOOOOOOOOOD!!!!" Walker exclaimed as he heroically challenged the bear. This did nothing. The creature noticed Walker instantly and grabbed one of the vehicle's tires with its mouth, throwing it at him; this rendered him useless. The bear then grabbed what was left of the Kinkmobile and carried it away like a dog with a bone.

"Damn bears." Par mumbled.

"Why... WHY!?" Dent collapsed to his knees. His women didn't expect this, so it took them a moment to collapse as well. As his mental state deteriorated, theirs did as well. "Why does the kink punish me? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS!?" He began crying, and his women did as well, as if on command.

"It could be a sign that we weren't supposed to stop for these people." Walker suggested, recovering from the bear's attack.

"Nao, beyboy. The kink is punishing me. That was my favorite Kinkmobile." Dent looked down in shame. There was silence.

"Well, that certainly got heavy." Richard broke it.

"Not as heavy as Boogie, I am afraid..." Par mumbled.

"Hey hey hey hey hey... I ain't fat! It's my hair!" Boogie grumbled while munching on some Cheetos, clearly not giving a damn about what just happened.  "It makes me... poofy."

"Hay now baybay, you say you're not fat... just like you say you're nawt stupid." Dent mentioned.

"Hey hey hey hey, I'm actually pretty smart." Boogie muttered.

"Clearly not, baybay." Dent responded. Bill, still in his Davy Jones persona, laughed in a strange manner at this comment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Bill." Boogie snapped.

"My dear Boogie Baby, how rude you are!" Richard commented.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, GOLD!" Boogie shouted.

"How does he..?" Richard looked to Par. "How does he know my nickname?" 

"I might have mentioned it." Par muttered.

"Well, aren't you a sausage!?" Richard grumbled.

Dent stood up, adjusting himself. He smiled and kissed his women reassuringly. He pulled a pink phone and began sending out a text.

"Dent, were you not just depressed about your van being carried off by a bear?" Par mentioned.

"Yes, I was..." Dent muttered, stroking his hair --which was soaked in product-- slowly. "But I've got spares!!"

"You just have multiple pink vans lying around?" Richard asked.

"Just two, baybay." Dent replied. Clearly not receiving an answer to his text, he proceeded to call the person instead. "HAAAAAAY, JIM BAYBAY. Virtual hug! How ya doin!? Mmmmm, gooood, beybay. How far out are ya? MMMMMM. Well, baybaaaaay, I needja to do me a favor."

"Did he just say... virtual hug...?" Richard asked.

"This Jim person sounds like a questionable contact. I do not think we can rely on these people to get us out of here. We might need to make a call." Par contemplated.

"Aye. That'll be another black mark on our record." Richard mumbled.

"Naaaaw, baybehs!" Dent exclaimed, having finished his phone call. "Don't worreh! Jim Logan is a kinked up baybay of the highest degree! He's been kinky for years!"

"Because he has literally nothing else to do with his life." Walker muttered. "On Ood, we call that a dud."

"Huergh." Boogie chimed in, still eating. Talking seemed to be a nuisance to him, as it interrupted his chewing. As such, he elected to do both simultaneously. "Jim is sad."

"Don't be a hypocrite, Boog." Walker replied. "Don't make me bring up your incident again."

"HEY! If you didn't stop so fast, I wouldn't have hit my belly on the console! And then I'd still have my lunch!" Boogie shouted.

"Just calm down, baybays. As a servant of the kink, Jim will get us out of this." Dent reassured them. "He'll be here with my backup van in a few, so just sit tight."

"Excuse me, but might I ask a question?" Richard began. "Do any of us, besides the crew of freaks over there, know why the hell we're here!?"

"I cannot step foot on land but once every ten years... I guess this is the one day." Bill said. "Ahh! It feels great, land-ah! After a decade at sea.... but in truth, the sea is my love..... but so is steak-ah! I love them both, equally..."

"Okay, whatever that means...  PAR!" Richard shouted.

"Hmm?" Par muttered.

"Why are we here!?"

"I don't know... were we not attending that dinner party last night?" Par asked.

"Yes, so how the hell did we end up in the middle of the desert?" Richard asked.

"Hey hey hey hey hey hey," Boogie began, interrupting the conversation. "We aren't freaks. We're actually pretty cool." Boogie said as he finished his bag of cheetos and went for a bag of potato chips, which was gently lodged between his massive sack of hair that extended from his chin and his neck. He nearly dropped it, his hands completely orange from his snacks and the bag sweaty and greasy from being down there for who-knows-how-long. He ripped it open violently, sending a chip into his eye. "AAAAAAEROUGHH!" He shouted in a scratchy, scruffy voice. Bill twitched at the sound of Boogie's voice. 

"Your voice...-ah! Your terrible noises-ah!" Bill shouted. "They bother me, they annoy me... they make me want to curse a poor man with his loveliest bird and then reveal it to be plush, and not but... cloth! A stuffed animal bird is what you'll get Mr. Boogie-ah!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, BILL!" Boogie shouted. He seemed to shout this every time Bill tried to speak. 

"Silence!" Richard shouted.

"You're not Doobledore, you IMPOSTOR!" Walker shouted as he threw an apple at Richard. Richard caught it, and his face turned red.

"Well, aren't you one nauseated sausage!?" Richard shouted, preparing to throw the apple back at Walker, but Walker had other plans. He swooped his arm down into his orange man-purse, his blue hair flopping wildly as he swung out two oranges from it, barely holding them with one hand. He proceeded to grab them both and hold them up to Richard.

"Bitch please." Walker commented. Richard shrugged. He knew he was out-gunned.

"I'll just... keep this then." Richard muttered, stuffing the apple into his coat pocket.

"Anyway, as I was saying, we were at a dinner party last night, but we have no bloody idea why we are here or where here even is." Par seemed pretty unhappy. "That woman is nowhere to be seen, the delusional hair product man's pink rape van got destroyed by a bear, and now he wants to bring some other wanker along."

"Well, we can piece this together. Mr. Dent, where are we?" Richard asked.

"We're in northeast Colorado, I think, bibeh." Dent replied. "Not really sure."

"I try to map out all of our destinations, but Dent prefers to play things a bit random." Walker explained.

"I told ya, it's the best way to let the Kink flow!" Dent explained.

"Right. Anyways, we're not far from Denver." Walker explained.

"Fucking Colorado." Richard muttered. "How the hell did we end up here?"

"Why on earth would I come to Colorado?" Bill asked. "It's just a hot, boring desert. And it's quite far from the sea-ah. A most foolish place."

"Bill, what were you doing last night?" Richard asked.

"I was running my normal errands-ah. Watching some nice anime while eating some ice cream-ah! It was a lovely eating with my trio of pussies." Bill said.

"Wat" - Richard

"Wot" - Par

"Waot" - Boogie

"Wut" - Walker

"Dafuck?" - Dent

"What!?" Bill suddenly asked. "While stepping foot on land is great, I must get back home. I'm going to miss my beloved anime." 

"So, let me get this straight... we were all just doing normal shit and suddenly we ended up here?" Richard asked, looking to Bill and Par. "And why did you even stop here?" He looked at Dent.

"I figured you baibeez might have wanted some nice calculus!" Dent shouted, tilting his head where the sun would shine on his hair. "Offer's still up, by the way..." he said as his two women giggled.

"We're not interested in... whatever the hell that is!" Richard said.  

"Well, baybay, Boogie chose this route." Dent explained. "And sometimes, you just know when the Kink is speakin' to ya. It works in mysterious ways, beyboy. Even Boogie can be an instrument of a higher force!" 

"Shut the fuck up." Boogie mumbled, pulling a container of jerky from his underpants. He began chewing. 

Suddenly, Dent's phone chimed. A voice rang out. 


"Hai Jim Baybey," Dent said. "You almost here beybah?" 

"Nope, I'm sorry, but I can't come back!" Jim shouted over the phone.

"Why not bibeeh?" Dent asked.

"Well, I've found someone... someone I like more than you! Finally, don'tcha think? She's great! And she likes to REAL hug... isn't that great? A REAL hug!"

"Wait, hold on bibay... you're not coming back?" Dent's hopes were shattered.

"Nope, -" Jim began, but he was cut off.

"Nope, he's not, because he's got me!" Keira shouted over the phone. "Y'all should have thought twice about fucking me over. Assholes." She then hung up the phone. Dent, whose face was red-hot, began desperately calling back. This did nothing. He kept trying, endlessly dialing, the phone endlessly ringing. No answer.

"My own customer turned against me... NAO NAO NAO NAO NAO!" He shouted. "BOTH KINKMOBILES ARE GOOONE! WHYYYYYYYY!? AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" He yelled, still not moving from his position. He simply stood there, yelling as two women held onto his muscular, sweaty, shiny arms. He was as motionless as a derelict vessel at sea. "BOOGIE BABY!" he shouted. 

"Waaaaot?" Boogie asked, finishing his potato chips and his jerky simultaneously.

"You know what to do..." Dent handed the phone to him. Boogie looked happy to see this, as he instantly, out-of-nowhere, swallowed the phone whole. After that he let out a loud, robotic-sounding burp.

"What now, then?" Walker asked.

"Welp, that is it. We need to make a call." Par declared.

"Indeed." Richard pulled out a communicator from his jacket and contacted someone. The machine wasn't a smartphone, but instead a strange looking black gadget in the shape of a beetle. Pacing around while the call went through, Richard rolled his eyes and looked up. He reached into his coat pocket and procured some sunglasses, which he haphazardly placed on his head with his free hand. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. A vague voice started yelling out from the device. Richard's eyebrows extended upwards. He sighed as the voice continued for a few more seconds. Curse words were heard, followed by an incessant beeping. Richard returned the device to his pocket.

"Well-ah?" Bill inquired.

"Now then... we need a ride." Richard suggested.

Chapter 3: The Exotic BilliamEdit


The hour was 4:05 PM. Without any transportation, the group was left with few options.

"What did they say?" Par asked.

"They're... pretty upset about last night." Richard explained. "We didn't exactly get much done."

"Bah. They should still help us out." Par replied.

"What they 'should' do is entirely irrelevant, I'm afraid. What they WILL do is what matters, which, in this particular situation, is nothing." Richard added. "We'll have to wait until they... cool down a bit."

"Well then." Par shrugged. "In that case, BILL. Anyone you can call?"

Bill considered this question. He looked to the side for a moment, pondering. Finally... "No."

"I guess we'll have to rely on the Kink to bring us our survival, baybays." Dent declared. "Someone will pass along and rescue us!"

"Someone should stand by the road and wave them down. They might not notice us very well, especially in the desert." Par added.

"Well, who should go?" Richard asked.

"Well, obviously, females will attract more passing motorists." Walker suggested, stroking his black beard as he spoke. 

"And why's that? I think I'm pretty good-looking!" Boog derpily commented. "Gobble Gobble gop."

"No... just no." Walker plucked out a small piece of hair from his beard as he said this.

"Well, what male motorist could resist one of Dent's escorts? Humans, especially males, always think with their reproductive organs." Par mentioned.

"I'm sorreh buhbai, but mai bebies cannot leave mah side." Dent said.

"What do you mean?" Richard asked.

"Well you see, baybay, they're mentally glued to me." Dent responded with a kitty face.

"So tell one of them to stand on the street and poke our her arse. It will not take long." Par recommended.

"Nao nao nao, beybahs. Ya don't understand." Dent explained. "Mah bibehs are reserved for my kinkyness. If they were to offer themselves to another, it would break the sacred bond. No can do, baybay."

"My dear." Richard said, thinking about this for a good moment. "I wonder if that could actually work... Par!"


"Take note of this for one of my future experiments!" Richard went off on a rant.

"Gold, I am yer... erm, half-brother, not yer butler." Par glared.

"Just do it, ye confoodler." Richard insulted.

"No, you." Par said stubbornly before pulling a can of Hawaiian Punch out of nowhere and consuming it.

"Aaargh." Richard then stole a notebook from Par and began scribbling.

"So, you are sure that your women cannot do the job?" Par asked.

"No dice." Dent replied.

"Yes, you have no dice. That's quite apparent." Richard remarked. "Hmm. We really shouldn't have let Keira escape."

"That BAYBITCHBAY!" Dent exclaimed. "If not for her, Jim would be here by now with my FACKIN' Kinkmobile!"

"If not for you sending her to your van, she wouldn't have been attacked by a bear." Richard added.

"And if someone would have helped her, maybe she would be here now to attract some attention." Par added.

"Fack." Dent said. "Fackin fack fack fackity FACK!"

"Well then, what other wanker could go?" Par asked.

"Bill is clearly the most feminine of us besides the two women here." Walker suggested slyly.

"What's this-ah!?" Bill asked.

"Yes, I agree!" Richard returned from his brainstorming. "He certainly has an interesting look. We hereby elect Billiam to attract motorists!"

"And what would prompt such an act of bullshit-ah!?" Bill demanded.

"You are quite feminine..." Par admitted.

"He'll need to look better than that," Boogie said with a weirdass giggle, "HOUH-HOUH-HOUH."

"SILENCE, WANKER!" Par shouted.

"SILENCE, SAUSAGE!" Richard added.

"SILENCE, BOOGIE BABY!" Dent yelled.

"FUCK Y'ALL!!!!" Boogie screamed, rage-quitting and attempting to run away from them to cool off. However, this proved quite difficult for him seeing as he was so fat that he couldn't move fast. He simply wobbled slowly away, grumbling and eating in an angry fit.

"Well, that certainly got heavy... not unlike Boogie!" Richard repeated.

"SHADDAFACK AHP" Boogie shouted from the distance, still wobbling away. 

"He has a point though, Bill will need to look better than that..." Par stated. "That costume has to go. Nobody stops for weirdos except other weirdos. Hmmm... I know what to do!" Par said before promptly ripping off a bikini from one of Dent's women. She gasped, and Dent started huffing and puffing. He ceased this when he glanced at the woman, though. The sight kept him satisfied.  

Par then dragged Bill's costume off. Bill, however, didn't seem to care at all about his clothes being ripped off. Instead, he was being completely amazed by the scene of a naked woman, who was gasping and still holding onto Dent, who was rubbing oil all over himself. 

"Lookie here, boys! A naked girl... a naked girl who has no clothes!" Bill shouted. 

"You BAYBITCHBAY, that's my baybay! Eyes off and dicks down." Dent ordered. Par paid no mind to this and quickly stuffed Bill's Spiderman costume onto the woman. Dent was getting heated up, and his sweat was even more apparent. Par stuffed the bikini on Bill, who was still in shock at seeing the woman. He didn't flinch.

"There, perfect!" Par grinned cheerfully as he stared at his masterpiece.

"Now get on out there... be ready for a passing car. Do a crazy dance or something." Richard said.

"I cannot be advertised like some slutty blonde-ah!" Bill complained.

"Apparently you can." Par responded. 

"You dried out fish!" Bill insulted.

"Shut your trap and get out there, sausage! You can eat fish when you're dead, push on!" Richard yelled. They shoved Bill onto the road.

"And now, we present... THE EXOTIC... BILLIAM!" Par shouted.

"Oooh, biybeh." Dent commented. 

"Did you forget? I'm a fantastic dancer-ah!" Bill grinned as he began showing off his "skills". He was flopping around wildly, shaking his rear end a lot and flapping his arms like a bird.

"This was a bad idea. Someone might run him over..." Walker added.

"Eh, who cares?" Richard said. Eventually, a truck approached. Bill began dancing. Boogie saw this, and began racing back.

"MOM, I SWEAR, I'M HUNGRYY!!" Boogie screamed.

"Wot." Par commented.

"IS THAT MINE WITH CHEEESE? IT HAS BACON!!" Boogie was shouting random gibberish. It appeared he was‐finally—out of food to eat, and this was causing him to go on a rampage. 

The truck pulled over, the driver noticing Bill and at first thinking he was a woman. There was a smaller man in the passenger seat.

"Hey, what's your name-" The man asked, noticing Bill. "Wait a second. You're not what I thought..." Bill noticed he had a stuffed duck sticking out of his pants. His hair was short, and he looked like a typical 20-year-old dude. "What are you trying to pull... dude?" 

"You, my good sir-AH! That's what we're pulling... out of this car-ah!" Bill shouted as he violently grabbed the man and pulled him out of the car, throwing him down to the ground. The passenger was panicking.

"Bill, that's not how you go about these things baybai!" Dent shouted. Richard sighed.

"Hey, man, FUCK OFF!" the driver said, standing up. He punched Bill in the face, knocking him back.

"Boogie Baby, you know what to do." Dent said.

"OKAI!" Boogie shouted, wobbling toward the driver and tackling him to the ground, his massive weight holding the man captive. Bill stood, bleeding slightly from his mouth. He hopped into the driver's seat. The passenger cupped his mouth and nose.

"Lookie here, boys... a Ford F-150-AH! A Ford F-150 that never learned to drive-ah!" Bill shouted, studying the vehicle.

"Dude, get away!" The passenger said, shoving Bill out of the truck.

"Bill, you didn't even strap yourself in! Do you even know how to drive?" Richard inquired.

"My license was forfeit long ago!" Bill announced.

"Get away, you creep!" The passenger exclaimed, moving into the driver's seat. He put the car in Drive and tried to accelerate. This did nothing. "W-what the hell? Nnam, what happened!?" Bill grinned toothily as this occurred.

"You can do nothing without the key-ah!" Bill yelled.

"What? I already have the key in!!" The man said, too shocked to look away from Bill.

"No you don't!" Bill replied, holding up the keys and dangling them in front of the man. "Haha!"

"Give me those!" The passenger yelled, suddenly grabbing them from Bill, putting them in.

"Huh?" Bill didn't expect this.

"Sorry Nnam, your fault." The passenger replied, starting the truck. He slammed the door shut, locked it, and launched the vehicle forward.

"HARRIDAN!" Bill shouted angrily as the man drove away. However, the driver was still kept captive by Boog. It seemed they'd reached an agreement, though, with the man standing up freely and Boogie eating a snickers bar.

"What is that..." Par began.

"Oh! Sorry..." the driver said, stuffing the plush duck back into his pants. 

"So, who are you, baybaaaay?" Dent grinned.

"Name's Nnam... now, does anyone wanna explain what the FUCK is going on?" Nnam asked.

"Nobody does, because we have no idea." Richard muttered.

"What?" Nnam was confused.

Richard sighed. "Great, another sausage on our trip..."

"What? Sausage?" Nnam asked.

"Oh my goodness, DO I HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS TO EVERYONE!?" Richard exclaimed.

"Whatever bro..." Nnam muttered. "Fuck. Sausage sounds good. I'm hungry."

"I'm always hungry! Heyank." Boogie added, finishing his Snickers bar.

"Well, Mr. Nnam, could you call your friend back and have him pick you up?" Par asked.

"Uh, no." Nnam replied. "My phone's in the truck. Besides, he probably won't come back."

"Are there any nearby towns?" Walker asked.

"Nope. At least 10 miles either way." Nnam explained.

"Fook." Par sighed.

"So, dude." Nnam looked at Bill. "What's your name?"

Bill simply stared at him with a blank expression.

"His name is BHEEL, beyboy." Dent explained.

"Haha. Well, Bill. Honest to God, I thought you were a woman. I'm not gonna lie, dude, your outfit is pretty convincing." Nnam chuckled. Suddenly, Bill marched up to him. Before Nnam could react, the bikini-wearing man grabbed him and stuck two fingers up his nose. Nnam gasped, choked, and flew back, shoving Bill away. "GOD! WHAT THE FUCK? THAT'S NASTY!" He fell over, dazed.

"Ha ha. HA HA." Bill enjoyed this. Suddenly, the group jumped to attention when they saw another vehicle approaching. This one was a crossover.

"Alright, Bill. Try a more.. sophisticated approach." Richard suggested.

"Come to join my crew again, Mr. Motorist!?" Bill asked, clearly not being heard by the driver of the vehicle, who was only a few yards away now. The crossover simply dodged him, driving right by him and going about its merry way. "Come back here, you dried-out fish!" Bill shouted, turning around to chase after the vehicle. "LET NO JOYFUL TRIP BE RODE... LET NO MAN LOOK TO THE HIGHWAYS WITH HOPE... AND LET THIS MOTORIST BE CURSED... BY I, WHO READY TO WAKE... THE DRUNK... DRIVERS-AH!" Bill yelled. This did nothing, as the vehicle simply drove away. 

"Well, that certainly escalated quickly." Richard said.  

They waited. An hour later, another car approached. Bill stood on the road again and began dancing, shaking around in an attempt to distract the driver. This failed, though, as the vehicle was clearly turning - planning to miss him. Angered by this, Bill threw a rock at the vehicle. This provoked the driver, who then drove full-speed toward Bill. 

"YOU WILL NOT FORESTALL MY DANCING--" Bill was cut off as he was hit by the car, knocking him unconscious. Hours later, Bill finally woke up again. This time, he had a strange high-pitched voice. "Ah, yes... I was wondering what would awaken first - my Bane personality... or Magneto!" he said with a groan as he stood up.

"You have multiple personalities?" Par inquired.

"Of course!" Bill squawked. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes." He walked onto the road, awaiting the next vehicle, which eventually came ten minutes later. "Time to go mobile." Bill declared, displaying some out-of-nowhere spectacular dancing moves. This caught the group by surprise. His body language was nothing like it was before. He'd completely changed, from his muscle strength, to his flexibility, to his odd voice. His dancing also caught the attention of the next driver, who was manning a large SUV toward them. He slowed down, then came to a stop next to Bill. He rolled down his window.

"Hey man, what's up with the bikini?" The driver asked.

"Does your vehicle hold eight people?" Bill asked.

Nnam, regaining composure, began counting. It took him a minute to realize what Bill had said. "Hey, wait! What about me?"

"Silence, twat." Par shut him down instantly. There was no time for failure now.

"Yup, sure it could." The driver said in a nasal-y, somewhat high-pitched Italian voice. He was alone.

"And for the sake of your children," Bill began, inspecting the name on the man's backpack, "Mr. Squirto, indeed I hope it does..."

"What? Oh.. okay... um... sure, get in!" Squirto said. He had a mustache, he was rather short, and he had a consistent smile on his face. He didn't seem to bothered by his new visitors. He was probably entertained by them.

"Do you know what this is?" Bill gestured to the vehicle.

"Um... it's my car?" Squirt asked.

"This..." Bill began, "is a fully functional Ford Escape vehicle, capable of holding up to... eight people."

"Yes..." Squirt replied, unsure of what Bill was getting at. Meanwhile, Dent loaded up in the rearest section, taking up three whole seats with his women. In the middle section, Par and Richard made themselves comfortable. Boogie attempted to sit next to them, but Par insisted otherwise, and Walker ended up sitting next to them instead. Boog ended up sitting in the passenger seat, causing the whole vehicle to tilt one way. Nnam tried to find an open seat, but they had all been taken up. They had learned from their previous mistakes. Bill could spook the driver at any time, and they had to get in while they could.

"I've never had this many passengers before..." Squirto grew worried. "That guy is really big. I don't know if she can handle the weight..."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Boogie quacked.

"Whoa. Dude, calm down."

"Me calm down? HEURGH! HEYAURGH!" Boogie quacked. "You're the one, like, whining over there."

"Seriously? Haha, okay, man. Get out of the car. I will fuck you up-" Squirto was interrupted.

"No. NO! You don't fuck Boogie. Boogie fucks you." Boog declared.

"Just relax, beybays. Boogie is always like this." Dent explained.

"And a list of people who have driven it would consist of..." Bill began, nudging Squirt to add onto his sentence.

"Only me." Squirto replied.

"Only you.." Bill confirmed. He then grabbed Squirt, dragging him out of the vehicle and throwing him on top of Nnam. Bill proceeded to man the vehicle, closing --and locking-- the doors.

"Assholes! That's my car!" Squirt protested.

"Wait... WHAT ABOUT ME!?" Nnam yelled, desperately trying to get their attention.

"Snooze you lose!" Walker yelled from the right side of the car.

"I'm afraid we have no room for dumbasses, Mr. Nnam." Bill stated, starting the car.

"Don't just leave me here! Like, what the fuck!? Can't you make room?" Nnam asked.

"Not sure, we are already pushing things with Boog..." Par observed.

"We might be able to load him in the trunk, or on the top." Richard suggested.

"We can!" Bill yelled. "But we won't." He hit the accelerator, driving forward and creating a large spray of dust which flew all over Nnam and Squirt, leaving the two castaways in the desert.

Chapter 4: A Road TripEdit


The hour was 7:49 PM. The crew set off in their new vehicle, driving north toward the closest town. The sun was going down and an orange glow envelop the sandy terrain. The desert began to transition into a more mountainous and wooded area. Cacti littered the surrounding patches, and the road curved, dipped and swung in various directions, much unlike the previous flat, straight paths. The ride was a bit uncomfortable for all of them, as they were packed tightly into the vehicle, which maintained a staunch stench. Boogie had it the worst, as he had to sit next to the source of the odor, Bill.

"Squirto's precious Ford Escape... gratefully accepted! We will need it," Bill declared.

"Yum-um-um-um-um-um," Boogie grumbled, munching on a Twix bar that he scavenged from the car.

"Will you ever stop your infernal eating?" Par asked. Boogie didn't respond - his mouth was full.

"I'm afraid he has a way of finding food wherever he goes," Walker added. "There's a reason I keep him away from my bag."

"Mmmrgh," Boogie munched. "Forgive me if I'm STARVED! I'm down one meal, after all."

"Stop smacking or be sausage'd upon!" Richard shouted.

"You got a PROBLEM, GOLD!?" Boogie retorted in a disrespectful tone.

"Boogie baby, behave behbai," Dent commented. Boogie grumbled in retaliation.

None of them had a very good view of the road ahead other than Bill and Boogie, both of whom seemed otherwise occupied.

"Have you seen any street signs, Bill?" Par asked.

"Or any mile markers?" Walker added.

"No," Bill replied as he passed a mile marker.

"Wait, what about that one right there!?" Richard took notice.

"Oops," Bill replied unenthusiastically.

"HUERGH! Bill can't drive. Can he even see? I bet he can't see! Herhheeugh!" Boogie squeaked.

"Don't make me stick a fork up your ass, Boogie Baby," Richard threatened.

"You'd like that, Gold?" Boog asked.

"For goodness' sake, m'name's Richard!"

"You call me Baby, I call you Gold," Boogie said while chewing some more food. He was leaning against the side door of the vehicle, his weight tilting the entire car to lean on the right side as it made its way down the hot, dry road.

"You address me as I ask, or I'll fork you in the nipple," Richard replied

"Mmmm. I think Gold's got a thang for me," Boogie responded before continuing with his abnormal, ear-piercing, brain-raping laugh. "EAU-HAH-HAH-HAAAUEGHHH!"

"You know what I have a thing for? Nipple droppings, nose particles, and.... petrified penises." Richard's eyes grew wide as he gave Boog a disturbing grin. "I've taken all three from certain, undesirable sausages who have really inconvenienced me. So, let me make this plain: don't be an inconvenience."

"WAOT," Boogie responded blankly before consuming an entire bag of Doritos. Literally, an entire bag. He didn't even bother to open the bag; he just ate the whole thing along with the chips inside before letting out a plastic burp.

"Or perhaps he's wondering why you'd act like a dried-out fish... before acting as if you don't care about the retaliation." Bill was actually making sense for once. "The fact that you try to act okay with the insults just shows how sensitive you are to being called a name... so sensitive, in fact, that it's given me a plan..."

"Oyeah, and what exactly is that?" Boogie asked in an irritated -and irritating-- voice.

"First, come up with an annoying name for you..." Bill said, "how about..." he looked around, then noticed a box of Susan brand tissues left by Squirt. "...Susan!" Bill's high-pitch voice squeaked with excitement.

"Waot," Boogie grumbled with a nice belch.

"Susan... these tissues are yours!" Bill handed him the box, still driving. "do as you please.... none will interfere! But start by blowing your nose, so your voice will be less aggravating! Then, you will stop eating, stop talking, stop laughing, and accept your new name. And then..."

"Bill, shut the fuack up," Boogie responded.

"And then..." Bill tried again.

"AAAAAEEERUEGH!" Boogie screeched unhappily. "Why do you just keep on talking!? Dammit, Bill."

"And then...."

"If I can't talk or eat, I'll just have to do my third favorite thing." Boogie grinned greasily.

"And what might that be?" Par squinted.

"Taking a SHAT," Boogie scrunched, rubbing his rear end against the seat. He began convulsing in a strange manner.

"But I haven't even told you the next part of my master plan, Mr. Boogie..." Bill kept his eyes on the road, unconcerned.

"And what the fuck is that?" Boog asked, still stretching his ass against the fabric.

"Booting you from this vehicle," Bill stated plainly as he pressed a switch from his end that unlocked Boogie's door. "Without stopping!" Without a lock, the door was unable to hold Boogie's weight. Slowly, he slid out of the car, the door creaking open. He didn't notice at first, as he was too busy pretending to shit himself.

POP! The door slammed open and, before Boogie knew, he was halfway outside the car. Bill sped up. Boogie's seatbelt was holding his legs in, but his entire upper torso, including his massive bush of a beard, his long, curly hair, and his round, greasy head hung outside the car and blew in the wind.

"AHHHHHHHHH!" Boog screeched, scruffily screaming in his annoying tone. "MOTHER FU'ER!" Empty chip bags flew out of his hair.

"He looks like he is being raped," Par said with a grin.

"This brings you happiness?" Richard asked.

"Yes!" Par said, still smiling. Eventually, Bill came to a halt when he saw a bear in the road ahead.

"SHIT!" Bill shouted.

"That is unlikely." Par studied the situation. The creature was moving toward them slowly.

"Fuck!" Boogie shouted, spazzing out and panicking. He tried desperately to climb back into the vehicle, but his weight was too much.


"I don't think so," Richard commented. "I think that's a different bear."

"That would be improbable," Par added.

"It's a different bear," Walker affirmed.

"Bill, get us out of here!" Richard requested.

"NUH UH UH!" Dent ordered. "Run that BITCH over."

"Aaaargh!" Bill was frustrated. "Make up your minds!"

It was too late; the bear arrived at the car. However, it seemed that Boogie was so hairy that the bear thought he was one of its own. The bear attempted to hug him, moving up to him and locking its arms around him. It dragged him out of the vehicle, ripping the seatbelt apart.

"AHHHHHH! MOTHERFUCKER!" Boogie screamed, slapping the bear in the face. The bear was infuriated at this rude gesture, and shoved him into the air. Boogie bounced off of the car and fell face-splat onto the ground. "AAAAOWH! MY ASS!"

"Two bears, nine'o'clock!" Walker shouted. Richard checked his clock.

"That's an hour away, what relevance does that have!?" Richard shouted.

"NO, BEARS!" Walker shouted, pointing out the left side of the vehicle. Two more bears were storming towards them.

"My watch must be wrong, then." Richard frowned.

Bill smashed the pedal, but before he could drive away, Boogie grabbed ahold of the back of the car, and the vehicle was slowed by his weight.


As Bill drove, he found more bears in front of him. An entire group of them swarmed the path ahead, and the ones from before were trailing from behind.

"Billeh! Do somethin' baybay!" Dent demanded.

"Do not just sit there," Par added.

To the left, a bumpy field of rocks and dirt. To the right, a massive jungle of cacti that he could never drive through. There was only one option.

Bill reversed to the right and then maneuvered maniacally to the left. Swerving in different directions, he dodged the bears and blasted through the open, flat field, sending dust everywhere and sending the car bumping up and down vigorously. The Ford Escape was not designed for offroading.

"Why the hell did we let this sausage drive in the first place!?" Richard shouted.

"I dunno, he just sort of took the wheel!" Walker explained. Boogie was not having a good day, as he was still holding onto the back of the car, his massive weight somehow lifting him into the air. He was getting covered in sand as he bounced back and forth, his legs dragging against the dirt. Bill was driving at a ridiculous speed.

"HAAAAAALP!!!" Boogie shouted. Dent's women—one of them still in the spiderman costume—were cowering down in their seats, but Dent was cheering the chase on.


"This is not the time for fear..." Bill, --still in a bikini-- said in a calm voice.

"Are you sure about that?" Walker remarked.

"Of course not! That comes later!" he finished as he sent the car into a nice 80 MPH, making it nearly impossible for Boog to maintain his grip. Despite this, the group of bears was still following them, and more bears seemed to be appearing out of nowhere everywhere they went.

"Something is not normal... even my mother does not act like this," Par mentioned. The skies grew darker as the sun began to fall. It was entering evening hours, and the bears seemed to appear out of the shadows like ghosts. Eventually, they saw a bear in the distance coming straight toward them from ahead. Bill was barely able to dodge it. He saw a small mountain ahead.

"This, my friends, is the time for fear," Bill declared as he sped the car up even more, driving them toward the mountain. He aimed for a crossing in the mountain's uphill slope where trees had been cut to ensure that a power line could be installed safely. Driving up the steep mountain at a speedy pace, it was quite more than a "bumpy" ride. One bump caused Richard to bounce up in the car and hit his head on the top of the vehicle.

"Fork up yours, Billiam!" Richard shouted.

Another bump sent Dent's head straight into the car's ceiling, but he was unaffected. Meanwhile, Boogie was still being dragged and flopped around. Eventually, a bear came out from the trees and landed on the front of the car, smashing the window. This caused Bill to stop the car.

"BEEEEEAR!" Walker shouted.

"HAVE AN APPLE, YOU OVERGROWN SAUSAGE!" Richard shouted, grabbing the apple Walker had given him and smashing it into the bear's eye. This caused the creature to stagger back, and Bill hit the ignition to drive forward past the bear, shoving it aside with the car's force. Unfortunately, it then grabbed ahold of Boogie.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHH HALP!" Boogie shouted. Dent, in the back of the car, felt an urge to save his Boogie baby. "DEEENT! HAAALP!"


"HOLD YOUR HORSES!" Walker shouted before grabbing a small chainsaw-like device out of his orange man-purse and handing it to Dent, who tried to use it to break the car's back window. This did nothing, as the device was too short. Dent then sawed off the lower part of his right leg, then used it to smash the window open. He stuck it out toward Boog.

"WHAT THE FACK IS THAT?" Boogie asked, horrified.

"Grab my leg, baybay!" Dent demanded. Boogie, having no other options, grasped the dirty, blood-covered foot of Dent's severed leg and hoped for the best. Dent pulled and began to reel him in, losing the bear. The car was reaching the top of the mountain. As Boogie was pulled in, he sat on top of one of Dent's women, nearly suffocating her.

"ABOUT TIME!" He grumbled.

"Now now Boogie, do realize we will just kick you out again if you act like that," Par said.

"SHADDAFACK AHP!" Boogie retaliated.

"Find a road!" Walker shouted at Bill.

"I'm working on it, you stubborn citizen!" Bill declared, dodging some trees as he drove into the woods.

"Dent, you will bleed out with that type of injury," Par noticed what the Kinkmeister had done. "You have to cover that, now."

"Naaaao, it's fien," Dent replied as blood poured out of his limb. "I'm too pimp for pain, behbezes." He bragged, running his hand over himself, collecting any sweat that he might have produced. He proceeded to cup the liquid into one palm and splash it onto his wound, coating it in his fluid. This somehow kept the blood from escaping. Eventually, Bill found his way onto a road in the wooded area. They were deep into the mountain now. As they reached the street, however, they noticed bears were still roaming the area.

"Damn bears," Par said.

"Where the hell are these sausages coming from?" Richard asked.

"We need a hoover tonk!" Walker exclaimed. Nobody understood this, so they ignored it.

"Time to go badass," Bill explained, driving the vehicle speedily again in an attempt to find safety.

"There, I see a building ahead!" Par suggested.

"I bet it's filled with sausages," Richard pointed out.

"It says it's a bar... we can take cover and regroup there," Par pointed out.

"But I don't like sausages," Richard said.

"Well, do you like BEARS!?" Par asked

"No, I don't like those either!" Richard said.


"We aren't arguing, this is how we communicate. Are you a confooderate?" Richard asked.

"Or perhaps he's wondering why you would ally yourselves with each other during a bear chase... before bickering like children!" Bill shouted. Par and Richard shot unseen glares at him. "Nonetheless... to the bar we go!"

The hour was 9:21 PM. The sun had subsided, and the sky was now cloudy. Bill pulled into a parking space at the front of what appeared to be a bar and restaurant. Many other cars were in the parking lot. The place was doing good business. Bright lights flickered inside while the radio played music through an outside speaker. There were no other buildings in sight, and the area was surrounded completely by trees. A restaurant in the woods on a mountain - clearly, this attracted a strange crowd, as a Jeep parked next to the group's Ford Escape contained two people... confoodling.

The group breathed a collective sigh of relief. The bears had ceased their pursuit. 

"Should we go inside?" Walker asked, eyeing anyone who entered or exited the building.

"Yeah," Boogie replied. "I'm hungry! Time to eat." Boogie began making his way out of the car, which took him a moment.

"I too am hungry," Bill announced. "Time to go." He stopped the car and placed the keys in his bra.

All of them were eager to exit the vehicle, if only to breathe some fresh air and avoid Bill's stench. Dent grabbed his detached leg and scooted out of the car, balancing himself on his remaining limb. His women grasped him tightly and helped him walk over to the side of the road, where he grabbed a small stick from the grass. 

"Dent, I have so many better things to use for that!" Walker frowned. "Why don't you ever let me help?"

"It's important to work with what life gives ya, Walka beybey," Dent replied sharply, clearly focused on the task at hand. "Improvisation is a major key to staying kinky." As he said this, he jammed the stick into the severed limb. The end of the wood broke as it struck the bone, and the stick split apart to envelop the bone neatly. Dent set the leg down, and it stood upright as it was balanced on his lost foot. He then lifted his remaining leg above the new construction. Only a small portion of the log was still pointing out, and Dent carefully lowered his leg onto it. After twisting both parts and adjusting the angles a bit, Dent was finally satisfied. He could still use his knee, so walking was still possible.

"Won't he get an infection?" Richard asked. He wasn't sure how the log fit into Dent's remaining leg, or how it stayed together.

"I do not think normal biology applies to this man," Par deduced.

"Mmm. Biology. My second favorite subject!" Dent replied cheerfully, limping across the road with the help of his women. 

"Still no sign of the bears," Richard noticed.

"Do they not go near populated areas?" Par asked, although this question seemed to be asked of himself. "Damn antisocial bears." A light rain storm began.

"We should go in before my hair is ruined," Walker added, doing his march toward the restaurant. The others obliged. 

Chapter 5: The Pub Edit

Par and Richard were the first to enter, going almost unnoticed. Boog followed, then Dent and his women. Someone might have objected if not for the pleasing sight of Dent's women. When Walker walked through the door, he got a few strange looks. It seemed that the customers were accustomed to costumes, though. 

The establishment was more of a bar than a restaurant - the smaller dining area on the left was made up of only about fifteen tables. The center of the pub was the bar itself, a large square of booths with a serving station in the middle, attending all sides. To the right were additional drinking areas, and a few separate rooms that were closed off. 

Finally, Bill entered. Several men from the bar began laughing immediately.

"HAH! Look at 'em!"

"He must be one of those transgenders!"

Bill ignored this.

"Alright, seeing as several of us haven't eaten in nearly twenty-four hours, I suggest we replenish here." Par added. "Let's agree now that nobody in our party shall consume alcohol during this visit."

"Of course." Bill replied.

"I don't drink." Richard added.

"Alcohol actually isn't drunk on Ood," Walker said. "It's only used as an oil to ignite explosives."

"No need for that kank, beybeys." Dent added.

"Huergh. No promises from me! Heh-heyaunk." Boogie slobbered.

"Boogie Baby, behave bibay; remember you're on timeout," Dent replied. "After what happened last time, no drinks for the Baby."

"Dent, I told ya, that was a one-time accident!" Boog rebutted.

"Then why has it happened three times, beybay?" Dent asked. "Nuh-uh-uh. No drinks for Boogie."

"Fuck you, Dent." Boogie replied, grumbling. 

The group made their way through the building, and blood dripped wherever Dent walked. Unfortunately, they found that there weren't any large tables available. Unless they were to squeeze into a tiny booth designed for only two people, which wouldn't even be big enough for Boogie alone, they would have to sit at the bar... and so they did. They were seated in tall metal stools with cushioned pads on top. They screeched when moved across the floor and clanked when sat in.

Bill was on the far corner, followed by Richard, Dent and his women, Walker, Boog, and then Par, who was forced to sit next to other customers. Dent's women elected to sit in his lap. Boogie was putting quite a strain on his stool, and it looked like it might bust and collapse at any moment.

A bartender/waiter quickly arrived. "How are you guys doing tonight!?" he spoke in an overly-enthusiastic voice. 

"I'm on your schedule." Bill replied.

"Wonderful, but might I point out that you have a bear problem?" Richard complained.

"Haha! Well, maybe so, but we sure don't have a BEER problem!" The man impressively found a way back to the topic at hand. "What can I get you guys to DRINK?"

All of them ordered soda, except for Richard, who got water instead. Bill had a Dr. Pepper, Dent and his women got cream sodas, Walker had a root beer, Boogie got a Sprite, and Par, after realizing that the pub didn't offer Hawaiian Punch,  ordered an orange soda.

"Do you guys have animal control here or something?" Par inquired. 

"Nope!" The man replied. "We're pretty far off the beaten path here, man. Hunters keep the animals thinned out, though. Why?"

"Dumbass." Bill spoke up. The bartender pretended not to hear this.

"So, will you guys be eating anything tonight?" he asked.

"STEAKS!" Bill demanded, slamming his fists onto the counter. 

"A-verah well, how would you like your steak cooked?" The man asked.

"Medium rare." Bill explained. Boogie ordered a 5-course platter, but all five items were fried: Fried chicken, fried shrimp and chicken fried steak, with fried okra and french fries.

Dent only ordered dessert. He got a piece of cake, while his women got ice cream. They shared. The others ordered simpler dinners. As they waited, Boogie randomly started making noises.

"Ahhhh, that was so good." Boog said. They all looked at him and found him listening to earbuds, which were attached via a cord to a smartphone in his pocket. "MMMMRGH!"

"Wot." Par gave his input. 

"That was GREAT. I'm gonna have awesome dreams about that tonight." Boogie added.

"Oh dear." Richard commented.

"IT'S THE GAME OF THRONES THEME!!!" Boogie screamed at a high volume. This disturbed several others nearby. He began humming the theme in an ear-piercing tone, but then switched off into some unknown, horrible song of his own invention. This caught the attention of several customers nearby.

"I may have liked that show if you didn't do that." Bill added. 

"This is just kank." Dent admitted. "And it's all because of that facky Jim Logan. I'm gonna find that baybitchbay and make him PAY!"

"Well, it's a good thing I put a tracker on Keira, then." Par admitted casually.

"Saywhat, baybay?" Dent was interested.

"Where did you put it?" Richard asked.

"Somewhere she'll be unlikely to check." Par replied.

"We'll need to make use of that, beyboy." Dent added. With that, their meals arrived. Boogie instantly dove into his plate, while Bill stared at his steak. It was blackened beyond damnation. There was no pink, and barely even any gray in the middle. Just black. "And what... what is this shit?" Bill asked, cutting into the meat and inspecting it. It was so tough that the knife could barely pierce it.

"Mmmmrgh." Boogie gobbled. He didn't even bother to remove his earphones, as he crammed fries and pieces of chicken into his mouth simultaneously. His chicken fried steak was as greasy as he was, but he cut into it and instantly devoured a piece.

"How's your steak?" Bill asked casually.

"Mm. Good." Boogie replied.

"Fucking shit!!" Bill exclaimed. 

Suddenly, a door to one of the separate rooms sprang open. A limping woman in a revealing outfit stumbled out of it, as if she were shoved out. Her hair was messed up, her clothes were torn, she was bleeding from several places, and, to top it off, she was crying.

Behind her emerged a massive human whose height towered over everyone else in the building and whose size rivaled Boog. He was fat, but not like Boog, for he was also quite muscular, to the point of being considered "buff." His arms were like fit sausages and his legs were like small punching bags. He wore only an old, dirty, leather vest over his upper body, with very baggy pants, molded-out shoes, and an over-stretched belt, which hoisted a large knife. He had shaggy hair that bushed out from his black bandana, and there were several stains on his pants near the crotch area.  He was greasier than the steaks being served, his armpits were unshaven, the pimples on his neck implied he wasn't a frequent washer, and his teeth were yellow. It was easy to detect the man's name, as he had a tattoo on his bubbly stomach that read "CRAIG" and had skulls and nude women surrounding it.

"That's right, slut! Shoo off. I thought you get what you pay for at these places! Guess I was wrong about you." The Craig shouted, also emerging from the room. "Now you know not to displease the BOSS." He grabbed a plastic cup of soda and threw it at the woman, splashing it all over her. No one interfered. She whimpered and retreated to a small booth. 

"Na-na-na-na-nao, baybay." Dent couldn't sit idle. "Walka, a blanket." Walker quickly procured a large pink blanket from his orange man purse. Dent took it and separated himself from his women --this was the first time the group had seen him do this-- and wobbled over to the woman. "You mind if I sit here, baybeeh?" Dent asked soothingly. He made sure to move slowly and speak in a soft voice, as if he were approaching a wild animal.

"I guess...?" The woman stuttered. She had dark black hair, darker skin, and what looked like a Native American symbol as a tattoo on her neck. She was shaking, her arms were huddled together, her eyes were widened, and she was looking down at the table, only glancing her eyes upward momentarily to scan Dent, who sat down and handed her the blanket. She quickly wrapped it around herself. "...thanks."

"Mah pleasure, bibeh." Dent replied. "What's yer name, beybey?"

"...Alice." she stated.

"Mmmm, what a nice name." Dent grinned. "Is there anything you need? Maybe some food or water, baybay?"

Alice didn't seem to know how to answer that question. She looked up at Dent briefly. "I-I, uh... I think I'm okay." 

"Just let me know if ya change yer mind." Dent added.

Craig stomped through the building. "Alright. I guess it's time for round two." He declared, making a hand gesture to some other ladies in the shadier section. Two immediately removed their shirts, smiled, giggled, and headed over to him. He cackled, slobbered, grabbed them by their rear ends, and then escorted them to the bar. They sat right next to Bill. The women sat on Craig's lap, and their combined weight crunched the stool. "Huh. Thought you were a chick, dude." Craig addressed Bill. "I usually only sit next to women."

Bill smacked his lips in response. He was too frustrated with his steak. He kept trying desperately to find a part of it that was edible. Par glared narrowly at Craig.

Around this time, Richard noticed that a large party had left the restaurant, leaving a circular booth with a large table unoccupied. There were still plates and trash on it, but the customers had left.

"Excuse me?" Richard caught the attention of the bartender. "Could we move to that table over there?" The bartender had to look for a moment to find the table.

"Uh, oh, I'm afraid not." The waiter replied. "That table hasn't been cleaned yet. Somebody will be by to clear it off in a little while. Sorry." 

"You." Bill addressed the man. "Why is my steak an overcooked piece of SHIT?" 

"Whaaaat?" The waiter was shocked. 

"Look at this!" Bill squawked. 

"Oh, man, I don't know what you're talking about." The waiter replied. "That steak looks normal to me!"

"Are you kidding me!?" Bill stood up. "I want another one."

"Okay, but we'll have to charge you for the additional steak." The bartender replied.

"So be it." Bill added.

"Bill, I'm not paying for you to eat a second steak." Par added.

"Boogie ordered five things and you're paying for him!" Bill protested.

"Boogie offered to pay for his own meal." Par muttered.

"Huergh. I may have lied." Boogie said in between bites. "I don't have no money! Herh."

"Damn wanker." Par replied. "If you lie to me again, I'll have to take a fishing hook to your genitals."

"Don't worry, I have plenty of every type of currency in my bag." Walker added. "But I'm not paying for either of you. My stash is reserved for emergencies only."

"Fine. I want to speak to the manager!" Bill squawked.

"We don't have one." The bartender replied.

"I want to speak to the cook, then."  Bill declared.

"Uh, well, I think he's in the back." The waiter pointed to the shady part of the building where all the additional rooms were.

"Time to go mobile." Bill scooted away from his chair and headed for the back section.

Craig ordered a beer, then moved one of his women into Bill's stool.

Walker, under his breath, muttered "Go eh-way..."

"I'm afraid there's someone sitting there." Richard added with a glance.

"There sure is." Craig slurped loudly as the woman laughed hysterically. Richard groaned. "You know, I noticed you asked to sit at a different table. We don't do things that way around here." 

"It's a good thing I'm not from here." Richard remarked.

Craig slammed his hand onto the table. "Well, you're here now, ain't ya? Is there something wrong with sittin' next to a woman? What, you don't like her?"

Richard froze for a moment. "My father said not to tell lies. My mother said to be nice to people. You can see my dilemma."

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Craig blurted. "Ahhhhh, you're a queer! That's it... What'cha drinkin?" He grabbed Richard's glass of water. "WATER!? This queer's drinkin' water, guys!" Several other men in the background started laughing.

"You'd be glad he's drinking water." Par muttered.

"What'd you say?" Craig asked. "Huh. He sounds British. They've got lots of queers over there, y'know. I bet you two are partners! That's it. Who finishes first usually?"

Aside, Dent continued talking to Alice.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" Alice asked.

"Because I'm the Kinkmeister!" Dent explained. "That's the primary purpose of the Kink, bebeh."

"I've never heard of a... Kink-meister before." Alice replied. 

"Ya have now!" Dent said happily. "It brings a tear to my eye to see such a nice bibeh being mistreated by a kank like Craig over there. What happened?"

"He wasn't happy with... how I was... performing." Alice admitted. "I'm new here! I didn't know that was what he wanted. I didn't expect..." she started falling apart again. 

"It's all good, baybay, all good. Just take a deep breath." Dent tried to calm her down. "Look. Your hair's all messed up. Lemme help with that." He grabbed a pink comb from his back pocket and, with Alice's permission, began running it through her hair slowly. She stopped crying, wiped her nose, and started relaxing.

"T-thanks." She mumbled as Dent continued combing.

Meanwhile, Bill searched the right side of the building. There were booths back there, and lots of interesting folks were hidden in the dark corners. Several women wearing nearly nothing were roaming the area. Bill found himself bombarded by the aroma of cigarettes, sweat, alcohol, and marijuana. Somehow, he used this to narrow down which room the cook was in. He passed by several closed doors until he focused in on one. Before he could enter, a woman grabbed his arm and kissed his neck. She was short, pale, and had dark hair and way too much makeup.

"You doin' okay there, bud?" She asked. "I can make it all better."

"How could you make it better?" Bill asked, confused.

The woman giggled. "Hahaha, well, I bet you can think of a few ways."

"None." Bill replied sternly, looking her over. Sure, she was a fine-looking person, but Bill's focus was elsewhere. He turned away from her and started to move his arm up to knock on the door. The woman persisted, placing her hand on his chest and cupping the bra from Dent's woman. She seemed a bit caught off guard by this, but she moved in closer to Bill and pressed herself against him.

"Come on. There's nothing you want in there." She continued. Bill looked down at her unhappily.

"What is your name?" Bill asked.

"Well, they call me pussycat." She winked. Bill looked at her for a moment. 

"I love pussies! I have five of them." Bill bragged. The woman didn't know how to react to this, but she laughed it off. 

"Let's go outside. Too many people in here." Pussycat suggested. Bill groaned.

Meanwhile, Craig had consumed two drinks at the bar. His women continued to kiss him on command, despite the alcohol dripping from his mouth.

"Mm! Do that some more. I can tell the queer over here just hates it." Craig cackled. Richard didn't respond.

"This wanker better move before I move him myself." Par muttered, unheard by anyone but Richard, who called the waiter over. 

"Get me a Dr. Pepper." Richard declared.

"Uh, Richard." Par took notice. His eyes were straight-shot at Richard. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Yep." Richard said, nodding at the bartender, who brought over a bottle of Dr. Pepper. Par was about to speak again, but Richard instantly began gulping down the pop drink.

"Not helping." Par muttered.

"Oh, it sure is." Richard replied.

Suddenly, Craig stood up. He scanned the area, noticing that Dent's women were sitting by themselves now. 

"Well well well..." he grumbled. "Looks like we just upgraded our party size!" He approached them. "You two are new around here."

"Please go away." One of them said. This was the first time the others had heard one of Dent's women speak.

"He's not kinky..." the other whispered in her ear. 

"Hoho, I'm just bein' friendly!" Craig insisted, smacking his belly lightly. "See these two chicks? They're A and O. O, tell these fine ladies how much you enjoy our time together."

Walker instantly stood up and approached Craig. "They're not interested, you whore." He spoke sternly.

"Whoah! Is there a circus going on? What's up with the carnie? HAHAHAHA!" Craig blurted.

"Ood doesn't have people like you. I seriously think that a large portion of human beings are psychologically deformed. You fall into that category, sir." Walker added. "So, my point is, please stay away from the Kinkmeister's plus-two's." He pulled an orange from his bag and held it up firmly.

"HAHAHA! Look at THAT! He's got some fruit!" Craig laughed forcefully, and his two women did the same. "Wow. Are you guys all some kind of fucked up circlejerk or something? NO straight man dresses like that."

Richard sighed in frustration, and that's when the voices began.

Do it.

Don't do it.

Slit that fucker's throat, right now. 


Come on! It'll be like pouring ketchup over a pile of fries. Except the fries are his prostitutes and the ketchup is, well, you know.

We're in a public place full of people, far from home, and headquarters is already pissed. I can't.

I've seen worse odds. I've BEATEN worse odds. Have you ever let something like that stop you before? Nooope. Fuck. Him. Up.

Craig was still mocking Walker when Richard spoke up.

"For someone who talks about homosexuality so much, you seem awfully desperate to appear... straight. What, is there a lock on that closet somewhere?" Richard asked.

Craig instantly whirled around and stared Richard down. 

"You wanna say that to my face, fuckface?" Craig huffed and puffed. Richard rolled around in his seat.

"I'm sorry, are you talking to one of your sluts?" Richard replied. Craig gripped his knife.

"Babe, it's not worth it." Said one of Craig's women.

"Yeah, let him be, boss." The other added. Craig looked at them both and exhaled.

"You're lucky that A and O are feeling generous tonight, faggot." Craig sat back in the stool. 

Dent was still talking to Alice and combing her hair. This seemed to continually improve her mood.

"You said you were new here. What made ya choose this... profession, beybey?" Dent asked.

"Well, there's not much else to do around here. This is one of the few places you can even get a job. It paid well and it allowed me to avoid driving over an hour everyday to work at the grocery store." Alice explained. "But then you have to deal with... him."

"That baybitchbay said some nasty stuff to ya. Why do you let him talk to you that way?" Dent inquired.

"We don't have much of a choice..." Alice muttered. "He... he owns the place, basically. He decides who we get to sleep with, which is normally just him. He pays well... sometimes."

"But why doesn't anyone put an end to his kank?" Dent asked.

"W-what...?" Alice was hopelessly confused. 

"Why doesn't anyone... erm... stop him?" Dent corrected himself.

"Everyone's too scared of him." Alice frowned.

"Well, he is a large facky." Dent glanced over at Craig. As he was looking over, he noticed Bill heading for the exit with Pussycat. "What about her, bibeh? Is Craig gonna be okay with her leaving with Bheely boy?"

"Oh, her?" Alice looked over. "No, he lets her do what she wants. All of the people she sleeps with get STDs."

"That ain't good, beybeh!" Dent was concerned.

"From what I hear, she gets compensated for it. She plays the victim, you know?" Alice explained. "She's got doctors and lawyers in her pants, basically."

"One moment, bibeh." Dent got up from the booth. He wobbled over to the group, leaving a trail of blood from his leg across the floor. "Baybays!" He whispered. "Bheel is going outside with a kankfacky who's gonna give him an STD. I'm tendin' to anotha mattah at the moment."

Walker was prepared to step forth, but Par got up immediately and said, "Leave it to me." 

Dent casually returned to Alice as Par made his way outside. The rain had increased, and if not for the cover of the restaurant's roof, he would have been soaked. The weather didn't seem to affect him, despite his previous reaction to the sunlight. He found Bill and the woman standing there, her arms wrapped around him. Par listened in:

"So, do you wanna do it in the car? Or we can go in the back if the rain bothers you." Pussycat said.

"Do what?" Bill asked. 

She laughed, "You're funny. Well, is that one yours?" She pointed to the Ford Escape.

Bill hesitated. "...Indeed." He procured the keys from his bra. Pussycat was unsure how to react to this. 

"Oh, just take this."  She procured a needle and a syringe, which contained some type of orange liquid. 

"And what is this?" Bill was hesitant.

"It's just a drug to make the experience even better." She grinned. "It'll make you last longer, and... well, you know."

Bill did not know. She placed it in his hands, and he took it, but he just stared at it blankly.

Par observed the situation:

There's a disease in that drug. Some kind of infection. The prostitute clearly knows what's in it, and Bill is oblivious.

She's confident, unshaken, and in a hurry. She's done this many times.

That means she's getting something out of it. Better sex? Doubtful. It has to be money.

 "You don't want that, Bill." Par said, announcing his presence. Bill dropped the needle.

"She seems nice, but I don't know what she wants from me." Bill added. "Explain."

"Hold on, who are you?" Pussycat addressed Par.

"My name is Parax!" he said cheerfully.

"Uh, weird." Pussycat replied. "Anyway, the fuck are you doing here?"

"There's an STD in that needle. You're going to pull some kind of victim shit in a civil case. Must have connections to keep doing that, but it certainly pays better than your... current employment." Par explained.

"What makes you think any of that is true?" She asked unhappily. Bill stomped on the needle. 

"Seemed pretty obvious to me." Par shrugged.

"Look, Mr. Bill, I don't know who this guy is, but he's obviously just jealous. Don't let him ruin our fun." Pussycat continued.

"She's a dangerous woman, Bill." Par added. "No time to waste on her."

Bill stepped off the building's walkway and into the parking lot, getting drenched by the downpour.

"Dangerous!? Hah!" She quacked. "Do I look dangerous to you, bud?"

"Identify yourself." Bill demanded.

"Like I told ya, they call me Pussycat." She said, but this time she wasn't proud and cheerful. Instead, she was irritated, as if she'd gotten tired of saying this.

"You don't fear recognition. You welcome it." Bill still didn't face her, instead simply staring off across the street. "What is your REAL name?"

She sighed. "If I tell ya, will you forget about this loser so we can have a good time?" She asked. "I'm anxious."

"Perhaps." Bill replied.

"Fine. My name's Kate." She answered. "Ya happy?"

"You lied to me, Kate." Bill stated. "You were using me. Why?"

Kate froze. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just what I do. Your friend is right. I make a lot this way. But I can make a lot other ways too. In fact, I'll give you both a discount if you keep quiet."

"Come here, Kate." Bill demanded. She grinned.

"What, out in the rain? Are you... sure?" Kate studied her options. "Ah, maybe you're into that. Why not?" She stepped off the sidewalk and over to Bill, who cupped his hands on the straps of his bra. He didn't seem to be affected by the rain, even though he was nearly naked.

"Bill, you need to think twice about this." Par eyed the two of them carefully. He wasn't sure how Bill was going to handle this situation. 

Meanwhile, at the bar...

Richard gulped down some more Dr. Pepper and tried to avoid eye contact with Craig, who was now gyrating against both of his escorts. He had downed four bottles of beer, and was already on the next. His breath grew even worse as the night went on.

It had seemed that Boogie was finally through with his meal. Despite his appetite, he still failed to eat the fantastic feast he ordered. He belched loudly.

"Ohmahgawd." Boog burped again. "I wanna eat more. I WANNA EAT MORE!" He painfully forced a fry into his mouth and swallowed. He burped again.

"Boog, I really do fear for your health." Walker added. "With the amount of food you're consuming on a regular basis, you could have heart issues, digestive failure, kidney problems, or just the general side effects of obesity. You need to stop."

"I'll never stop." Boog grumbled, forcing down another piece of food.

Suddenly, Craig finished his fifth beer. Unsatisfied, he reached over and grabbed Richard's bottle of Dr. Pepper, gulping it down loudly. Richard merely looked at the large man before swirling out of his stool. Craig laughed loudly behind Richard as he headed over to the large table with the circular booth, which still had plates, napkins, and food left on it. Richard extended his arm out and slid the contents off of the table, splattering them all over the floor. "There. It's clean. We're moving over here, sausages." 

Walker and Dent's women quickly joined him in the new booth. Boogie was too immobilized to get up.

Meanwhile, Bill and Kate stood in the rain while Par kept nearby.

"In the rain... where I learned the truth about air... as will you." Bill spoke, and thunder clapped loudly in the distance. He was still staring into the darkness, clearly remembering something specific.

"Oh, you definitely have a thing for water." Kate grinned and kissed him on the neck this time.

"There's a reason why my armpit is the worst hell on earth... Hope." Bill finally turned to face Kate, who didn't understand anything he was saying. "Everyone who has been in your situation over the years has looked over to the air freshener..." Bill pulled out an unopened air freshener from... a pocket in his back? Somewhere like that. "and they have imagined... freshening up the smell. So easy... so simple... and, like stranded men bathing in seawater from uncontrollable filth, many have died trying."

"Listen, bud, I dunno what you're t-" Kate was interrupted

"No!" Bill grabbed Kate by the mouth, clenching his fingers around her jaw.  "They expect one of us to finish our sentences! This is not the part where you talk." 

"Bill, what are you doing?" Par looked around, scanning the area. No one was nearby, except for the people who were still confoodling in the Jeep. He also scanned the woods for any more bears. 

"I learned here that there can be no true stench without freshness. So, as I terrorize this restaurant, I will feed its diners freshness to poison their nostrils. I will let them believe that they can breathe freely so that you can watch them clamoring over each other to... stay in the fresh. You can watch me stench an entire building, and when you have truly understood the depth of your failures, we will fulfill Loki of Assgard's destiny. We will destroy that bar, along with Craig. And when it is done... when their nostrils are... burned... then you have my permission to breathe."

Kate was terrified now, so Bill let go of her jaw. 

"Bill, this is a public place." Par reminded him. "Don't hurt anyone."

"Or, Pussycat, you can take this air freshener." Bill handed her the air freshener, and she grabbed it reluctantly. "It is yours! Do as you please, none will interfere! But start by freshening ME, and freeing yourself! Do you understand?" 

"I think so?"

"Then tell me: Stench... or Freshness?" Bill 

"Uh... freshness...?" Kate shrugged.

"As I thought." Bill muttered with disappointment in his tone and sighed. Suddenly, he lunged forward and grabbed Kate, forcing her face into his armpit. Par tried to break it up, but there was no stopping the almighty stinker.

"GET AWAY! HELP!" Kate screamed, kicking and flailing her arms in all directions. She tried to free herself, but to no avail. She started choking and gasping for air as the odor of Bill's pit suffocated her. After more resistance, her limbs fell lifeless. Still, Bill kept her in that position for a moment, to be certain he'd finished his task.

"I am necessary stench!" Bill declared.

"Dammit, Bill." Par was quite concerned now. "How the fuck is your armpit that deadly?"

"There's a reason my armpit-" Bill was interrupted

"Yes, yes, the worst hell on earth," Par rolled his eyes. "Now, unlock the Car. We'll stick her in the back."

"Kate the Pussycat was a symbol of seduction." Bill began ranting again, grabbing the keys from his bra and using the clicker to unlock the Ford's back door.

"Shut up and give me a hand, Bill." Par requested, grabbing Kate's legs. Bill obliged, grabbing her entire body and effortlessly lifting it. He carried her to the car and shoved her in.

"Huh." Par smirked.

"I expected you to be more shaken by that." Bill admitted.

"Physical violence is usually not the best option." Par replied. "In her case, I'll make an exception. But if someone saw that, we'll be in for a load of shit."

"Then I will stench them too." Bill declared. 

"What's got your panties in a bunch?" Par observed Bill. "...quite literally.

"I'm away from home for no reason, I miss my pussies, this restaurant's steak is a piece of shit, that bitch pretended to like me, and I have to spend this whole time listening to you fools yap all day." Bill explained. "And you ask me why I am unhappy?"

"Regardless, we need to go back inside before someone pays too much attention." Par suggested, and he and Bill headed back into the building. A woman observed Par and Bill very closely. She was one of the "women of the night," but she suddenly put a coat on. The two of them located the group's new table. They were both soaking wet, especially Bill, whose hairy body was now covered in water. He squished and splashed with every step, and created a giant puddle when he sat in the booth.

"You remind me of swimming." Richard noticed. "I hated swimming."

"You will find your place in the sea." Bill assured him.

"At least you got away from Craig." Par remarked. 

"That sausage was about to set me off." Richard added.

The women watching Par and Bill grabbed a lighter and walked to the exit. "Gotta take a smoke break, y'all." She spoke with a high-pitched, hoarse, southern voice. Par watched her intently.

Unhappy with his steak, Bill ordered squid.

Suddenly, there was a disturbance. One of Dent's women spilled a drink all over the Spiderman costume, causing Bill to panic. He quickly reached over to her, grabbed a CD from a "secret pocket" in the costume, and then dashed for the exit.

"Fookin' hell." Par remarked, standing up and following him. "Guess I'm on Bill duty."

Par arrived outside to find that the storm had somewhat died down, but the rain continued. He looked around, locating Bill, who was in the driver's seat of the Ford Escape. 

"Bill, what are you doing in there!?" Par approached him.

"Aaaaaaowgh!" was Bill's response, his eyes focused downward and his arms shaking wildly as he worked furiously at something down there. Par grew concerned and looked around, scanning for bears or other people. He walked over to the car to look at what Bill was doing: he was using a rag to polish the CD and remove any stains. Bill looked at him and said, "what?"

"Wanker." Par rolled his eyes and turned back toward the building. He returned to find Dent and Alice joining the group at their new table. She was silent and reserved, unsure what to think of the other group members.

"And now we have another person to haul around." Walker complained.

"Nao, beyboy, relax." Dent replied. "Alice ain't goin' nowhere, unless she wants. For the time bein', she wants to remain in her hometown."

"Not if you keep kinking her up." Walker added. "Dent, we can't fit anyone else into the car!"

"Well, baybay, when we get another Kinkmobile, we'll be able to fit as many baybays in as we want!" Dent replied.

"Look, I really appreciate you, Johnny," Alice referred to Dent, "but I can't leave. I'll definitely leave this line of work, but I can't go on a vacation..." she almost chuckled at her own comment.

Before anything else could be said, the smoking woman arrived at the table. Par already knew what was about to happen. 

"Hi there." She spoke. Her long blonde hair shot up in a ponytail, and her makeup caused her eyes to look almost inhuman.

"Greetings!" Par feigned hospitality.

"Haaaaay, baybay." Dent said.

"Herm, sup." Boogie gobbled.

"Hi." Richard added.

"What's yer name, baybeeeh?" Dent inquired.

"Name's Bristol." She answered. Dent said nothing.

"Alright, spit it out." Par grew impatient.

"Look..." she began, "I know what you guys did. I saw your... friend... in the back seat. I'm gonna tell everyone about it... unless you all pay me for a night of... fun." she suggested.

"Wait, so..." Boogie tried to piece this together. "I'm gettin' blackmailed for something that I don't even know about, and the payment is that I have to fuck you and use Walker's emergency money to do it? Huergh... that sounds GREAT! Herh-HEYAUNK."

"Look, I'm not fucking anybody." Bristol replied. "I knew Kate very well, and I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. I've been waiting for it."

"Bristol, what's going on?" Alice inquired.

"The fuckers killed Kate." Bristol said in a low voice.

"What!?" Alice reacted. "Dent! That's not what I was suggesting! I..." she was without words.

"Baybay, that's not what I wanted either!" Dent raised his voice. "I didn't know nothin' about it! Par and Bheel were the ones who dealt with that kank."

"Bill sort of took matters into his own hands..." Par added. "To be fair, that woman deserved her punishment. Still, this situation is what I wanted to avoid."

"Look, I don't care." Bristol continued. "You know what? Actually, I'll fuck one of you. Has to be a male though. I could use it right now."

"You're sick." Alice commented. 

"Shut up, bitch." Bristol replied. "You just started working here. Time for you to take a lesson and see how the real world works. So, any takers?"

At this point, Richard, who had mostly kept quiet during all of this, decided to give his input.

"You're a whore." He stated.

"I second that." Walker grinned at Richard's word choice.

"Wow! Okay, rude." Bristol replied. "Alright, you're disqualified, bro."

"You're a desperate whore trying to control your little vagina." Richard continued. "And I try to show you people how pathetic your attempts to control things really are. So, if I tell you that there's no possible outcome here where we give into your demands... you'' know that I'm telling the truth."

"...what?" Bristol squinted her eyes.

"Just go eh-way." Walker gave his input. "I'm sick and tired of all the whores in this place."

"What my colleague is trying to suggest is that we have ways of making people like you... go away." Par added. "Nothing immoral, of course. It's just that... we deal with people like you on a regular basis. For instance, with Miss Kate's track record, I'm fairly certain that we can narrow down many illegal activities in this place and quickly make all of you lose your jobs. And who wants to advocate for a woman who injects people with STDs?"

"Okay, fine. If you wanna play it that way, then we will. We'll see who has sympathy for a woman who was likely raped and murdered, and who has sympathy for a party of lunatics who did the deed." Bristol stormed off, lighting a cigarette immediately. Tired of the rain, she started smoking in the building. As if that weren't enough, Craig arrived immediately after.

"Well, haha, I didn't wanna interrupt the girl." Craig spoke, inhaling deeply and trying to push his chest out as much as possible. "But we've got a serious problem here. I'm only gonna ask this question once." He bent downward, resting his fists on their table. "What the fuck are you doing with my Alice, King-master?"

"Yours? Fuck off, slug." Alice protested.

"What did you just call me, baybitchbay!?" Dent grew unhappy. Around this time, Bill returned to the restaurant and observed Craig at the table. He smacked his lips and approached slowly.

"Well, just what your circus friend here called you earlier when I, uh... greeted your escorts, there. I'm definitely going to take those two off your hands, by the way." Craig replied.

"I'm the Kinkmeister, bitch, and you won't touch my baybays, OR Alice, who happens to be ten thousand times, SQUARED, kinkier than you." Dent stood up and looked Craig in the eyes. Walker stood as well.

"Eyes off the Kinkmeister, whore." 

At this point, the conflict was attracting attention. Almost everyone in the building was looking over at the group's table, and several customers were either moving to a distance or fleeing the vicinity.

"Hahahahahahahaha..." Craig cracked himself up. "Look at y'all, thinkin' you're somethin'. You want me to spill your blood all over this booth, or maybe I'll take you outside and do one at a time. Alice, you're not gettin' off easy, either. I'll consider you a traitor. Not a good way to start off your new job. I'll have to give you a nice punishment for talkin' to these queers.

"You'll do no such thing, baybitchbay." Dent added.

"Desperate times, Dent?" Walker grew anxious, but before Dent could respond, Bill arrived.

"So." Bill announced his presence and poked Craig in the back. The giant man turned around to face him. Bill was the tallest of the group, so he was the closest to eye-level with Craig. "You came back to die with your Pussy."

"What the fuck!?" Craig asked.

"Let's not stand on ceremony here, Mr. Dumbass." Bill addressed him, getting a good whiff of the odor from his breath. "You don't fear stench. You welcome it. Your punishment must be more severe."

"Are you trying to threaten me, faggot?" Craig was huffing and puffing now.

"YES, dumbass!" Bill shouted. Craig immediately shoved him back. 

"Well fuck off, it ain't your turn yet." Craig spat on the ground. Bill quickly stepped forth to shove Craig back in response. He was caught off guard by Bill's strength.

"You wanna touch me again, fuckface!?" Craig pulled out his large knife and pointed it directly at Bill.

"Alright, that's enough." Richard decided.

"Richard, wait." Par protested, but it was too late. Richard got up from the table and faced Craig from behind. 

"Oi, sausage!" Richard caught his attention, then he proceeded to fling his right arm downwards, revealing a small hidden pistol, which fell smoothly into his hand. He pointed it directly at Craig, and everyone in the room began to gasp, panic, and shout. Par immediately turned his head in various directions to scan the situation.  "Put the knife down."

"HohoHO, the queer's got a gun!" Craig shouted, still holding the knife to Bill. "I'm surprised!"

"I said put the knife down, or I'll shoot ya in the fuckin' head." Richard threatened. 

"I don't buy that shit." Craig replied. "You don't look like a guy who would pull the trigger." With that, he gave Richard enough time to close one eye, aim the pistol, and fire at the knife, knocking it aside. Craig threw his arms up in surrender.

"I really don't, but, you know what they say. Looks can be deceiving." Richard grinned and took on a raspy, strange voice that was unlike his usual one. He seemed to be enjoying every second of it. 

"Richard, remain calm." Par instructed. Everyone in the building was panicking, and some were trying to leave.

"Nobody move! We're not done here yet. And somebody get me a damn Dr. Pepper or I'll shoot Craig in the face!" Richard demanded. "Oh wait, that's not very good incentive... hmm... get me  a Dr. Pepper, or I'll shoot BRISTOL in the face! There we go."

"Fucker!" Bristol reacted.

"Come on, now, we don't have all day." Richard ranted as he maintained eye contact with Craig, pointing the gun straight at him. He had the power now.

Walker, who was nearby, couldn't find a Dr. Pepper, but he wanted this violence to end, so he grabbed the nearest soda and hoped for the best.

"Uh... Pepsi okay?" Walker asked. Richard hesitated.

"Fine, I'll settle for his relatives." Richard said, reluctantly taking the bottle and gulping it down, still pointing the gun and looking at Craig the whole time.  "You know, I barely know these people. Normally, I wouldn't even bother. But I'm exhaustedly tired of the abuse that's been put upon my ears by every sound made by your fat, nasty, greasy lips that, if you were more developed in the art of flexibility, would be wrapped around your own cock twice a day!"

Before anything else could happen, a major eruption occurred. The pub's doors opened, and in came Jim Logan, Keira, and several of Jim's gang members. Jim himself wore a white jacket, a white shirt, a white tie, a white belt, a pair of white pants, and white shoes. He also wore a pair of dark sunglasses, even though he was indoors, and it was also night time. He had pale skin and short, frizzy brown hair. 

Immediately, Dent reacted, shouting in a terrible blaze of anger. His women shouted and screamed to add to the chorus. "YOU BAYBITCHBAAAY! YOU STOLE MY KINKMOBILE!!"

Jim's face went to horror as he looked over and saw Dent in the booth. His mouth gaped open and he froze. Keira's face turned to an angry expression of murder, and she started tugging onto Jim's arm.

This distraction caused enough to confusion to bring everyone's attention away from the matter at hand. Due to this, Craig took his chance and lunged forward, swatting Richard's gun out of his hand and shoving him down onto the group's table. Craig grasped Richard's neck in a chokehold and used his free hand to punch him in the face.

"I've gotcha now, motherfucker." Craig grinned as he continued his attack. Par was about to swing into action, but Richard suddenly grabbed a fork from a dinner plate. He was losing concentration due to the pain, but he painfully reached his arm under an impaled the fork into Craig's nipple. "AOUGH! What the FUCK!?" With that, Richard grabbed the plate of Bill's squid and smashed it into Craig's face, sending him flying back in pain. Richard lied back on the table, his face bleeding in several spots. 

"BORROWED! And, I mean, you did let me use it..." Jim responded to Dent. 

"JIM, I said GO." Keira said, still tugging.

"Ahhh." Richard groaned. "Flip the table, please." He said, bracing himself. Par obliged, and Dent, who was eager to get out of the booth, also assisted, lifting the table up in a burst of energy, sending Richard flying toward Craig. "WOOHAHAHA!" Richard jumped on top of Craig, who started wobbling and rotating in all directions. Par used this moment to walk away from the booth, observing the situation. Everyone was watching.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME, QUEER!" Craig groaned angrily as Richard procured the fork from his nipple, sending blood spilling out of it. He started repeatedly jabbing the fork into one of Craig's ear. Craig had had enough, so he grabbed Richard and flipped him over, slamming him onto the ground. "You can't hurt me, faggot!" At this point, Jim and his gang left the building. Dent, his women, Alice, Boog, and Walker began navigating through the crowd.

"Hahahahaha." Richard laughed weakly. "Did you really think I'd risk losing this battle... in a bar fight with you? No..." 

"What do you mean, fuckface!?" Craig grabbed him by the shirt collar and delivered another blow. Seeing what was happening, Par snuck around the room. He looked in various directions, visibly frustrated with his options. Suddenly, he looked down at a table with several unemptied beer bottles on it. He tipped them all over. Then he grabbed another one and poured it onto the pile. Suddenly, he reached over and grabbed Bristol's cigarette from her mouth, tossing it onto the table, which lit up in flames immediately. 

"Oh, look. Fire!" Par shouted. "FIRE!" With that, the restaurant went absolutely berserk. People were running in all directions, everyone was screaming, and a line of people formed to run out of the building.

Craig didn't notice the fire, being too occupied with Richard. However, Bill, who might not have been tall enough to stick Craig in his armpit, improvised, dipping his hands into his armpits and then jumping up onto Craig's back, cupping his face with his palms. 

"AARGH!" Craig shouted in agony. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!? THAT'S HORRIBLE!" He swung around in all directions, trying to get Bill off of him. Finally, he twirled around and tossed Bill aside, slamming him into a Korean man who was trying to escape. 

Par approached Craig and smashed the bottle into his elbow, breaking it into several pieces. The remaining part was now a sharp weapon, which he stabbed into Craig's lower leg. An unearthly roar escaped from Craig's vocal chords, and he bent down slightly in pain, his face turning red-hot.

Craig swung his arm around in an attempt to smash Par's face in with his massive arm, but the Brit simply swerved out of the way. Craig readjusted himself and went for another punch, but Par ducked. He tried to simply grab Par, but, again, he found that his opponent avoided his efforts, backing up and away from him. The angry bar-lurker continued his assault, swinging repeatedly and attempting several blows, but Par continued to duck out of the way, dodge fists narrowly, and evade the long limbs of Craig. Whenever Craig would move forward, Par would back up. Finally, Craig grew angrier and picked up his pace, huffing and puffing some more to increase his adrenaline rush. 

"AAAARGH!" Craig unleashed a massive burst of noise as he activated his rage mode, swinging wildly and stomping forward, despite his injury. Bill had recovered, and he charged at Craig, but he simply turned around and punched Bill in the face, sending him back to the ground. Craig then diverted his attention back to Par, who couldn't just back up anymore. He grabbed a wooden chair and shielded himself with it - Craig's fist smashed right into its center, breaking it into several pieces. This also sent a lot of broken wood into Craig's hand, causing several splinters. He fell back slightly, wincing. Par used this to his advantage, grabbing one of the broken legs of the chair and sending it directly into Craig's groin. 

"Huh, look at that. Knock on wood." Par smirked as Craig screamed. Meanwhile, the pub was still in panic, as everyone struggled to flood out of the building. Even Boogie was making his way to the exit. Walker was hesitant, but Dent was racing out to locate Jim. Par took the chance to swing the leg chair into Craig's face, but the big hunk of a man had other plans - he caught the wooden plank and gripped it firmly, his eyes growing in intensity as he stared straight at Par, whose facial expression could be summed up with the words "oh, shit."

Craig smashed the leg chair aside and shoved Par back. He then stood back up and stomped forward further. Par tried another chair, but Craig simply grabbed it and threw it away, crashing into one of his women from earlier. Craig advanced, and Par had nowhere to go, as he was backing into the crowd of people fleeing. But this was precisely what Par wanted, as Craig suddenly stomped one foot forward to find that his footing was failing. He had stepped into a large puddle of blood left by Dent.

Dealing with this unexpected hindrance combined with the serious injury he'd sustained earlier, Craig lost control and fell forward; Par swerved out of the line of fire and swirled behind Craig, giving him a good two-handed shove to send him further into the incoming traffic. 

Craig was trampled, being knocked to the floor almost immediately as he impacted with the heavy flow of the stampede. Craig let out several unnatural, painful noises as the fleeing customers and employees neglected to avoid the large roadblock, instead choosing to bump into him with their legs, kick him with their feet, and bump into him anytime he tried to stand up. Dent and his women intentionally stepped on him as much as possible, and his day wasn't getting much better when Boog came galloping through the hallway, smashing into Craig and putting all of his weight into a big stomp. 

Finally, the gargantuan, regurgitated pub-dweller found a gap in the line of people, and he slowly came to his feet. Unfortunately, the Korean man was desperately running for safety, and he bumped into Craig, knocking him aside. Enraged, Craig reached forward and grabbed the Asian man's foot, sending him to the ground. He then got up and grabbed the man by the shirt collar. 

"YOU THINK YOU CAN PUSH ME!?" Craig shouted before delivering a terrifying right cross directly into the Korean man's face. Blood instantly splattered everywhere. He then kicked the man for good measure. Another person was near him, so he grabbed them as well and continued his beating.

Around this time, Richard had recovered and caught up to Par. They both observed the situation worriedly.

"He's attacking civilians." Richard remarked.

"Not part of the plan." Par said. Suddenly, they both took off in opposite directions; Par ran toward the fight, and Richard ran back to their table. Craig was smashing his fists into anyone nearby, until Bristol appeared in front of him.

"HEY! It's me!" Bristol protested. Craig spared her. She tried to convince him to vacate the building when Par grabbed a broom and lowered it into the fire, which was spreading to other tables now. He lunged forward with the burning weapon, but Craig was done playing around. He simply grasped the burning wood with his hand, shouting painfully and breaking it into pieces. However, he panicked when he looked ahead. Richard had grabbed his pistol again.

Unable to move swiftly, Craig grabbed the nearest person, Bristol, and threw her in front of him. With that, she took a bullet in the chest. 

"Huh, thanks." Richard shrugged as he fired again, plugging another shot into Bristol. He kept firing until Craig threw her aside and dashed for the exit - this did nothing, as a bullet blasted straight into his head. More people screamed. "Always over-complicating things, Par. Sometimes you just have to shoot 'em in the face."

"Apparently I underestimated the selfishness of that man." Par admitted. "But now there's no foreseeable way to salvage this situation." 

As if on cue, Walker approached the scene with a fire extinguisher and promptly put the flames to rest. 

"Where'd you get that?" Richard asked.

"From my bag, of course!" Walker added. "I figured you guys were using this fire as a distraction, but... it was getting out of hand. And Craig's dead!"

"Indeed, Craig is dead." Richard said pridefully. "Help that slut and that Asian, and let's get out of here." 

Bill, who had spent his time fashioning one half of his bra into a mask that covered his bleeding mouth and nsose, grabbed the injured woman and the Asian man and carried them outside. 

"You didn't have to shoot Bristol that many times." Walker said, troubled.

"Well, I was aiming for him." Richard remarked. With that, they exited the building to find Dent and Boog already loaded into the car. 

"GET OVER HERE, BEYBOYS!" Dent demanded. "Walka, I'm gonna needja to drive, behbeh." 

"Okie." Walker obliged, hopping into the driver's seat. The others quickly took their seats, and Walker pulled them out of the parking lot. "Where to?"

"Par baybay, I'm gonna needja to use that tracker." Dent ordered.

"There's no time for that, Dent." Par replied. "We need to get out of here before the authorities arrive."

"Dent's not very good at avoiding the authorities." Walker commented.

"No mattah, beybeys, no mattah. We'll be chasin' those kankwagons whether you help me or not, baybay." Dent added. "Now, which waaay?"

Par sighed, pulling out a device from his coat pocket. He looked at it for a moment. "Take a right." 

"MMMMMM. Walka, take a right." Dent added, and they took a right, setting off on their course.  "SPEED UP, BAYBAY! FOR THE KINKMOBIIILE!!"

Chapter 6: Long Live the Kink Edit


The hour was 11:57 PM. The gang was in pursuit of Jim Logan and the stolen Kinkmobile, and Walker was driving speedily through the mountains. Tight turns, crazy curves, and rough roads made up the terrain.

"Do you have to drive so fast?" Richard asked.

"If we don't go fast, we'll never catch them!" Walker replied in a constipated voice, focusing on the drive.

"AHHHHHH!" Boogie screamed randomly. "THERE'S A DEAD BODY IN HERE!"

"Do not mind that," Par replied.

"Play this," Bill demanded, handing the disk he was polishing earlier to Richard, who was in the passenger's seat.


"Play it!" Bill pleaded.

"What is it?" Richard asked.

"It's my collection of anime songs with some other stuff added in!" Bill said with what looked like a happy expression, though it was hard to see over his bra mask.


"PLAY THE MUSIC!" Bill ordered.

"WHOOHAHAHAHAHA!" Richard suddenly broke into laughter. "You have... nothing to threaten me with. Nothing to do... with all your stench."

"Play it, or you all get to hear my lovely lovely voice... and I'll do the WHOLE THING," Bill threatened.

"FINE, FINE, I'LL PLAY IT YOU SAUSAGE!" Richard said, inserting the C.D. Instantly, the group cried out in horror as Bill's dreaded music played. High-pitched Asian women were singing in Japanese, and the tune was a diabolical mixture of major chords and high-octave church organs. Walker's driving became unstable as this happened, prompting him to grab the disk and throw it out the window.

"You BITCH!" Bill squawked, his high-pitched voice squeaking again. Walker ignored him, narrowly dodging a sharp corner.

"You sure Jim went this way biobay?" Dent asked.

"Certain," Par responded. "They have stopped somewhere nearby."

"Dent, what exactly is the plan once we find them?" Walker asked.

"I dunno, bibeh..." Dent thought for a moment. "First things first, we get the Kinkmobile back. Then I'll make sure Jim knows not to pull this shit ever again. He's not getting any more calculus."

The road took them to the edge of the mountain, with only a section of railing between the vehicle and the cliff.

"Turn up here..." Par said, looking down at the tracker in his hand. Walker, to his surprise, saw a turn to the right up ahead. There was a small extension of the cliff that served as a tourists' spot with a couple of signs, a little table, and a map. There was also a small balcony overlooking the cliff, perfect for watching the sunset or taking pictures. Walker turned, assuming Jim Logan would be hiding behind some of the trees in the area. "Wait..." Par said, hesitating... "You should have turned left..." Par then realized what was about to happen; as Walker turned right, he saw a pair of green lights emerge from the darkness in the rear-view mirror.


Suddenly, the Kinkmobile rammed into the rear end of their vehicle. The group panicked as the Ford Escape was forcefully shoved toward the cliff. Walker tried slamming the brakes, putting the car in reverse, and even making a turn, but this did nothing, as the Ford simply wasn't powerful enough to override the Kinkmobile. Jim Logan drove the massive pink van without letting off, but it seemed Keira was sitting in his lap, and she was the one who was truly driving. Dirt and mud flew everywhere.

"Get out, you sausages!" Richard yelled, opening his door and jumping out. Dent's ladies managed to drag him out. Par, Bill, and Walker then exited, and Boogie was the last to evacuate as the Kinkmobile drove the small Ford off of the cliff. As this happened, everyone jumped out of the back of the Kinkmobile; Keira hopped out as well, leaving only Jim in the driver's seat.

"Whoa!" Jim shouted, managing to stop the Kinkmobile just before it flew over the edge. It was, however, dangling halfway over, and no matter how hard Jim slammed on the reverse, it wouldn't back up... it was slowly inching forward, about to fall over. He opened his door and jumped out of the car for his life, his small push sending the car further forward shortly before the entire vehicle fell over the edge and crashed 70 feet below. Jim was able to catch onto the ledge of the cliff, but he couldn't manage to pull himself up.


"Bloody wankers..." Par grumbled, standing up from the rolling jump that he took out of the car. He got a look at Jim's elite gang. There were about three of them, and most were dressed like wrestlers, with pornographic pictures falling out of their pockets. Keira and two other men were also present. Meanwhile, the group was still recovering from their near-death experience.

"Albert," Dent addressed one man, who wore a derpy cheap suit and had blonde hair that was longer than most women's. "How could you let this happen? HOW!?"

"Oh gosh, Dent, like, I'm sorry," Albert spoke. "It's just that... none of us were really happy with how you've been leading lately, and, well, like, Jim had better ideas. I hope you understand. It's all for the better of the Kink."

"You. Are not. Kink!" Dent stomped his messed up leg against the ground, and his women bore angry expressions.

"Are these the kind of people you associate with, Dent?" Par asked.

"Only a couple of these are former kinks," Dent explained. "The rest are just Jim's... friends."

The thugs dressed like wrestlers were grouping up and talking among themselves.

The only other man who was not dressed like a wrestler joined in. He wore a dark vest and had lots of missing teeth. "Well, Albert. I think it's time the Kinkmeister got GOT," he spoke in a rough voice.

"Yeah, we follow Jim now," Albert explained.

"It's because of those freaks that we lost our van," Keira added. The wrestlers didn't seem happy about this.

"Now now now, don't have a carbuncle in your panties..." Richard groaned, standing up and smiling.

"Nuh-uh-uh," Dent replied. "YOU fackies let Jim take over. Jim crashed the Kinkmobile. You're all fackies."

"We're done with you, Kinkmeister," Albert replied. "You've just been bringing us down."

"That's a real shame, baybitchbay," Dent replied. "Throwin' in with Jim and this Keira facky. What would Liz think?"

"Alright. I've heard enough. I say we kill these crazies... got any weapons, Wally?" Albert asked.

"Uh... just a spoon," Wally, the man with the vest, replied.

"I'm tired of this shit... attack!" Albert added. A fight broke out, with the remainders of Jim's cult-following attacking the group. The first man took on Par, who simply dodged all of his attacks and laughed while running from the attacker.

Keira took the chance to go toward the cliff, looking for Jim. Unfortunately, Boogie was still recovering nearby.

"Huergh. I don't think we ever got properly introduced," Boog stated. "Y'know... Jim's a sad, sad, man. I'm just sayin'! You'd be much better off with a real man."

"Where ya goin, beybeeeh?" Dent asked, also nearby.

"Consider your options, Pussy Lover," Bill added. "There is still time for you to redeem yourself."

Surrounded, Keira chose to flee the area and head toward the road. Meanwhile, Richard was dealing with Jim's goons.

"Y'wanna know..." Richard smacked his mouth, "why I use a fork?" the spoon-wielding opponent didn't seem amused. "Spoons are too quick... you can't savor the little... tastes."

"Enough of this!" Wally exclaimed, charging at Richard and attempting to use the end of the spoon's handle as a knife. This didn't work, as Richard simply caught the spoon and then jabbed his fork into Wally's nose.

"WHOOOHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Richard laughed maniacally, jabbing the fork into different parts of Wally's body, laughing each time. "You picked the wrong night to fuck with me, sausage. Y'know how I got this fork? My father was... a chef... and a specialist."

"You're a bastard," Wally spit blood, his lip jabbed by the fork.

"And one night, his food flames off crazier than usual... mommy gets the fire extinguisher to defend herself." Richard jabbed the fork into Wally's toe. "He doesn't like that... not... one... bit. So, me watching, he takes this fork to her... cooking while he does it."

"Let me guess, you pulled a fork out of your ass?" Wally asked angrily. This gave Richard an idea, as he promptly turned Wally around and stuck the fork up his rear end.

"Fork up yours, Batman... fork up yours! Anyhow, he turns to me, and he says 'why... so... ungrateful...' he comes at me with the fork. 'Let's put a good meal in that mouth!' He sticks the chicken in my mouth... oh, but then things get REEEALLY crazy... I take the fork from HIM... and I stick it in his eyeball." Richard promptly stuck the fork into Wally's eye. "Aaaaand.. why... so... ungrateful?" He jammed it in, causing Wally to begin screaming in pain and falling back. "WHOOOHAHAHAHA"

Meanwhile, Walker reached into his bag and pulled out the chainsaw. He was surrounded by two of the wrestlers, but he simply activated the chainsaw and spun around, holding it firmly as anyone nearby was shredded. This caused a severe injury to one man, but the other steered clear of him. "FOR OOD! GO E-WAY!" He marched around wildly, still swinging up his knees with every step, waving the chainsaw in the air.

Par was running away from another wrestler, dodging and snickering loudly until Bill showed up. The man looked at Bill, and Par tickled him.

"You fight like an unstenched man..." Bill began, "no sniff held back..." he shoved the man. "Admirable..." he blocked an attempted punch from the man, "but mistaken." Bill temporarily moved his bra mask aside before breathing on the man. He fell down immediately and went unconscious. Bill put the mask back on.

"Is anyone else having a BLAST?" Richard regrouped with Par and Bill. Boogie and Dent were watching.

"YOU CAN DO IT BEYBOIZ!" Dent encouraged.

Unfortunately, the remaining bandit decided it wasn't worth it to go up against Walker's chainsaw, and he and Albert grouped up to attack Bill. Bill, however, improvised. He took off the other half of his bra, grabbed the string to it, and twirled it around in the air like a whip. "BEWARE THE STEEENCH! AHHHHHHH!" Bill charged in, raising his left arm to send his stench everywhere. He dipped his left hand in the pit and then threw his fingers into the wrestler's face, sending him unconscious. He bra-slapped Albert, but he retaliated, and if it weren't for Walker's chainsaw charge, he'd have punched Bill in the face.

Meanwhile, Wally stood up, despite his injury. Blood poured from the spot where his eye used to be, but he ran over to the cliff edge to assist Jim. Noticing this, Bill rushed to action, charging toward the scene.

"WALLY! Seriously, dude, I can't hold on much longer," Jim croaked.

"Jim! Who the fuck are these crazies?" Wally asked, bending down to lend a hand.

"We are your reckoning," Bill said, announcing his presence. Startled, Wally was unable to react before Bill extended his foot forward, ass-shoving Wally off the cliff.

"AAUH!" Wally exclaimed, falling seventy feet below into the flaming wreckage.

"WHOA, MAN! WHAT'S GOIN ON??" Jim asked. Bill noticed Jim hanging there, but he ignored this and returned to the group.

Having been heavily injured by the chainsaw, Albert crawled away onto the pavement.

"What... where is everyone?" Albert was confused.

"They got kinked," Dent declared.

"Look, Dent, I'm sorry-eah!" Albert began.

"Nuh uh uh, Sparkles," Dent grabbed Albert by the neck. "Run along now and tell everyone why they shouldn't betray the KINK! Are we kinky?"

"W-We... we're... kinky..." Albert struggled for words.

"Nao, beboy. I'M kinky. You're kanky," Dent corrected.

"You're... k-kink-kinky... I'm... ka-kanky..." Albert managed.

"Das guwd, baybay." Dent released him. "Now go on."

"W-what about Jim?" Albert asked.

"Don't worreh. Just let things fall the way they need to, alright beboy?" Dent asked.

"Okay..." Albert ran off. As this happened, Par noticed Keira fleeing in the opposite direction. He ran over to intercept.

"Not so fast, dearie," Par giggled.

"Alright... how'd you know we were nearby?" Keira knew what was up. She'd noticed them turning.

"You said not to stalk you... I did exactly that," Par revealed the device from his pocket. "Left it on you back when you left to go with Dent. Still not sure why we all ended up in the desert together, but there has to be a connection. Not good to lose track of people with... connections."

"Wha-" Keira looked around herself, trying to locate the beacon.

"Oh do not worry... I hid it... strategically," Par said with a grin.

"Well guess what?" She asked.


"I'm actually a pervert," She said as she revealed her "writings," throwing a wad of them at Par before using the distraction to kick him in the knee. Par groaned and prepared to block the next strike, but Keira simply twisted his arm and then kneed him in the face, knocking him back. She then vacated the area. Par got up and grinned.

Still doesn't know where I put it, he thought.

"Sasuages, it seems we've been fucked," Richard noted.

"Royally," Par added.

"Really?" Bill asked. "I feel much better! I got to crush," Bill grinned.

"We need to find another vehicle," Walker added. "Unfortunately, I didn't pack any of those."

"Wot," Par added.

"I'm hungry," Boog added.

"Again?" Walker asked. Boog nodded.

"Alright, we know that there not many buildings around here other than the restaurant," Par began.

"Oh dear." Richard knew where this was going.

"Yes, unfortunately, we need to go back to the pub to find a suitable escape," Par declared.

"Good! They've got more food," Boogie added.

"And lots of cops, after what happened," Richard added.

"Ergo, we should try and head there now before it gets too crowded. It took us five to ten minutes to drive here, so it should not be that long of a walk," Par calculated.

"Alright baybeez, you go with the rest, I gotta check on the Kinkmobile," Dent said, separating from his arm women. They seemed reluctant, but he pried their hands off of him and wobbled forward. They took the message and followed the others, who began their hike back to the pub.

Meanwhile, Dent slowly limped toward the cliff. His face was red hot with anger, and his features were drenched in product, rain, and hot, steamy sweat. It seemed with every stomp of his rigged limb, his pain and hatred were increased. Eventually, he arrived at the cliff and found Jim Logan, still hanging on the edge.

"DENT! THANK GOD!" Jim cried out.

"HAAAAAAY, JIIIIIIIIM!" Dent's eyes widened and he grinned a bigger smile than ever before.

"HELP ME!" Jim shouted.

"I'm cummin' baybeeh..." Dent muttered, struggling to walk. Finally he looked straight down at Jim.

"What happened to your leg?" Jim groaned looked up with desperation.

"Cut it off..." Dent mumbled. He reached Jim.

"Help me up!" he cried.

"Right, right..." Dent said, removing the stick-attached limb.

"What are you doing?" Jim asked, his face suddenly growing worried.

"You're a baybitchbay..." Dent seemed so angry he might explode with redness. "You stole....." he coughed, "you stole my kinkmobile...."

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HELP ME!!!" Jim cried out.

"Here, here..." Dent said, lowering the limb. Jim didn't know how to handle this.

"What? WHY THAT!?" Jim panicked.

Dent's face was growing mischievously, as if he were happy and angry at the same time. He continued lowering the leg. "Long.... live...... the kink." He declared, smiling as he jammed the severed foot into Jim's face, stunning him.

"OW! WHAT THE FUCK!? Aaah!" Jim shouted as Dent hit him with the leg again, shoving him back. Finally, a third strike, knocking him loose and sending him off of the cliff.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Jim shouted, falling to his death.

Chapter 7: Escape Edit


Loud sirens wailed across the mountaintop as blue and red lights flickered through the trees. A wrecked Kinkmobile, several dead or injured people, and a massive mess of blood and weapons.

"What the hell..." a man inspected the scene. He appeared to be escorting the local authorities.

"Looks like... looks like he died by a fork!" An investigator said, eyeing a dead corpse, his mouth gaping open and his expression derp-like. "Several penetration marks here... here... and here. The sheriff approached the scene. He sniffed, staring at the path of chaos.

"I know what did this..." the sheriff sniffed again as he spoke, a tissue hanging out of his nose. His nose was red and mucus was scattered all over his palms. "Bears..."

"What?" Another man joined the conversation. He was a medic who was inspecting the bodies and tending to the injured. "You can't be serious... this was clearly a skirmish between civilians."

"doctor, ye'll be speakin' when spoken to... understand?" The sheriff sniffed.

"Very well..." the doctor groaned.

"Yeeep... it'd be them damn bears that did this ere." The sheriff sniffed, his southern accent making his words slur. "I been investigatin' over in dem mafia lands... they speak of a cult. Some kind of demonic group'a people callin' demselves Hydra..."

"Sir, Hydra has been dead for years." The investigator joined in. "The jailor went mad and executed them. It took the damn veteran to shoot the lunatic down."

"BUT!" The sheriff sniffed, beginning his sentence... "and I do love me some nice butts..." he stuffed a drenched tissue in the investigator's face, "we never got their leader. And that Clunker fellow... he escaped!" The sheriff quacked, a green liquid slithering down his mouth as he spoke. "Now, where do you reckon 'e went? Hmm?? HMM!? He went to their leader.... I've heard'ah'em before... they call 'em... Gravy Bones."

The doctor rejoined the conversation. "Don't speak of him... we lost a great many men to that monster..."

The sheriff ignored his comments. "He was workin' with two others... a corrupt official, and DAD-GUMMIT! That goddamn serial killer... WHOO he was the worst..."

"Hey..." The escort said. He was shivering, and he looked like someone had brought up his dead wife killed years ago by his pigeon-eating wildcat. "Don't give me goosebumps."

"Don't worry, nigga," the sheriff spit some of his slime on the ground, "Barbooza's loooong dead. Hehehe, brave vigilante got 'em. Regardless, only some supahnahtraul mumbo jumbo could do this..."

"Sir... you're not really implying this was the work of some religious or paranormal force, are you?" The doctor seemed annoyed - agitated that he was serving under such an unorthodox sheriff.

"I see nothing out of the ordinary here..." The investigator said. He was eyeing the corpse of the fork-butchered man when he said "Well, I take that back... but there's nothing ghostly here, sir." The man seemed frightened, wondering what the sheriff would think of his deduction. "Probably some mentally ill crazies here in some sort of conflict."

"The investigator is absolutely right, sir." The doctor was patching up an injured man whose tongue had been ripped out. He would never speak again. "This is another result of that damn bar over there, people become intoxicated and begin causing madness throughout the area. The place must be shut down."

"ARRRRRNT!" The sheriff turned to the doctor in rage, forcing a half-sneeze that sent mucus all over the tongueless man and the doctor's shoes. "There's a reason I'm in charge 'ere! Y'all best be listenin', and listenin' well cause I ain't sayin' it 'gain, aight?" The sheriff scrunched his face, pulling his nose up to send more gonk across his mustache. "I know dis place betta' than I know my own wife's mashed potatoes and gravy! Better than I know the biscuits on my plate, the creases in my jeans, or the change in my car!" The sheriff forced himself higher, standing far above the doctor, who was still aiding the injured man.

"Go on... sir?" The investigator wanted the awkward moment to end, although the doctor remained stiff.

"I know bears...." The sheriff blew his nose into a tissue again, this time sticking the tissue on the doctor's head. "I know the handiwork.... of bears.... and their master, Gravy Bones...." The sheriff's mustache was soaked now, "better than I know my own goddamned squishy, greasy behind!" A snort was heard throughout the crime scene. "And I will NOT be told I'm wrong by some doobily daddly doctor whom's thinkin' he's tough shit. A LOLLY-GAGGER! That's what ya are, doctor! That-is-what-you-are. Now lolly-gag back into your wife's bed... oh, that's right, ya ain't married... gee, wonder why!? Dad-fookin'-bum-locked-GUMMIT! BEARS DID THIS!"

"Yes... sir..." the doctor was terrified now, taking the tissue from his head and handing it to the injured man. The sheriff contracted, releasing himself from his stiff position. He looked down to the side, shaking his head.

Suddenly, a nerdy-looking man approached them. He was carrying many books, documents, etc... and he was panting, gasping for breath by the time he reached the sheriff.

"Wait, hold on a minute... who are you, again, exactly, err, sir?" The investigator muttered.

"Uhm, I'm the medium..." the man gritted his teeth. The he smiled, forced a short laugh, then frowned again. "One of the men woke up. He, uh... started talking... sir." The sheriff whooshed around, then began stomping toward the ambulance. One of Jim Logan's gang members had survived.

"Talk." The sheriff ordered. "C'mon now, speeeak. Quack! Squawk! 'mon now, open yer mouth!"

"Uh-bah duh duh duh... Jim Logan pissed off the kinkmeister! Please! I'm innocent!" The gangmember looked pitiful.

"Aaaaah bah bah bah, nupe! Zip!" The sheriff instructed, "I didn't ask ya to beg, I said SQUAWK! Tell me more 'bout what happened. C'mon. You can do it. 'mon now, we ain't got all night."

"Uh... well... there was this guy who smelled really bad. Like, REALLY bad... it killed people." The man explained,

"So that explains the chemical death exposure.... " The doctor discovered, "it wasn't poison, it was some sort of... stench."

The man continued, "And then there was a crazy guy with a fork... and a guy with one leg and women and... so many weird people. It was all her fault! The cat lady! She brought this hell on us."

"Sir, um... I just got a call from the mayor, um, sir. Um.." The medium said,

"WELL, SPIT IT OUT THEM! C'mon, son." Said the sheriff

"Sir... tens of reports of property damage due to rampant vehicles.... people said they heard 'AHHH! MOOOOM! MOTHERFUCK! MOTHERFUCK!' as a vehicle drove by and destroyed their crops," the medium's impression of the Boogie Baby nearly killed him... he didn't seem to be the type with the best vocals. "And then the bar is in ruins... so many dead, sir.... and then there are multiple reports of bears destroying farms and even killing a family bird." As the medium said this, the sheriff's eyes lit up.

"I knew it..." he looked down, sniffling again. "I knew what did this..." he looked into the distance, "THOSE GODDAMN BEARS!"

Meanwhile, the gang scurried through the woods, avoiding the members of the nearby town. Dent was helped by his women, who reattached to his arms. They reached a decent place to camp for the night.

"Unfortunately for you, gentlemen..." Bill began... "this group is beyond saving and must be allowed to die!--" Bill went to attack Walker in his sleep-deprived Bane mode, but Par knocked him out with a random log.

"Noticed the way he operates... every time he wakes up, he's a new personality." Par mentioned.

"We can just hope the next one isn't a sausage." Richard said.

"G0ld... you sound normal again." Par mentioned. Richard turned to him and Par noticed he looked like he was dizzy from getting laid, crashing a plane, and playing a videogame at the same time.

"You're right..." Richard mumbled, wobbling around. He proceeded to fall to the ground unconscious. ............... When Richard woke, it was still dark out. He saw Bill's unconscious body next to him. He felt the warmth of a campfire nearby, and he heard Dent rambling.

"So mai beybahz were on the surfing board after I said that, and then my GM says... 'THAT SOUNDS KINKY'.... And I'm just like.... BAYHAYHAYHAYHAYHAY---HAAAAYUH!"

"What in the bloody fook are you talkin' about..."

"GOOOOALD!" Boogie's voice was as loud as ever, but he was slumped over a tree, his fat chin and beard keeping his head from moving up. It was like the last thing in his body that worked before it shut down was his voice. "YA GOT ANY FOOD!?"

"If I did I wouldn't share it with you... tear some of that fat off and have a nice munch." Richard suggested. "Paahr."

"Wot." Par responded disrespectfully, but it seemed protocol to Richard.

"How long was I..."

"Few hours." Par mumbled.

"And how many...?"

"About five or six.. maybe seven, that last one looked pretty bad."

"I must have had a ton of Dr. Pepper..." Richard frowned.

"Just one glass, oh and some Pepsi.."

"Ugh, Pepsi just adds to it... sends me into fork mode." Richard realized with a face of "o_o"

"Oh yeah, it was your primary weapon."

"Course it was... what else would it be? A spoon? pfft."

"Careful baybayz... the stench returns." Dent said. Bill groaned, but this time it wasn't in a Bane voice. This time, he sounded more... puny. He grabbed a nearby stick and held it firmly in his hand.

"I am Loki of ass guard... and I am stenched with a glorious odor!" Bill proclaimed. There was silence for a moment, until Richard spoke...

"He's certainly not lying."

"You... you have much potential." Bill spoke to Boogie. "Much fat to be.... harvested!"

"Waot?" Boogie quacked.

"You will prove useful after I perform... the tactic of tickle." Bill jabbed the stick into Boogie's belly, his large flab of bloated greasiness shaking due to this. "This usually works..."

"Performance issues?" Boogie asked, grinning slightly. He was crouched over as if the lack of food had made him immobile.

"Yooooou PRICK!" Walker randomly had an outburst. "YOU TRIED TO STRANGLE ME!"

"What?" Bill seemed completely oblivious. Suddenly, Walker jammed a banana into Bill's crotch. "AAOUGH!" Bill groaned, bending over. "YOU DARE!? I AM A GOD OF ASS GUARD, YOU DULL LUNATIC! AND I WILL NOT BE CROTCH-BANANA'D BY---" Bill was cut off, as Walker then slapped Bill in the face with the banana.

"PRICK!" He said after the slap. Another slap, "PRICK!" -slap- "PRICK!" -slap- "PRICK!" -slap- "PRICK!" -slap- "PRICK!" -slap- "PRICK!" -slap- "PRICK!" -slap- "PRICK!"

Just as Bill thought it was over, "PUNY PRICK!" Walker jammed the banana into Bill's crotch yet again.

"Wankers." Par said.

"Sausages..." Richard added

"Dicks." Boogie insulted

"BAYBAYZ!" Dent added. Sunlight was approaching, and the group needed to formulate a plan.

"So... what's the plan?" Walker asked.

"Do I really look like a man with a plan?" Richard's eyes twitched a bit.

"G0ld, go take a piss." Par suggested.

"Very well." Richard complied, retreating behind a tree. "Yup, hopefully it's out of my system now."

"I have a plan..." Par began, " We hijack that Jeep the confoodlers were..."

"Confoodling in." Richard added.

"Well, I didn't want to say that because it'd be repetitive." Par pointed out.

"Well, too bloody bad. Sausage."

"Anyways," Par continued, "we take that Jeep and we get the bloody fook outta here. Boogie drives."

"Wait... are you seriously suggesting we let that..." Richard cleared his throat, "HIM... drive our vehicle?"

"My plan's going to cause the people up front to take quite a bit of an... impact. His belly will protect him." Par added.

"Very well..." Richard looked very worried.

"I'mmawwhhagobblegobbleguwhahbleh," Boogie grumbled.

"Wot." Par seemed confused.

"He needs food b@hbeyz," Dent said. "Walka biby, get some fewd." Walker fetched some crackers for Boog, who immediately consumed them. Energized a slight bit by the snack, he seemed willing to go through with the plan. The group made their way back to the bar. Police cars surrounded the area. The Jeep had moved around the corner to a parking spot along the side of the building, obviously wishing to have a nice private spot for confoodling.

"We'll need a distraction." Walker pointed out.

"And those confoodlers will be a problem." Richard added.

"If we can slip by that one cop there, we can avoid detection because the Jeep is sort of away from things. The confoodlers will be the thorn in out side." Par decided. They then noticed that more cars were arriving. The sheriff, flanked by the investigator, the escort, and the doctor arrived.

"Bill, distract the authorities." Richard suggested, "Then make your way back here."

"It burns you to come so close... so close to a functional Jeep... and then come up short..." Bill went on a monologue, "I'll not be helping you... what's in it for me?"

"Lemme put it this way bihbeeh," Dent began, "you halp us, or I kink you up!" Bill seemed very intimidated by this threat. His eyes widened.

"When do we start?" Bill asked with a grin.

"Now." Richard suggested. "Get out there, you sausage!"

"Yes yes, alright..." Bill was very slow. He took his time walking straight by the one cop who was in the side parking lot. He made his way to the police. "Kneel..."

"This is going to end badly." Boogie grumbled.

"Yuuup." Par giggled.

"Just give it a minute." Richard said. "If he dies, we'll be rid of the stench. In the meantime, get the Jeep."

"Mmmmmm" Dent grinned, his ladies and his re-attached limb carrying him toward the Jeep. Boogie was preparing to drive, while Richard and Walker monitored the area. Walker flanked Dent.

-Meanwhile, Bill was still attempting to do his work.

"Now... whaddahail is this!?" The sheriff asked, sniffing.

"He seems to be mentally ill... I'll need a closer look." The doctor said, inspecting Bill.

"Oh my GOD!" The investigator proclaimed. "He smells like SHIT!"

"Yessssss." Bill's grin turned psychopath crazy. "My stench is INVIIINCIBLE!" Bill locked a random police officer's head in his armpit. The man instantly passed out.

"Alright! 'ands in the air, gentleman... we'll getcha to the Asssssylum... hueh hueh hueh." The sheriff sniffed again, lazily grabbing a firearm and stuffing a tissue in the doctor's pocket.


"Now, don'tchu gimme any of that crazy shit! I know what yer doin... I know who's yew workin' for... just give it up, son." The sheriff pleaded.

"He won't reason with you," the doctor said. "He's a lunatic."

"I said...." Bill paused. He raised his arms into the air, his bare armpits exposed for everyone too see... and smell. He still had only half a bra on, so there wasn't anything to stop the full odor from penetrating everyone's nostrils. "KNEEEEEELL!!!!!!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs before a nice cough. Suddenly, the medium approached the scene - he was late, as usual.

"Wait, what's goin' on?" The estranged medium asked.

"You.... your ass is far too small. YOU BETRAY ASSGUARD!" Bill said, lunging at the medium. He grabbed a hair from his armpit and stuck it in the medium's nose.

"I... I... I have asthma.. ugh... aught!" The man began choking. "I.... I I I can'thold on any longer... ANAKIN!" The medium fell down, dead.

"The medium's curse.... DUMMIT-GAD!" The sheriff quacked.

-Meanwhile, the group was hijacking the jeep...

"EWWWWWW!" Boogie shouted. "THEY'RE DOING DOGGY STYLE!" Par's face lit up as he ran toward the Jeep. The group eventually all surrounded the Jeep, as the cops were completely distracted by Bill. They all looked into the window, staring a the couple getting it on. The Jeep's windows were clouded and the seats were soaked with sweat.

"Mmmmm.... these babies can got for a loooong tiiime," Dent licked his lips.

"Sausages." Richard muttered.

-Meanwhile, Bill was continuing...

"We won't kneel! Not to men like you." The investigator protested, drawing a sidearm and pointing it at Bill. "Now... put your hands behind your back... DROP THE ARMPITS!"

"Never..." Bill replied dramatically, "you will not harm me... you squabble among yourselves like animals... I am a GOD! I AM ALL-POWERFUL, YOU FOUL ANIMALS... and I am above you in so many ways..." Bill was going on his speech.

"I'LL GET 'EM!" Shouted the escort, who lunged at Bill and tackled him to the ground. It appeared he had Bill beaten, but Bill dipped his fingers in his armpit and then sent two of them into the man's nose. He lunged backwards, yelling a curse. Bill the proceeded to grab the man by the shoulders and exhale into his face. The man instantly fell over, thumping onto the edge of a car and landing on the ground unconscious... or dead.

"Yup, he's a serial killer. Should we take em down, sir?" The investigator asked.

"No, no.... I know whatchu are, dad gummit!" The sheriff wiped his nose. "Yer a cock-blocking nose-runner, y'know that? Yer a pig-flying eater 'o horse radish, and you belong in a dadgum potato salad!"

"Look to your elder, people..." Bill began.

-Meanwhile, the Jeep was being hijacked. Boogie used his fat muscles to plunge the door of the Jeep open, and Walker dragged the male out of it.


"Dude, what in the actual fuck!?" The man asked.

"That certainly seemed like an actual fuck to me..." Richard muttered with a hidden grin. The woman also exited the jeep.

"Ok. Liek. I'm gunna seriously kick you all in the crotches." The woman protested.

"Wouldn't work on Boogie." Par mumbled.

"Good idea!" Walker exclaimed before kicking the man in his bare crotch. He let out a massive screech, falling to the ground. Boogie proceeded to the driver's seat, while the rest began to find places within the vehicle. Richard and Par said in the back of the vehicle, where the confoodling has just taken place...

"Bloody damned sausages." Richard said.

"Sorry, it's all part of the plan." Par added.

"Hey, look!" A state trooper shouted randomly. "Harassment!" He pointed toward the jeep and a handful of cops made their way toward the Jeep.

"Alright, GET IN HERE YOU BLOOMIN' COCK-SAUSAGES!" Richard yelled. Walker and Dent squeezed themselves in the middle of the vehicle, with Walker being forced to sit in the lap of one of Dent's ladies.

"I swear on Thor's giant penis, if you don't get me out of here alive I will stench this entire earth!" Bill shouted as Boogie began steering the Jeep toward him, running over a man in the process. Bill proceeded into the passenger's seat, and the Jeep took off. Boogie was reading a piece of papers with instructions from Par. He made a left, and sirens agitated the remaining customers in the restaurant as police cars scurried after the group and their Jeep.

"FASTER FASTER BEYBIIIH!" Dent said with a rapeface.

"Well cock my suck and feet my lick, dummit-gad!" The sheriff said with a sneeze, steering a car after them. "Yeeeeep, this is definitely them Hydra folks."

"Alright, we need some tunes!" Bill's high-pitched voice returned as he grabbed a random disk from the car's glove compartment and inserted it. The original Batman theme played, and Richard wasn't fond of it. Every time the chorus sung "BATMAN," Richard would shout "BORING!"

"What the bloody fook is this happy nonsense?" Par asked.


"Uh, speed it up Boogie." Par suggested. The cops were gaining on them, and Boogie was driving like an old lady.

"Yes, pick the one car that will attract the MOST attention. Wonderful thinking." Bill jabbed. Richard noticed the police were right on their asses, so he smashed open the back window and threw his apple at them. The apple went through the window on one car, causing the driver to turn to the left and plunge themselves off the cliff. Walker handed Richard some bananas and he began pelting them at the pursuers.

"Destroy those dumbasses, they are dumber than Thor with an ingrown toenail!" shouted Bill.

"SHIIIIIAT" Boogie yelled, spotting two cops who were ready to intercept him ahead. He slowed down. The sheriff, who was in a car behind them, began shouting.


"Ahh, exactly where I predicted they'd be." Par said. "Take a left now."

"Waot? It's a cliff!" Boogie protested.

"Exactly!" Par said as he reached forward and pulled on Boogie's hair. He triggered some kind of reaction, cause he slammed on the ignition, and Par then turned his head to the left, which cause him to make a turn.

"AHHHHHHHHH!" Boogie panicked.

"By my brother's penis!" Bill said, his eyes as wide as Boogie's mouth. The Jeep trekked downward, following the path of a series of poles. Smashing each one, the vehicle presented no easy ride, and the car nearly flew downhill as the sheriff's mucus dripped down his shirt as he stared at the event in awe.

"SAUSAGES!" Richard shouted,

"FOR MOTHER RUSSIA!!!" Par cheered them on, as Dent's arm women flew to the front of the vehicle. Dent's product shifted to the front of his head and dripped down his face. Walker's head hit the top of the car every time the car hit a bump --and there were a ton of rocks--, but he seemed to be enjoying. The mountain grew even more steep, and the Jeep took flight - flying straight downward, crashing through two electric poles, which sent blue sparks and flames through the car. Somebody farted.

"BILL, TURN THE DAMN STENCH OFF!" Par demanded in mid-air


The Jeep slammed straight-on into a large rock, flipping over and landing at the bottom of the mountain. This part of the mountain was followed by a large cornfield. Walker was the first to exit the derelict vehicle. He began his usual march, derping around the area. Dent seemed to have survived, and with the help of his women, he crawled out. Richard looked annoyed as hell, but eventually made it out. Par decided to crawl out of the back window.

"Aaaaaough," Boogie grumbled. Indeed, his fat had cushioned the blow of the fall. He was still alive, and with the help of the lot of them, he was rescued from his metallic flaming prison. Bill, however, was not so lucky. He had taken a critical hit, and was knocked unconscious. They dragged him out and woke him up. He wasn't a movie character this time. Instead, his eyes made him look like he'd seen a ghost. Wandering around, he acted as if he was searching for something. He started touching the corn. He seemed mesmerized by it. Suddenly, he burst out into a statement. The first three words sounded more like Loki, while the word "kitty" sounded like Davy Jones. Finally, his high-pitched voice squeaked on the last word.


"Eh?" - Walka

"Waot" - Boogie

"Wot." - Par

"Wat." - Richard

"BAYBEHS!" - Dent

"EVERYONE, FOLLOW ME!" Bill said as he ran through the cornfields. "THE PUSSY CALLS!"

"No way in hell I'm following him." Richard muttered.

"IF YOU DON'T, I STENCH THIS WHOLE FIELD! NOW COOOOOME. THE PUSSSYYYY AWAAAAAAAITSSSS." he slurred his words, a rapeface forming on him.

"What the hell, why not?" Par asked.

"Better than smelling THAT." Walker added.

"GodDAMMIT, BILL!" Boogie shouted, reluctantly following him. The group ran through the cornfields, shoving away unwelcoming vegetables as the stuck up to smack them in the face. Boogie could barely travel, but Walker began pushing him --still doing his march-- forward like a shopping cart.

"You're a bloody sausage, Bill!" Richard yelled.

"YOU'LL SEE. YOU'LL ALL SEE." Bill shouted, almost as if it were rehearsed. "YOU'LL FEEL IT TOO. IT'S SO... PULLING."

"The pussy is pulling you?" Richard asked with "o_O"


"What kind of porno are you writing now!?" Richard demanded. As much as he hated to admit it, Richard did feel something. He felt a sudden urge to follow Bill, like he was somehow clairvoyant. It was as if instead of ignorance being bliss, idiocy was all-knowing.

"WHOOOO, THIS IS FUN BEYBIES!" Dent chanted. Yes, chanted. He began shouting this over and over again before Walker and Boogie began joining in. Except all Walker would say was "FUN," and Boogie was just grumbling it all.

"FOR THE PUSSYYYYYYYY!" Bill exclaimed, driving the group further forward into the abyss. They all drove themselves through, eventually giving up on trying to see and simply staggering forward, ignoring any distractions and pushing against the weight of the corn... and in Walker's case, Boogie. ... They reached the end of the fields. What followed was a small property. There was a shack that appeared to be vacant. Two trees guarded this small settlement, and a boat was tied up in what followed after the house - an ocean. No, not an ocean... but it seemed big enough to be one. It was an immensely large lake. Bill's voice altered back into something all-too-familiar as his eyes narrowed and he licked his lips... "I am the sea."

"WHOO-WHEE, BOYBYEZ, WHAT A RUN!" Dent exclaimed.

"Just give me a Dr. Pepper and I'll end this madness." Richard commented.

"Tempted to, but I don't even have one." Par admitted.

Bill's behavior returned to his hypnotic zombie-like waltz. "Get in the boat or be stenched, yooooou fuckers. The pussy awaits."

Chapter 8: A Boat Trip Edit


"Wait... we're stealing someone's boat!?" Richard was exhausted from the run. He didn't process the thought through his brain until Bill had already prepared the boat and gotten Dent inside. Dent seemed like he was up for anything, he was just enjoying the madness. Richard, however, was questioning the sanity of the group and their journey in general. He just wanted to get home. Nonetheless, Par was decently sane, and Richard figured that if Par was okay with it, he was too. It was the best chance at getting out of there.

"Commandeer." Bill corrected. "We're going to commandeer... that ship."

"We're going out onto that lake?" Walker asked, confused.

"Yeeeeeehhhhsssss," Bill's voice was deranged and he seemed obsessed with the journey. He was being drawn to wherever he was trying to go like Boogie was drawn to food. He transformed into Davy Jones, "Calypso...."

"What the hail is he talkin about?" Walker asked.

"I dunno, but it sounds kinky beybois!" Dent exclaimed, his women with blank expressions on their faces. One was still donning Bill's spideman costume -- and Bill was still only covering one nipple and.... whatever he had down there. The group made their way onto the boat - a moderately sized mechanical machine capable of getting a large group of people from one place to another. It wasn't a military ship or a large cargo vessel, more of an oversized fishing boat. Bill seemed to instantly know how to steer the thing, and once Boog was situated below decks --this took quite some time,-- he prepared it to make way. It was surprisingly fast to start, and with Walker's assistance they headed out into the dark of the nighttime water. The darkness didn't last, though, as sunrise soon came upon them. However, storm clouds prevented it from shining brightly; rain began to fall. 

"It's raining, on top of everything!" Walker exclaimed.

"That's a bad sign." Par muttered. Despite his negative attitude, he frequently expressed to Richard how he hated the sunlight and would rather a tornado be next to him than to have to deal with the sun. Richard enjoyed the rain, but not when he was in it for a long while - he quite liked staring out a window and seeing the falling pour of water rinsing the earth. 

"AHAHAHAHAHA." Bill was laughing in his fish-like voice as the vessel rocked beneath the curves of the lake - or ocean. They weren't sure what it was - it was that bloody big. Richard was grasping the side of the ship with a determined look on his face, although most of them expected him to say "sausage" any moment. Par was at the front of the ship, his arms spread out and his face lifted with a smile.

"AT LAAAAST!" Par yelled, "I AM FREEE! FREEE TO SAIL THE WA--" *splash* 


"Further in!" Richard shouted, not taking his eyes off of the field of water in front of him. He seemed to have a knowledge of the sea not unlike Bill, but he was sane about it... mostly. "We're comin' upon faster waters ye sausages."

"Dowut?" Walker asked, poking his head out of the window of the control room above. He seemed frightened and motionless, except for his blue hair, which flew in all directions.

"Hold your piss and eat yer feces! AHAHAHAHAHA!" Richard shouted, a slight grin appearing on his face. Dent was also smiling, as he was standing in the middle of the ship on the top deck, his women at his sides as he didn't even seem to notice his missing limb.

"WE NEED TO SLOW DOWN!" Walker shouted. 

"SHE'LL NOT HARM US! FULL BEAR INTO THE ABYSS-ah!" Bill shouted, gleefully causing the ship to go faster.


"Dude, you're nuts!" Walker exclaimed.

"HA! Ye 'fraid to get wet-ah!" Bill exclaimed in response, pulling a lever that sent electrical sparks flying and that also seemed to nearly cause the ship to break down. This drove the ship further forward, crashing straight into a wave that sent Par flying back into one of Dent's women, separating her from the kinkmaster. It was the one with the Spiderman suit.

"NO! MY KINKY BAYBEEH!" Dent exclaimed, turning around in surprise.

"Well hello beautiful..." Par flirted, clearly taken out of his usual sane mind.

"DOWUT!? WHY IS EVERYONE GOING CRAZY!?" Walker, despite his bizarre appearance and abnormal march --which he still walked in,-- seemed to be the only person aboard whose brain was functioning. He marched over to the hatch that led below decks and opened it - only to find that Boog was wobbling around and shouting.

"MY GAAAAAAWD!" Boogie blurted, his eyes as wide as his mouth.

"DOWUT!? BOOGIE! WHAT'S GOING ON!?" Walker asked, his blue hair and orange man purse blowing around in the storm like trash bags facing a vacuum cleaner.

"I'M GONNA BE SEA-SICK.... OH MY GAAAWDDDD!" Boogie quacked. Walker shut the hatch in frustration. He saw that Par had gone to the control room to speak with Bill --their acting captain-- about their course.

"TO ARMS!!!" Par yelled. "WE GIVE NO QUARTER!" There was, however, not a single enemy ship in sight to fight.

"DOWUT!?" Walker questioned, barely hearing this order.

Suddenly, Bill stepped outside for a moment to feel the rain on him. Sensing something, he shouted randomly. "EeeeeuuuughhhhAAAAAAAAAUGHHHHH!!!"

"DOWUT!!! YOU REALLY ARE NUTS!" Walker continued his attempts to reason with the crazed nearly-nude stenchfest.

"THE CHEESE PUSSY AWAITS US-ah!" Bill screamed, spewing gibberish. "FFUUULLLL BEEEEEAR-AH! DOOOOWN!" another wave crashed against the ship as the aroma of Boog's regurgitated potato chips filled the air, overpowering the smell of the sea and even Bill's stench itself, briefly. "WE MAKE WAY TO THE CHEESY PUSSY-AH!"

"What the HAIL are you talkin' about!?" Walker asked. Par exited the control room again, running around the ship and enjoying the rain with a rapeface expression that sent Walker avoiding him at all costs. If Par went to the starboard side of the ship, Walker would find his way to the port. Eventually, he made it to the upper part of the ship. Richard just watched them, a stern expression painted on him as he stroked his beard. 

"MAAAAELSTROOOM!" Dent shouted as the crew panicked before realizing he was referring to... something in one of his women's pants.

"DOWUT!?" Walker seemed desperate now, and he sought the help of his Kinkmeister. "DENT! SUPER DESPERATE TIME?"

"Huh beibah?" Dent was focused on his "maelstrom."


"Naaaawwww, nao nao nao nao baybeeh, we're fiiiiine. MMMMMMMMM," Dent's product was all over him due to the rain. As he stroked his neck and looked down at one of his women, all hope seemed lost. Walker panicked, looking to his last resort of a savior,

"RICHARD! THEY'VE ALL GONE CRAZY! WE NEED YOU TO STEER!" Walker shouted. Richard thought on this a moment, then returned to the control room and pushed Bill aside.

"Aye, that be true!" Richard responded, a large grin taking place on his bearded face. Walker wondered if he'd be any less crazy than the rest of them. "BRACE UP YARDS, YE CACK-HANDED DINKYLICIOUS DECK-APES! SAUSAGE'IN'S THE DAY WORTH LIVIN' FOR!" Clearly, he wasn't.

"Um... THIS ISN'T A SAILING SHIP!" Walker was quick to correct Richard in a very angry-sounding tone. He felt as if he were surrounded by idiots...

"NAY, BELAY THAAAT!" Richard retorted. After a few more minutes of sailing, the clouds grew so dark it looked like it was nearly nighttime. However, there was a bigger problem... Par was the first to notice it, but he didn't seem to care. Dent saw it next. 

"My my my, is that KINKY or is that kinkyliciously KINKEH!?" Dent remarked. 

"We're gooood and lost now..." Richard grinned, steering the ship away from it. Bill, however, had other plans. 

"THE DUTCHMAN SAILS... AS ITS CAPTAIN COMMANDS-ah!" Bill took the "wheel", steering the ship back toward it. 

"And its captain is to sail it as commanded!" Par joined the conversation, having entered the control room stealthily. He pushed them both aside, attempting to STOP the ship. 

"I'll not be havin' me own fate controlled by Lord Beckett Cutler!" Richard stated, then hesitated. "Also known as Cutler Beckett!" he shoved them both aside and took the controls, but Bill soon moved his arm up, unleashing his stench. Richard and Par ducked for cover as Bill drove them full ahead into the abyss. 

"WHAT ARE THEY DOING!?" Boog asked, still puking below decks. 

"Something KINKY!" Dent winked. Walker was furious. 

"Too long this boat was not in me own hands... no longer." Richard shoved Bill out of the control room and turned the ship away from what was approaching... but it was too late. The waves were bringing them in. "We're off the edge of the map, mateys... here there be..." 

"BEEEEARS!" Walker screamed, seeing what was ahead. 

"Wot? Where!?" Par demanded. "Where are those damn bears!?" 

"AHEAD YOU ASSHOLE! LOOK!" Walker pointed in front of them to what they had all seen, but it was more than that... the gigantic towering structure they saw before them stood on a large rock island -- one infested with bears. Richard knew they were doomed. 

"TURN US AWAY!" Walker shouted, but Richard disagreed. 

"NAY BELAY THAT, LET HER RUN STRAIGHT AND TRUE!" He cackled. Bill just stared in awe at the tower in front of him - a massive building that nearly reached the sky, its top decorated with two large horn-like spikes. In between the horns was a massive circular orb of energy, and it resembled a piece of cheese cut in a circular shape. 

"Calypso.... Pussy... Steak..... cheeeese-ah!" Bill mentioned. The ship was beyond escape, though... their bickering over the controls had cost them their freedom as the water pulled them in toward the bear-infested island.  

"And of course, you all get me stuck with MORE DAMN BEARS!!!" Par exclaimed. The ship had no chance and was brought in, crashing violently into the rock. As this happened, Bill flew onto the island from the impact. He groaned, then stood up, seeing a literal formation of bears in front of him. Suddenly, he panicked. 

"I stepped.... on... LAAAAND-ah!" he exclaimed, shaking his arms around wildly and spinning his eyeballs chaotically as he yelled, "AAAAAUUUUUUAGHHHHERAAAHHHAAAEEEEOUGHHHHHHHHH!!!!", then fell to the ground unconscious.  

"So..." Richard said, helping himself up to a stance as he muttered his words. After a pause, a grin appeared on his face. "What's become of my ship?"  

"Bloody derelict, she is." Par pointed out. THUMP.  



Out crawled Boogie from below decks.  

"Oh my GAAAAAWD."  

"Oh dear..." Richard sighed.  

"AAAAAOURGHH!" Boogie grumbled.  

"Hay baybeh." Dent had a drunk smile on his face as he and his women had been thrust to the stern of the ship. Speaking of his women, though, one had disappeared.

"Uh, Dent..." Par began, "you're missin' an Arm-Lady."    

"BY MY KINKY-HEAVENS NOO!" Dent exclaimed, realizing she was missing. "AND I JUST GOT THE BAYBEEH BACH AFTER YOU SEPARATED US!"    

"Don't blame me, blame the wave." Par responded with an uninterested frown.    

"WHERE'S MY BEYBOI!?" Dent asked, panicking at the loss of one of his women. "BOOGIE BABY, FIND HER!"    

"Aaaaaough. Deeent!" Boogie blurted with a belch. "find her yourself."    

"I need your keen smell, boybay."    

"Eat a diiick." Boogie grumbled.    

"Dent, she's right over here." Richard said. He was at the stern of the boat, which had rammed into the rocks. In a crevice below lied a spiderman-costumed woman on top of a blue-haired man. They both appeared to be unconscious,    


"Wut." Walker awakened, noticing his awkward position. "WUT!" The group got Walker out of there along with the woman. After this random development, Walker was the first to use his brain. "BEEEEEEARS"    

"Wot." - Par    

"Waot." - Boog    

"DOWUT BAYBEEHZ?" - Dent    

"What the bloody fook..." - Richard    


"Pretty much." Richard muttered. The bears, however, were simply standing in formation. They weren't touching Bill... instead, they appeared to be waiting for something. Walker grabbed dual bananas and slowly "marched" off of the derelict vessel and onto the rock island. As he approached the bears, they all stood aside and created a pathway for him to walk toward the towering structure. Suddenly, Boog's eyes lit up.    


"My dear." Richard commented.    

"Bloody hell." Par added. Meanwhile, Boog stormed past them and walked to the shore, nearly breaking part of the ship as he did so. He reached the island, walked past Bill, and headed through the path.    

"What the hell, we might as well follow him. This boat is done for." Richard concluded.    

"Bears..." Walker muttered, still frightened by the creature.    

"I swear, if this is a dream I'm so turning it into a movie some day." Par mentioned.    

"If this were a dream, you'd all be sausages." Richard grumbled.    

"LET'S GO BEYBEEHS!" Dent said, cheering on his women as they helped him onto the rocks. As the group walked by the formation of bears --carrying Bill, and avoiding separating his arms from his body...-- they saw that there was a large door directly ahead of them leading into the massive tower. Boogie was the first to arrive and was greeted by a stern, wrinkled man with glasses.    

"Mr. Mango... we've been expecting you." The man said.

Chapter 9: MongerEdit


"Wow. Like, guys, he knows my name! Must be 'cause I'm real popular, y'know? Huergh. Do ya have somethin' to eat'?" Boogie asked upon meeting the man.

"Of course." The blank-faced man replied in a monotone voice. His composure was stiff, unmoved, and nearly lifeless. "This is the Grand Cheese Palace, home of all dairy. If any place is going to have food, it is here."

"Mm. Smells delicious!" Boog let himself in, and the man moved aside to accomodate room for the gigantic Boogie Baby.

"Hold on a second." Par remarked. "This is a giant evil castle-er, tower, more or less, with a giant golden ball on the top of it, and we're accepting an invitation to enter from a creepy old man. Does that bother anybody else?"

"Yes." Walker gave his input. "This is definitely not oodious at all. If anyone has seen the X-files, you'll know that going toward the creepy places is what gets you killed by creepy things. I, for one, prefer to avoid creepy things. Me going in there would be like a germophobe walking into a public bathroom." As Walker protectively slid his hands into his pockets, Bill began to awaken.

"Indeed. Boog, get back out here!" Richard instructed.

"Aaaargh." Bill groaned in a robotic voice, coughing and looking around frantically. "What happened?"

"Ah. Mr. Puckett." The man greeted Bill. "We are... relieved... to see that you have recovered and survived adequately."

"That's General Billy Plunder, Jedi scum." Bill gazed into the man's eyes, hunching over and tilting his head. The man's eyes twitched.

"I do believe you were instructed to bring this group of consumers to Cheesia. You have accomplished your task, and shall be granted forgiveness for your disrespect in return for your cooperation." The man squinted his eyebrows and gave Bill a hard glare.

"What?" Bill coughed. 

"Well, I'm afraid we didn't come here for forgiveness. This doesn't look like a church." Richard remarked.

"No, we came here for food! Huergh heueh hueh!" Boogie gobbled inside.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, consumer." The man replied. 

"Bibehs, let's just go in and see how it goes. Who wants to stand outside in this good-for-nothin storm anyways?" Dent added. 

"I do." Walker replied. "In Ood, rain is considered good weather! Everyone stands outside and we have dances and celebrations when water falls from the sky! Of course, we have various forms of rain, including milk, honey, and even hand sanitizer."

"What he's trying to say is: we're not going in there. Sorry!" Par turned to walk away, but the man suddenly reached forward and grabbed onto Par's arm.

"I'm afraid you do not have a choice." The man responded. As if on command, the group could not argue with this. They were compelled by argument of the pale-faced man, who proceeded to lead the group into the building. Indeed, there was plenty of food - the moment the group entered, they looked to each of their sides and noticed rows of cheese chunks sitting on stools. The displayed cheese pieces, all representing different flavors, were all accompanied by specific lights aimed at each piece and description boxes below the actual dairy products. The interior of the establishment was mostly brown, black, and yellow, with bright golden lights illuminating the high-risen walls of the nearly medieval-styled room. As the group was escorted through several hallways, they found themselves in a massive room filled with... cheese people.    

"Cheese people." Walker muttered.   

"Eh?" Par asked.    

"All the bear problems we've had... I blame the cheese people." Walker said    

"Oh. So, cheese people... by dint of being cheese people... aren't as trustworthy as non-cheese people?"  Par asked.

"That seems a bit contributory to me." Walker responded. The cheese people were strange, stringy-looking walking formations of dairy products. Appearing in an array of colors, shapes, and sizes, they had no human-like qualities aside from the placement of their limbs.    

"Kinky." Dent commented.    

"This way..." the wrinkled man said with light hesitation, clearly annoyed at the group's bickering. He led them to a large elevator shaft that was in the center of the building. They were barely able to fit in it without Boog, but when he joined, everyone was being squished.    

"Sausage." Richard complained.    


Very peaceful, calming cheese-oriented songs played on the elevator's radio. A portrait of a tall, yellow man wearing decadent armor, a massive crown, and a golden cape was hung on the inside.

DING - they reached the 69th floor, which appeared to be the top. They all fell out once the door opened, Boog's stomach forcing them out of the crammed space.    

"Treat your monger with respect... he is not merciful to those who insult him." The old man man said. Bill groaned in a robotic-sounding voice before coughing violently.    

"Huh?" Bill looked around. He saw one of the cheese people and then randomly said."Jeeedi!" This cheese person wasn't just walking around though, he was beginning to inspect them... thoroughly. Bill made several strange noises as the cheese person inspected his... "lower regions."

"Get the bloody fook away." Richard shooed.    

"Oh my gaaaawd, I'M SO HUNGRY!" Boog violently lunged forward and ripped the the cheese man's arm off, eating instantly. "Mmm!" Boogie went in for more.   

"I'm not entirely sure that's necessary..." Par frowned.    

"MM-MM-MM-MM" Boogie grumbled. After two minutes, he'd consumed the entire helpless cheese person, who was unable to talk. The creepy man didn't seem to care, as he stepped away from them and spoke to someone in the distance.    

"Sir... they have arrived." He said. After a pause, a low, sleepy-sounding voice with a touch of agitation filled the room.    

"Ah... finally." The voice came from a figure sitting in a tall throne made of blackened, burnt cheese. Not a typical throne, it functioned as a "swivel chair," able to turn around in all directions. The throne sat atop a platform that descended to the main floor. The room was, naturally, filled with cheese - the walls were brown and yellow, Wisconsin apparel filled the room, and statues made of cheese that depicted people made of cheese lined the walls. The figure whipped a milk jug out of nowhere and proceeded to drink the entire thing, taking his time to consume the liquid.    

"Kinkay!" Dent commented.    

"Huergh. Like. Ya got anymore cheese!?" Boogie demanded, wobbling past the wrinkled man to the throne, which was facing away from them. The throne turned and the producer of the voice stood out of it. He was an armored towering figure, his helmet resembling the building itself - two tall spikes connected by a swirling ball of cheese, magically floating in the air between them. His ears were long like a goblin's and just above them he had dark curls of hair resembling the British. His crown was quite large and hid part of his face, although his thin-shaped mouth was visible for all to see, and his teeth were yellower than a homeless man's.    

"You will speak when spoken to, consumer!" The commanding voice echoed through the room. Bill noticed this, and spoke out of assumption.    

"JEDI!" Bill said.    

"What did I just say...?" The towering figure seemed annoyed now.    

"Jedi SCUM!" Bill responded.    

"Gentlecheese... please contain this bullswisser."    

"Wait... wot?" Par said.    

"Silence!" The man replied. "Cheese!" Suddenly, thirty cheese people appeared and approached Bill.    

"Hahaha... army or not, you must realize - you... are... doooomed." Bill grinned and raised his arms up, unleashing his power. "Eh-hah-EH-hah." ... nothing happened. The cheese army collapsed on Bill, holding him down.    

"Your stench will not aid you here, bullswisser! My cheese men do not have nostrils-ah." The man replied.    

"I.... think we've gotten off on the wrong foot." Richard said, attempting to ease the situation. "Who are you exactly? And, uh.. m'name's Richard! If anyone cares..."    

"Allow me to introduce myself properly." The figure replied. "I... AM... THE CHEEEEEESEMOOOONGEEEER!"    

"...well then." Par commented.    


"Jeeedi..." Bill coughed, still being restrained by the cheese army.    

"Do any of you even realize why are you here? Why you are within the Grand Palace?" The Cheesemonger asked.    

"Nope." Richard replied bluntly.    

"Why you've been hunted by my... pets?" The Monger continued,    

"Wait, hold on a minute." Par blurted. "You're telling me that all of these bears are somehow connected with... Your Cheesiness?"    

"Ahhhh, you've learned Formal Speak. Impressive."    

"Wot." Par questioned. The Cheesemonger realized he had misunderstood. He stroked the patch of grated cheese growing out of his chin and went on.    

"Yes, indeed.... the bears. They are quite fond of cheese..." The Monger looked so satisfied with his words. "as are all creatures in this realm."    

"I LOVE CHEESE!" Boogie snorted.    

"Of COURSE you do, consumer-ah!" The Monger narrowed his eyes at Boog. "Boogie Mango... there is a touch of obesity in you... nonetheless, I owe you all an explanation. I am nothing if not a fair monger. You three." He pointed to Par, Richard, and Bill. "You were brought to me with a fourth... where is she?"    

"I knew something was suspicious about that bitch!" Bill grunted, still being held down by the cheese men.    

"BullSWISSAH! You give me words... plenty of them. You cough up your bacteria into my home... and you present foul language like it is child's play. However YOU have failed to answer my question. What is it that happened to Miss... Kinover, was it?"    

"Pary Baybeh stuck a nice piece of metal into her front, b@Ybeehz. It was kinkeeh." Dent responded.    

"Oh, but that's not even where I put it." Par remarked.   

"Oh... OH!. Mmmmmmmmm" Dent's eyes widened. He drew a smile, but he soon looked to his women with a disturbed impression.

"Jeeedi." Bill coughed.    

"What my... learned colleagues so naively suggest, is that Miss Kinover got separated from us. However, Par here stuck a tracking device... somewhere on her person... ish? Furthermore, she has not escaped our gaze."    

"Goooooouda!" The Cheesemonger grew a hellish grin. "At some point, you must bring her to me."    

Richard grew confused. "What interest is she to you?"

"Do you see... this cheese?" The Monger suddenly had a large piece of white cheese in his hand.    

"Yup." Par replied, intrigued.    

"This cheese is the key to our world's salvation. There are only twenty batches of this cheese made every month. Compared to other cheeses, a very low number-ah." The Cheesemonger inhaled. "This is the rarest cheese on Earth, consumers... treat it with respect." Suddenly, Boogie swooped in, grabbed the cheese from the Monger's hand and consumed it nearly instantly. He grinned, then said "Okay!"    

The Cheesemonger looked at Boogie with disgust, horror, astonishment, and wrath. His yellow teeth showed, and his launched his hand forward - his whitish yellow strings of fingers launched in Boogie's nose, then ears. They extended out of his mouth, bobbing around frantically. "NOOOOOSE-RAAAAAAAAAAPE-AAHHHHHH!" the Monger shouted before retracting his cheesy fingers. "Hah-ah, HAH-ha!"    

"My dear." Richard commented. Boogie fell to the ground. "Well, I suppose you could that poetic justice."

"This particular batch of cheese allows me... certain... control... over its consumers. Unfortunately, a batch of it went missing last month... that is where you come into this story." The Monger continued.    

"Wait... so we ate your godly cheese? Dowut?" Walker joined the conversation.    

"Not you-ah." The Monger replied, "Them... and Kinover-mar-ah."

"Is that how we ended up on the side of a freeway?" Par deduced.    

"Indeed it is, consumers. You see, none of you ate enough for me to fully grasp your consciousness. I could only transport you closer... in the range of my minions. Following that, I managed to mentally communicate with your smelly consumer and allow him to lead you to me."    

"Your minions?" Richard asked.    

"Of course! The Bears... they all serve me."    

"WOT!?" Par shouted.    

"The bears enjoy cheeeese-ah. And I am the MONGER OF CHEEEEESE!" The Monger shouted before looking down grimly. "Eh.... Eueh..... EAUEH..... AAAEEUGH!" The Monger sneezed.

"Bless you." Walker commented.    

"Aaaaaargh! SOMEONE IN HERE HAS IT." The Monger randomly went on a spree of anger until he found Dent. "You.... YOU...... BULLSWISSER!"    

"Hay Baybay."    

"Your hair product.... GHASTLY. It BURNS CHEESE!" The Cheesemonger had a random spasm. "TWAY WITH HIM! TWAY WITH THE BULLSWISSER!" Cheese men took Dent and his women away.    

Richard soon realized he was in quite a mess. Realizing he might need to unleash his psychopathic personality, he searched for beverages. "Scuse me... sir? Do you have anything to drink? A soda vendor, perhaps?" Richard asked.    

"Soda.... aargh!" The Monger groaned again. "WHY DO YOU CONSUMERS... CONSUME SO MUCH BULLSWISS!? Pop drinks eat at our flesh... they burn our insides, damage our bodies like acid!"    

"Well, if it's all the same to you, I could do with a nice burning right now..." As Richard spoke, he saw the Cheesemonger had an idea. "Not... ACTUAL burning... the.... other kind... yeah."    

"This is what we drink." The Monger said before handing Richard a jug of milk.    

"Milk" was Richard's reply.    


"This is a jug of milk." Richard continued.    

"Yes." The Monger nodded.

"...Is the jug of milk... going to help? Richard questioned.    

"If you don't want it, give it back." The Cheesemonger seemed offended.    

"Here you go!" Richard tossed the milk jug at the Monger, who grabbed it and angrily put it away.

"Ungrateful bullswissery." The Monger muttered.

"So! You were explaining to us... why we're here?" Par spoke up.    

"Yes indeed. Cheddar were the days when cheese ruled the world." The Monger replied.    

"Uh... beg pardon?" Walker asked.    

"Cheese influences everything, my dear consumer. It's the reason my bears remain my bears... and not... Maroni's."    

"Wot." Par spoke. "Who?"    

"Nevermind that..." The Monger drove his topic back on course. "You see, everyone loves cheese. It influences us, guides us, makes us who we are... why do you think the allies won World War II? Why Hitler turned on Stalin? Why did he become so mad?"    

"He was a sausage." Richard commented.    

"No... his cheese was rotten."    

"WOT!" Par spoke up, again.   

"The man became too powerful.... he had to be stopped.Any time an organization of uncheesious value reaches the pinnacle of bullswissery, cheese returns to restore good mammoth cheese. Bad cheese always does the trick-ah! And good cheese, too... pristine Swiss cheese made Alan Turing's cracking of the enigma code possible. Cheese... won the war."    

"Fascinating." Par replied.    

"You still haven't told us why we're here. I don't care about your whole cheese revolution stuff, what's going on?" Richard asked.    

"As consumers of the Holy Cheese, I arranged for you to be brought here. You will find the lost shipments of the Holy Cheese and all who consumed them. You will bring it to me and you will be... freed."    

"Well what if we don't want to be your errand boys? What if we want to get the fook outta here?" Richard asked, again.    

"You have no choice. If you do not cooperate... you will be... engulfed in the queso incinerator." The Cheesemonger spoke with passion.    

"Well, that sounds lovely!" Richard replied.

"Some of the Cheese Lords believe that I should engulf you now... but I have decided that you serve a purpose for dairy. If you carry out this purpose, then cheesious mercy shall be granted upon you." The Monger declared.

Suddenly, the Boogie Baby awoke. He snorted some cheese out of his nose and pulled a Dorito out of his armpit... he ate it.    

"Consumer-ah." The Cheesemonger frowned at Boogie, stroking the grated cheese hanging off of his chin. Nearby, there was a cheese person made of Pepper Jack cheese. Boogie was walking toward it.

"This can't be good." Walker said. Instantly, Boogie toppled the creature, not even noticing its existence. He was still barely conscious, and he walked around like a vegetable. He proceeded to stomp over the cheese man and dismember his pieces, ruining him. The Monger was offended, but didn't seem enraged. He casually walked over to Boogie, who randomly pulled a banana out of his rear end and began munching on it. The Monger sighed, then looked aside to a random poster of a Tarantino film.

"How 'ya consumahs doin'? The Monger suddenly took on a new voice as he addressed the entire group, but clearly he was talking to Boog, who grabbed a barrel of cheese nearby and sat on it, still munching on his banana. "Am I cheesin', or did I just ask you a question?"

"We're doin' okay." Boogie replied in a disinterested voice.

"Do you know who we are-ah?" The Monger asked, testing Boogie's consciousness. Boog shook his head. Suddenly, a large man in a suit of armor with a large helmet entered from a side corridor. His face seemed to be partially made out of cheese, like the Monger, be he was unlike the cheese men in that he was seemingly human aside from the contents of his flesh.

"Apologies for being late, sir." The Cheesian spoke. "I had to wrap up a matter with a Cheesian who was not properly disciplined."

"No matter-ah." The Monger replied. "Now, we've got a consumer here who needs a... special treatment." He addressed the poster, and the man understood. "Tell 'em who we are, Colonel."

"We are associates of your... 'business partner,' pepper jack cheese." The Cheese Colonel said. "You remember your partnah, don'tcha?" Boogie didn't answer.

"Now, I'm gonna take a wild guess here... you're the one they call the baby, right?" The Monger asked.

"BayBEEHZ, I call dem all beybayz, baybay, let's just babily say I'm a baykinkbay mah babeh-like salf, but dem all be bihbehs, baybay." Dent responded, returning to the room. Apparently, the Cheesians had patched up his leg and removed SOME of his hair product.

"I don't remember askin' you a Swiss thing." The Monger gestured toward Dent.

"Yeah... I'm Boogie Baby." Boog said.

"Good... and you remember pepper jack cheese, don'tcha? You encountered him only moments ago."

"Uh-huh." Boogie grumbled, still half-awake.

"Good for you. Looks like me and Cheese Colonel caught you at breakfast, sorry 'bout that." The Monger spoke with false cheerfulness and curiosity. "What'cha eatin'?"

"Bananas," was all Boogie could say.

"Bananas." The Cheesemonger agreed. "The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast. What kinda banana?"

"Peppered Banana." Boogie responded, still munching.

"No, I mean where'd ya get 'em?" The Monger asked. "MacDickald's? Wen-dee's? Dick-in-the-box? Where?"

"Well, I got this one from my ass..." Boogie laughed at his own comment and then coughed before resuming, "But I got it from Big Head Banana."

"Big Head Banana... that's the Hawaiian Banana Joint. I heard they got some taasty bananas. I ain't ever tried one myself, how are they?" The Cheesemonger asked.

"Hawaiian!?" Par interrogated. He hadn't been paying attention until now.

"What is it, Bullswisser? Hmm? What will you do now?"

"Did someone say hawaiian punch? Thought I heard it." Par asked.

"No, we did not. Back onto the topic at hand... how are they?"

"They're good." Boogie replied, still eating.

"Mind if I have some of yours?"

"Yes." Boogie seemed agitated.

"Oh really?" The Monger asked.

"Yeah." Boogie seemed neutral.

"Are you sure about that?" The Monger asked.

"Um.. yes..." Boogie seemed frightened.

"You're saying that you'd MIND it..." The Monger continued. Boogie seemed nervous. "if I had some of yours?"

"No..." Boogie seemed scared shitless.

"Yours is this one, right?" The Monger gestured toward Boogie's banana.

"Yeah." Boogie seemed disappointed. He was hungry. Well, he was always hungry... but a guy's gotta eat! Especially obese guys. The Cheesemonger took a bite out of the fruit, and he seemed like he was struggling to keep it in his mouth. He didn't like it.

"Ummmmmmmmm, that's a tasty banana." The Monger said. "Colonel, you ever had a Big Head Banana?"

"No, sir." The Colonel replied.

"You wanna bite? They're reeeal good." The Cheesemonger offered.

"I am not hungry, sir!"

"Well, if you ever want a banana try one sometime. Me, I can't usually eat 'em cause my wife's a cheesetarian... which pretty much makes me a cheesetarian. But I do love me the taste of a niiice banana." The Cheesemonger spit out the banana suddenly. He turned to Boogie and plucked a cheese particle off of his chin. "NOOOOOT." He blurted. "Y'know what we call bananas around our place? Tell 'em, Colonel."

"Bull with Swiss, sir!" The Colonel replied.

"Bull with Swiss. Y'know why we call it that?"

"No." Boogie looked down in horror. He quacked randomly, "AEROUGH!" before looking at the Monger as if he'd done nothing wrong. Then, suddenly, he let out gas from his rear end.

"What was that, Bullswisser?"

"Nothin'..." Boogie grumbled.

"Y'know why we call it Bull with Swiss?"

"Cause it don't go well with cheese?" Boogie guessed.

"Check out dat brain on Boog. You're a smart Bullswissah, that's right. It dudn't go well with  cheese." The Monger then randomly pointed toward a can that was attached to Boogie's belt. He had about five of them. "What's that, consumer?"


"Sprite, gooood. Mind if I have a tasty beverage to wash this down with?" The Monger was just taunting him. Boogie grumbled, but he did hand it over.

"Waddafack is dat!?" Boogie asked,  pointing to the distance. There it was - a fearsome creature. A massive pile of bones strewn together, covered in old, messy cheese and topped with gravy.

"That is Gravy Bones-ah. He was once a Cheesian undercover as a human consumer-ah, but when he ordered at KFC he did not order the macaroni and cheese... thus he was condemned to appear in this form for eternity."

"So... he wasn't always.... kinkyliciously gravy?" Dent asked.

"Nigh... in a better age, he was a Cheesian." The Monger replied.

"Ah... consumers-ah." The creature spoke in a voice similar to one of Bill's impressions. "The dreadful beings-ah. And yet... so easily consumed. Tell me... do ya fear Bill's stench!?"

"Wot?" Par asked.

"Isn't that what your Stench Lord says? I smelled him as soon as you consumables entered the Palace-aaargh!" Gravy Bones spoke.

"Bones! Quiet, Bullswissah!" The Monger ordered.

"The Bones act as the gravy commands-ah!"

"And the gravy is to cover it as commanded-ah! Don't make me revoke your wandering rights. Anyhow... you, flock of bullswissahs!" The Monger addressed the group. "Y'know why I'm havin' this conversation?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm, maybe some nice calculus baybeeh?" Dent asked.

"No..." The Consumer seemed disappointed. "Nooo? You lot are even dumber than your excessive consumption. You, Boogie Baby... where ya got the fruit hid?"

"It's up his arse, I believe, mate." Richard spoke up.

"EAT A DICK, GOLD!" Boogie grumbled. The Cheese Colonel suddenly stuck his limb up Boogie's rear and grabbed some apples and another banana out of it.

"We happy?" The Monger asked.

"We're happy, sir." The Colonel replied, examining the greasy, smelly fruit.

"What was your name again?" Boogie tried to change the subject. "I got your name's the Cheese Colonel... but liyek, wat's yewr name?" Boogie blurted.

"I'm the muthafuckin' Cheesemonger, and you ain't talkin' yo ass outta this shit." The Monger said.

"Please...! Don't hurt me... I just want you to know how sorry I am about how things went with pepper jack cheese... I was barely awake, and... uegh..." Boogie grumbled, but was interrupted when the Monger penetrated Boogie's ear with his cheesy finger.

"I'm sorry... did I break your concentration-ah? I didn't mean to do that at all, consumer... oh? You were done anyway? Alright then... can you describe to me what pepper jack cheese looks like?"


"BULLSWISSAH!" The Monger yelled, retracting his finger from Boogie's ear to inflict some pain. "WHAT COUNTRY YOU FROM?"



"What?" Boogie was petrified. He was so scared he grabbed some of his beard and began trying to eat it.



"THEN YOU KNOW WHAT I'M EATIN'!" The Monger said.


"Then describe to me what Peppah Jack Cheese looks like."

"What?" Boogie grumbled. The Cheesemonger was infuriated. He pulled out a sidearm, but it wasn't a normal gun. He pointed it at Boog.


"Uh..wewnihrbwruweihbcwbc..." Boog was spazzing out, "it's yellowish white!"

"GO ON!"

"It's got little spices in it...."

"Does it look like SHIT!?" The Cheesemonger asked.

"What?" Boog asked, and a blast occurred. The Cheesemonger fired his cheese pistol into Boog's crotch. "AAAWUNT, AAGH! AUGH!" Boogie squirmed.

"DOES IT LOOK... LIKE SHIT!?" The Monger asked.

"NO! EAT A DICK!" Boogie seemed horrified.

"Then why'd ya try to step on it like shit?" The Monger asked.

"I didn't-"

"YES YOU DID! Yes... ya did. And peppah jack cheese don't like to be stepped on by anything 'cept ketchup or mustard. Ya ever read the Bible, Boogie? Well, I don't suppose ya do... but we Cheesians like that kinda stuff. There's a Cheesified passage I memorized... it reads as follows. The path of the cheeseous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the bullswissery of evil fruit. Covered in cream cheese is he who, in the name of cheesity and good mammoth cheese, shepherds the weak through the valley of Blue, for he is truly his cheddar's keeper and the finder of lost swiss. And I will strike down upon thee with great provolone and cheesious anger those who attempt to poison and fruit-smudge my brothers. And you will know my name is the CHEESEMONGAH when I lay my provolone upon you!" The Monger threw down his pistol in anger and reverted to another tactic - he lunged forward at Boogie and sent his fingers into his nose, mouth and ears yet again. "DOOOOOUBLE NOOOOOOSE RAAAAPE-AHHHHHH!!!!"

"MMMMMMMMMMMMM!" Dent was cheering on the conflict.

"Very well then." Par just had a confused expression.

Chapter 10: The Walk Edit


As Boogie was "nose-raped" multiple times for possessing fruit, insulting the Cheesemonger, eating his cheese and even killing a Cheesian, Walker sat nervously on a chair that was golden and decorated with green ribbons. He was trying his best to conceal the true nature of his orange man-pu--, err, bag... but he felt like the Cheesemonger might already know. Well, maybe not... he really had no idea to be honest - he just knew that the Monger probably wouldn't enjoy all the fruits he had hidden in there. He started day-dreaming, thinking back to the time he acquired his bag...


Twas a sunny day in... Florida, he thought? Couldn't remember. Pink shoes strolled across the sidewalk, filled with the feet of a young blue-haired man. Glasses and all, he had his entire set of clothes... except for a bag. Entering a clothing store "covertly," he made his way to the bag section. Just as he nearly picked out a white bag, he was stopped by a rather tall, smelly man. No, he didn't smell BAD... he just... smelled. Probably ten colognes mixed with five hair products and one rather decadent deodorant.

"Nao nao nao nao nao nao nao nao naaaaooooo, baybaaaaya... you dun'wanna get daaaat." The man said.

"Scuse me, sir, who are you?" Walker asked innocently.

"I'm the kinkyliciously kink'd up Dentface.... they call me the Kinkmeister." The man replied, "I'm also a mastah slashah of the seeeeas, beybay."

"Hi..." Walker scrambled, wiggling a bit as he nervously shook the "Kinkmeister's" hand.

"Naow... get rid of that fugleh thang," Dent ordered, grabbing the white bag and sticking on top of the head of one the other customers.

"A-what? I JUST GOT THESE GLASSES AND NOW I STILL CAN'T SEE!!" Yelled the victim, alerting the other civilians nearby. Dent didn't seem to care about this, as he simply searched for "the right bag."

"Sir, what did you just do!? They're calling the authorities!" Walker exclaimed.

"Mah mah mah, baybeeeh...... errrr. KINK!" Dent seemed frustrated. "What in the actual KINK!? THEY DON'T HAVE ANY!!" Dent yelled.

"Wut?" Walker tried to ask, but Dent grabbed him by the arm, used a shoe box to break the store's window and made his way out onto the street.

"We gotta find you an orange bag, BAYBAY!" Dent shouted, charging through the crowd of street-side civilians. Entering another shop casually, Dent introduced himself to the people inside. "I ammm... the kinkylicious slashah of the seeeeeas."

"And, uhh.." Walker began, "I'm Walka."

"WALKA! What a nice name bibeeh. Anywhaayz, we're in need of a smexily dexy bag." Dent narrowed his eyes slightly and opened his mouth a bit as he said this. The man behind the counter wore a Hawaiian shirt, had short, black, combed-back hair with a pen resting comfortably in his ear. Turning around behind the counter and interrupting his toe-clipping, he spoke in a Chechen accent,

"A-what kind are ya looking f--" The owner was cut off..

"We want an orange kinkbox, buhbuh." Dent licked some dripping product off of his lip.

"I got just the thing, brotha." The man grinned, advertising his cheesy yellow teeth, taking his container of Cheezits with him into the back room. Minutes later, he emerged with a large orange pur-- err, bag. At first Walker thought it WAS a purse, but he would eventually grow to love and cherish this bag. He handed it to Dent, then widened his eyes and laid down the... price *plep*

"Mmmmmmm." A sound spawned out of Dent's vocal chords. "Alright, beybeeh, this is just kinkah-great... now, I got's-ta ask, how much?"

"Forty thousand dollars." The owner smiled, his eyes dripping with some sort of green liquid.

"Naow naow naow, beyboy.... surely we can come to some other kind of arrangement......... baybaaaaaaaaaaaay?" Dent leaned in and, once again, licked his lips.

"Excuse me, sir?" The owner seemed confused.

"Some sort of payment I can give ya that ain't.... well..... mula-hula of the kinkylicious currency... ehhhhh? Baybaaaaaaaay?" Dent tried to bargain,

"What? You've got to be absurd, this is incredibly expensive piece!" The owner insisted.

"Hmmmmm.......mmmmmmmmmmmmm," Dent moaned. "I nevah got ya name, beyboi...."

"I am Fred Fredrick, and I don't appreciate you stalling, my guwd sir." Fred became unhappy, tossing his empty Cheezit box in the trash angrily.

"Perhaps I can offa ya something... how bout.... some calcukink?" Dent winked.


"Four hours of calcu-kink and, let's say... twenty dollars for fair compensation, baybay." Dent smiled.

"Calcukink? You jokin?" Fred asked

"I nevah joke..." Dent looked at Fred seriously. "That was a joke? eh? ah? BAYBEEH! BAYHAYHAYHAYHAYHAYHAYHAY...BAY."

"So.... joke?" Fred asked.

"Nao nao nao nao nao.... I'm truthin' bayboybay.... so.. whaddaya say?"

"Huh... give me a moment." Fred turned around, grabbed his phone and made a call. "Yeah? Honey? I'm gonna be late tonight... yep. I've got, uh... cleaning to do! Yup. Bye."

"So, we good beybey? Dent asked.

"Very." Fred replied, handing Dent the bag. Walker was so confused at this point, all he could do was say,

"So confuzzled right now..."

"Tonight at eight?" Fred asked

"Kinky." Dent winked, then followed Walker outside.

"Whellll.... looks like my outfit is complete!" Walker said.

"Tomorrow.... you'll wanna talk about some stuff, beyboy. Around three in the afternoon, come to my van.... I'll reward you lata." Dent said. Walker just raised his eyes, shook his head and began walking away. Long story short, he DID have questions once he sat his bag on a chair upside-down and the bag ATE the chair. It was just.... gone! So, three o'clock the next day, he returned to the store, hoping Dent would be there. Sure enough, a rickety pink van pulled up on the side of the street next to the shop. Out of it wobbled the Kinkmeister himself. "Haaaaay behbey."

"Hey?" Walker crept onto the sidewalk.

"Let's go insiiiide." Dent said, returning to the store. Fred was, again, eating Cheezits.

"Hello, again." Fred greeted them.

"Here's the extra fifty, for what we agreeeeeeed onnnn baybaaaaay." Dent suggested. Fred nodded, pulled a pink comb-looking object from his shelf and handed it to Dent.

"Thank you for doing..... business with m--AAAAAAAGAREGH--BLEUHH!" Fred's blue guts splattered all over the store, onto Dent's face, and into Walker's hair.... hey, added color!

"AHHHH! KINK!" Dent exclaimed. Through the door walked an old, grouchy-looking man in a black suit carrying a large silver weapon. Behind him was a black man, who protested,

"Awwwh... c'mon, man, why'd you have to do that!?" The black man asked.

"He was criminally operating under false claims... sellin' illegally-stolen alien property." The old man said without looking, reaching for the comb. Dent did some trick with his hands and gave him his old comb instead.... somehow the man bought it and put the comb in his pocket.

"Illegally stolen? When is it legal to steal something?" Walker asked.

"None of your business, slick." The old man said, moving everyone outside. "Alright, everyone.... look here." He gathered all the nearby civilians and lined them up, preparing a small flashing device as he and his companion put their glasses on.

"Hay, I ain't fallin' for any of that kink, baybitchbay." Dent protested, stomping up to the man. He grabbed the device. "WHAT THE KINK IS THIS? HUH?" He licked it... then he stroked it.... thoroughly... a few times. Walker just squinted.

"What planet are you from, exactly?" The old man asked. Dent grinned,

"It's called KINKY, BAYBAY!" Dent said, throwing the device out into the street.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, son?" The old man asked. The black man was simply laughing. Dent started licking his palms. This angered the old man, who tried to man-handle Dent.

"HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOIN' BAY-BITCH-FREAKING-BAY!?" Dent spazzed out, shoving the old man back a bit. "CROTCH KICK BAYBAAAAAAY!" Dent promptly knee'd the old man in the crotch, causing him to crouch down.

"Back at you, asshole!" The old man punched Dent in the balls as a response.... this did nothing.

"I'M TOO PIMP FOR PAIN, BEYBOYZ!" Dent exclaimed

"Aargh.... but you're not a ball-chinnian..." the old man groaned.

"Nope... I'M THE KINKMEISTER, BAYBAY!" Dent did a small dance. "FUN BAYBAYZ! FUN BAYBAYZ!" Dent chanted before grabbing the old man's shoe off and clubbing him in the face with it before turning away, throwing Walker in his van and driving off. "Still need to get this thing upgraded..."

"Aaaargh...." The old man stood up slowly, looking to his partner. He said to him, "... we need pie."

Four years later, Walker was making good use of his material-swallowing bag. All was well for the blue-haired man as he flourished, thrived, and blossomed, fitting all sorts of things in his bag to make a profit off of. Once, he even managed to stick a moose in there... that didn't turn out well in the long run, but he still had a great tool. However, just when he bought himself an old blue car, his life temporarily became hell...

Vrrroooooooooom. This is what Walker heard as he zoomed down the highway in his brand new car. All looked well for him until he saw a figure walking toward him in the middle of the road. He started shouting --although he could be heard by no one-- and panicking. "GO EH-WAY! GO EH-WAAAAY" This did nothing, as the figure started running toward him. The man in front of him wore a purple Spiderman shirt.

"SPODERMAN, SPODERMAN... SPODA-MON!!! SPODA-MON!! SPODA-MON..... SPODERMOOOOOOOOOYEEEEEEEEAN!" The figure flung webs at Walker's car, clogging up his wheels and preventing them from rolling. The car flipped in mid-air, and Walker did the only thing he knew to do - find the bag. In about 2 seconds, he launched himself into his orange man-purse, shielding him from the impact of his vehicle slamming top-first into the unforgiving concrete, destroying, ruining, and totaling his vehicle.

"MY CAR!" Walker shouted. He managed to squirm out of the bag, grab it, and escape the car before the figure could attack him again -- he was, of course, assuming the man would attack again.... right? "Go eh-way...." Walker mumbled, wobbling around.

"SPODA-MON!" the man jumped in mid air, then picked his nose.

"DOWUT!" Walker was too dizzy to make out his face, but he realized that the man was preparing several boogers from his nose. He was piling them up on his hand, preparing for an attack. Walker could not tolerate this, so he started grabbing random items from his bag and plucking them at his attacker - a hair-dryer, three sugar cookies, a unicorn statue, even a toy train.... the web-slinger was dodging or blocking all of them. He'd shoot webs at items too, but Walker persisted; a Boba Fett helmet - blocked. An actual hammer - dodged. A dead squirrel - blocked. A live chicken - webbed. It wasn't until Walker flung a single grape at the attacker's head that he went down. Apparently, he failed to see the fruit coming, and it somehow lodged itself into the man's nose. Suddenly, he panicked. 

"I...... I inhaled a GRAAAAPE-AHH!!" The man shook his arms around wildly and his eyeballs spun chaotically as he yelled, "AAAAAUUUUUUAGHHHHERAAAHHHAAAEEEEOUGHHHHHHHHH!!!!", then fell to the ground unconscious. This stuck in Walker's brain - remember! Fruit kills demons!

"Who exactly are you? Who would allow themselves to become such... a... whore!?" Walker shouted at the unconscious man, who woke up shortly after, spazzing out. Walker never could get his face, but he could tell just by the moans and the new body language that he'd instantly changed. The man saw the wrecked car and pointed his hand out at it dramatically.

"Ahhhh... metal." He said, glaring at the totaled blue vehicle. "AAAAAUUUUUUAGHHHHERAAAHHHAAAEEEEOUGHHHHHHHHH!!!!" He tried to make something happen, but it wasn't working.

"DOWUT!" Walker exclaimed before questioning the man, "So.... you're not.... spoderman, anymore?" He asked, preparing more fruit.

"What?" The man spun around chaotically, as if he'd lost control of a bullet that would kill an American president.

"It really was some sort of demon..." Walker deduced. He lowered his fruit. Suddenly, the man looked to his side, breathed in for about 20 seconds, then began running to the side of the road.

"There it is!" He ran over to a dead cat that was lying on the edge of the highway. He looked so delighted to see it, as if he'd found heaven. He "covertly" stuffed the dead house pet in his trousers, then began running the other way.

"Okaiden..." Walker had a "o_O" expression. He was about to go about his way, when he realized - he'd wrecked his car! He ran after the strange man and attempted to gain some sort of compensation for his lost vehicle. "Hey, yew!"

"What?" The man turned around dramatically, removing his hands from his pants. The dead feline created a giant bulge. He didn't face Walker with his face though... his head was turned away while his body faced Walker.

"I require payment you S O B," Walker abbreviated, "you owe me a great deal!"

"I owe you nothing, fool." The man replied, returning his hands to his pants as he turned around to continue walking the other way.

"You asshole!" Walker attacked, grabbing a banana and hitting the man in the rear end with it. Once again, the man turned around... sort of. He held his hand out dramatically. He paused.

"Do you have..." he began, "is that a motorcycle?" He asked


"Do you have a motorcycle inside your bag?" The man asked.

"That ain't none of your business, spoderman." Walker replied. The man clinched his fist and suddenly Walker's bag flew up in the air.

"Metal zipper." The man replied. Suddenly, the bag opened and landed on top of Walker, consuming him. The zipper closed and the bag flew into the man's hand. "Let's take a walk..." he said as he resumed walking, his hands still inside his pants. Walker spent hours inside the bag... he grabbed an orange and hoped for the best. It wasn't until a day later that the bag opened. Walker rushed upward, climbing through various items to reach the top... he was stopped when a bald man in a wheelchair came flying down past him, followed by a drunk with claws coming out of his hands. Finally, a woman with what Walker thought was a reeeeealllly baaaad hairdo flew down past him. The zipper was closing... he couldn't save these people. He did the only thing he could do - escape. He lunged forward, barely fitting through the zipper to jump out

"CURSE YOU, SPODERMAN!" Walker exclaimed, attacking the man with the orange. This startled him. Walker grabbed his bag and fled the scene. He was in some sort of mansion, which he quickly exited. He found a road, but stopped to look at a nearby sign detailing his current location - Charles Xavier's school for ---- Walker was hit by a car.

"HEY MAN, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE WALKIN'!" The driver of the vehicle yelled before driving away.

"WHORE!" Walker shouted, standing up. He noticed Spoderman was exiting the building, so he fled around the street. He made his way behind the mansion and into the back yard, hoping to lose his enemy. However, Spoderman persisted. Walker saw something, though... a small lever on the ground. He pulled it and a giant hover tank began rising out of a hole that had just formed in the ground. "HOOVER TONK!" He shouted. Entering the machine, he learned how to operate it just as Spoderman found him.

"What the hell is--" the man, or "Spoderman" was caught off guard when a missile was launched directly at him. He controlled the metal inside of it to alter its course, but the incident occurred so quickly that the missile hit the ground in front of the man, sending him flying into a tree. The man hit a squirrel, then fell to the ground unconscious. The squirrel left feces on him.

"TAKE THAT, YOU WHORE!" Walker shouted, somehow stuffing the hover tank into his bag. "HOOVER TONK!"


Walker grinned at the memories. However, he was interrupted when the Cheesemonger began talking...

Chapter 11: Assumption and Consumption Edit

The smell of gasoline penetrated the air in the misty, bug-infested cornfield. Nearby was a crashed Jeep. The sheriff stood firmly, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the scene.

"Alright, gentlemen..." the sheriff spoke, a tissue hanging out of his nose, which was red. Mucus was scattered all over his palms. "I know what we got 'ere."

"What's that, sir?" The investigator asked, seemingly exhausted.

"We got a good 'ole fashioned case of saurcery!" The sheriff squiggled, holding in a sneeze for a bit so he could finish his sentence. "gad-dum allergies!"

"Excuse me, sir... what?" The doctor questioned. "Did you just say... saucy?"


"Oh..." The doctor was disappointed. "I'm sorry, sir. Still, though... what did you say?"

"I said SAURCERY!" The sheriff replied.

"Do you mean... sorcery?" The investigator guessed.

"Yessum... that'd be about right, 'ere, son." The sheriff said.

"Sir, there is no such thing as sorcery." The doctor replied. "Magic is not real!"

"AAARRRRRNT!" The sheriff quacked. "Ye'll be shuttin' yer trap, son, I know what did this..."

"What's that, sir?" The investigator asked, still exhausted.

"THOSE GODDAMN MAFIANS! And their dad-gum beef stew-eating bears..." The sheriff responded. "We best be followin' this trail before these Hydra folks get outta hand..."

"Very well." The doctor seemed unsure whether he wanted to go through with it or not, but he followed the sheriff. The sheriff, investigator, doctor, and about five policemen scavenged through the cornfield until they reached the end of it. They found themselves at a large lake.

"Aight." The sheriff quacked before a sneeze. "There's a cabin. Talk to 'em." The investigator knocked on the door of the old, wooden shack. The gang had ignored it during their travels, however it was quite apparent now that the authorities would investigate it. Eventually, an old, withered man came to the door. His hair was weak, hoar, and stringy, while his beard seemed well-kept.

"Excuse me, sir, are you alright?" The investigator asked.

"Indeed." The elderly man replied. "What is... what is the cause for such commotion?"

"We're on the lookout for some very dangerous criminals. How you noticed anything or anyone... odd, lately?" The investigator continued.

"Yes..." The old man hesitated.

"Yes? What did you encounter?" The doctor asked.

"You." The old man's eyes addressed the investigator and the doctor. "I've not seen people here for years. Get off my property, go back in the ocean."

"Excuse me, sir?" The doctor began to study him. "I think he's suffering from some sort of mental disorder. He believes we came from the ocean!"

"How dare you?" The man somehow heard this comment. "I am no fool, fool."

"My apologies, sir." The doctor replied.

"Sir, I highly suggest you take another chance to tell us if anyone unusual has happened." The investigator pleaded. "Our evidence puts dangerous murderers near your property." The old man walked out of his home. His bare feet made splashing noises in the mud every time he made his slow, steady steps. He looked around. It took him a moment to realize,

"My boat's gone!"

"What?" The doctor asked. The investigator immediately began writing something down, and the sheriff approached the scene.

"I know what did this..." The sheriff said. "Mafians."

"I have no earthly or oceanly idea what that means, but my boat was tightly secured. It must have been taken!" The old man replied.

"We'll help you reacquire it." The investigator volunteered.

"I do not need your help." The old man replied. "I know beings who will help me with such a thing. For now, please... leave."

"I'm afraid we can't do that..." The sheriff was about to address the man as "son," but he quickly stopped due to the fact that the man was quite old. "geezer."

"It is not up for debate." The old man declared. "I will handle this using my own methods. Good day, sir!" The old man shooed them off.

"I'm afraid it ain't that simple, geeza." The sheriff replied.

"No." The old man replied quickly, "it is. Good day, sir!"

"I'm afraid..." The sheriff was agitated to the point of letting mucus drip down his shirt unattended now, "It ain't."

"My good sir..." The old man began. "I'm quite terribly sorry, but, in fact, reasonably, coincidentally, quite literally... it is. Good day, sir!"

"I'm afraid..." The sheriff's face was red now, "it sure as hell AIN'T, buttafingah! Why don't you just calm down now and we'll have a nice talk 'bout all this junk, aight?"

"Hmph!" The old man grew stiff and proceeded to reach for a long, wooden... STICK! Orr, staff... rather... something of the sort. It began glowing a strange yellow color.

"SAURCERY!" The sheriff reconfigured himself violently, shivering intensely for a split second before swiftly turning around and lunging away, landing face-splat in the dirt.

"HANDS IN THE AIR!" The investigator burst out, revealing a sidearm and pointing it at the man. This did nothing. The old man whipped his "staff" forward, launching a giant orb of supernatural energy at the investigator...

"GOOD DAY, SIR!" ... the investigator was launched through the air and all the way into the cornfields.

"HEY YOU, STOP!" One officer said while another joined him in pointing firearms at the old man, who once again, flung energy at them.

"GOOD DAY, SIR! GOOD DAY, SIR!" ... the two cops were launched through the air and all the way into the cornfields.

"Wait!" The doctor seemed confused. "I mean you no harm, sir! Please!" This did nothing, as the old man persisted.

"GOOD DAY, SIR!" ... the doctor was launched through the air and all the way into the cornfields.

"WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON!?" Another officer asked, attempting to flee the area... this did nothing, as the old man, once again, shot a blue orb at him.

"GOOD DAY, SIR!" ... another officer was launched through the air and all the way into the cornfields.


Meanwhile, in the Grand Cheese Palace...

"Gobble gobble gop..." Boogie grumbled, waking up from his last nose-raping. "Eat a diiick,"

"Silence, bullswisser!" The Cheesemonger ordered, turning around to face Boogie. He had been discussing something with the Cheese Colonel. "You murdered two of my beloved Cheesians... no consumer has done such a thing without proper punishment."

"Sprite." Boogie pulled a can from his belt and consumed it.

"Make way and come hither, consumers." The Cheesemonger said, signaling for the group to follow him. They were, of course, not given a choice - crowds of cheese people "escorted" them in a violent manner. Bill had twelve Cheesians holding him down as they slowly pushed him forward. They all followed the Cheesemonger through a corridor which led into a large circular room. Inside the room were eight pedestals, each holding a floating piece of white cheese.

"Finally, some CHEESE!" Par seemed agitated at the lack of cheese he'd been offered.

"OH MY GOD, I'M SO HUNGRY!" Boogie shouted.

"Do you see... this... cheese?" The Monger asked.

"UH-HUH." Boogie violently responded.

"Tonight, all eight of you will become consumers of the Holy Cheese." The Monger said.

"Sounds like quite a good time." Richard remarked.

"MMMMM... my slavewomen love dem some nice cheese baybey." Dent said.

"Ahem..." The Cheesemonger got the attention of the group. "Once you consume the Holy Cheese, I will gain a certain... control over you. It is what allowed me to transport you closer to the Palace."

"Dowut?" Walker asked.

"Even I don't fully understand the magic... all I know is that it was passed down to me through generations of Cheesiness." The Monger replied. "Continuing... my Cheese men cannot step foot on land, and my bears wouldn't be that.... subtle. I will require the lot of you to run my errands."

"What errand, exactly, would that be, then?" Par asked.

"You will find the lost batches of the Holy Cheese and bring them back to me."

"How exactly will we get back?" Richard asked, still confused.

"The same way I transport you there, of course!" The Monger explained. "Now that all is explained, you may feast." The Monger declared. Instantly, Boogie found himself a giant chunk of cheese and started digging in. Each of the group members proceeded to claim a pedestal, eating cheese simultaneously. Par ate casually while Dent munched loudly. Richard and Walker took their time. Just as the Cheesemonger was about to exit the room to attend to other matters, he halted when he sensed a disturbance. Suddenly, Boogie pushed Walker away from his cheese. It appeared the Consumer of All Things had finished his serving and was ready for more.

"Go eh-way!" Walker ordered. However, Boogie persisted. He instantly ate what Walker hadn't and then lunged at Bill, knocking him away. Bill made robotic noises as he was thrown to the side.

"Jedi SCUM!"

"SHUT THE FACK UP, BILL!" The fat Boogie went in for more, consuming Bill's section. He threw Richard aside,


"MMMMMM," Boogie ate Richard's cheese too, entering an enraged cheese-induced rampage. He shoved Par away, but Par retaliated with a broken piece of a desk. Boogie, however, ate that too, before proceeding to feast on Par's cheese.

"Sir?" The Cheese Colonel asked, witnessing the incident. The Cheesemonger sighed.

"Why are these consumers so difficult?" The Monger asked.

"I am not sure, sir!" The Colonel addressed the Cheesemonger, "shouldn't we contain this bullswisser?"

"Yes." The Monger replied. "The question is... in what way?"

"Shall we send the bullswisser to the incinerator?" The Colonel asked.

"No..." The Monger said.


"Nigh." The Cheesemonger thought for a moment, then turned directly toward the Colonel. "We shall send him to The Nest..."

"Very good, sir!" The Cheese Colonel replied, drawing a grin. Suddenly, tons of Cheesians were ordered to contain Boogie. The first few, he ate. However, enough of the Cheesians arrived and immobilized Boogie. The dragged him away.

"Where are you takin' my Boogie Baby, baybayz?" Dent asked.

"He's being taken to The Nest." The Cheese Colonel explained.

"MMMMMMM," Dent replied, "KIINKY."

"Colonel, bring these consumers some more cheese." The Cheesemonger demanded.

"Yes, sir!" The Colonel said. About 20 minutes later, the group had finished their cheese. They all stood about.

"AAAEEEOUGH," Boogie grumbled, returning. On auto-pilot, he plucked another can of Sprite from his belt and began slurping.

"He just got out of The Nest, sir!" The Cheese Colonel stated. "Should we send him to the Incinerator now?"

"No..." The Monger replied. "Lord Crow never likes his victims killed after he's through with them. He likes to watch them from the skies, studying the changes in their well-being...s...." The Cheesemonger grew distracted when he saw someone approaching.

"Sir!" The Cheese Colonel had just briefly spoken with the man approaching. For the first time since the Cheesemonger nearly made him eat a banana, the Colonel's yellowish-white face was that of a man trapped in distress. He seemed to know something bad was about to happen. "Mr. Maroni would like to speak with you, sir!" The Monger looked quite agitated.

"Maroni!" The group couldn't tell if this was a yelp of happiness or frustration coming from the Cheesemonger. The Monger promptly turned around to face the man.

"Monger..." was all that the man said. He was a large, fat, Italian-ish Cheesian. He was humanoid, like the Monger and the Colonel, and he wore a fancy leather jacket.

"JEDI!" Bill addressed Maroni.

"What are you doing here?" The Monger asked, "You should be downstairs in the Lords' chambers."

"Hmmph!" Maroni replied. "As Minister of Communications, I come to you with important information... you should show me more respect!"

"Spit it out, then." The Cheesemonger replied.

"The old man in the shack has reported several bullswissers roaming about the area. He said he took care of them, but that they will be back with more consumers and bullswissers alike." Maroni said.

"What kind of bullswissers?"

"The authorities."

"What? How could you allow this to happen!?" The Cheesemonger shouted.

"Me?" Maroni seemed offended. "You're the one leading this pointless crusade over returning a lost batch."

"It is the HOLY CHEESE-ah!" The Cheesemonger exclaimed. "You have connections in the authorities, surely you could do something about this."

"There is only so much I can do." Maroni replied.

"It matters not... they cannot get to us." The Monger stated.

"Let us hope." Maroni said. "I don't trust you to contain this, so I will send my own bears to help contain the inconvenience."

"Begone, bullswisser! Tway!" The Cheesemonger attempted to shoo Maroni away.

"How dare you!?" Maroni asked. "I am Maroni Macaroni, a High Cheese Lord!"

"The fact that you are a Cheese Lord is not germane to the situation!" The Monger said.

"Germans?" Maroni Macaroni scoffed. "They make awful cheese!"

"GerMANE-AH!" The Monger said. "Increase your vocabulary!"

"VAAAAUGH!" Maroni shouted in frustration. The Cheesemonger dismissed this and turned back to the group.

"Have they all eaten enough of it?" The Monger asked.

"No-" Boogie butted in, requesting more food. Clearly, he was still exhausted from whatever this "Lord Crow" had done to him. He burped, sending the aroma of Sprite through the air. However, Bill raised his arm and his stench quickly took over.

"Gentlecheese..." The Cheesemonger began, "Please silence this consumer." A squad of Cheesians quickly put a strap of cheese over Boog's mouth. He gobbled, but was unable to speak properly. "Colonel?"

"They've all had plenty of the Holy Cheese, sir!"

"A waste..." The Cheesemonger said.

"It is necessary, though, is it not, sir?"

"A necessary waste but a waste nonetheless..." The Monger replied.

"Tis not a waste!" Dent interrupted. "That cheese was kinkah-great!"

"Enough." The Cheesemonger declared. "Now, it is time for your teleportation."

"Where are you sending them?" Maroni Macaroni asked.

"Bullswissah! I told you to begone with yourself!"

"I will do no such thing!" Maroni replied. Again, the Cheesemonger dismissed him.

"I'm sending them to the third shipment of the lost batch."

"Ahhhh." The fat Cheesian seemed amused. "Good luck." He said, stepping back as the Cheesemonger flung his hands outward.

"Dowut..." Walker seemed confused.


"I'm going to commit suicide..." Par said.

"Again?" Richard asked.

"Yep." Par replied.

"Silence!" The Monger ordered. "Momentarily, you will all be where you need to be... I'll have bears watching you in case you try anything funny. Find the Holy Cheese... once that happens, you'll be transported back."

"How will we know where to look?" Richard asked.

"One of my bears will send you instructions... now, BY THE POWER INVESTED IN ME BY THE GREAT CHEESY ANCESTORS... I SAY, BEGONE, BULLSWISSERS!" The Monger yelled. Suddenly, Richard, Par, Bill, Walker, Boogie, Dent, and his women were all gone.

Chapter 12: Wankery Edit


It was a cold evening in an unknown location. Six men and two women lied on the side of a street. The surroundings consisted of several buildings, some of which had turned on their lights for the night. Very few cars drove by as the eight of them remained unconscious. However, pedestrians could be seen frequenting shops and casually walking through the American town, city, or whatever it was. The hour was about 7:00 at night, and the "modern city smell" set a relaxing tone.

The group was decently separated from each other on the ground... except for Dent. His women were on top of him, eerie smiles on their faces as the sound of Dent snoring didn't seem to wake them. Bill's stench was apparent, but his pits were covered, stopping most of it. It wasn't until a loud roar occurred that any of them woke up.

"BEEEEEAR!" Walker shouted, bursting upward. His glasses were crooked and his hair was messy.

"Ahhhhhhh." Par stretched, emitting a scratchy sound. He stood up. "Night time... Pary loves it!"

"Shut your trap!" Richard shouted, not opening his eyes. He seemed comfortable enough sleeping on the concrete.

"I SAID BEEEEEEAR!" Walker shouted, pointing at the bear that was standing in front of them.

"MMMMMMMM!" The Kinkmeister groaned, "KIIINK!"

"BLOODY SAUSAGES!" Richard grumbled in frustration, standing up and immediately walking at a fast pace. He didn't seem to see where he was going, though, as he nearly ran right into the bear. "Oh."

"See what happens when you rush? Idiot!" Walker insulted.

"KINK KINK KIIIIIIINK!" Dent summoned his women, who promptly stood up at this command. Shortly after that, the bear dropped a large piece of parchment on the ground in front of Richard, then turned and began running the other way.

"THAT'S RIGHT, RUN AWAY! GO EH-WAY YOU WHOOOOORE!" Walker shouted at the bear. This did nothing. Richard squinted at the note.

"Alright, gentleman..." Richard began... his explanation was delayed, however, when Boogie woke up.

"I NEED FOOOOOOOD!" Boogie blurted, scrunching forward to stand up for one second before falling on his front. He proceeded to attempt and drag himself across the concrete, moving toward a pizza shop in the distance.

"That's not going to get you anywhere, Boogie." Par said.

"You know where there's lots of food?" Boog asked randomly.

"Eh?" Par didn't seem interested.

"My house." Boogie grumbled.

"And I give a care because...?" Walker asked.

"My house is nice! It's poofy." Boogie replied.

"And I care because...?" Walker, again, asked.

"It has lots tuh eat! And it's cluttered... that means it's homey!"

"And I give a care because?" Walker asked.

"Par." Boogie said plainly. There was silence... thirty seconds passed.

"I don't think he heard you beybeeh." Dent commented between his delicate licks of his women's faces.

"Par." Boogie grumbled. Still, there was no response. "Par." Boogie continued. "Par. Par. Par."

"Eeergh." Was Par's response.













"PAR PAR PAR PAR PAR PAR PAR PAR PAR PAR," Boogie continued, while Par simultaneously responded with a quick "EEERGH" to each of Boogie's quacks. "PAR, EERGH" occurred for about one minute before Dent intervened.


"PAR WON'T ANSWER MEEEE!" Boogie complained, pouting. There was silence. Meanwhile, Richard looked as if he was near death by agitation. Suddenly, Boogie said "PAAAAAR!"

"EEEEEEEEEEARGH!" Par blurted, losing his patience. "Boogie Baby, you're a wankwad and you will spend an eternity in hunger!"

"Par." Boogie ignored Par's comment.

"WOT." Was Par's new response.

"You should come to my house." Boogie suggested.

"That's what the rapists say." Par replied.

"MY BED ONLY HAS ROOM FOR ONE!" Boogie acted as if this information should have been obvious, yelling it out randomly.

"Doesn't mean you couldn't rape me..." Par squinted.

"IT'S A HOSPITAL BED, SO EVEN IF I RAPED YOU, YOU'D BE FINE, CAUSE IT'S A FOOGIN' HOSPITAL BED!" Boogie shouted. Par facepalmed, and resumed ignoring Boogie. Unfortunately, Boogie's shouting was apparently loud enough to wake Bill up.


"CURSE YOU, SPODERMAN!" Walker instinctively reacted, throwing a banana at Bill. This time, though, he caught it and proceeded to toss it on the ground lazily.

"SPIDAMAN, SPIDAMAN! DOES WHATEVUH A SPIDA CAN!" Bill said as Walker was infuriated.

"CURSE YOU, SPODERMAN! GO BACK TO DEAD CATS!" Walker, again, threw fruit at Bill, but it was dodged.


"WHOOOOOORE!" Walker threw more fruit in rage.

"SPIDAMAN......... SPIDAMAN..... SPIDAMAN... SPIDAMAN SPIDAMAN SPIDAMAN SPIDAMAN," It wasn't until Walker threw an orange at Bill's face mid-sentence that anything changed. Being hit by the fruit, Bill shook his arms around chaotically and spun, erupting in a long scream "SPIDAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHN" As he yelled, he threw his hands in the air and shook them around wildly. He was also spinning, which caused him to find his way toward Boogie.

"SHUT THE FACK UP, B--!" Boogie was interrupted as Bill came crashing on top of him. Falling to the ground, it took the two a moment to respond.

"" Bill fell unconscious. Suddenly, Boogie stood up, panicking.

"AHHHHHH! BILL TOUCHED MEEEE! GEEEEEERMS!" Boogie patted his chest a few times and then spun around. Shortly after that, he began running around chaotically. Par began laughing. Richard looked furious.

"BLOODY DAMNED FOOKIN' SAUSAGES!" Richard drew his hidden pistol and shot the closest person he saw --one of Dent's women-- in the foot. Dent took a moment to process what happened... as did Richard! He grinned, as if firing the gun had relieved him in some way. He frowned, however, when he saw Dent's face, which was hot, red, and steamy.

"MY SLAVEWOMAN!" The Kinkmeister was in shock. "YOU BAYBITCHBAY!" He separated himself from his arm women and, despite his lifeless foot, began running toward Richard.

"Oh." Richard responded, taking time to put his firearm away before effortlessly dodging the kinky rampage, who ended up slamming into Boogie instead. Richard walked over to them and proceeded to grab a can of Sprite from Boogie and then walk away. As Boogie began doing something strange with Dent's shoulders, Richard casually strolled through the cluster of madness and cracked open his beverage. "Fifth best relative of the doctor is Sprite..." Richard said, retreating into a nearby shop. He stole a random man's wallet and used the money to purchase a pack of salted crackers. He began munching and exited the shop, only to find the entire group staring at him... except for Bill, who was on the ground. "Well, go on then... say your pieces."

"You baybitchbay!" Dent shouted. "You shot.... you shot my baybay!" Dent replied.

"Well..." Richard seemed to be out of ideas... until he took a big drink of the Sprite and threw it down on the ground... it was empty. Now with a free hand, he reached into Walker's bag and grabbed the first thing there - an apple. "As a formal apology from yours truly... have an apple!" Richard handed Dent the apple. Dent seemed to consider the offer.

"Just don't do it again, baykinkbay. If you do... I'll kink you up!" Dent said.

"Never!" Richard raised his eyebrows. "Now that I have your attention, sausages... the note. So, apparently, the Cheese man has bears patrolling this entire city."

"And what city is that, exactly?" Walker asked.

"That's not important!" Richard replied, "don't even know anyway... but at least I know why the hell we're here."

"About bloody time you shut up about that." Par said.

"What about shutting up about my sausages?" Richard asked.

"That too!" Par grinned.

"I won't be shutting up about either, then!" Richard spited.

"Just because I'm your cousin doesn't mean I won't rape you, Gold." Par's eyes grew wide for a moment.

"You couldn't if you tried." Richard replied.

"Don't push yer luck." Par remarked.

"Wait... didn't you guys say you were brothers?" Walker asked. Richard and Par both froze for a second.

"Irrelevantly unimportant, my dear friend. Now, allow me to explain why the hell we're here." Richard changed the subject, "The... erm... 'Cheesemonger' wants us to find some cheese shipments and return them to him. He also wants anyone who ate said cheese."

"How exactly do you plan on kinkin' up dem cheese-eaters and fetchin' dis cheese, bibeeh?" Dent asked.

"There are locations with coordinates listed here." Richard replied. "Oh dear..."

"Wot" - Par

"Wut" - Walker

"Waot" - Boogie

"Eh, baybay?" - Dent

"It would seem our first stop will be an entertainment store...." Richard seemed unhappy.

"And?" Walker insisted.

"Don't rush me, twat!" Richard shouted in frustration. Suddenly, there was a disturbance...

"THIS IS BORING!!" Boogie blurted, sticking his tongue out. He turned toward a pizza shop in the distance... again. "I WANT FOOOOOD!" Unfortunately, Boogie's voice was, again, enough to wake Bill up.

"DAMN YOU, BOOGIE MANGOOOOOOOOOO-AH!" Bill yelled in his fish-like voice as he shook his chin and beard around wildly.

"SHAT THE FACK UP, BILL!" Boogie grumbled without even facing Bill.

"You.... your.... your voice and noises-ah! They make me want to go back to me own locker and back... twice-ah! Only to give up steak, land and sea... and it feels like one of those terrible days where even my.... P-ussy is gone-ah! A dried out dick is what you'll get, Mr. Boogie."

"WAOT." Boogie snorted.

"Silence, sausages!" Richard shouted. "Apparently, we're supposed to head to an entertainment store to pick up some cheese. God knows why it's there of all places, but I don't exactly feel like asking bears any questions. Either get your bloody arses up and follow me, or the bears will eat you. You choose!"

"I want to go wherever there's food. Erunt." Boogie grumbled.

"Boog, not in the mood for your shite." Richard stuffed the paper in his pocket and began walking along the sidewalk.

"What's wrong, baybeeh? You seem konk'd up into the kinkehlicious rage, behebeh." Dent commented.

"The entertainment store is owned by a rather unpleasant sausage that Par and I encountered long ago, apparently..." Richard replied.

"What's this-ah!?" Bill asked in his fish-like voice. His eyebrows were high and his stance stiff. "And what would prompt such an act of knowing a soul-ah!?"

"Um..." Richard seemed confused. "What's he trying to say?"

"He's wondering why you and Par here seem to know everyone, perhaps?" Walker had his arms crossed, and he was prepared for his march.

"Irrelevantly unimportant to an absurd degree, my dear blue-haired friend. Now, theoretically, if this is the same Blake Stewart that I met on a sailing voyage, we'll be in for a very... VERY sausage-y time."

"Sailing voyage-ah?" Bill seemed interested. "The sea is my love.... it is the one thing that stays with me through my many errands and pussy-lickings-ah... I AM the sea." Bill finished his short commentary.

"Nevermind that..." Richard sighed, "just be prepared for major sausagery."

"Wait... I KNOW DIS PLACE BEYBEEH!" Dent suddenly burst into an explanation. "I don't remember the name, but I know some Spanish mechanics in this town. They'll be mula-hula helpful if we provide them some of the kinkylicious currency, ehhhh, beybeehs?"

"Not even sure what he's talking about, so I'm going to ignore it." Richard dismissed Dent's comments.

"Uhm... wait!" Walker intervened. "We could use some help.... jussayin."

"Is that what he's saying?" Richard paused, then looked to the others for an answer. He figured the answer was "yes," so he said "Alright then! Sounds great, we'll head right there. I love having minions."

"Erm... hold on a minute." Par looked up to the sky as he spoke.

"What is it now?" Richard asked.

"Considering our friend Bill here is still stuck with women's clothing and quite a few of us are dirtied, injured, or worse..." Par looked at Dent with a concerned expression, "we might need to consider stopping somewhere to acquire more gear."

"MMMMMMMM," Dent commented. "I could use some good kinkin' up about now, beyboiz" Dent smiled.

"Very well then... we make for a shop!" Richard declared.

"FUN, BEYBEHS!" Dent signaled his women to begin marching forward. They were flanked by Walker and Boogie as they followed Richard's lead. Shortly behind them were Par and Bill. The group walked out of the backstreets and into a busier part of town. Automobiles whizzed aside the six men and two slavewomen as the bundle of insanity sought out a proper store whilst making proper use of the sidewalks.

"Ahh... civilization-ah." Bill began, looking up as his eyes stared dreamily at the various buildings. "After a week in isolation... and it feels great!"

"Oh, no..." Richard appeared frustrated.

"GAWLD!!" Boog squawked, grabbing a banana peel from a nearby dumpster and instantly consuming it as he attempted to communicate verbally. "SHUT HIM UP!"

"I was going to attempt such a thing, however your preference persuades me to ignore it and fork you in the nipple!" Richard glanced back at the Boogie Baby as he said this, his eyes briefly widening and a short smile appearing on his face.

"But in truth, solitude is my love..." Bill continued rambling, stretching his neck to allow his beard to fluctuate as he wiggled his chin, "but so is pussy-ah. I love them both equally."

"We might not last long out here in the open." Par pointed out. "According to the search engine Google operating on the Iphone I just pick-pocketed from that rather delicate elderly fellow over there, some of us are wanted."

"Wait... what do you mean some of us?" Richard asked.

"Obviously I'm the most wanted individual here. The women follow me. Gobble gobble gop." The Boogie Baby blurted.

"Just no, Boog... just... no." Walker squinted.

"To answer my dear comrade's question, it appears they only identified you and I at the crime scene. They found traces of prints but were unable to identify them due to... Cheeto residue." Par continued.

"Wot?" Richard made a confused face.

"They matched prints to two others, but were unable to match them to anyone known." Par explained.

"I erased all traces of my existence when I traveled to the magical land of 00d where I served under Headmaster Doobledore." Walker entered the conversation, still marching his knees upward with each step he took. He never seemed to tire from it.

"Okay... whatever that means." Richard shrugged off the randomness. "what about Dent and Bill?"

"I'm too pimp for I.D., baybayz." Dent explained.

"Nothing on Bill, but they did find matches for Tom Hardy and Tom Hiddleston... both of them were arrested." Par smirked.

"Two actors whose initials are T.H. - that can't be a coincidence!" Richard barked.

"Who knows." Par scrunched his lower lip. "Either way, just be glad it's not us in jail"

"Eh, once we establish safe contact, just touch base with Headquarters and get all of this erased." Richard said confidently. There was silence as the group strolled across the sidewalk. Suddenly, Richard realized most of them had no idea what he meant. "Erm..."

"Dowut?" Walker asked.

"Figure of speech, old sport." Richard nodded, grinned, and continued. Unfortunately for the group, they nearly passed a Big Head Banana restaurant.

"I SMELL FOOOOOOD!" Boogie yelled and ran inside.

"The Hawaiian banana joint?" Walker asked.

"It would seem so." Richard replied.

"KIIINKEH." Dent commented. The group could see Boogie inside stealing someone's banana. Shortly after that, he was --luckily-- thrown out by the staff. "Boogie Baybeeh, that's not how you go about these things beyboy."

"Shut the fack ahp, Dent." Boogie grumbled.

"My dear Boogie Baby, how rude you are!" Richard commented.

"I'm going to commit suicide..." Par commented impatiently.

"Again?" Richard asked.

"Erm.... excuse me?" Walker entered the conversation again. "Again? Dowut?"

"Figure of speech, ya wank." Par jabbed.

"Dowut?" Walker seemed confused.

"Alright, beyboiz, listen up..." Dent began, "we ain't stoppin' til we get to a nice market for kinks. Kay, baybais?"

"Aye, that be true." Richard replied before anyone else could. "Go on, then! To the south! Quick march!" As the group navigated through more streets, they were stared at and even approached by a few hobos. Bill saw a cat store and nearly stopped there, but he was dragged away by Par and forced to follow the group.

"Yer a dried out fish!" Bill jabbed. For this group, venturing through the stores and streets was more awkward than traveling to a supernatural tower of cheese. They passed a large window which mirrored the lot of them. They hadn't seen a mirror in quite some time.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S ME!" Boogie said randomly. Nobody knew what this meant, so they ignored it.

"MMMMMMM," Dent produced a sound from his vocal chords, "I'm very smexily dexy, beyboyz."

"Alright, sausages..." Richard silenced the wankery when he found a suitable store.

"What now, then?" Walker asked.

"Now... we shop." Richard replied.

Chapter 13: Gearing Up and Kinking Up Edit

The group entered the market. The time was about 9:23 PM and there weren't many customers roaming about. The shop was a sort of superstore, --in that it had a bit of everything-- although it wasn't that big. To the right was a clothing section. To the left, drink machines lined the wall while small snacks scattered the area nearby. Further in the store was a section dedicated to phones, weather machines, and hair-driers.

Dent entered first, introducing himself. "I am the kinkylicious slashah of the seeeeas... I'm also a smexily dexy meister of the kink, a-baybay." his women smiled "for the audience" as Dent basked in his "smexily dexiness."

Immediately, Boogie made his way to the food section and loaded about eight cracker packs into his pockets before locating the chip rack. He opened a bag and consumed it nearly instantly, licking the salt off of his lips as he saw an approaching employee. shoving his stomach into view even more, he turned to the man, who was walking toward him.

"These all the chips ya got?" Boog asked, referencing the chip stand he was currently raiding.

"Err- I'm afraid so," the worker responded, "and I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you not to eat in the store." The assistant was a tall gentleman with a ball cap and a small mustache. He had a plain white shirt with a name tag and a tight collar. He was the only employee visible to the group aside from the man at the counter in the back of the store, --something Richard found quite odd, which prompted him to seek out said counterman with questions as Boog caused an issue up front-- who wore a similar outfit.

"And why's that?" Boogie asked, seemingly offended. "I'm hungry."

As this occurred, Richard spoke to the man at the counter. "Do you have any Dr. Pepper?" he asked.

"Pepsi okay?" The man asked. He had the same shirt as the other assistant, however he possessed no mustache nor a hat. Instead, he had short brown hair and a general exhausted attitude.

"No, Pepsi is most certainly NOT okay!" Richard replied. "If I wanted Pepsi I could've easily acquired it myself at your drink section which my comrade is... staring.... intently at..? Nevermind that, anyhow, I suspected you might have a secret supply."

"I'm afraid we don't have any Dr. Pepper, sir." The man replied.

"But you see, I can already use a fork, I need to become the Agent of Chaos." Richard said. This sent the counterman into a strange seizure-like state where his eyebrows crunched downward as his nose squeezed itself up.

"Ex...cuse me?" the checker asked.

"Bloody useless sausage." Richard sighed and turned away.

"We have sausage!" The man raised his eyebrows.

"Of course you do, sausage!" Richard shouted back in frustration, walking away from the man and toward Boogie's predicament.

"You are frightening other customers, sir." The employee with a hat addressed Boogie. "Also, three of your fellow shoppers do not have proper clothing." The man gestured toward Dent, one of his women, (the other having possessed Bill's Spiderman costume some time ago) and Bill.

"Something that has been bothering me for QUITE some time!" Richard chimed in. He promptly began removing his jacket.

"Um... sir?" The employee seemed confused as Richard threw his suit at Dent's arm woman - the one still wearing a bikini.

"MMMMMMM." Dent appreciated this. "That'll look kink kank konky on you beybei. Put it on." Dent's woman promptly separated from him briefly whilst putting on Richard's suit before returning her hands to his arm. "Kink."

"Alright, Johnny and Bill-" Richard was interrupted

"I prefer DENT, beiboi... don't forget." Dent interrupted.

"DENT and Bill!" Richard corrected, "you need more clothes. Now." Richard directed them toward the clothing section, taking matters into his own hands. As he did this, he saw that Par was still staring intently at the drink section whilst Walker ran around the store stuffing random items into his bag.

"GOBBLE GOBBLE G-G-G-GOP!" Boogie quacked, consuming his third bag of chips before sticking four more them beneath his beard. The employee resumed his attempts,

"Sir, I must remind you that you're disturbing other customers." As the man said this, a short woman with messed up hair and clothes that seemed fit for an old lady slowly made for the exit, an un-purchased "Shirtless Edition" Harry Potter doll in her hand as she held her arms together like she was cold, exiting the building.

"Hey, wait!" The employee realized she never paid for her item. He opened the door and yelled at her. "Hey you! Stop!" He proceeded to run after her.

"Well, that escalated quickly." Par mumbled for the first time, not even looking away from the drink section. Finally, he located what he was looking for - a "Special" flavor of Hawaiian Punch. He grabbed one bottle and placed it in his coat pocket. "Now, some scissors!" He continued his shopping, as did Boogie, who, in Par's absence, made his way to the drink section. He resupplied his belt with Sprite and then stuffed a container of chocolate milk in his pants. Randomly, Walker exited the store.

Meanwhile, in the clothing section...

"MMMMMM. THIS IS KINKYLICIOUSLY KINKEH." Dent found a coat he liked.

"Uh... that's the women's section." Richard pointed out.

"FACK THE PINGAS!" Dent threw the item down.

"This will do..." Richard grabbed a black jacket and put it on. "I can't believe I'm settling for this, though..." Richard complained.

"Why not, beybeeh? I think that looks smexily dexy." Dent replied.

"If I had a Dr. Pepper, I'd be purchasing that purple longcoat over there." Richard responded.

"Hwhat's this-ah?" Bill asked, viewing women's shoes. Randomly, Walker returned.

"Billy baybay, put those down and find yourself something for your chest behboi." Dent suggested. Bill made his way to the coats. He found a tan trench coat.

"Nice coat-ah." Bill remarked. He searched for a price, but the string that the pricetag was supposed to be attached to was ripped.

"What about this one?" Richard asked, showing Bill a rather normal looking bright blue shirt.

"Go!" Bill spat. "And take that infernal thing with you... I will not have it on my body-ah!"

"Really?" Dent asked. "Cause I will, baybay." He grabbed the shirt and put it on. He proceeded to put on a bright pink puffy winter coat before making his way to the phone section. As this occurred, Walker was conversing with Par.

"By the way, so I was out there doing a lurker check... no sign of that one employee, so take what you want. The guy at the counter seems distracted anyways."

Bill took the coat off of the rack and put it on. He proceeded to walk toward the counterman. He held up the broken string to him.

"Price? -plep-" Bill asked.

"I beg your pardon, sir?" The employee looked as though someone had interrupted his daydream.

"I offer you..." Bill began as he ripped the pink bra from his nipple --he still only had one half of it on as the other hung over his back-- and slammed it down on the table... "a trade-ah."

"I'm afraid there's an official price on that item, sir." The man said, forcing his eyes open.

"Price?" Bill asked again with another -plep- sound.

"Yes." The counterman didn't seem to grasp Bill's meaning.

"You can do nothing without the tag-ah!" Bill grew unhappy. His neat beard had grown scruffy and he itched it in frustration as he couldn't seem to get across to the checker. He still had his glasses, but they were dirty. He NEEDED to clean up - starting with new clothes.

"No, the tag's on the thread." The counterman seemed frustrated too.

"No it's not." Bill, again, held up the broken string to the man. "HA HA!"

"Oh." The employee froze in silence as a fly landed on his ear. "Check the back, there might be a sticker."

"How do you know of the sticker?" Bill seemed surprised.

"That's not part of our policy, sir." The man somehow manged to grab the fly from his ear. He ate it. "You can still put the coat back."

"No! I cannot!" Bill protested. "The first coat I liked promised to be bought... that was my decision-ah."

"Your decision?" The man asked.

"I... showed them how to look good enough to snag many p-ussies." Bill grinned, winked, then resumed his usual blank expression. "They could not snag p-ussies, ah, they gave me no steak! I must eat... before it's all gone-ah."

"Sir, we don't serve steak." The counterman seemed lost now. Bill twitched at this comment. He narrowed his eyebrows and wiggled his mouth around. Randomly, he looked up.

"Steak..." Billiam began, staring at the ceiling dramatically. Suddenly, he shouted. "STEEEEEEEEEEEEE-AAAAAAAAAAAAHK!"

"What?" The man had no response.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGHHHH!!!" Bill's temper exploded into a burst of a shaking chin and a wobbling beard.

"Are you a demon?" The man asked.

"I am steak's reckoning-ah." Bill said before walking away. He headed toward the clothing section, giving the counterman the impression that he was going to put the coat back. Promptly, the employee resumed his daydreaming. Bill, however, kept the jacket on as he acquired a yellow Wolverine t-shirt to go under it. Meanwhile, Dent made his way to the tech corner.

"MMMMMMM." the Kinkmeister said, immediately finding a pink case for a Samsung phone. He pulled a sim card from behind his ear and inserted it into his new mobile device.

"Wait... where'd you get that?" Par asked, carrying scissors and strolling about the market.

"I keep 'em on me at all times, baybay." Dent replied.

"Why not just let Walker carry it in his bag?" Par questioned.

"In the event of our kink-disgracing separation, I gotta have the necessities, behboi." Dent began booting up his new phone.

"So... your 'necessity' is a sim card stuffed behind your ear?" Richard asked with a confused expression.

"Das right, baybay." Dent smiled and held onto his last syllable. "Yer learnin'."

"Any other items you keep hidden throughout your body that I ought to know about?" Richard asked before realizing how strange that sounded.

"Just a comb, b@yb@y." Dent replied.

"No, what I mean is..." Richard began, "Y'know... things that might help us in the future? Like that sim card might have when we were... y'know, stranded!?"

"MMMMMMMMMMMMM!" Dent soaked in the aggression. "Fun tiems baybey, fun tiems."

"I happen to be an excellent thief." Richard approached Dent and avoided the subject being changed. "If I would've known you had that, I could've taken a policeman's phone and we could've made a call without being tracked... at first."

"I can't tell if that's kink, kank, or konk, bayboy." Dent didn't even establish eye contact with Richard, who gave up on trying to get a point across to the master of kink. Meanwhile, Bill now had a shirt and a trenchcoat. He needed something more than panties for his legs, though, so he attempted to locate some proper pants. Unfortunately, Walker randomly decided to try and socialize with him.

"You know, in the magical land of 00d," Walker began, his knees still reaching for the sky with every step he took, "all of this would be meaningless." Speaking of taking steps, he was pacing around, at times even strutting in circles around clothing racks. "It is a magical place of pure holy energy consisting of..." Walker was cut off when Bill --who was apparently unable to concentrate properly-- interrupted him...

"Hwhat's this-ah!?" Bill's voice had risen. "You... your.... your walking-ah! Your weird march-ah! It bothers me... it distracts me... it makes me want to grab your knees and rip them out of their sockets-ah!

"How rude!" Walker was offended, so he shooed Bill away. "Go eh-way!"

"I cannot be shooed off like some flying insect!" Bill declared.

"Just no, Bill... just... no." Walker stated.

"M'name's Davy Jones... don't forget it-ah."

"Still gonna call you Bill." Walker raised his eyebrows.

"Do not... mock me." Bill followed the walker of all the lands and tried to intimidate him.

"Or what? You gonna let that spodaman demon possess ya again? Like I said... if so, I'll kill ya." Walker glanced over as he continued to march away from Bill.

"Yer a dried out fish!" Bill yelled, tossing a shoe that was on display into Par's arm. The Brit's initial response was a quick "AEEH," before he realized what exactly happened. Angered by this, he retaliated.

"WANKWAAAAAD!" Par shouted, throwing his scissors at Bill. To his surprise, one of the blades impaled itself directly into Bill's chest. Everyone except for Dent and his women (who were busy staring at his phone) seemed shocked by this. Bill turned to face Par dramatically.

"Did you forget..." Bill ripped the blade out, "I'm a heartless bitch-ah!" he threw the scissors back at Par, who caught them. The group resumed their shopping.

"Dent." Walker summoned the Kinkmeister.

"Eh, baybay?" Dent asked, not looking away from the phone.

"It's been a month." Walker said with a frown.

"Mah mah mah..." for once, Dent put the phone down. "Might as well."

"Okie dokie." Walker grabbed a pair of boxers from his bag and threw them at Dent. They were dark gray, unlike Dent's light gray ones.

"Babayz." Dent signaled his women. They hid him from the others while he changed. When his women dispersed he was now wearing a new shade of grey for shorts. For some reason, his previous pair of boxers could not be found. Walker, on the other hand, took off his suit, shirt, and tie and stuck them in his bag. He then pulled out a blue t-shirt and donned it proudly. Dent promptly returned to his phone.

"What exactly are you doing on there?" Richard asked.

"Gotta let the baykinkbays know I'm baaaack." Dent responded.

"You're back? To what?"

"To my virtual existence, beiboi." Dent grinned. Richard peaked over one of his women and saw the kinkmeister holding his finger down on the "M" key... apparently he'd already done this for two whole pages and was continuing to do so. A consistent smile was drawn comfortably on his face.

"Alright, whatever that means..." Richard refused to process Dent's randomness, "I require a trim!" Richard grabbed himself a new pair of scissors (he didn't want to touch Par's) and heading to the bathroom. Unfortunately for him, Boogie followed.

"I need tuh shat." Boog declared, waddling toward the restroom alongside Richard, who sighed in agitation, frustration, and torture. The two entered the bathroom slowly. Immediately, Boogie went inside one of the stalls. "HEY, I FOUND A SOCK IN HERE!"

"Good for you, Boogie." Richard sighed again and began working to trim his beard. "Sausages sausages sausages... as they burn I dance a jig," He began mumbling to himself as he shaved. "Sausages sausages sausages... slowly cooked up to a crisp," he took his time and ignored something random that Boog blurted out in the background. "Sausages sausages sausages... roast them next to a pig!"

"AHHHH, MY HANDS ARE SWEATY, THEY WON'T STAY!" Boogie shouted from the stalls. Richard swore he heard something shortly before smelling a ghastly odor.

"Why do I care, Boogie?" Richard almost regretted asking this, but he thought maybe his sarcasm could ward off the Boogie Baby.

"CAUSE I WANT THEM TO STAY!" Boog grumbled.

"Well, I want a plank up yer ass, that doesn't mean it'll be there!" Richard nearly cut himself. He began working on his hair.

"Well," Boogie tried to take this seriously and make some sort of debate out of it, but Richard interrupted him...

"WELL, why don't you CHECK!?" Richard barked. This seemed to silence the obese monstrosity for some time. Richard continued, "sausages sausages sausages..." - about ten minutes passed of silence. Richard was over halfway done with his cut when Boogie shouted again randomly,

"AHH! MY TESTICLE!" The devourer and consumer of all things quacked violently. Richard sighed. When a flush was heard, the Boogie followed, stomping out of his stall loudly and heavily. This immediately sent Richard into a stress-induced super-cut.

"What the hell took you so long?" Richard tried to calm himself down with a question.

"HEH HEH HEH HEH HEEEEUH.... I WAS TAKING A PISS!" Boogie shouted. Brown hair flew everywhere as Richard grew even more irritated. Suddenly, a massive whooshing sound occurred just as Boogie came to the sink to wash his hands near Richard.

"What the hell was that?" Richard seemed confused since he was too focused on his haircut to look at Boogie.


"Boogie Baby, I'll cock yer gun and slice it off, ye bloomin' sausage-fuck!" Richard barked.

"That's NASTY." The hypocrite said.

"Bloody damned sausages." Richard threw down his scissors and ran for the exit. He didn't realize until then that he'd given himself a short haircut, something he disliked due to its popularity. He cared much less about this when he saw the commotion in the store, though. It was quite a sight... Bill, who now had proper boots, had the counterman held hostage in the middle of the store.

"Open the zipper..." Bill demanded, slurping like Davy Jones.

"What?" the employee asked, a terrified expression planted on his face.

"Open the zipper, I need to see it!" Bill ordered. When the checker gave him a confused expression as a response, Bill intimidated the man by breathing on him. Panicking, the checker unzipped and unbuttoned his pants. To his relief, Bill only cared about the size label. "These will do-ah."

"What?" The employee asked again.

"Your pants... HAND THEM OVER!" Bill declared, whipping out a "sword." He didn't actually procure an object, he simply made the hand motion as if he were doing so.

"Wait... we carry pants here!" The counterman attempted to reason with the stenchfest, "We have a lot of jeans! Uh, da-buh-buh-booey... you look like a jean guy... do you like jeans?"

"My jeans were ripped long ago... WHAAAAAUH!" Bill man-handled the assistant and violently threw him down to the ground face-first. He proceeded to rip the man's pants off and put them on himself. As this happened, the employee that chased off the random woman returned to the store. He had acquired the naked edition Harry Potter doll. When he saw the situation, he pulled out a hidden sidearm.

"Halt! Step away from the man!" The assistant demanded, taking aim. Bill had no fear, however. As he zipped and buttoned his pants, he kicked the counterman aside and flexed his muscles.

"ASSHOLE MAN!" Bill addressed the employee. "You'll see no mercy from me!"

"I repeat, step away!" The man said. It was puzzling how he was allowed to carry a gun, but nobody had time to question that. Bill was either brave or stupid when he said,

"Baaaare stench....." Bill suddenly switched to a Bane voice. "RAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Bill began charging at the man. Just as the assistant was about to open fire, suddenly, out-of-nowhere, a pink van came crashing through the shop's glass walls and ramming into the man, knocking him unconscious

"You WOT?" Par asked.

"What the bloody hell..." Richard gazed at the van. It was similar to Dent's Kinkmobile, except it lacked the extra plastic styling and had no pink lettering on the sides. The paint seemed very fresh, and the vehicle looked under-construction.


"Waot." Boogie came stomping out of the bathroom.


"Dent." Boogie addressed the Kinkmeister rudely.

"Sayhmm, Boogie beeeehbeh?" Dent replied.

"I don't know if I have enough food." Boogie frowned. Suddenly, without getting permission from his Kinkmeister, Boogie lunged for the food section and stuffed as much eatable material into his beard, armpits, pockets, and ass that he could. Dent ignored this.

"HAAAAY, BAYBAY!" Dent opened the van's door and grabbed the driver before throwing him into a mannequin. He directed his women to the mid section and then addressed Walker,

"Walka bibeeh, you know what to do." Dent said, hopping into the van with his women.

"Indeed!" Walker said, taking his position in the driver's seat.

"I thought you said you only had two pink vans lying around, Dent?" Richard asked, confused.

"Yes indeed beyboy, but, like I said, I know some Spanish mechanics in this town who take kindly to mula hula of the kinkylicious currency, a-baybay." Dent licked his lips and grinned.

"I somehow knew it would come to this..." Par remarked. With that, the group loaded up into the Prototype Kinkmobile. Walker backed it out of the store and began driving throughout the town.

Chapter 14: Check-In Edit


The hour was 3:41 AM. The moon dimly lit the town as the discombobulated mixture of lunatics rode comfortably in their customized vehicle. Walker happily swung his knees upward before he used any pedals, at times coming close to hitting pedestrians in the seemingly peaceful city.

"Almost there, baybai." Dent chimed in, he and his women occupying the midst section of the Kinkmobile.

"Where exactly are we going, Dent?" Richard asked, seated in the back along with Par and Bill.

"The Kinkmobile drives as the dumbass commands-ah!" Bill remarked.

"We all know what happened the last time you took the wheel, Bill!" Walker shouted from the driver's seat.

"Name's Davy Jones, I said don't forget it-ah!" Bill exclaimed.

"GUUUIISE, beyboyz... calm down. We're gonna be kinkah-great!" Dent (and his women) smiled eerily.

"Excuse me, but might I ask again? Where are we going!?" Richard addressed the Kinkmeister again. "And why aren't we doing the cheeseman's errand? We need to get this mess over with... I'm still contemplating drinking a Dr. Pepper before I see Mr. Stewart... don't push me to the limit!"

"Well, y'see bibeeeeh, we're travelin' to mah Spanish mechanics, be-he-beh." Dent sounded satisfied with his own words.

"Didn't you already contact them to... y'know, BRING YOU THIS VAN!?" Richard remarked.

"MMMMMMM, a-yes, das right, bubuh." Dent replied.

"So, why are we going to visit them once more?" Richard asked.

"This thing ain't readeh yet... it needs upgradin' beyboy." Dent licked his lips shortly before his women did the same. With that, Richard ran out of energy to continue the discussion. None of them had slept in quite some time, so they began falling asleep. Dent was the first to doze off. Boogie somehow managed to take a nap, despite his consecutive breath-growls. He sounded like an over-sized hyperventilating pug. Even Bill managed to fall asleep. Things didn't look too good when Walker began falling asleep, though...

"oooooooooddd." was all the blue-haired man muttered as his knees fell shorter than usual. he leaned his head forward and his glasses were close to sliding off of him. His foot fell harder on the ignition and, before they knew it, Walker was speedily driving them through the wrong lane. Par took notice.

"Uh... Walka?" Par raised his eyebrows. He had fashioned a sort of cloak during their visit to the shop. He realized Walker was sleeping, but he couldn't seem to find the motivation to speak loudly. It wasn't until he saw an upcoming cluster of cars that he zapped himself awake. "Walker! Intersection, ye wad of wanks!"

"BEARS!" Walker awoke himself and scrambled in a spastic panic. He attempted to alter their course, but it was too late. Suddenly, the pink van rammed straight into a small Ford car, which was thrown spinning straight up into the air and then tossed aside, plummeting directly into a Dollar General. The Kinkmobile resumed its course.

"WOO-WEE, BEYBOYS, WHAT A RIDE!" Dent suddenly awoke, livelier than ever.

"Okay, I do believe we need to pull over right about now." Richard suggested.

"SMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMexily dexily true, to a certain degree, kinkbay." Dent agreed as piles of cars honked their horns and attempted to dodge the wobbling mobile of kink.

"The authorities are likely to hear of this incident." Par pointed out. "I suggest we abandon this metal wankery and find a more covert vehicle."

"NAAAAAO! NAO NAO NAO NAO NAO NAO!" Dent began, "We'll be stayin' in the kinkmobile, bubuh. Don't worry, we're fieeeen."

"Dent, where to now?" Walker asked, a consistent expression of terror on his face as he attempted to navigate. Dent didn't respond, he simply pulled out his pink phone and began calling someone.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAY SERVICEMAN BAYBAAAY, I NEED YA TO DO ME A FAVOR!" Dent exclaimed. "A-yes, I'd like three rooms, baybeeeh. And a reeeeeally big blanket."

"Waaot." Boogie gobbled from his seat, still dozing. Dent promptly hung up his phone.

"Just settin' the needs, Boogie babeh, settin' the neeeeedz." Dent replied. Unfortunately, Walker was given no directions and had apparently driven them out of town. The area was growing forest-like and civilization seemed absent where they were heading. It wasn't long before they spotted a...

"BEEEEEEAR!" Walker shouted, stopping the car.

"Baybeeh, turn around and head for the Holiday Inn, we got a kinkbox secured dere, b@yboy." Dent suggested. Walker, apparently, was too shocked at the bear's sudden appearance to do anything.

"Well, go on then!" Par demanded.

"Beeeears...." Walker increased the power of his headlights and saw more bears approaching.

"Fine..." Par suddenly drew a serious expression, exiting the Kinkmobile. He opened Walker's door, grabbed the blue-haired man, and threw him out of it. "I'll do it myself."

"Dowut?" Walker asked.

"Get back here, sausage." Richard commanded, gesturing toward Walker, who took a moment to study the situation. He re-situated his bag and decided to comply, marching over to the back of the vehicle and taking a seat next to Richard. Bill was aside Richard to the right and was still sleeping.

"Hi, Par." Boogie addressed their new driver.

"HI, Boogie!" Par feigned cheerfulness. "What's that you got there?" The self-proclaimed rapist reached his hand out and grabbed Boogie's beard. He procured a middle finger from it before sarcastically gasping at it. "Oh! Well, aren't you just full of fucks?"

"I can give a pretty good fuck..." Boogie replied before reviving his innocence-ripping, comfort-destroying, mood-consuming, brain-raping laugh. "Harh-heh! Hueh hueh hueh!"

"Ahhh..." Par exhaled and rolled his eyes. Then, he broke out into a song - to the tune of Hallelujah, "HEEEEE'S reTARDED! HEEEEE'S reTARDED! HE'S RETARDED! HE'S RETARDED! HE'S RETAAAHHHH-AHHHH-RDED!"

"Shut the fack up, Par." Boogie grumbled and looked to his side. Par immediately dismissed this and backed up the Kinkmobile slowly, carefully avoiding hitting anything. Once he'd turned it around, he slammed on the ignition and sent the car into a speedy burst through the town. The bears could no longer be seen.

"Directions?" Par asked, raising his eyebrows.

"West, beibei." Dent replied. Within half an hour, they located the hotel. "Pary baybay, make sure you park the kinkmob-"

"I'm aware, Dent." Par interrupted, not wanting to be told something obvious.

"MMMMMMMMM." Dent soaked in more aggression as Par made sure to park the mobile of Kink far from the roads in a covert parking place. Quite promptly, Boogie stomped out of the van.

"I need to nap." Boogie chirped, despite the fact that he'd napped in the van. Walker made quick to march out of the back and speed past Boog toward the front door.

"That's the benefit of not being obese!" He said, his hands firmly behind his back as his usual knee-rising march sent him flying past Boog, his hair and beard flopping wildly.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, WALKA!" Boogie quacked, speeding up to something that might be considered a stroll. Every step seemed hard for him to make as his belly shook more than Walker's hair did.

"You know..." Richard said, exiting the van... "I wonder how he... err, well, that... thing... uses the restroom."

"I SHAT, THAT'S HOW!" Boogie overheard Richard's comment and he scrunched this noise out of his vocal chords as he continued to stomp after Walker.

"Dent, you couldn't have had this thing painted a less unique color?" Par asked.

"Nao, beyboy." Dent said, sliding out of the Kinkmobile with his women. It seemed to be a necessity for the middle seat to be slippery enough for this, as none of the other seats were made out of the same material. Dent opened the door Bill was leaning on. If not for his seat-belt, Bill would have collapsed to the concrete. "Bheely bieby, wake upppp." Dent declared.

"Let's not stand on ceremony here.... Mr. Dent!" Bill squawked in his Bane voice.

"Das right, b@yb@y." Dent grinned creepily and made for the front door, as did the rest of them. Walker had already gotten inside...

"The three rooms with a big blanket?" The blue-haired man addressed the serviceman. The man gave Walker and price (plep) and Walker promptly paid for their rooms.

"Your rooms will be 204, 205, and 206 on the second floor, sir." The man explained. "What's the occasion, if I may ask? It's quite odd for us to have clients at four in the morning."

"As you can see, baybaah, these are some odd people." Dent explained shortly after entering the building. "You'll have to rely on me to be the... normal person in the group, a-baybay." The serviceman seemed confused by this statement, so his only response was:

"Very well."

"Ood thanks you." Walker commented.

"MMMMMMMMMM." Dent replied, walking away and turning his back to the man. The group proceeded to the elevator. Richard, Par, Bill, and Walker made their way onto it. When Boogie stomped in, the entire elevator made a creaking noise as if it was in pain. "Nao nao nao nao nao, beyboys... Walka, I need a kank."

"Okie!" Walker reaching into his orange man-purse and procured some sort of small drink. He tossed it to Dent, who instantly consumed it.

"MMMMMMM!" Dent yelled. "Baybays." Dent signaled for his woman to retract their feet from the ground. Relying on holding onto his arms, they pulled on his weight. Suddenly, the Kinkmeister ran over to the stairs. Despite his stub limb, he began charging up the stairs at a super-fast speed, his women's legs plopping against each stair and bouncing about wildly as he drove them upwards, yelling "KINK KINK KIIIIIIIIIINK!" Even once he made it up tons of stairs, the sound of his women's feet hitting the steps could be heard throughout the hotel.

"The elevator rises!" Bill stated, growing impatient. He sent the elevator to the second floor. Somehow, when they arrived, Dent had beaten them.


"Odd pople?" Bill questioned.

"Eh, baybay?"

"Uh... don't you mean people?" Walker asked.

"Odd pople... you are a hypocrite!" Bill squeaked.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMM, whatevuh you say, buhbuh." Dent replied.

"Perhaps I'm wondering why you would say you're normal... before speeding up stairs yelling kink.... kink....... kink." Bill responded.

"I'll take 204, baybeeeez. Mah baybies will be joinin' me." Dent claimed his room. There was silence.

"Well, seeing as I don't give a shit which room I stay in, I'll take this blanket here." Par seemed to be able to read Dent's mind, even remembering something the Kinkmeister didn't. Par took the extra large blanket with him as he climbed into the elevator and made his way back down.

"I'll take 206. Higher numbers are better HEEEEYUUHEANK!" Boogie honked.

"205." Walker responded immediately.

"205." Richard replied blandly. The two of them entered their room, leaving only one person to go with Boog...

"Well, looks like it's just you and me, Bill." Boogie slurped.

"Only you." Bill attempted to join the other room and leave Par to go with Boogie, but it seemed they'd locked the door immediately. "I'm on your schedule, dumbass." Bill addressed Boog.

"Shut the fuck up, Bill." Boogie remarked, entering the room. Immediately, he rushed for the bathroom.

"Aaaaouergh!" Bill squawked, making strange noises in his Bane voice as Boogie beat him to the restroom. "I'll give you five minutes... then I break in there with baaaare stench."

"I gotta change." Boogie declared.

"What other clothes do you have?" Bill asked, confused by Boogie's comments.

"Well, these ones came from my ass. Hueh hueh heuh!" Boogie blurted. Bill didn't seem to know how to respond to this comment, so he simply stood directly in front of the bathroom door, holding onto the collar of his new coat. two minutes passed...

"You're running out of time, Susan." Bill addressed Boog.


"Three... by my calculations." Bill remarked. "What are you doing now?"

"I'm takin' off mah undahwear." Boogie scrunched and replied. Another minute passed.

"Take the underwear... off of the body." Bill instructed.

"I did, eat a dick." Boog jabbed.

"What are you doing now, then?"

"I'm takin' off mah underwear."

"And what..." Bill began, giving a confused expression even though he couldn't be seen... "what is this?"

"I SAID I'M TAKING OFF MY UNDERWEAR!" Boogie could clearly be heard mangling with something in the bathroom.

"And just how many pairs of underwear do you have?" Bill asked.

"TEN!" Boog shouted.

"How and why do you wear and go through ten pairs of underwear?" Bill was appropriately baffled. There was a long pause.... Boogie was silent... until he finally quacked,


"Your obedience and compliance have been important... 'til now." Bill grew tired of Boogie's randomness, so he stood back and prepared for something. "BAAAAAARE.... STENCH! RAAAAAAAOUERGH!" Bill charged at the bathroom door, full-speed - this did nothing, as he slammed straight into it and then fell to the ground, immobilized. He groaned, "Impossible."

"EAT A DIIIICK." With that, Boogie opened the door and came stomping out of the bathroom. Not even acknowledging Bill, he stepped on and over him, causing the stenchfest to make several strange noises. "MOOOOOM, I SWEAR I'M TIRED!" Boogie proclaimed, stomping over Bill and to his bed. When Boogie flopped onto the bed, one would say a nuclear bomb had gone off. Bill groaned at hearing this. He tried to stand up...

"I need pusssyyyyyy..... I need steeeak." Bill moaned.

"You know what?" Boogie started. "I need to shat." Boogie came stomping out of his bed. Desperate, Bill tried to crawl into the bathroom and claim it before Boogie could. Unfortunately, Boogie was determined, and stepped on Bill again before returning to the bathroom, leaving steak's reckoning immobilized on the ground, reaching his hand up for the doorknob making a weird groaning noise.

Meanwhile, Par stuffed the giant blanket over the Kinkmobile, hiding it. He jogged back to the entrance when he was approached by two random men.

"Wankers." He thought. "Probably here to mug me, I do look very expensive."

"Hey scrub, wallet, cash, anything else ya got, now." One man said as he pulled a sidearm.

"Ah, cut straight to the chase, then!?" Par smiled, then got a mean look in response. "Alrighty then." He reached his right hand into his coat pocket. "Heeere is my wallet..." suddenly, he pulled out a sculpture of a demonic looking knight holding a pin for a sword.

"What's the meaning of this shit!?" The thief asked.

"Think of it this way... you're a male, so you're used to inserting yourself into things... let's try the flip side!" Par suddenly lunged forward, ducking (in case he tried to shoot) and grabbing the man's leg with his left hand. He pulled it up, tripping and disarming him. He then stuck the pin into the man's reproductive organ, through his pants.

"AUHNT!" The man screeched. Before the other could aid him, Par pulled him by his leg across the parking lot. As the other man followed, he dragging his partner along, yelling "WHEEEEEE!"

"Dude, what the hell?" The man standing asked, attempting to aid his partner. Suddenly, Par threw the injured man's foot into the other's face. He clubbed him three more times with his buddy's foot before finally kicking him in the crotch himself. Quickly, he pulled out his "special flavor" Hawaiian Punch and put just a drop of it on the two bandits' mouths. Suddenly, dozens and moths flew in and began attacking their faces. They shouted in agony as the got a mouthful of insects. Slowly, the cloud of bugs grew smaller and smaller as the moths were voluntarily consumed. Chocking on moth, both of them men fell down dead.

"Wankers." Par remarked, dragging their dead bodies into an enclosed trunk inside the Kinkmobile. He returned to the rooms and ended up staying with Richard and Walker. He found them both in their respective beds.

"What, I get left with the floor?" Par asked, troubled by this development.

"Yeah." Richard replied blandly.

"It would warm Jetpack Jesus to tolerate sleeping on the floor." Walker said.

"Wot." Par gave a confused expression, with no response. "Well, I'm bored. Provide me with entertainment!"

"I have many fun activities doable in my bag!" Walker grinned from his bed. This statement disturbed Richard, but Par seemed to realize that Walker didn't mean something disgusting... either that, or he was just that bored.

"Such as...?" The "rapist" asked.

"I am currently carrying ten monopoly boards, two chess sets, a real-world setup for Team Fortress, --" Walker was cut off,

"TEAM FORTRESS IT IS!" Par grinned, then approached the blue-haired man. "So, go on then. It's in your bag, eh?"

"Indeed!" Walker stood out of his bed, marching over to his bag. "It's life-size!" The walker of all the lands unzipped his bag and stepped inside it, instantly disappearing into the man purse.

"Wot." Par didn't seem to know what to think of this. He turned to Richard for an answer, but he found his half-fellow-Brit expressionlessly staring at the wall. He seemed to acknowledge what was going on around him, he simply didn't care to participate. Par shrugged and stepped into the bag as well.

A good hour passed by until Richard saw a fly buzzing around in the hotel room. It wasn't anything dangerous - not a poisonous spider or a wasp. It was just a fly. This fly, however continually buzzed and zipped back and forth between lamps, making little plopping noises as it flew in crash-courses around the room. Richard could not tolerate this, so he got out of bed and promptly swatted the fly with his hands... - wham! Well, he though he swatted it... it appeared as though the insect had evaded him.

"Get back here, ye bloomin' sack of mansweat!" Richard insulted the bug, somehow hoping this would draw it out. Sure enough, the fly buzzed right into his face, smacking into his left cheek and then zooming by. "How DARE you!?" Infuriated, Richard made a wild attempt to capture the flying buzzer. Somehow, he'd managed to grab the insect in his hand. "Fine... I'll do it myself." He tossed the bug violently into the floor, ending its short life. Suddenly, he realized he'd dirtied his hand. "Fack."

Richard casually strolled through his room and into the restroom. As he washed his hands, a thought occurred to him. What would happen if he sat Walker's bag in the bath tub and turned the shower water on...

Meanwhile, in room 206...

Bill could not sleep. He had been stepped on by the Boogie Baby, who was now snoring louder than ever whilst sinking into his bed. Intending to enact his vengeance, Bill ran for the bathroom. He grabbed a deodorant container marked "Suave" and used a permanent marker to change the spelling to "Susan." Bill proceeded to take Boogie's phone out of his pocket, replacing it with the deodorant. Then, he plucked off some of his own pubic hair and stuck it in Boogie's beard.

"Insolent fool." Bill muttered to himself as he imagined Boogie's torment.

Back in room 205...

Richard had slept for a good hour when, suddenly, yelling woke him.

"WAD OF WANKS!" Par shouted after a loud thump.

"I CAN'T WALK! THERE'S NO ROOM! GO EH-WAY!" Walker struggled, unable to freely perform his obligatory version of a method to step. The Brit and the blue-haired man eventually made their ways into the room, both of them having soaked their fancy clothing. Walker looked at Par, then at Richard. He stared. He looked at Par again, until finally addressing the man whose devilish grin contradicted his apparent lack of consciousness. "YOU WHORE!" Walker shouted. This did nothing, as Richard's grin just grew wider, his eyes closed and his figure relaxed.

"Careful, he sleeps with his gun." Par commented on the situation.

"Doesn't mean he can be a diyeck and disgrace the holy Doobledore." Walker muttered.

"Well, now that we're done, I will take this moment to go to coffin." Par said casually as he lied down in the bed that was originally Walker's.

"And where do you think I'm supposed to sleep?" Walker was confused.

"In your bag, of course! You forgot to zip it up, so I'd hurry in there!" Par gave a freakish smile and then rolled over to sleep on his stomach, his face pressed against his pillow. Suddenly, Walker had a flashback...

"Metal zipper..." the purple-shirted man said as he threw his hand out dramatically. Suddenly, Walker's orange man purse flew up into the air and then landed on him, instantly consuming him. "Let's take a walk..."

Walker shuddered at the memory before realizing he didn't want his bag flooded, so he rushed into the bathroom.


Par awoke to sex noises. Yes, the orgasmic sound waves produced by humans participating in coitus penetrated the sound barriers of, not only the walls, but Par's pillow. The self-proclaimed rapist rolled over roughly, blinking in a spastic pattern, awaiting another noise. There was silence. The Brit's eyelids shut.

"OOOHYI!" (Bill make this noise in the recording please) Par's eyes opened again, as did Richard's. A brief "sausage" comment was heard. Par rested again, as the noises stopped. He nearly fell back asleep when another sound occurred. (Bill please make a weird noise)

"WANKERS!" Par shouted, immediately sitting up in his bed and staring directly at the wall in front him.

As if on cue, Richard sat up as well, yelling "CONFOODLERS!" Suddenly, both of them got out of their beds. Richard pulled out some sort of concealed hat from his pocket and put it on. Then, he grabbed black sunglasses that he'd smuggled out of the shop they ransacked and donned those as well. Similarly, Par somehow inverted his robes to look like a suit, and he also pulled a hat and some glasses out of nowhere. The two brooding figures exited their rooms and entered the corridor. Immediately, they made their way to room 204.

"Mr. Sea Slasher!" Par sounded annoyed and to-the-point, although he didn't sound creepily serious like how he had gotten with Boog. A few shuffling sounds were heard.

"HAAAAAAY PAAR BAYBAAAAY!" Dent said, opening his door. He had clearly been sleeping, along with his women, who were, in fact, still asleep! Their hands were still attached to Dent's arms, though, as they unconscious bodies slumped to the floor. The Kinkmeister actually looked like he was barely able to hold his arm up to open the door, although he was apparently "too pimp for pain," as it were.

"You hear those wa-" Par began, but was interrupted...

"Confooderates!" Richard's gaze was set directly on Dent, his stare quite uncomfortable.

"You want me to hear who waat, beybooy-uh?" Dent seemed like he could barely speak. Suddenly, more noises were heard....

"STOOPP I CAN'T BREEATHE!!!" A loud thumping noise occurred. "MMMMMMMM!"

"Mmmmmm, them baybays can go for long tiem!" Dent grinned.

"Dammit, Dent, I command you to confiscate their kink." Par said semi-authoritatively, semi-casually.

"If someone can't breathe, it isn't kinky, beibey." Dent replied. "And if it ain't kink...... no kink to confiscate, behbei."

"Except the woman's also moaning-" Par was cut off again

"Quite like you do." Richard addressed Dent.

"Exactly." Par feigned a grin. "She clearly enjoys the lack of air."

"Okay.... then it's MEGA KINK, beyboys!" Dent burst into a short-lived moment of energy, before returning to his sleep-deprived state. "Gooniet baybays." He shut the door on them.

"Bloody" - Richard

"Fookin" - Par

"Sausage." - Richard "Welp, confooderacy standard 1.3?" Suddenly, as if following protocol, Par and Richard began walking parallel paths across the hallways of the hotel. When they reached a door, Par went to knock on it, as Richard continued downward.

"Huh, hey?" It took the bloated man, whose fat was about half of Boogie's, a moment to open the door.

"Hi!" Par feigned happiness again, smiling creepily and waving.

"Have you seen Benny?" The man asked in his smoker's voice accompanied with the aroma of a Bud Lite beer.

"Wot?" Par questioned the man.

"Benny! My pet rat." As the man said this, Par shut the door on him. Richard had also knocked on a door. It took a moment for anyone to come to the door, but eventually...

"Is it breakfast time yet?" A disgusting woman answered. Her hair flew wildly in all directions, her teeth had lettuce in them and she smelled like a yard after a summer rain.

"Are you a confooderate!?" Richard interrogated the woman, sternly asking this question.

"Hey..... what now? Hahahaha." The woman's giggle was almost as intolerable as Boogie's, and, as she threw her arms in the air, her smell was half as bad as Bill's.

"I asked if you are a confoodler, my dear woman." Richard raised his eyebrows slightly.

"I can be whatevuh you want me to be, buddd." She stuck her finger, which possessed a nail that held obvious recently-popped pimple juices in it, in her mouth.

"So that's a no, then." Richard turned and continued down the hall.

"NOT MY FAULT YOU'RE PICKY! I THOUGHT STANDARDS WERE OUT THE WINDOW BY TWO!" The woman shouted, slamming her door closed. Richard found another room, and he knocked. Almost immediately, a man answered...

"Gary?" The door opened.

"Do you support confooderacy!?" Richard asked.

"Gary." The man answered.

"Gary, yes! I get that your name is Gary... but are you a confoodler, my good sir?" Richard seemed impatient, but willing to take time to end the loud noises.

"Gary." The man's voice deepened.

"Yes... Gary! Answer, man!"


"Bloody sausage, ARE YOU A CONFOODERATE!?"


"Damned sausagedoodle, I UNDERSTAND THAT YOUR NAME IS GARY!"


"Ahhh!" Richard gave the man a confused look. "So... what's your name again?"














"SAUSAGEDOODLING HAMWANK!" Richard yelled as he shut the door on Gary. He and Par continued to investigate, when they knocked on the door to a suite.

"This should be it, it holds more people." Par suggested.

"Eh, less privacy." Richard commented.

"True." Par shrugged. Suddenly, what seemed like a woman's voice came echoing through the hall from the room.


Par and Richard addressed each other. "I don't think she's capable..." Par began,

"Me neither." Richard replied as a short man who looked like a wanna Beatles musician answered the door.

"Okay, seriously, Sheldon, another costume?" The man seemed annoyed. Par and Richard studied the man's figure, particularly his crotch.

"Nope." Richard looked to Par.

"Nope." Par replied, shutting the door on this man and walking off. They grouped up on the next door too, unaware of who or what they'd encounter...

"SERIOUSLY!?" A man's voice boomed out of the room. "More damned prostitutes!?"

"Wanker." Par sighed as Richard chuckled.

"I THOUGHT IT TOLD YOU...." The man seemed like he was getting closer "NEXT TIME YOU COME BY THIS ROOM, YOU'RE GETTING A BULLET!"

"Sausage." Richard suddenly stilled to attention.

"IF YA WANT SOMETHING EXPLODING IN YOUR FACE SOOOOO BADLY..." Shuffling noises were heard before a sudden clicking sound. "I'll give ya something you'll NEVER FORGET!" Loud footsteps were heard...

"Abort!" Richard declared as they both turned around swiftly and promptly bolted through the corridors. Shots were fired. "THE GUN!"

"HE'S SHOOTING IT!" Par proclaimed.

"GET BACK TO THE ROOM YOU FILTHY SACK OF STOLEN BLOOD!" Richard yelled as they ran through the hallways, zipping across corners and dodging and angry shoe-throwing from the woman Richard had pissed off. Before they knew it, they were back in their rooms. There were no more sex noises.

"Bloody brilliant." Richard commented.

Chapter 15: Checkout Edit


It was now considered "morning," as Bill dramatically got out of his bed. He studied his surroundings, seeing that Boog was still asleep and that the sun had come up. Bill cupped his mouth with his left hand, saying...

"The sun rises." He slapped his right hand on his own greasy head; he hadn't bathed in some time, and quite a lot of dandruff had accumulated in his hair. He moved his palm down to his nose, where he sniffed his own smell. "And the stench remains stroooong." He drew an impressed expression with his eyebrows.

"Gobble gaaah." Boog made noises in his sleep. "Nooo, the women... they're runnin' 'way.... staahp. Muthafaaa." Bill looked to the devourer of all materials and sighed, his hand-cupped mouth giving his breathing a distinct sound.

"Insolent foooool." Bill muttered quietly to himself. After a brief moment, he reached into his coat pocket and procured Boogie's smartphone, which he had stolen not long ago. He checked the time before activating the hotel's WiFi. Once he saw what he wanted, he clicked once and then turned toward the door and began walking toward it. "Time to go mobile."

Suddenly, Bill barged out of his room. He had turned on Bane's theme using Boogie's smartphone and was now playing it at full volume.

"SHUT THE FACK UP, BILL!" Boogie shouted, not even opening his eyes. Bill began singing along to his theme....

"Pussy pussy land and sea, land and sea - pussy pussy land and sea, land and sea, pussy pussy land and sea, land and sea, pussy pussy land and sea, land and sea, pussy pussy land and sea, land and sea," Bill sang throughout the halls. When the song became more intense, he reverted to "Steak steak STEAK... STEAK! Steak steak STEAK... STEAK! Steak steak STEAK... STEAK! Steak steak STEAK... STEAK!" This seemed to awaken the rest of the group, all of whom emerged from their rooms within a 15 minute period.

"MMMMMMMM!" Dent screamed, exiting his room with his women. He came across Bill, who was still listening to his theme song. "KINKY KINKITY KINITY" The Kinkmeister mocked the Stenchfest, who gave him a confused expression that wasn't even acknowledged as Dent continued his way through the hall, his women holding onto his arms with one of their hands and using their free hands to carry his luggage.

"Did he even have those suitcases when we got here?" Par asked, exiting his room with a yawn.

"Nope." Richard replied blandly, having clearly gotten more sleep than his supposed blood-sucking acquaintance. Suddenly, the disgusting woman who Richard had encountered earlier found the group.

"Hey, asshole!" She shouted, addressing Richard, who gave her a freakishly intense stare accompanied with a wide grin.

"Hello there, dearie." Richard's face didn't change, instead only intensifying every second.

"Because of you, I went ALL NIGHT WITHOUT..." she stopped herself when she noticed the stare. Suddenly, Bill took notice.

"You..." Bill addressed the woman, his left hand still cupped over his mouth. "The stench of strooong with you."

"Oh yeah... you." She seemed desperate to talk to anyone other than Richard, who seemed willing to don that grin all day. "I liked some of what you were singing about earlier..."

"Step forward any booby who will serve..." Bill continued rambling, "For an army will be raised." Abruptly, Bill dramatically threw his hand out at the woman, somehow taking control of her odor. "Truuuue stench!" He shouted, performing some sort of ritual.

"Okay... should we seal it in my bedroom?" The woman didn't seem to acknowledge this grand event Bill was attempting to perform, instead choosing to approach Bill seductively. "Or yours, probably... cause mine's a little ga-ross."

"No!" Bill held his right hand out toward her. "They'll expect one of us to act normal, sister." Then, he offered his hand forth for a handshake. The woman followed through, realizing too late that Bill's hand was still covered in his grease and dandruff. She gasped as he firmly spread his gonk onto her in a fish-like manner before retracting his hand violently and turning the other way. "Threeeee cats." He muttered to himself, catching up to the others.

The hour was 10:17 AM. The bundle of madness had prepared to leave their hotel, all of them downstairs in the lobby with whatever possessions they had properly packed. Suddenly, Dent stopped Bill. Strangely, the bags he had his women carrying earlier had disappeared.

"Bheeely baybeeeeh, sit down." Dent declared. Bill found a chair and did so.

"And what... what is this?" Bill asked.

"Well, y'see beyboy, You need to change." Dent said, sitting down as well. Bill paused, staring at Dent. Despite the lack of his previously-worn bra mask, the way he looked down at Dent made his mouth seem... gone. Well, he obviously spoke out of, but, other than for talking, he didn't use his lower facial muscles.

"What?" Bill asked in what was almost like a squawk, except to the tone of Bane's voice.

"You need to become somethin.... tsk, something worthy of the kink." Dent raised his eyebrows as he attempted to explain himself. This did nothing, as Bill didn't understand anything he was saying. "I needja to do me a favor... I needja to get a kinkyliciouslier voice, bohbuh."

"Impossible." Bill grasped the collar of his trenchcoat and gave Dent a confused expression.

"Right... right..." Dent looked away, displaying what looked like forced amusement and a feigned smile. Suddenly, he removed his stick-attached limb and jammed it into Bill's face, knocking him unconscious. "Baybayz." His women followed this command and both kissed Bill on the cheeks, waking him up.

"BY MY BROTHER'S PENIS!" Bill's Loki voice shouted.

"Nao nao nao, bayboy..." Dent jammed him in the face again. More kisses...

"I.... have come back... TO LIFE!" Bill donned a new voice. Unfortunately for him, Dent didn't like this one either. Another jab and more kisses... "SPIDAMAN!"

"CURSE YOU, SPODAMAN!" Walker said, having just nearly exited the building.


"WHOOOORE!" Walker shouted.

"SPIDAMAAAAAAAYEEEEEEAAAAAN!" Bill yelled. Walker was prepared to throw bananas, but he halted himself when Dent knocked Bill out again. Finally, with more kisses, he awoke again. "Eeeeeenough!" Bill returned to Davy Jones, shoving Dent aside and standing up. "I cannot be controlled like some stringy puppet!"

"Yes ya can, baybaaaaay-uh." Dent replied, standing up with the help of his women.

"No!" Bill responded. "I cannot! The first personality promised to stay put forever... that was our agreement!" Bill declared, leaving the store. "I must find steak-ah." He looked around.

"Oh dear..." Richard noticed this. "Well, someone fetch him."

"I WILL! I'M HUNGRY!" Boogie said, for once picking up his speed to be nearly as fast as a normal person walking casually. He followed Bill through the streets. It appeared the stenchfest was heading for a Mexican restaurant. Walking in, Bill familiarized himself with the surroundings before yelling...


"What?" A random customer asked.

"Loser says what-ah." Bill remarked. There was silence. He stormed up to the counter. "The steaks-ah?"

"I'm sorry, we don't have steak." The counterman replied.

"For now..." Bill frowned at the man and exited the store shortly before Boogie came right past him and entered it. Unfortunately, he was unable to fit in the door. Instead of backing up, he tried harder to fit in the narrow space. As he tried to walk forward, he scrunched upward and into the air, held in place by the doorframe.

"HAAAAAALP! I'M STUUUCK! MOTHERFUCK! MOTHERFUCK!" Boog screamed, kicking his feet in the air wildly. When someone tried to assist, they ended up being kicked in the face.

"Ugh... they're both going to get captured by the police." Richard remarked.

"Indeed, I saw a news report earlier saying they're looking for people with our descriptions riding in a pink van." Par explained.

"So... we're just gonna leave them be?" Walker asked.

"Nao nao nao nao naaaaao-a-baybay, I'll get the Bewgeh beybeeeh." Dent decided. "The rest of you kinks find that smelly Bheely bayboy."

Bill had already found himself two blocks away. He walked through the streets, completely ignoring cars. Many nearly hit him, forcing the drivers to slam on their brakes. An accident was caused as one car swerved to miss Bill and rammed directly into another. Bill looked at the cars as if they were in his way. Eventually, a rather large red truck came really close to hitting him. Bill disregarded this and began walking for the sidewalk. Unfortunately, the driver attacked him verbally.

"Hey, asshole! Watch where you're goin, you sausage!" The man exclaimed. A very brief moment after realizing this insult was the same as his acquaintance, (at best) Richard, Bill turned around and began yelling at the man whilst walking toward his vehicle.


"Clark, lock the door!" A woman shouted from the passenger's seat. It was took late, as Bill dragged the car door open and threw the man out of it. He shoved him up to the truck and began his interrogation.

"Do ye fear stench-ah?" Bill questioned.

"W-what?" the man, "Clark," said.

"Do you fear that terrible odor?" Bill asked, moving up close to the man's face. "All your senses laid numb... all yer nose hairs... punished!?" He reached for the "pocket" in his back... "I can offer you... an air freshener."

"I ain't takin' nothin' from you, freak. Jessie, get the shotgun from the back!" Clark yelled.

"To the pits." Bill said before attacking. He attempted to throw Clark into his armpit, but the man resisted. They both stood up and entered a skirmish, Bill trying to allow his pit to make its way into the man's face while Clark tried to escape. Eventually, They spun around, and before they knew it, they were in another lane. Suddenly, Bill shoved the man and he was hit by a passing car, which tossed him aside, injured. The car continued driving the other way, ignoring this.

"Aaaaargh.. w-why... why me? Why did I have to meet this asshole?" Clark asked.

"Your car is cruel-ah." Bill replied. "Why should the other cars be any different-ah!?"

"You smell.... like shit." Clark commented.

"I can offer you... a choice." Bill held up the air freshener.

"Terrorist!" The man's wife, Jessie, held a shotgun toward Bill from about six feet away. "Get away from my bubby."

"He'll see no mercy from me-ah." Bill stood up slowly.

"I ain't jokin!" Jessie said, aiming her weapon straight at Bill.

"Yer a disgrace to the PUSSY!" Bill declared. Before Jessie could react, he turned around dramatically and threw his arm out toward the truck. "Smelly exhaust pipe..." Bill declared, somehow causing the pipe to break off and fly in mid air, crashing into Jessie. The impact somehow disarmed her, and Bill used the distraction to quickly pit the man harshly, letting him take three good breaths of the dreaded smell. He fell over, presumably dead. "Ha-ha... HAH HA!"

"NO!" Jessie shouted, fiddling with her gun. Bill quickly galloped through the streets, dodging a couple of shots and a lot of cars. He ran off into the distance. Richard had been observing this.

"The authorities are going to be here soon, there's no way we can fetch the sausage in time." Richard commented.

"Why can't we just leave 'em?" Walker asked.

"The Cheesemonger said he wants us all back." Richard replied.

"Yeah, and... judging by what he did to Boog, I don't want to piss that guy off." Par added.

"MMMMMMMMM." Dent reemerged, flanked by Boogie, and, as usual, his women.

"Got 'em unstuck?" Richard asked.

"It wasn't hard, buhbuh." Dent replied. "The thing about kink is... as you know, all it takes is a bay... and a beh."

"Okay, whatever that means, can we get the bloody fook outta here?" Richard asked.

"Might as well." Dent replied. The group, without their Bill, loaded up into the Kinkmobile, unaware of the dead corpses in the back of their vehicle. It was dangerous to drive around in a pink van, but the Spanish mechanics' shop wasn't far from their hotel, so they could make good time. Soon enough, they arrived at the shop. "Alright, time to let these baykinkbays work on the Kinkmobile. In the meantieeem, find Bheely beyboy." Dent entered the shop and began speaking with the Spanish mechanics. "Haaaay baybayz, I needja to do me a biiig favah." Dent said upon entrance. They exited the Kinkmobile and allowed the mechanics to do their work.

"I wonder what it is exactly that he's adding to the van." Par pondered.

"You should've seen the original, there were so many different secret functions I could wipe my ass on part of it and nobody would notice. HEEEUAAAAAAWEUANK!" Boogie quacked.

"Boog.... that's disgusting. No... just... just no." Walker replied.

"Eat a dick Walka." Boog said casually.

"Is that... a soda machine?" Richard asked, walking over toward the machine outside of the car shop.

"Gold, don't do it." Par advised.

"Woo! HEE!" Richard replied, paying for his drink.

"It'll take days to rid of your personality, don't drink a bunch of it... in fact, don't drink any at all!" Par suggested.

"Nah, about one Dr. Pepper will do." Richard replied.

"Ohhhhhh dear." Walker commented. The group prepared for terror as Richard gulped down his beverage.

"Woo-hah...." He muttered. "Don't worry, takes a moment to settle in. Now, we should find Bheel." Richard went off searching for the stench. About an hour later, Par predicted where Bill would go. He found the fish-like maniac at a cat store, threatening the owner.

"No! I cannot! The first pussy that licked me through the cage promised to be mine forever! That was our agreement!" Bill declared.

"Sir, you have to pay for the cat if you want it." A woman at the counter said.

"But I require a pussy-ah." Bill demanded.

"Heeeeey, Bill!" Par feigned cheerfulness again, greeting the stenchfest.

"Mastah Parax... come to kill my fun again-ah?" Bill asked.

"No, I came here to... fetch you!" Par grinned.

"Go!" Bill said, "And take that infernal attitude with you! I will not have it in my ears!"

"Look, we're in a bit of jam with that Cheesemonger fellow." Par said to Bill, having to forcefully drag Bill's face from his jaw so he would address Par and not the many cats. "You're going to have to stay with the group for the time being, otherwise we'll all get eaten by bears."

"Very well-ah." Bill seemed easily won over. They exited the shop until Par got ahead of Bill, who decided to try and give him the slip by blatantly turning around and bolting for the cat store.

"Wanker." Par looked over at him.

"You will not forestall my pussy-licking-ah!" Bill declared. This did nothing, as he was hit by a car. Five minutes later, Bane appeared. "Ah yes... I was wondering what would awaken first!" He started, "My Bane personality... or that pussy!" Bill looked at the cat store.

"Alright, Bill, are you going to obey, or do I have to force you into submission with moths?" Par gave the fake happiness sound to Bill again.

"Only you." Was Bill's response, although he began walking alongside Par. They arrived back at the shop, where the group met up again.

"Oh, you made it! I'm so thrilled." Richard commented.

"Let's not stand on ceremony here... Mr. Forkman!" Bill addressed Richard.

"I like forks... I like 'em! Now, which of you would like to go speak to Dent in there and hurry 'em the hell up!?" Richard burst into a mildly aggressive tone. "Oh, we only need one person in there right now, so we're gonna have... decision-making!"

"I'll get the Kinkmeister." Walker shrugged and headed into the shop.

"Keep an eye on Bill, he got ran over while trying to run away." Par said.

"That's what they said about my grandfather." Richard remarked. "Speakin' o which, ya know how I got these forks?"

"KINK!" Dent shouted as the Kinkmobile was moved out of the shop and onto the street. Fully upgraded, it was shining bright pink now with chrome and plastic styling all over it. The words "24-hour Calculus" returned to the side in bright green lettering.

"This is poofy." Boogie commented. "Like mah house."

"Boogie... no." Walker gestured.

"Boogie yes!" Boog said, pulling out a bag of chips from his pants. He ate half the bag... literally. Not all of the chips or all of the wrapper, just half... of both. Then he burped. "Gobble gobble gop."

"Why do I stick a fork in your eyeball, hmm?" Richard asked.

"Why don't I ram your mother in the butt?" Boogie attempted to make a joke.

"Nah." Was Richard's response.

"Get innnn, beyboooyz." Dent commanded. The group inserted themselves into the true Kinkmobile, weird happy music playing over the radio. Strange items could be seem all across the van. Most of which couldn't even be properly named. The moment of bliss (well, for Dent anyway) was ended when cop cars appeared on both sides of the Kinkmobile. Someone had seen them enter the shop.

"Alright, gentlemen..." The sheriff stepped out of one of the cars. About thirty other officers flanked him. "Where are those dad-gum sandwiches?"

"Does that really matter?" Asked a rather grumpy looking police officer.

"I'm afraid it does, Officer Bladmorgan." The sheriff replied, then took a megaphone and spoke in it. "Aight... we know yer in there, Mafians. Don't get outta yer vehicle. Instead, just sit tight. We'll be over there to getcha in just a moment."

"Sir, this wasn't part of the plan." Officer Blademorgan said, addressing a car which had one purpose - delivering sandwiches. Promptly, each officer was allotted one sandwich.

"Alrighty now, gentlemen... we have the jokers centralized to this vehicle. We're going to spread out and hit the vehicle from all sides. They might be armed, so be cautious." The sheriff said before taking a bite out of his sandwich. "Damn, I can't taste fookin' shat in this sandwich."

"Are we ready or what?" Joe asked. 

"Uhhhh, hold on, I'm screwin' with my sandwich." The sheriff began to take one piece of bread off of his sandwhich, but in the process the slice stuck to the contents resulting in it being torn in half. "Damn, I just made it worse."

"Who made these dad-gum sandwiches?" Bob, a rather angry looking officer, took a bite out of his sandwich and made unhappy looking faces whilst doing so.

"Willard's Wife." Said Officer Joe.

"Well, make your own dad-gum sandwiches!" Willard replied. 

"Look, nobody's sayin' they don't appreciate when Jenny did." The sheriff began, but was interrupted... 

"If all I had to do was take two pieces of bread and put something in between, I could have made it better than this!" Bob blurted angrily.

"How about you, Robert, is your Sandwich good?" A rather uneasy looking fellow asked. Robert replied, saying

"Not too good." Robert just stared at his sandwich. "I mean if I don't take my time chewing it, it tastes fine, more or less, but when it's in my mouth too long it starts sloshin' all over and then I'm eatin' vine." 

Suddenly, Peter's sandwich plummeted to the ground after he'd stared at it for a while."I just dropped mine. Did anybody bring an extra sandwich?" Peter asked towards the large group. 

"No, nobody brought an extra sandwich!" Bob replied angrily. 

"I was just askin." Peter stated.

"Do we have to eat the sandwiches today?" Joe asked.

"Well hell, if we don't bring food on this manhunt then that just defeats the purpose!" The sheriff declared, frustrated with the group. "My usual team's in the hospital right now due to some dad-gum saurcery. I wouldn't deal with this kind of horse radish with them, so you buttafingahs better just eat yer dad-gum sandwiches." 

"I can't taste smell anything good in this fuckin' sandwich!" Bob shouted, holding his sandwich with two bites taken out of it now. "I can't smell anything and I can't taste anything in this fuckin' sandwich!"

"Well screw all y'all, I'm goin' home!" Willard yelled. "I watched my wife work all day preparing thirty sandwiches for you ungrateful sons'o'bitches, and all I can hear is criticize, criticize, criticize! From now on, don't ask me to mind for nuthin!" Willard proceeded to storm off away from the group. 

"Now look, lets not forget why we're here." The sheriff started, his eyebrows raised and snot falling from his nose. we gotta apprehend some mafians over there... and we gotta make a lesson out of 'em." The sheriff proclaimed. 

"Okay I'm confused, are we bringing the sandwiches or not?" Peter asked. Suddenly, Robert cleared his throat. This sounded like soft angelic whistle.

"I think..." Robert began, "We all think... the sandwiches was a nice idea. I'm not pointin' any fingers... but they could've been made better. So how about no sandwiches this time.. but next time, we do the sandwiches right, and we go full manhunt." Everyone agreed with his proposition and began to put their sandwiches away until The sheriff intervened. 

"Wait a minute, I didn't say no sandwiches!" The sheriff reminded them. 

"But nobody can eat these." Peter complained.

"So?" The sheriff grew stiff.

"So, it'd be nice if it had taste!" Peter replied. The sheriff became flustered. 

"DUMMIT-GAD!" The sheriff sneezed. "This is a manhunt! I can't enjoy the sandwich, you can't enjoy the sandwich! So what? All that matters is can ya eat the dad-gum sandwich! That's a manhunt!" For some reason, this comment seemed to somehow rally the men. "I'm really thinking the people in charge made a serious mistake bringin' you people here."

"Not as serious as yours... I fear." Bill entered the scene.

Chapter 16: Investigation Edit

Bill confronted the sheriff and his unorthodox crew of police officers, who were all trying to eat sandwiches. Little did the walking trash can know, the sheriff had observed quite a lot of the damage that the group had done...

Two and a half hours ago...


The hour was 9:24 AM. Police cars scattered the area. A shop had been completely ransacked - and the sheriff was determined that he knew the culprits.

"I still reckon bears are behind dis 'ere." The sheriff said, blowing his nose and surveying the scene. He hadn't gone in yet, but he had made a deduction within a matter of seconds.

"How is that possible? Bears ain't that common 'round here, and I see no evidence that they was spookin' an'body here." Peter, a more benign police officer, commented before adjusting his belt around his large stomach and hunching himself forward to a more upright position. He was a bit overweight, but he was nothing compared to the Boogie Baby.

"It ain't the bears specifically doin' somethin here, buttafingah, they're indirectly causin' this!" The sheriff blew his nose violently, scrunching himself into a position of authority as he rested his hands on his hips. "Somehow, Gravy Bones and his Mafia have returned... they were known for transportin' cheese shipments illegally, and now their bears are destroying property along with these goons who's are workin' for 'em."

"But..." Robert entered the conversation, "there ain't no reason why they'd do that..." The cop paused, awkwardly searching for words.

"Dad-gummit, ya ain't gettin' it!" The sheriff exclaimed. "Ah, hell... I ain't expectin' y'all to understand this... just get me any evidence off 'ere ya can. I'm gon' have a look 'round."

"Are we ready, or what?" Joe asked.

"Yessum, get in dere, mugga." The sheriff instructed. Immediately, the authorities had noticed a lot of food unaccounted for. Several items were missing, but two witnesses, who also happened to be victims, were injured. One man had died. The sheriff finally took notice to this. "Where's the dad-gum docta!?" He asked, noticing the absence of any medical staff.

"He said he's on his way, sir." Joe answered. "Some kind of traffic problems due to a wreck."

"He better get his ass over here... hah, and here I thought I wanted to see the nurse's behind... ironic, ain't it?" The sheriff quacked. "What's this one got to say?" He gestured toward the counterman.

"He's been unresponsive, sir, other than calling 9/11 and telling us that the reason he's in his boxers is because one of the suspects stole his usual pants." Joe addressed the man, who was sitting on a bench and staring blankly at the floor.

"Aight, buttfella, I'll let it slide that ya ain't got any proper security cameras in here if ye'll give me some details." The sheriff said.

"He stole my pants..." The counterman mumbled. "He... he man-handled me."

"What did he look like?"

"He stole a trenchcoat... he smelled terrible, ah..." The counterman was still in shock after what had happened to him.

"Lemme get back to ya later, my docta's here." The sheriff turned to address the car that had just arrived. "Docta, why're you late, son?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I am only a doctor." The doctor, who seemed so stiff from cloth wrapping that he could barely walk, took a deep breath and stood still for a moment. He stared at the sky, barely alive enough to deal with the unorthodox sheriff who he'd grown to dislike. "It took some time to heal after that man attacked me with a laser. Luckily, I was able to patch myself up in the cornfields and suffer a much less gruesome fate than the others. Sir, a couple of them DIED!" The doctor had a sense of urgency in his voice. "Then, I was delayed by some sort of traffic incident occurring near a Dollar General..."

"Docta, did you say laser?" The sheriff grew stiff. "I told you, that was a case of magical SAURCERY! If I hadn't escaped and called for backup, we'd all been SAUCED!"

"Excuse me, sir, sauce?" The doctor was confused.

"Dad-gummit!" The sheriff quacked, then sighed. "Why do I even try anymore..."

"I do not know, sir." The doctor frowned.

"Anyways, we got two fellas here who need to be tended to, Docta." The sheriff addressed the employee and the counterman, both of whom were injured.

"Very well." The doctor replied.

"Now, while he deals with that, what've we got on the body?" The sheriff asked.

"Nobody cares about the fuckin' body!" Bob, the angry-looking police officer, approached the scene and immediately began fussing. "I can't smell anything on this fuckin' body and I can't SEE anything on this fuckin' body!" Bob threw down his notebook.

"Calm yo ass down, nigga." The sheriff suddenly perked up and glanced sternly at Bob, who gasped.

"I may have warts, but I AIN'T BLACK!" Bob shouted.

"Ye don't seem to be gettin' the point 'ere, son..." The sheriff drew his tissue and violently blew his nose into it before stuffing the dirty cloth into Bob's nose. The officer's eyes grew wider than his warts and he suddenly lashed out at the sheriff, grabbing him by his shirt collar and shaking him around angrily.

"Someone stop that man!" The doctor cried out before a handful of officers pulled Bob away from the sheriff.

"You would dare lay your hands on an officer of the law?" The sheriff brushed himself. "Take Bob away from the crime scene so he can cool off for a bit... wouldn't want him contaminating the evidence with his snot rags." The sheriff grinned and Bob shouted angrily as an escort escorted him away.

"Sir, are you alright?" The doctor asked.

"Docta, if I needed assistance, I'd go to a REAL doctor." The sheriff replied.

"How rude, sir."

"Yessum." The sheriff turned away and restated his question, "Now, what have we got on the dad-gum body?"

"Sir!" The new investigator got the sheriff's attention. "I am Investigator Kearse." He was a tall, lean fellow with very short hair and a bit of a deep voice with a slight British accent. "It would seem as though he suffered heavy trauma to the head, sir."

"Ahh-heuh, I was wonderin' which one of you yellowbellies was the new investigatuh." The sheriff addressed the man, kneeling down to observe the dead corpse,"Go on."

"From the evidence I've examined so far, it would appear he was likely shoved by someone." The investigator began, kneeling down in accordance, "If he tripped, it's unlikely that he would have been hit so hard."

"What did he hit?" Asked the sheriff.

"A mannequin, sir." The investigator rested his chin on his hand.

"And it killed 'em?"

"Apparently so, sir." The investigator squinted his eyes, "I can find no traces of any other injures; It would seem as though someone very physically strong simply shoved him into the mannequin."

"Well dayum." The sheriff quacked, "Anything details on him that I might oughta know?"

"He was a mechanic named Joey at Rodriguez' Car Shop on 12th Street, but that business is supposed to be closed at the time of night that this incident supposedly took place." The investigator explained.

"So he wudn't on work business." The sheriff snorted.

"Or was he?" The investigator squinted again, "The windows were broken through by a large vehicle, it would seem."

"Well yessum, we already know dat." The sheriff replied, "Unless a bear came in 'ere..."

"Sir, there are tire marks and there isn't an ounce of evidence supporting your bear theory."

"AAOURENT!" The sheriff squawked, "simply speculation, vestigatuh, simply speculation." He sneezed, calling for a tissue. A moment later, he continued... "Speakin' of speculation, I speculate that we might do well by investigatin' over in dem mechanics' lands. Send a couple of agents round dat way in a bit."

"A-very well." The investigator tended to his errand.

"Now... Peter, how's the second witness?" The sheriff asked.

"He's a bit nervous, sir, but he'll come around." Peter had a slight grin on his face and he seemed like he was doing better mentally than most of the authorities. "He's over here."

"Aight, buttafingah, can ya tell me what happened, or are ya gonna cock a nice doodle in yer doo about a smelly guy like the countaman over dere?" The sheriff addressed the employee.

"Well, there was a man who smelled really terrible..." The man had short black hair; He was the one who got hit by the Kinkmobile. "But I didn't see much of him."

"You were unconscious for a while... mind tellin' me how that happened?"

"I was about to contain the smelly one when he was man-handling the counterman, but I was hit from behind and knocked unconscious, I suppose." The man mumbled.

"Was it a vehicle, son?" The sheriff asked.

"It might have been.... I'm really not sure..."

"Aight." The sheriff frowned, "Can ya give me any more details?"

"One of them was very fat... obese, even." The employee began, "He was raiding one of the food racks when I tried to stop him. Other customers were disturbed, so they began to flee... one woman tried to make it out of the store with a product, but I chased her and acquired it."

"What product was that, buttafinga?"

"A shirtless Harry Potter doll, sir." The man sighed and the sheriff looked to the ceiling.

"And ya used the weapon we found on ya to dismantle this woman, did ya?"

"I have the right to carry a weapon!" The man seemed sensitive on this subject.

"I don't believe carryin' it in a mall meets this area's regulations, son."

"I've broken no rules, sir!" The man lashed out.

"Yes ya have, son... yes ya have." The sheriff shot a look at the man, "Peter, get this man in the car. Take 'em to Nancy, she'll know if he's done some'in wrong 'ere."

"You can't lock me up!"

"Sir, relax." The doctor entered the conversation. "May I take your blood pressure?"

"No! Leave me alone!" Suddenly, the man stormed off, running into the streets. "OOH OOH OOH!"

"Get that buttfella!" The sheriff shouted as the man flapped his arms around wildly and ran through the streets. Suddenly, a police car pulled in front of the man and blocked his path. Out of the vehicle stepped a rather tall officer with a massive pile of curly hair resting on his head. He had a consistent melancholy expression and his black and gray outfit style matched his face.

"Sheriff R-" The man began, but he was interrupted...

"I won't be personally addressed by the likes of you, Officer Bladmorgan." The sheriff grumbled, slowing down to a steady pace.

"It's Blademorgan," The man hesitated and gagged, "Sir." He smirked.

"Anyhow, buttfungus, dis 'ere fella tried tuh escape!" The sheriff squawked.

"What did you just call me?" Blademorgan raised his eyebrows.

"Ain't important, son, ain't important." The sheriff shrugged off the question.

"Whatever." Blademorgan sat his hands on his hips and looked to the concrete. "My men will deal with this man. In the meantime, continue your investigation - I shall assist you."

"Now, wait a minute!" The sheriff intervened, "Nobody said we wanted you 'ere."

"I was assigned, sir." Blademorgan remarked.

"Well ain't that just smokin' with a side of brisket?" The sheriff rolled his eyes. "Aight... let's see ere. Docta!"

"What else, sir?" The doctor snapped to attention.

"What's Willard doin?" The sheriff asked, "He's a good worker; Could use 'em for predictin' where these jokas will go."

"I am not sure, sir." The doctor frowned, "he was in the van last I checked."

"Get 'em back out 'ere." The sheriff ordered.

"A-very well, sir." The doctor readily walked off.

"Robert, how's it goin' with the counterman? How's he doin?" The sheriff asked as he returned to the building and addressed the situation.

"Not too good." Robert cooed, blankly staring over to the counterman who was still in the bench. "I mean, if you ask him about the smelly guy he talks alright, but when you start questioning him about the rest he starts spinnin' his story all over, and we're guessin' blind."

"Aight." The sheriff replied sternly, "Get Willard 'ere."

"I'm already here, sheriff." Willard joined the conversation, agitation and discomfort in his voice.

"What in the dad-gum hells have you been doing all this time, buttafingah?" The sheriff asked.

"I've been goin' through fingerprints!" Willard relied, "That's part of mah job, ain't it? I'm the fastest at it AND I quite enjoy it."

"We ain't got time for fingerprints, potato-masher." The sheriff sighed.

"For once, I agree with the sheriff." Officer Blademorgan commented, making a gesture with his hand that could've been easily interpreted as something inappropriate, "We have no time to analyze fingerprints, especially when we've already identified some of the culprits. We must track these criminals down!"

"I reckon he's right, buttafinga." The sheriff shrugged.

"Well, fuck all y'all!" Willard became angry, "I sat there and went through thirty fingerprints for you ungrateful sons o' bitches, and all I can hear is criticize, criticize, criticize!" Willard drew his badge and tossed it down to the ground in an angry fit. "From now on, don't ask me to investigate NUTHIN'!" He proceeded to begin walking off toward his car.

"Now Willard," The sheriff began, "Your wife made sandwiches for our manhunt, remember?"

"So!?" Willard pouted.

"So, it'd be a bit awkward for her to deliver those tasty sandwiches when ye ain't there, wudn't it?" The sheriff shrugged again.

"Ohhhh..." Willard growled as he stomped back and picked up his badge.

"Now, did anyone check out the bathroom? The sheriff asked.

"No, but I did discover that the Hawaiian Punch supply has been heavily ransacked." Peter mentioned.

"Dad-gummit!" The sheriff quacked, "Fine, I'll do it myself." As the sheriff made his way through the wrecked store, he noticed many officers examining clothing items. Finally, he reached the bathroom. "What the hell!?" He paused... a sneeze was heard. "Aight, Bladmorgan, you're in charge of the sink area."

"Fuck." Officer Blademorgan sighed.

"Sheriff! Sheriff!" Joe shouted, running into the bathroom. "A call-in from a citizen, sir. They say they've spotted a pink van."

"Well poo on you and burn my shoe, dummit-gad." The sheriff grinned. "Get the cars ready! We're gon' riiide." He glanced over at the stall. "Hey, I found a sock in here!"

Chapter 17: Kinkvergence Edit


Present time: ...

The hour was 11:54 AM. The scene was quite violent. There they were, seven so-called lunatics in a customized vehicle called the Kinkmobile. The authorities had them surrounded with about twenty police cars. The Kinkmobile could withstand gunfire, but its windows weren't prepared for much firepower. The group would need a distraction to escape the grudge-holding sheriff - and in the process, complete their mission serving the Cheesemonger.

Bill, the eighth "lunatic," stood outside the car, his arms crossed as he confronted the police.

"Mafian!" The sheriff addressed Bill, throwing his sandwich onto the ground and placing his hand on his firearm.

"Who the hell's this joker?" Bob angrily asked.

"You want a JOKER, do you?" Richard appeared with a creeper grin. "My mother always said 'careful what you wish for'... then again, my mother didn't like Dr. Pepper." He drew his hidden pistol in one hand and grabbed a fork from his pocket in another.

"I am Bane! Yes, that's my name... and when you hear the name Bane I guarantee you the pain!" Bill remarked.

"I said stay in the car, gentlemen..." The sheriff grew unhappy. "You dare disobey an order of the law?"

"Of course!" Bill replied.

"Now look, I'm in a hurry here." The sheriff replied, drawing a pistol. "So I'm gonna have to ask you to get back in the car right now, or so help me I'll be forced apprehend you in an aggressive fashion!"

"I'm on your schedule, sheriff." Bill said, unbuttoning his jacket and removing his Wolverine shirt. He raised his armpits... "Baaaaaare... STENCH! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" Bill yelled, charging forward. Instantly, ten officers passed out due to the smell.

"Saurcery!" The sheriff declared. Bill promptly grabbed a man's sandwich, coated it in sweat from his pit, and bitch-slapped an officer with it. One officer stood up after falling from the stench.

"So you came back to die with your shitty..." Bill addressed him.

"No... I came back to arrest you!" The man said. He charged at Bill, but this did nothing, as the stenchfest simply threw an armpit hair at his nose, immobilizing him.

"Men, guns! Guns at the ready!" Officer Blademorgan ordered.

"Nah." Richard declared, aiming his pistol. "Hee hee, ha-ha-ha, WOO-hah heee, WOO hah haaaaaa." Richard began shooting down policemen, although he was wobbling his arms around frantically and missing many of his shots. As he fired, he'd shout "WOO! WOO! WOO-HAH! WOO-HEEE!"

In fact, most of Richard's bullets ended up hitting officers in the arms, legs, or feet. He threw forks at the armed ones, too, disarming several of them. Bill grabbed two men and sent them both into his pits, knocking them unconscious.

"You fight stench with gunfire," Bill said, dipping his hand into his armpit and staring downward. He and Richard had incapacitated enough of the cops to give the humanoid toilet time for a rant. "Powerful.... but stinky!" Bill released his hand from his pit before dramatically shoving his palm forward as if he were trying to get someone to stop. Suddenly, a strange yellowish green aura that seemed to be made of liquid and goo formed in his hand and burst out at the officers. Eight policemen went down.

"Retreat, dummit-gad!" The officers obeyed their leader's command. "Get outta here, buttafingers, we gotta regroup and shoot down these potato salad-eatin, bear-riding mafians!"

"Baykinkbays, get back innnn." Dent demanded. Richard and Bill returned to the Kinkmobile. "I see some more baybitchbays comin'.... gotta be readeh for kinks." Dent, for once, seemed partially serious. "Walka bibeeh, get out of the car."


"Out of the car, beyboooy." Dent demanded. Walker stepped out. "Now, I temporarily... and I MEAN temporarily... bestow upon you the greatest honor of the Kink." Dent declared as his pried his women off of his and set their hands on Walker's arms. "The baybayz."

"But Dent..." Walker was interrupted,

"No buts!" Dent paused, "Well... two butts... mmmmmm."


"I'm gonna need to drive, beyboy. This is gonna be a mula hula bumpy riiide." Dent licked his lips, then took the wheel.

"Never seen him give his women to anyone else before." Par remarked.

"These civilized women... they'll eat each other." Richard began on a rant.

"That's nasty." Boogie commented.

"Hypocrite!" Bill squawked. *Read Narration

"SHADDA FACK AHP, BHEEL." Boog squawked. *

"Nobody cared who you were until you ate all the FAT!" Bill quacked. *

"BILL, SHAT AAAAAHP!" Boog quacked. *

"BAYKINKBAYS!" Dent summoned the group. "No time for chattin." He declared, making a U-turn with the Kinkmobile and totaling a cop car before resuming casual travel on a road. Sirens could be heard from all directions as the authorities closed in on them.

"Dent, they're gonna catch us! This thing sticks out like a sore thumb!" Walker yelled. Dent ignored this, pressing down on the ignition...

"KINK KINK KIIIIIIINK!" (*Literally say this as three 'kink's. Don't yell "KINK KINK KINK KINK etc etc etc*) The Kinkmeister continued to say kink as he drove his Kinkmobile through the streets. A cop car positioned itself behind them. "Seatbelts, beyboys!" Dent ordered as he abruptly stopped the vehicle. The police car that was trailing them suddenly rammed right into the Kinkmobile and ruined itself. Dent resumed driving.

"I'm gonna puke out a whale." Boogie said.

"Please don't." Par commented.

"Why so sausagey?" Richard added. More police cars trailed them, some with passengers using guns to try and stop the Kinkmobile. The tires were taking damage. "Denty Denty Denty, scuse me, you need to drive!" Richard remarked. The Kinkmobile was narrowly navigating through the small streets of the town, but it was taking hits. Dent had to move. He swerved to the side, destroying a cop car and finding a larger road. "Nooow we're talkin."

"MMMMMMMMMMMM!" Dent exclaimed as he ran over a pedestrian. Hopefully, the person would live. About twenty cop cars trailed them at this point. Eventually, Dent brought them onto a four-lane road. It looked like there was an entire army of police cars behind him, with a lot of empty road in front of the Kinkmobile.

"Dent, you've doomed us all!" Par exclaimed as their situation seemed hopeless.

"SHUT THE FACK UP AND SAVE US!" Boogie blurted. Bill, however, who had stayed quiet to entertain himself with the chase, saw something out of the corner of his eye...

"Time to commence human erradocation." Bill said confidently. "The pussy would be proud..."

"Wut." Walker said abruptly. "I don't understand anything that Bill or Boogie are saying."

"I don't think Bill or Boogie understand what Bill and Boogie are saying." Par remarked.

"MMMM, I like me dem big favors.." Dent declared. "I'd say desperate tiems, but we've fien nao." Suddenly, a dozen additional pink vans appeared. They didn't come from any spot specifically, they just converged slowly out of all directions. The extra Kinkmobiles positioned themselves near the main van and flanked Dent accordingly.

"Son of a bitch." Par commented. Two kinkmobiles came up on each side of one cop car, squeezing and destroying it instantly. "Where were these wankers when we were getting attacked by bears!?"

"DAD-GUM MAFIANS GOT A FOOKIN' ARMY!" the sheriff gazed at horror from his vehicle.

"Which one do we follow, sir?" asked Joe.

"I think," Robert began over the communications. "We all think..."

"I don't fookin' know and I don't fackin' care!" The sheriff seemed amazed by what was happening. A stampede of pink vans lined up on one road, totaling enforcement vehicles like it was child's play. "I know what did this...." The sheriff sneezed so hard that he honked his horn. "Bears."

"FOR THE KINKY GOODNEESSSSS!" Dent declared on his personal radio as all of the vans followed him back into the town. Each taking separate routes, the Kinkmobiles wrecked through signs, mailboxes, and anything else left near the streets.

"Does anyone have a visual on the target? I got caught in traffic." Blademorgan asked over the radio.

"No!" Bob shouted. "Nobody has a visual on the fuckin' target!"

"What!? How'd you lose a bright pink van?" asked Officer Blademorgan.

"Because there are TWENTY OF THEM, BUTTFUNGUS!" The sheriff barked. "Decoy vans.... mafians know what they're doin."

"Now is not the time for fear... actually, forget it, NOW IS THE TIME FOR FEAR! HOLD YOUR HEAD DOWN AND WONDER WHYYY, WHY YOOOU AS YOU PATHETIC FOOLS DIE OF KINK!" Bill yelled. Suddenly, a group of cars made their way in front of the cavalry. This did nothing, as Dent's personal kinkmobile completely destroyed a police car upon ramming into it.

"WOO! WOO! WOO-HAH!" Richard cheered on the chase. Some cars came up to the side of the main Kinkmobile, but Dent had other plans.

"Chainsaw, buh-baaaaai!" Dent declared, activating a switch that sent some sort of mechanical arm out of the Kinkmobile. Holding a chainsaw, the arm slammed down on the cop car, immobilizing it.

"I like that." Richard commented. Eventually, a policeman with a machine gun began blasting away at the bright pink vans. This did nothing, as the armor on the Kinkmobiles seemed immune to this petty gunfire.

"These things are built to withstand that?" Par asked.

"MMMMMMMM, das right, smexily dexyman... they're gonna need somethin' a lot bigger to get through dis." Dent explained. Sure enough, a car behind them procured a large weapon.

"Is that a bazooka..." Walker took notice. "OOOOOOD!"

"DEPLOY FLARES, BEYBAAAAAH!" Dent ordered, pressing a switch to send pink and green flares out of the rear end of the vehicle. This worked, as the incoming missile was hit by one of the flares, causing it to explode. The fire totaled the car behind it, sending it crashing into a Chinese restaurant. The kinkmobiles converged for one final assault. They found themselves on two large parallel roads. Ignoring flowing traffic, a trail of pink zoomed by across the pavement.

"They've got bigger weapons coming in." Par mentioned. "Alright marines, we ain't fightin' Jim Logan no more."

"KINK." Dent replied abruptly, grabbing his radio. "MACHINE GUNS, BAYBAAAAAAYZ!" He declared as each and every Kinkmobile had someone from the back fire a large machine gun at the opposing cars. The group's vehicle did this automatically, but Richard wanted a more personal touch.

"What's a human donut? YOU, when I'm done!" Richard grinned, gazing upon the armored vehicles approaching. He grabbed the machine gun and, once a target was close enough, began firing away. "WOOHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"MORE FIREPOWER, BAYBOYS!" Dent declared as someone in all of the Kinkmobiles fired military-grade missiles out of their sides and into the armored vehicles. Richard blasted chaos into smaller vehicles while Walker threw fruit at the damaged cars. One armored truck managed to ram into a kinkmobile and destroy it, but there were many more. Eventually, a truck came for the main vehicle.

"DENT!" Walker exclaimed, seeing this coming, when suddenly... "BEEEARS!" Two bears came crashing into the armored vehicle, throwing it aside.

"About damn tieeem they aren't hittin' my car, bubuh!" Dent chirped.

"Finally, the wankers are on our side!" Par remarked.

"Bout bloody time." Richard's normal voice crept in. Apparently he didn't drink enough Dr. Pepper.

"Alright beybeeeehz, part waaaaays." Dent managed to arrive near Blake Stewart's entertainment store. "Stealth tieem... Walka baybay, you know what to do." As Dent said this, he stopped the car in an ally and Walker hopped out.

"Indeed!" Walker somehow fit the entire Kinkmobile into his bag. Then, he grabbed a water bottle from his bag and splashed it on his hair. Without the poofy hair, he resumed his march as he strolled across the sidewalk casually. The police in the car closest to them arrived at the ally.

"Where the hell did they go?" An officer asked. Walker happily marched over to a parking lot and waited for the opportune moment. Inside the Kinkmobile, inside the bag, the group took a moment to rest...

Chapter 18: Kittehland (The Store) Edit


The hour was 9:07 PM. The group had recovered from their high-speed escape from the authorities and remained comfortable inside the Kinkmobile. Walker had plenty of fruit to feast on in his bag, and Boogie had packed enough sodium in his pockets, pouches, armpits, beard, and ass that he could be considered a creature that belonged in the sea. Well, Bill probably already called him a dried out fish. Speaking of Bill, he had fallen asleep again, which meant a new set of insults would be arriving alongside his consciousness, and, of course, his stench.

The orange man-purse sat comfortably in an ally near Blake Stewart's entertainment store. However, the bag was not accompanied by its usual blue-haired owner. Suddenly, the bag began to shake.

"LET ME OUT OF THIS THING!" Boog shouted. His voice was barely audible, because the metallic zipper was slightly open to allow a tiny pocket of air to exit the man-purse. "I NEED TO GO!"

"Strangely G-rated for the obnoxious puffer fish that you are, Boogie." Richard commented, inside the Kinkmobile, inside the bag. His Dr. Pepper had run its course and he was back to his wise-cracking self.

"No, Gawld." Boogie grumbled, fiddling with his pockets. "Wait... uhm, wat."

"Can't find your genitals among all of your fat?" Par remarked.

"WHERE IS IT!?" Boogie grumbled, panicking and shouting in a fit. He eventually pulled a stick of deodorant from his pocket. "Wat da fack is dat?"

"It appears to be some deodorant. Give it to Bill." Par suggested.

"BILL!" Boogie shouted at the unconscious fest of stench that lied in the seat across from him. Suddenly, Bill opened his eyes and started bobbing his head around wildly, frantically rolling his eyes in all directions and opening his mouth like a lunatic. Then, he swiftly turned his head to address Boogie sharply.

"Come to end my nap again, Mr. Boogie-ah?" Bill's fish-like voiced squished again, his lips swashing and his nose scrunched.

"Explain this, and then use it!" Boogie handed Bill the deodorant.

"That deodorant is signed to a specific soul-ah." Bill replied. Boog read the word "Suave" changed into "Susan."


"Phone? Wot!" Par took notice.

"My phone was taken. Why should the fate of your phone be any different-ah!?"

"Wait, if you had a phone this whole time, why didn't we use it to escape before we ever got dragged into the Cheese man's ego tower!?" Richard asked.

"Well, uh," Boogie froze, fiddling with the deodorant. "I ate it."

"Then why does Bill have it!?" Richard interrogated, spotting Bill grinning and dangling the phone in his hand next to Boogie.

"HA HA!" was Bill's input. Boogie attempted to snatch the phone, but Bill pulled it away each time he tried. "No you won't! HA HA!"

"Kink." was Dent's input. Speaking of Dent, he'd taken Walker's place in the back, reuniting with his women.

"BILL, TAKE THE DEODORANT AND GIVE ME MY PHONE!" Boog demanded and grumbled.

"No, I cannot! The first phone I found promised to be mine forever! That was our agreement!" Bill replied. Nonetheless, Boogie sat the deodorant on Bill's leg. As if he were disgusted by it, Bill took the "Susan" product and stuffed it in his coat pocket. "For now-ah."

Suddenly, a hand swooshed in from the top of the bag and grabbed one of Dent's women. Dent and his women soon exited the bag.

"Stay here!" Walker suggested, having just brought Dent out of the bag. Walker ran around a corner, then returned dragging two unconscious bodies with him. One of them was the doctor, and the other was a random police officer.

"MMMMM, who are these speshuls?" Dent asked.

"They were getting onto me; I had to remove them from the equation," Walker replied. "Where should I put them?"

"These baybeys will enjoy some nice calculus if they're educated...." Dent examined the men. "Mmmmmmm, Walka, put 'em in the Kinkmobile."

"Okie!" Walker replied promptly before tossing the men into the bag, and, subsequently, into the Kinkmobile. Shortly thereafter, he dragged Par and Richard out of the bag, but the last two group members gave him trouble. When he tried to pull Boogie out, he accomplished nothing. Walker attempted to tip the bag over so that Boogie would fall; this did nothing, as Boogie was caught between different objects inside the bag. It wasn't until Bill pushed the incredible creature out of the bag that he finally wobbled free. Bill managed to get out himself, and Walker opened twelve air fresheners and put them in different places throughout his orange man purse.

"Ah, land." Bill said for what felt like the tenth time. The group noticed that Bill was now carrying a strange, green-looking, stick-like object that was attached to his belt.

"Hey, that's my Ood stick!" Walker shouted.

"Charles Walker," Bill began. "Do you fear stench-ah?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Spoderman," Walker replied. "Wait, how do you know my name's Charles."

"One name is not equal to another." Bill responded.

"Dowut?" Walker asked, but Bill simply raised his upper lips and smirked before turning away and ignoring the question. Walker persisted, "That stick is a branch of an Oodian tree; it is not to be tampered with! Give it here"

"And what would prompt such an act of charity?" Bill raised his eyebrows.

"Uh, I can make you smell better?" Walker suggested. This seemed to only anger the smelly Billiam, as he suddenly widened his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"My hygiene was forfeit long ago, WHAAAAAAUGH!!!" Bill yelled, pulling the stick out of his belt and waving it around like a sword. He charged at Walker, who prepared oranges and bananas. Before the two could initiate combat, however, Richard intervened. The Dr. Pepper-loving wise-cracker proceeded to stand between the two of them, catching Bill's hand and preventing him from harming the blue-haired man.

"Sausages!" Then, he promptly kicked Bill in the crotch, to which the stenchfest responded...


"Mmmmm, whaaa me all day long, biebuh." Dent grinned as he stretched his body, signaling his women to do so as well.

"Alright, sausagedoodles," Richard addressed the group. "We're near the entertainment shop owned by the bastard known as Blake Stewart, correct?"

"I made sure to park us nearby, yes." Walker responded appropriately.

"Alright," Richard randomly turned to point at Par, then he turned and looked at Boogie and Walker. "We've already seen bears twice, killed police officers, and led a personal military force of 'kink' through a town. We've already pissed enough people off, so let's try to get this cheese for this monger before he gives us the treatment he gave Boogie."

"Eugh." Boogie commented. "Dat was nasty."

"I cannot be commanded like some--" Bill was cut off.

"AEEH!" Par, who was casually leaning against a wall while sculpting some sort of voodoo doll out of twist ties, interrupted Bill abruptly."He's right."

"Do not... interrupt... m--" Bill was cut off.

"AEEH!" Par interrupted Bill again. "No, Bill, stop fighting and get your damn ass moving. Nobody here wants to deal with your shit, so that makes you outnumbered."

"For now-ah." Bill turned away dramatically. The group made their way to the store, which was recognized by its front sign that read "Kittehland." It was a small locally-owned establishment, clearly not a chain or a large business. Feline imagery accompanied by blue and white stripes lined the windows, along with posters for movies, games, and music.

"Alright," Richard began. "This Blake is quite a sausage, so handle him with some... patience."

"No promises-ah." Bill replied.

"Let's just get the cheese and get out," Par suggested. "We all know what it tastes like, so it shouldn't be too hard."

"Dat was good cheese." Boogie slobbered and then gulped. Dent, who seemed careless at the time, kept his usual confident, happy expression. Walker was stiff and prepared for whatever was thrown at him. Bill farted.

"Let's move." Richard declared as the group entered the store. Strange, eerie, electronic music played over the radio. Random posters on the walls were filled with a combination of the letters M, D, Z, O, and the number 8. No sensible meaning could be associated with these posters; they were utter randomness.

There were only about five customers and two employees to be seen. The employees wore the uniforms of referees except with blue stripes instead of black. They also wore old-fashioned caps and walked around the store derpily. Behind the counter stood the owner himself, Blake Stewart. He had short black hair, a large nose, and a consistent expression of arrogance, aggression, and condescension. His face screamed "self-entitled," and his ever-so-often-appearing, forced grin backed it up further. He wore a gray suit, a white shirt, a blue tie, and khakis. He was sitting in a cheap chair as he laid back, his hands behind his head. His posture implied a distant, disconnected human being whose self esteem depended on a forcefully exaggerated ego. Before he could notice the group, his phone rang. What took place after that was a rather brief occurrence of insanity. The only things audible from Blake were "REALLY? No. Ohmahgawd. LOL! LOLOL! Wow." Blake proceeded to hang up his phone.

"I hate him already-ah." Bill commented upon entrance. "Although, I must admit, he clearly admires the pussy. This calls for some form of respect-ah."

"What if he 'disgraces' the pussies?" Richard asked. "Doesn't even own a cat. He just blurts out the title like a special person."

"In that case, there is only one price I will accept." Bill was just staring at Blake from the distance. "Blake Stewart... stenched."

"Finally something we can agree on." Richard remarked. The group continued inwards.

"A-HEY, welcome to Kittehland! HAIL KITTEHLAND!" Blake shouted from the counter. He stood up, noticing the large group that had just entered his shop. He looked at Dent's women. "Woah."

"Hey, beybeeeeh." Dent did his usual stretch and flex, prompting his women to do the same. "I am the very smexily dexy kinkylicious Dentface... otherwise known as the Slashah of the seeeeas. I'm the Kinkmeister!"

"Alright." Blake said, not processing anything that Dent said into his mind. Suddenly, Richard took a few steps closer.

"Greetings, Blake." Richard said with a sly grin.

"No." Blake took a moment to address the half-Brit. "Goldvane! What are you doing in my store?" Blake seemed like he wanted to leave his counter, but he stayed there, standing awkwardly as a customer waited for him to check his items.

"Now, Mr. Stewart, we went over this," Richard raised his eyebrows. "My name's Richard Nolan, NOT Goldvane."

"Well, Goldvane, I don't think I want to go with that." Blake swished his tongue a lot as he talked. "Anyways, no. So, why are you in here? Can I get you something, or.... what? Hmm?"

"Well, actually, we're looking for cheese." Par joined the conversation, approaching the counter next to Richard.

"Well well well, looks like we've got Parax AND Goldvane! What a day." Blake remarked.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but how do you guys know him?" Walker asked.

"It's long story, I'm afraid. Too long to tell." Richard replied, but Blake had other plans.

"Oh!" Blake scoffed, then looked at Walker. "You wanna know, do you? He won't tell you."

"Because we're pressed for time, I'm afraid," Richard grunted. "Now, the cheese."

"Nah, nah." Blake shook his head. "Let me give you a history lesson. I was on a boat going to the POTCO Player Island..."

"The wut?" Walker asked.

"Uh." Blake stopped. He searched for words, but found nothing. "That really is too long of a story, lol. So. Anyway, I met Goldvane on the boat to the island. Once we got there, there was one night, you know, where we were all gaming, right, and I started roleplaying. You know. HAIL KITTEHLAND! And suddenly, well, I said some things. Things I didn't mean... I didn't mean any of them..." Blake stirred off, ripping one of his fingernails and tossing it to the ground. "but I said them. And Goldvane BANNED me!"

"Banned you? Dowut?" Walker was confused.

"I'm afraid that's enough." Richard chimed in. "Now, if you can tell us where you cheese is, we'd like to buy some of it."

"Well, Goldvane, the cheese is in the back," Blake began, "We don't sell it except for when Tyler comes in. He likes to make people guess which cheese is the Swiss cheese and stuff... you know. But he hasn't been here for a while. He'll be here soon, though."

"We are in a hurry, Mr. Stewart, so we'll need to buy some. Can you get it out, or are you incapable of lifting a slice of cheese?" Par asked.

"Well, okay, rude. Wow." Blake threw his hands up.

"The cheese, Blake." Richard gave Blake a serious expression.

"Wow. Like, no." Blake had the expression of a kid whose toy had gotten broken. "Well, Goldvane, I don't think I like you interrupting my story like that. I think I'm gonna have to ask you to, like, LEAVE. And no cheese."

"Well, Blake, I think I'm tired of your shit." Richard drew a fork. "Direct to the cheese now, or this eating utensil is going up your rear."

"Woah." Blake shrugged, "LOL. You think I'm scared of that shit, Goldvane!? REALLY!?"

"MMMMMMMMMMM." Dent stated. "While this is all nice, hot, steamy, and kinky, mah behbehs and I need some privacy. To the bathroooom."

"Do I even want to know?" Par asked.

"No." Richard sighed.

"I must make a deposit to the depths." Bill declared. "To the stalls-ah."

"Boogie, start looking for cheese." Richard suggested.

"Ugh!" Blake replied.

"Okai." Boogie slurped. "Gotta find cheese, gotta find cheese... cheeeeeese." Boogie blurted as he looked through the room.

"Boogie, he said it'd be in the back!" Richard facepalmed. "And don't eat any..."

"No promises, hueh hueh hueh," Boogie altered his course. "Gobble gobble gop." He made his way to the back of the store, but was halted by an employee.

"Sir, this section is for employees of KITTEHLAND only. HAIL KITTEHLAND!" The employee said.

"I work here." Boogie lied.

"A-verah well." The employee replied and Boogie marched into the back.

Meanwhile, Bill and Dent entered the bathroom. Dent and his women immediately entered one of the stalls, but Bill was distracted when he saw two people at the sinks. He approached one man and poked him in the back.

"Do you fear stench-ah?" Bill asked, moving closer to the man, who was drying off his hands with some paper. "Do you fear that terrible odor?"

"Woah, dude... this is gettin' creepy." The man replied.

"All your senses laid numb... all your nose hairs punished-ah?" Bill continued. "I can offer you..." Bill pulled out the "Suave" stick. "A stick of deodorant." Bill was right in the man's face now.

"Uh, what?" The man asked. He seemed like he was considering taking the offer.

"Don't listen to that creep!" The other man saw what was happening.

"Do you not... fear stench?" Bill addressed the second person.

"I shower every day..." The man raised an eyebrow at Bill, who snarled.

"To the pits-ah." Bill declared after a moment of hesitation. Suddenly, he man-handled the customer and sent the man's head into his armpit. As Bill used his smell to kill the man, he laughed. "Haha, haha."

"You're a cruel monster!" The first man addressed Bill.

"The fresh is cruel. Why should the stench be any different-ah!?" Bill jammed his stick into the ground twice. "I can offer you... deodorant. Take this deodorant and postpone the odor. One hundred smells before the stench. Will ye sniff?"

"I... will sniff." The man hesitantly took the deodorant.

"A-there-ah!" Bill let out a weird noise as this happened. Then, he looked to a man who was awkwardly standing at one of the urinals. "You. You are neither fresh nor stinky. What is your purpose here?"

The man turned around slowly, giving Bill a confused look. "Uh... Blake Stewart told me to go fuck myself?"

"What is your purpose here?" Bill asked again, moving closer.

"Blake Stewart... told me to go fuck myself?" The man hoped that the answer would please the smelly Billiam.

"Did he now? I'm sorely tempted to accept that offer." Bill turned to look toward the door.

Meanwhile, Blake was still arguing with the group. "Get OUT of the store! I'll ban YOU!" Blake shouted.

"Oh, that's ironic." Richard commented. Blake turned around in frustration, only to find Bill standing right there behind him.

"You're a store owner... plastering cat images around your shop... and you don't even own a cat. THAT is unacceptable." Bill took a step forward each time he spoke and Blake took a step back each time before.

"Well, uh, wow. I can't afford a cat, man. Does this look like a Walmart to you?" Blake smirked. "What's your name anyway?"

Suddenly, Bill broke out into a rant. "You can't afford a cat? They're four fookin' dollars, mate! You're telling me that you have money to own a store but not buy a cat, you insolent, worthless fool......-ah!?" Bill spat. Before Blake could speak, he continued. "... and then you are a poor store owner who uses cat posters... without owning a cat... but a store owner who uses cat posters without owning a cat nonetheless. Have you not introduced yourself all these years with 'ALL... HAIL... KITTEHLAND'-ah!?" Bill mocked and the rest of the group laughed. "And m'name's Bill, but call me Davy Jones."

"Davy Jones? ROFL!" Blake said verbally. "And, like, dude, we have a cat over there. It's Tyler's cat, but we have a cat that stays in the store." Blake replied.

"One pussy is not equal to another." Bill corrected.

"Oh, so you LIKE the cat, but now we're arguing over the price? Do you want the cat?" Blake asked.

"Price?" -plip-

"How much for the cat? Hmm?"

"No." Bill corrected. "You will acquire more pussies... yourself."

"How many cats do you want me to buy, exactly?" Blake asked.

"One cat... for each poster. As a START-ah!" Bill demanded.

"ROOOFL!" Blake yelled, moving around frantically. "This guy thinks I'm serious! He thinks I'm gonna buy a cat. LOL."

"Look, Bill, let us handle Blake. You help Boogie with finding the cheese." Richard suggested.

"Ten years I devoted to the pussies that they charged me," Bill explained. "Ten... YEARS... I looked after the cats who were left to stray. And finally... when I can avenge the cats who were wronged... you won't let me. Why won't you let me?"

"Look, I'd love to put a bullet in Blake right now, but I don't want to wait any longer on this cheese errand." Richard explained. "I also don't want to get eaten by bears, so get moving."

"A compelling argument. Verah well." Bill replied. "But, in the end, there is only one price I will accept: Blake Stewart... STENCHED." Bill made his way to the back of the store.

"Well," Blake began. "That Bill guy was on his period, huh?"

"You wot, now?" Par asked.

"Goldvane! Are you listening!?" Blake asked.

"You think I ever listened to you, Blake?" Richard asked, his eyes fixed on one of the windows. He'd seen something going on out there, but he couldn't quite make it out.

"You banned me for spelling out FUBAR verbally, but you aren't even gonna admit that the Bill dude was on a period? That's unfair. You need to get your rules together. Come on."

"Get my rules together?" Richard asked, wearing a confused expression while still looking toward the window.

"That was ban was unfair, Goldvane. You know it." Blake whined.

"Uh-huh, nah." Richard replied.

"Another admin told me it wasn't a bad thing, so now you're telling me that didn't matter?" Blake pouted.

"No." Richard said, annoyed. "He never said that. You produced random quotes out of your ass."

"That's an offensive comment, Goldvane." Blake frowned. "I think you have to get banned for that. It's against the store rules!"

"Blake, do you still want the fork in your nostrils?" Richard raised his eyebrows but still refrained from looking at Blake.

"Look, I was banned for a crappy reason. Can you just admit that and move on?" Blake persisted. Richard sighed, rolled his eyes, and then looked downward. "I said I was sorry. You just get off to banning people though, huh? One day after my last ban. ONE DAY. And you got me for six months. Well, I never saw you again after that. You know how that feels? Terrible ban, terrible decisions, terrible admins."

Suddenly, Richard's eyes grew wide and he spawned a freakish smile that no one could even see. Then, he turned to Blake with a dead serious expression.

"First off, you violated rules 2, 3, 11, 17, 34, and 36. If not for the idiotic leniency of two others, you would have been kicked from the establishment long before your fourth ban, Mr. Stewy." Richard continued on a stern rant.

"Welp, he got 'em serious." Par shrugged.

"It's kind of scaring me." Walker replied. "In Ood, nobody ever talks like that."

"In Ood, I don't think Richard would be welcome." Par remarked.

"I don't think any of you would be welcome." Walker frowned. "Except Dent, since he's obviously the Kinkmeister."

"Right." Par feigned knowledge. Walker observed the posters and decorations around him.

"This store really is a disgrace to felines." Walker commented. Blake and Richard continued their argument...

"What did I do? WHAT DID I DO, HUH!? I made a phone call!" Blake whined.

"No, you contacted the other building and told them all where we were. People wanted that division private, but you decided to tell the whole island, including John fucking Breasly, where we were!"

"No I didn't." Was Blake's only response.

"You then proceeded to post a blog on the group's website, plastering the words 'BILL'S RAPING KITTY' everywhere." Richard paused when he saw that Walker was wearing a horrified expression. "Not that Bill." Richard quickly drew the topic back on hand.

"Well, he wuz. He wuz raping her." Blake frowned. "He kissed her, so..."

"That is absolutely, entirely, and illogically, irrelevant!" Richard sighed. "You pissed off the entire group with your shit."

"Wow." Was his initial response. "And to think, you called ME rude! Anyways... all I wanted to do was come and contribute. I mean, you wouldn't even THINK about unbanning me. Just consider it, I thought, maybe you would..."

"Nah." Richard leaned forward slightly. "I'm a man of my wooord."

"Why, though? Because, like, you reeeeallly cared about those people. You think I didn't watch you?" Blake spat.

"I did my job. My caring was irrelevant, like your tantrum." Richard smirked.

"Your job? You act like you're still loyal to them. But you abandoned them and sat your ass down!" Blake whined.

"My first and only allegiance is to the Core." Richard said sternly. Nobody knew what this meant.

"That's... not important!" Par added.

"Did it even matter at that point?" Blake spat again. "You left the main group to make your little clan. Don't lie. You know you did."

"I retired, then found better employment. I'm both an agent of order and an agent of chaos. Got a problem?" Richard gave Blake a half-grin.

"Yeah." Blake smirked. "You're a quitter."

"I'm no longer entitled to that shit-hole. I quit nothing." Richard's grin was gone now and he was learning to the side slightly. "You, on the other hand, have apparently quit something... your attempt to engage in any romantic relationship... because your hands are still raw."

"Now, I could go tell them all that you said that. But am I going to?" Blake forced a smile, but he was clearly getting desperate.

"Go ahead." Richard grinned. "The only ones I cared about knew then that it was a hellhole."

"I'm not even going to bother." Blake pouted. "You know why? Cause I still think there's a chance you can get over this."

"Get over this?" Richard rolled his eyes. "You still think that the whole thing was all about how I feel personally, or something like that? You know, we actually got close to removing your ban after a while... but then you came back, tried to throw things in our window, and screwed it all up for yourself."

"I SCREWED IT UP!?" Apparently, this got to Blake. "YOU SCREWED IT UP. I didn't do anything there. Nothing happened in your division! It ALL happened on the MAIN SITE and the MAIN FUCKING BUILDING!"

"Hee hee... ha ha ha." Richard grinned, realizing he'd finally gotten to Blake. However, he frowned when Blake's voice grew to an irritating pitch.


"Enough!" Richard snapped. "Do you not realize how much of a greasy, ignorant, uneducated, socially incapable waste of flesh you are? Not only do you posses a complete, utter disregard for all of those around you, but..." Richard was cut off,

"NO! Goldvane, STFU. Just. LISTEN!" Blake spazzed, but Richard suddenly revealed his fork and held it up to Blake's throat, nudging him and forcing his chin upwards.

"Yooou will not interrupt me, you whining bastard. As I was saying... you also seem to fondle an arrogant, uncaring, disconnected, and mentally unstable attitude that compliments sooooo well with your apparent ejaculation to angering other human beings," Richard continued... "In short, no, nobody wants you, Blake. Nobody wants to talk to you, hear from your, be your friend, or play a game with you. The only purpose you serve is annoying, belittling, insulting, and agitating other people. You possess no sensible form of logic, morals, social adaptability, or acceptable behavior in general whatsoever. The only words you know are fuck, fap, and LOL. You were given an easy treatment on that island, Blakey. Don't make me give you the hard version." Richard's eyes met with Blake as he shoved the fork forward a bit. Blake was now whimpering and shaking. Despite this, he still tried to talk tough.

"Still easy to get to, eh, Goldvane?" Blake slobbered.

"Says the one who just had a whining fit." Richard gritted his teeth.

"Fit?" Blake squeaked.

"Aye, fit, ye damned sausage." Richard remarked.

"Me? ME!?" Blake squawked. "YOU had a fit! You're the one getting pissed off here, pal."

"Naaah." Richard grinned again. "This is me... greatly disturbed. You haven't seen me pissed off."

"Really, Goldvane? Then what are you liked pissed off, huh? You talk big... but no. NO! I'm not scared of you."

"Oh, you really should be, though." Richard smirked. "Here, I'll give you a sample." Suddenly, Richard pulled the fork away from Blake's throat and impaled it directly into Blake's left hand, pinning him to the desk.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Blake squeaked.

As all of this went down, a man in a purple T-shirt zipped casually around the store, ripping off cat posters and stuffing them into his pants. He even took some of the statues of the kitties and stuffed them into his trousers as well. It seemed that no matter how many items he stuffed into his pants, nothing happened to the items. The pants didn't grow and there was no bulge... they were just gone.

Meanwhile, Bill was searching for the cheese in the back. He'd already checked two rooms and found nothing, when he suddenly found an open door. He walked inside to find empty boxes and wrappers lying on the ground. There were stacks of storage containers and other random items back there as well. Bill heard a demonic noise from around the corner. He quietly pushed some boxes out of his way only to find Boogie next to ten more empty boxes. He was gobbling and munching on... the cheese. Bill slammed the door into the wall even though he'd already opened it.

"BOO-GIE!" Bill shouted, as if giving a command to his bo'sun to whip a trouble-making seafarer.

"BILL, WHAT THE FACK!?" Boogie turned around, his mouth covered in cheese.

"AND WHAT WOULD PROMPT... SUCH AN ACT OF CONSUMPTION-ah?" Bill asked as Boogie jerked upwards and halted.

"Look... Bill... I didn't eat all of it. I found the right cheese though. Mmm. It's good." Boogie gobbled.

"Your cheese is not equal to the others'." Bill declared.

"Well, this is what's left." Boogie handed Bill one package of cheese. Unlike Boog, Bill actually seemed to understand what was going on.

"This cheese must be divided among all of the members of the group-ah. You are a fat eater... a fat eater who never learned to use the toilet." Bill commented.

"Well... speaking of the toilet... I need to shat." Boogie burped. "But wait..." Boogie paused before unleashing a can from his belt. "Sprite." Boogie gulped.

"Dried out fish." Bill spat and then carried the package of cheese out of the back room. He encountered Richard arguing with Blake and Walker and Par watching.

"You know, Blake, I wouldn't be surprised if you lost your virginity to one of your cats!" Richard insulted.

"H-what's this-ah!?" Bill jumped in to defend his cats, but he was distracted by Dent, who had just exited the bathroom.

"Bheely bay-beeeeeeh, one of your bebies wants to see his acting captain." Dent chirped.

"Captain?" Bill questioned before making his way into the bathroom. Suddenly, there was a disturbance - loud stomping and bright lights occurred.

"What in Ood's safe protection is that..." Walker had a horrified expression again.

"Uh... Richard?" Par asked.

Chapter 19: The Nomming Edit


Note: This chapter will most likely be the craziest of them all. You probably shouldn't read it.

As Richard pulled his fork from Blake Stewart's left hand, he continued on a rant and ignored his comrades' warnings. Walker, Par, and Dent watched as a gigantic robotic suit approached the entertainment store. The machine, which was about ten feet tall, stomped forward and it looked like it was headed straight for the store.

"This is not Oodious." Walker mumbled. "Get eh-way! Dent! Get eh-way!" Walker suggested as Dent followed him out of the store.

"All kinks need to make their way outta the store." Dent said as casually strolled out the door.

"Richard!" Par snapped, but Richard didn't acknowledge him. The machine stopped.

"Where do you want the fork to go next, hmm?" Richard grinned as he continued terrorizing the store owner. Suddenly, the metal suit began to open.

"Wankery." Par muttered. Before anyone could react, a rather small woman leaped out of the robotic suit. She was headed straight for the store's window, which she threw a duck statue at so that it would break. The woman came into view: she wore a strange purple suit with a cape and carried a long dagger, or a short sword, for that matter, in her right hand and a large sack in her left. She had long brown hair and her expression was made up of freakishly wide eyes, a sort of evil grin and a fixation on the people inside the building. "You wot!?" was Par's only response.

Meanwhile, Bill dealt with the men in the bathroom. That man at the urinals was still standing there awkwardly. The second man was smelling his own armpit. The first man, however, was staring blankly at the sinks. He had apparently survived his previous encounter with Bill.

For a brief moment, Bill's Bane voice crept in. "Impossible." Bill cupped his mouth with one hand and held the package of cheese with the other. "I stenched you.... how have you come back?"

"Uh..." was the initial reply from the man. "The guy in the purple shirt... he helped me out. Dude, what the fuck was all that?" Suddenly, Bill man-handled the man and threw him to the ground. He then proceeded to laugh in his fish-like voice. "Hahaha, HAH-ha!"

Meanwhile, more people noticed the odd lady charging forward with a weapon.

"It's the vigilante!" A customer shouted.

"The who, now?" Par asked. Suddenly, the woman came running into the store.

"OH GOD NO!" Blake panicked, flailing his arms around wildly and then running to duck under his desk. "HALP!"

"What the hell?" Richard asked as he turned to face the woman, but it was too late - she reached downward and swung her blade to swiftly slice off Richard's reproductive organ, which she then stuck in her bag. She looked down at Blake, paused, and then turned to go into the men's bathrooms. Richard, having no response, simply stared at the wall in front of him. It was as if nothing in the world meant anything to him at that moment. His body didn't move, his eyes didn't blink, and he dropped his fork. After a moment, he turned to face Par.

"Alright, Richard, calm down." Par did his best to contain the situation. "Remember, we know people who can deal with this sort of thing. It's okay."

"NOOOO IT'S NOT! IT'S NOT OKAY!" Richard yelled, panicking.

"LOLOL!" Blake added. "I love how she chose you of all people. Like. Rofl."

"Don't pay any mind to the wanker. Just calm yourself." Par raised his eyebrows. Richard, however, would have none of it. "Wh-.... why!? WHO THE HELL EVEN DOES THAT!?"

Meanwhile, the woman entered the bathroom, her knife drawn. However, she didn't expect to see Bill dart around immediately as he noticed her presence. She stopped in her tracks, noticing the strange occurrence in the room.

"You." Bill addressed her. "You are neither man nor boy. What is your purpose here?"

"Well, they call me Kitty, so I thought I'd be welcome in any part of Kittehland." the woman grinned.

"Mm." Bill considered the statement. "You are a clear admirer of the pussies... you have my respect-ah."

"Cool." 'Kitty' replied.

"What is your name, pussy-lover?" Bill asked and the woman nearly fell to the ground laughing.

"Uh, you can call me Cher." The woman replied. Bill didn't respond to this, so she left the bathroom.

"Ain't she purty?" Asked the man on the ground. "You should like... go with her... and leave us alone?"

"And what would prompt such an act of charity?" Bill grinned. Elsewhere, Cher exited the bathroom to be seen by the others.

"CONFOODERATE!" Richard shouted, but was apparently too shocked to move. Cher darted through the store, ignoring Blake and making her way into the back room only to run straight into Boogie.

"Whoops!" Boogie quacked. Immediately, Cher tried to move Boog's fat out of the way to get to his crotch. This proved to be quite difficult for the vigilante, as she jiggled his belly around and tried squishing different parts of it away only to find more and more fat. "Oh... okay. The women love me. Hueh heuh huerh... heuh-HEA-YUANK!" Boogie grumbled, laughed, and honked. Eventually, Cher grew frustrated and kicked Boogie back as she ran back through the store. "No! Come bayack. It's right here!"

Back in the bathroom, Bill was still terrorizing the man as he suddenly started shutting his eyes. He looked as if he were about to fall to the ground for an unknown reason. Then, Cher came back into the bathroom. She was prepared this time, as she ran straight for Bill and turned him around before slicing at his dick. Unfortunately for her, since Bill was holding the package of cheese near his crotch, she only took the prized dairy product and shoved it into her bag, mistaking it for something else. Suddenly, Bill jolted awake as Cher ran out of the bathroom.

"HARRIDAN-AH!" Bill shouted. He looked down at the man.

"Please... have mercy!" The customer begged.

"To the pits." Bill decided, grabbing the man and quickly shoving him into his armpit for a good five seconds. He fell to the ground, dead. "Ha ha." Bill laughed, then turned to make his way out of the bathroom. "Mastah toilet man," Bill turned around and addressed the man at the urinals. "Feel free to fuck yourself. The very next time I stench Stewart!" Bill grinned, laughed, and then exited the bathroom. When he entered the main part of the store again, he found a bundle of insanity. Boogie quacking in the background, Richard screaming and panicking, Walker and Dent gone, and Cher escaping through the window. Oh, and Par caught in the middle of it all.

"Get back here, sausage!" Richard demanded, but Cher was already gone.

"LOLOL! OMG. ROFL!" Blake was leaning against the wall laughing now. "BEST THING IV'E SEEN ALL YEAR!" Apparently, Richard was finally done with Blake's shit.

"Flakey stew of warts!" Richard shouted as he flung his wrist downwards, releasing his hidden pistol. He turned to Blake and aimed. Blake held his hands up in surrender. There was no more laughing from the store owner, but only terror as he stared at the armed madman. "Try to fuck yourself after this!" Richard commented as shot directly at Blake's right hand. The bullet lodged itself into Blake's palm and blood instantly sank out of it to the floor.

"WHAT THE HELL!?" Blake fell to the ground in pain. This victory was apparently enough to revive Richard, as he grinned slightly and turned to see Bill exiting through the window. Bill followed Cher out of the store, but was unable to locate her. The stenchfest then turned to his left and saw a ladder going up two or three stories. On the roof above, Cher had just climbed the ladder and was now hopping across rooftops. Before she could escape, however, Bill appeared out of nowhere from around a corner.

"How the hell did you get up here that fast?" Cher commented.

"The cheese! Hand it ovah!" Bill pulled out Walker's Ood stick and waved it like a cutlass.

"Look, I dunno what's wrong with you, but they can treat you for it. You know that, right?" Cher giggled.

"My treatment was forfeit long ago! WHAAAAAAAUGH!" Bill raised the stick and charged at Cher, moving in an offensive stance. Cher quickly unsheathed her blade and parried the stick, but found that the smelly Billiam's weapon was far more useful than any average twig. The two exchanged slashes and attempted stabbings, but neither of them were good enough to hit the other. Cher was holding the bag in her left hand, forced to fight one-handed. Bill, on the other hand, simply chose to fight one-handed so he'd look stylish. Eventually, Bill started gaining ground and began slicing more quickly. Cher dipped her blade forward and the two engaged in brief "lock" of weapons.

"You can do nothing without the dick-ah!" Bill spat.

"I already have your dick!" Cher gave a confused expression and then forced a smile.

"No you don't!" Bill used his free hand to unzip and then began rocking from side to side... "HA HA!"

"Oh, THAT dick..." Cher nearly gasped due to Bill's stink, but she quickly ended the nasty situation by twirling her blade around and then catching Bill off guard with a downward sweep. She proceeded to slice off Bill's reproductive organ, severing it from him and tossing it behind him.

"WhuuaaaahUAAAAAAAH!" Bill exclaimed as his dick was cut off. He retaliated with his stick, but Cher used his moment of weakness to hit him in the head with the bag. Then, she used the bag to disarm him of his Ood stick. Cher lunged past Bill and then grabbed the Ood stick, along with Bill's severed penis. She stuck the organ in her bag, sheathed her blade, and decided to wield the Ood stick of all things.

However, Bill still had something else in his arsenal. He reached into his armpit and procured a rather long, stretchy string of armpit hair. He began swinging it toward Cher, sending his stench through the air. As Cher swung her blade forward, Bill caught her wrist in his hand and then held up the hair strands to Cher's face. Bill proceeded to make a strange, fish-like noise as he inched closer.

"Eugh." Cher reacted, backing up and trying to escape the terrible odor. She kept moving away as Bill approached until she came to the edge of the roof. When Bill grinned and thrust the hair forward, Cher jerked backwards and tripped off of the edge.

"NO!" Bill panicked, lunging forward to grab the bag before it could fall and dropping his pit hairs in the process. When he pulled the sack up, however, he found Cher still holding onto it. She gave him a grin. He moved the bag back down and then heavily launched it upwards, launching Cher off of it as he let out another "WHAAAAUGH!"

Bill had the bag, but when he opened it, he gasped at what he saw inside. In that second moment of weakness, Bill had forgotten that his hands were still slippery from his own sweat. The bag slipped out of his hands and fell off of the roof onto a random Asian man's head, crushing his skull.

As Bill tossed Cher into the air, the vigilante used a grappling device on one of the taller buildings and began swinging around. Before she could escape, however, in came Walker on a jetpack.

"FOR OOOOOOOD!" The blue-haired man shouted as he tackled Cher in mid-air. The two began wrestling and flying at the same time. "Whore! That's my Ood stick!" Walker grabbed the stick and then bonked Cher on the head with it, stunning her and giving him a chance to fly away. Cher managed to avoid falling and proceeded to swoop down onto the ground with some out-of-nowhere acrobatic abilities. She grabbed her bag and began running away.

Meanwhile, Bill somehow jumped off of the building and landed on his feet three stories below. He saw a random man who had found his strand of pit hairs. The man held them up and stared at them with a mixture of intrigue, confusion, disgust, and horror. Bill proceeded to walk up to the unsuspecting civilian, grab the strand of hair, and send it into the man's nose using his two long fingers. Bill violently retracted his fingers, along with the hair, from the man's nose and then proceeded to stomp after Cher. The man would probably not live.

As Cher ran through the streets, she was halted by the Kinkmobile. Out stepped Dent and his women.

"Well well well, ain't this a smexily dexy bibeh, eh, baybehs?" Dent grinned and Cher giggled quietly. "What's yer name, bebeeeeh?" Dent asked.

"Just Cher." She rolled her eyes.

"MMMMMMMMMM." Dent replied. "Das a nice name, biebah, but I'm gonna have to halt ya until you can explain some of what's goin' on here, behbay."

"Well, I've sliced off two dicks tonight and I'm not even close to being done. Since you seem pretty cool, yours will just hurt for a while." Cher kicked Dent in the crotch, but the Kinkmeister was unaffected.

"Nuh uh uh, biebey." Dent shook his head. "I'm too pimp for pain."

"What?" Cher was confused, but secretly impressed.

"But don't worry, you look like someone who would appreciate the Kink." Dent grinned.

"I like kinks." Cher shrugged.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" Dent squeaked. "Well, I'm the MEISTER of kinks, beybah!"

"So, that makes you a Kinkmeister, huh?" Cher was intrigued.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMM, das right, beybeeeeeeh." Dent flexed and prompted his women to stretch.

Meanwhile, Richard was still having trouble recovering from the incident. He limped outside the shop, which was now filled with screams and panicking customers. He didn't see the Kinkmobile anywhere, so he fixated toward the next closest vehicle - a semi truck. He slammed the main door of the vehicle open and startled the unprepared driver.

"Scuse me, I wanna drive!" Richard shoved the man out of the truck and began starting the vehicle.

"Richard, wait!" Par came running out of the store, but Richard had already hit the ignition. The truck slowly began making its way toward the Kinkmobile and the others.

"This is almost too EASY... but nah. Rack 'em uuuuppp!" Richard forced a creeper face.

"Someone stop that man! He's not in his right mind!" Par shouted. Suddenly, the purple-shirted man with short, frizzy brown hair stepped out of the store. He surveyed the situation. He saw the truck and didn't seem to care; however, once he saw that Bill was making his way toward the danger zone, he suddenly sprung into action.

"Metal truck." The man stated as he flung his arms out. Suddenly, Richard's semi truck flipped in mid air and landed on its top.

"Holy fuck." Par's eyes widened. "What's the meaning of this shit!?"

"Aaaaaugh!" Richard groaned in frustration, but he apparently survived the crash and wobbled out of the wreckage with his gun in hand.

"Are you fookin' kidding me!?" Par surveyed the incident. Richard made his way toward the group.

"Heeee heee, ha-ha-ha..." Richard wobbled, flailing his gun around dangerously. He began shooting at random passing cars to get them out of his way. "Sausages sausages sausages...."

At the parked Kinkmobile, Dent and Cher were laughing and giggling furiously when Bill arrived, his pit hair in hand. He attempted to attack Cher, but Dent stood in his way.

"Bebeh halt! Halt bebeh!" Dent grew stiff.

"And what would prompt such an act of yielding?" Bill replied, giving them a stern look. Cher grinned widely behind Dent, leaning against the Kinkmobile and mouthing flirtatious words to Bill.

"This here is an incredibly kinked up baybay, beyboy." Dent shrugged. "I'm sure we can find a peaceful way to sort this all out." Whether it be Dent's gibberish or Cher's flirting, Bill didn't seem to consider the Kinkmeister's offer. It took Bill a moment to process that fact that he was actually protecting Cher. This drove Bill to become even angrier. His lips smushed.

"Ah. Kink." Bill smirked. "A dreadful thing-ahh. And yet...... so easily stinked. Tell me, Johnny Dentface, do ye fear stench?" Bill grinned.

"Do you!?" Walker asked, holding his Ood stick in one hand and a cat in the other. The cat had a collar that read "QUEEN KITTEH" and Walker was pointing the stick at it. Bill turned around and looked at the cat with concern and sympathy. "I don't want to harm an innocent animal... but I won't allow harm to the Kinkmeister." Walker declared. It was at this moment that Cher saw Richard approaching with a gun. She quickly slipped past Dent and began running through the streets, where Richard followed.

"You're a dried out fish, Charles Walkah!" Bill spat.

"In Ood, 'dried out' is a matter of perspective!" Walker replied.

"Is it?" Bill raised his eyebrows and then swooped behind Dent and his women. Before anyone could react, Bill threw his strand of pit hair over Dent's face and lodged it up against his nose, pulling him back.

"BIBEH! BIBEH HALT! HALT!" Dent panicked, smelling the dreaded odor. Bill grinned evilly and pulled harder until Dent choked and fell to the ground. Walker was in the position to harm the cat, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he dropped the cat to the ground and tended to Dent. The Kinkmeister had gone unresponsive.

Suddenly, Boogie arrived wobbling toward the cluster. It had taken him a while to get there due to his weight. When he saw what happened, he jumped into the action. "Dent! He gave me food! AAAAAAAERUGH!" Boogie charged out of nowhere, tackling Bill and sending him splat into the Kinkmobile. Bill turned around, though, and quickly grabbed Boogie's own beard and shoved it into his nose. Since Bill had placed his hairs there before, Boogie flew back in horror as he sniffed the stench. "AAAAAERAGH!"

Before Bill could recover, though, Walker charged at him in anger with the Ood stick. Bill was hit in the chest one time, but he somehow snatched the stick from the blue-haired man and twirled him around until Walker was pinned against the Kinkmobile. Bill placed his boot on Walker to hold him down as he positioned the Ood stick to strike a deadly blow against the Oodian.

"YOU WILL NOT FORESTALL MY STINKING-ah!" Bill moved in to attack, but he jerked to a halt when he heard a horrid cat noise. He looked around to see the cat that Walker had held floating in the air. It was making painful noises and apparently choking, as if influenced by some sort of telekinesis. Then, the cat choked and fell to the ground dead. Bill spawned a horrified expression and paused, unable to react. He stepped away from Walker and gazed upon the dead feline. "The pussy...."

Across from him was the purple-shirted man with his hand held out dramatically. He let his hand fall and said one thing: "Metal collar." Then, he turned around and began walking away. Bill stared with wide eyes at both the man and the dead cat. Walker, who hadn't even seen the man, quickly grabbed the Ood stick from Bill, jammed it into the stenchfest's stomach, and then swung it into Bill's head, knocking him away. Bill had been defeated.

"Finally." Walker sighed. "Damn Spoderman." He then resumed tending to Dent's unconscious body. His women, who had received no injuries, were also motionless. "Oh, come on, whores, I know you're faking it!"

Par arrived to see the aftermath. "Bloody hell, there's no one left." He remarked, but then heard a gunshot in the distance. Richard was still pursuing Cher through the streets. Cackling was also heard. "Damn."

"Par, I don't understand!" Walker cried out. "What the hell is going on? Bill's fighting Dent... that whore had my Ood stick. Dent's been stinked!"

"Yes yes, your Kinkmeister is now the stinkmeister." Par rolled his eyes. "So, what the hell happened to the cheese?"

"Well, I think I saw Bill with it at one point... but I don't know. I just don't know." Walker frowned.

"Alrighty. Tend to this wankwads and secure the Kinkmobile. I doubt the authorities in this town will appreciate gunshots and a pink van." Par replied.

"I'll try, but I've just about had it with this bullshit tonight." Walker groaned, trying to wake up Dent.

"Eh, it's actually been kind of fun." Par smirked. "I deal with this shit all the time."

"Well, maybe in Britain people slice each other's penises off all the time, but in Ood, that's an impossible abomination and bastardization to Doobledore's manhood itself!" Walker replied.

"Aaaand with that, I'm going to try and make sure Richard doesn't get branded as a terrorist. Or get more body parts sliced off." Par remarked.

Chapter 20: A Battle of Wits (and Stench) Edit


As the majority of the group remained stunned and injured from the chaos following Cher's attack, Richard chased the vigilante through the streets. He had his pistol aimed at the fleeing woman and began shooting, although he didn't have a very good aim.

"WOO! WOO-HEH!" Richard shouted with each miss as Cher proceeded to duck around a corner and onto another street. Unfortunately, it was quite long. When Richard made the corner, he knew had the upper hand. He began slowly inching forward, walking at a steady pace as he aimed. "Heeee heeee ha ha ha.... WOO hah heee..... WOO hah haaa...." the madman inched closer. Cher was still running when she turned to run through an alley. Realizing where she was going, Richard took a shortcut to intercept her. "Hee hee hee..." He laughed to himself, slowly making his way toward his target.

They both emerged at an intersection, but Cher was going for something that Richard didn't anticipate - the suit. Cher ran quickly toward her vehicle, but Richard had other plans. He aimed with both arms now and started rapidly firing, hoping to hit something. Suddenly, he shot Cher in the left arm.

"Bitch!" Cher said as she went down, shocked by the hit. She was still about ten yards from the machine. Realizing she couldn't make it there, she turned to face him. A few cars were going by, but Richard just shot at them to scare them off.

"C'mon." Richard smirked as he destroyed a car's mirror.

"Come on what, huh?" Cher mocked him. "Hmm? What're you waiting for? Shoot, miss, and run out of ammo so I can make silly faces at you while you run away."

"I wantcha to do it, I wantcha to do it..." Richard swerved his pistol to the side. Cher pulled out her blade with her right hand and aimed. "I want'cha to hit me. With you knife! Yes. C'mon, hit me."

"Sick punk bastard." Cher remarked as she faked two throws, each causing Richard to spazz out. Then, she tossed it directly at his head. Richard caught the dagger.

"WOO-HAH!" The madman couldn't get enough of this, as he began falling over in a laughing fit. "You wanna know why I use a fork? Woo-hehehehoo. Ya can't take a knife into a grocery store... but you CAAAN take a fork!" Richard said as he stuck Cher's blade in his belt. Before he could go for a fork, however, Cher took the moment to run for her machine. "Wait!" Richard shot several rounds at the machine, halting her in her tracks. "Wouldn't wanna miss the FIREWORKS!"

"What?" Cher had no idea what to expect. Then, Richard pulled out a bundle of three sticks of dynamite from his coat pocket.

"I enjoy gunpowder... gasoliiiine, aaaaand DYNAMITE!" Richard jumped giddily.

"Where the hell did you get dynamite?" Cher was frightened, but intrigued.

"OH, you DO wanna know how I got this dynamite, woo-haheho ha..." Richard couldn't have asked for a better question. "Well, my friend, Walker, has blue hair... and an orange man-purse. And his orange man purse can fit just about ANYTHING in it! Including this wonderful stick of metaphorical, and, well, literal chaosss." Richard lit the dynamite. "When I see you hopping around, slicing off people's penises with a smile and gliding through the air with your gadgets, all I can think about is getting you in a situation like this... you've gone from a bringer of chaos to, well... an ordinary gasping damsel in distress. Why so serious?" Richard threw the dynamite directly at Cher's suit.

"Nooo." Cher whined, unable to do anything.

"And heeeere.... weee.... go." Richard timed his words perfectly, as the explosion destroyed the machine right as he finished his sentence. "WOOHAHAHAHAHAHA! Everything buuuurns." He held his arms out dramatically, observing the flames with passion. Suddenly, Cher took the moment of distraction to kick Richard in the crotch. She repeated this process, but halted when Richard simply laughed as he crouched down. "WOO-hee! Woo!"

"You're one crazy punk." Cher remarked.

"You've got a liiiittle fight in you... I like that." Richard replied.

"Then babe, If you wouldn't have shot me, you'd love me." Cher grinned, grabbing her sack and throwing it over her shoulder.

"Remind me to pay you a visit in a couple weeks after that heals, then." Richard began staggering up, pointing one finger toward Cher as she began running away. Her movement was slowed by her wound, but she still managed to cover some distance. Richard followed slowly, reloading his gun violently as he stared her down. She was making her way onto another street, but Richard kept her in sight. Suddenly, Par arrived.

"Richard! What the hell are you doing?" The self-proclaimed rapist asked.

"Aaaaaaugh, would you please just give me a minute!?" Richard asked in frustration.

"No, we've got to get back and regroup with the wankers. Leave that bitch be." Par shrugged.

"Uh... nah." Richard shook his head. "Feel free to tag along if you want, but I won't be letting this one get away alive like Mr. Stewart."

"Where the hell is the cheese? And how are you like this if you didn't drink any Dr. Pepper?" Par asked.

"I don't have an answer to either of those questions... Boogie had it last." Richard contradicted himself and continued after Cher.

"Dammit, Boog." Par turned to race back towards the group. Meanwhile, Cher made her way into a vacant home. It had two stories and was rather large, but it appeared to be undergoing some renovations. Richard was soon to follow, quietly entering and searching the dark home for Cher. There were a lot of old, wooden items in the house and tools were cluttered everywhere. It could maybe even pass for a mansion if it were cleaned up. There was no electricity, so Richard relied on sounds to locate Cher. When he heard a noise, he tried to predict where Cher was going, rather than where she was when she made the sound.

"Heee heeee, ha ha ha...." Richard began chanting as he slowly inched closer, finding himself in a position to corner his target.

"Yeah yeah, hee hee, hahaha... you've made that quite clear. Got anything new?" Cher taunted from behind a wall. They were in opposite rooms now, only a wall separating the two of them. Richard couldn't see a door nearby, so he tried something more chaotic.

"Hmmm. How bout a magic trick?" Richard asked before shooting his gun through the wall in the direction of Cher's last noise. "WOO! WOO-HEE!" Richard followed Cher's swift pace as she tried to outrun the gunshots, quickly firing with one hand and holding his aim in place with the other. He continued to do this, blasting holes in the wall and nearly hitting Cher each time until he came to an open doorway, which he did not expect.

Cher swung her bag around and smashed Richard in the face with it, sending him back and onto the ground with a "WHEEE!" Richard began rapidly firing, blowing holes in the bag, which Cher was using as a shield as she inched closer to him. Richard scooted backwards as he shot, but he ran out of bullets quickly. His hidden pistol wasn't designed to carry much ammo. Realizing this, Cher tossed the bag aside and kicked Richard in the jaw, sending him staggering back. "WOO-HA!" Richard took in every ounce of pain as Cher kicked him again. Before she could do anything else, however, he grabbed her foot and twisted it, sending her onto the ground. He rolled aside and recovered, but Cher was quick to get back on her feet and make her way toward him. Suddenly, Richard flung out the blade he stole from her and twirled it around in a spastic flourish.

"I thought you didn't use knives?" Cher grinned.

"Oh, I LOVE knives! I just think forks are a little more convenient." Richard smacked. "But no, knives are muuuuch better in combat, obviously! Silly sausage."

"Sausage? Well, at least that's new." Cher remarked.

"Don'cha love it when things are original?" Richard grinned.

"Totally." Cher replied.

"You know, I bet you and I could've probably gotten along pretty well if you hadn't have sliced my penis off." Richard curved his head towards and gave Cher his creepy grin.

"Yeah, well that's just life, isn't it?" Cher replied.

"Nah." Richard shook his head. "That's death." Suddenly, Richard swung the dagger forward. Cher dodged this with ease, being quicker and somehow more emotionally stable than he was. Richard kept slashing air as Cher side-stepped the attacks, prompting the wise-cracker to keep shouting with each missed strike. "WOO! WOO-HE! WOO! HEE! GIBEHGIBEHGIBEUH!" Richard spazzed out, slicing the wall and nearly tripping. Cher moved in, punching Richard in the gut and snatching the blade from him. She jabbed him in the face with the hilt, knocking him back.

"Wooha!" Cher attempted to mock Richard, but it sounded wrong. She started giggling as she slashed forward, also missing her strikes because Richard was so spastic and random that she couldn't predict his movements. "Hehehe... haaaahahaha!!"

"Rude." Richard halted and stopped dodging as he proceeded to stick his gun in Cher's face. "Surprise!" She looked confused, and Richard started pulling the trigger rapidly, even though there was no ammunition. "WOO-HEE! WOO! WOOHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Idiot." Cher remarked as she slashed him across the face. "You like laughing so much, huh? You like to smile!?" Cher started targeting Richard's mouth, but he kept making noises and wiggling around crazily. Suddenly, Richard grabbed a mirror and threw it at his attacker - it missed, but it gave him time to grab a small stool, which he threw and, again, missed. "Not one for aiming, are ya?"

"WOO! HEE!" Richard then tossed a random bottle at Cher, but she dodged it and the item crashed somewhere behind her. Realizing he was done for, Richard lunged forward and tackled Cher, taking the blade from her after allowing her to cut at his leg in a harsh sweep. He tossed the blade into another room and then grabbed Cher's arm, dragging her into the kitchen. He violently ransacked the drawers until he found the silverware. "Ya wanna know the thing about chaos?" He handed Cher a spoon. "It's fair."

Cher shrugged. "I'll go for that." She took the spoon and immediately swung at Richard's eye, but the madman dodged this and then procured his fork. The two started chaotically jabbing at each other with the eating utensils, Richard shouting "WOO!" with each of his hits and Cher giggling with each of his misses.

Meanwhile, Par spoke with Boogie, who was just now recovering from his stenching. "Alright, Boog, where's the cheese."

"In here. Huerh huerh huerh." Boogie pointed toward his stomach.

"You ate it all!?" Par gasped.

"Nao. Bill took the rest." Boogie slurped. "Aaaergh... gobble gobble gop."

"Dammit, Bill." Par looked toward the stenchfest, who was still lying on the ground with his eyes wide. "Wake up!"

"A-wheaaaaaaaah." Bill attempted to make a Davy Jones noise, but his high-pitched voice squeaked instead.

"I don't think he's gonna be answering." Walker replied. "I've been trying to get them to wake up... it's not working!"

Meanwhile, Richard and Cher continued jabbing their respective dining tools at each other, neither of them doing much at all with their measly weapons. Suddenly, Cher swung her spoon forward and Richard caught it with his fork. Using his free hand, he turned on the kitchen sink and cupped some water in his hand before splashing Cher in the face with it. "WOO! WA-HEE!" He continued to do this until the vigilante dropped her spoon and ran off.

"Ohhh, we were just getting started!" Richard ran after her, chasing her directly until he realized where she was going... there was a back door. He took what he hoped was a shortcut and managed to arrive at the door before her. However, Cher had unexpectedly procured a large frying pan from somewhere in the house. She began charging forward at Richard, who, in his panicking moment, took the fork and used all of his strength to jam it into both the door and the wall, pinning the door in place and locking it. Apparently, this effort injured Richard's arm, as he flailed back with a groan after doing this. Cher tossed him aside and tried to exit, but then noticed the fork. She tried to pull it out, but this did nothing.

"That's a lovely trick." Cher took a breath. "But now you have no weapon..." she prepared the pan.

"Hehehehehehe..." Richard giggled, coughed, and spat. "I want it. I want it!"

"What?" Cher asked.

"I just want my dick back." Richard shrugged.

"Fine, if you want it back, I'll get the bag and give it fucking back. I don't want to have to think about you ever again anyways." Cher sighed.

"Oh, but you will..." Richard cackled. "We both know you couldn't possibly forget a night like this! Woo-heh..."

"Uh-huh." Cher shrugged off this comment. As she looked away, Richard suddenly jumped up and dashed to another room. He'd been stalling. He hurriedly loaded his pistol with some more shots and turned to find Cher already right in front of him.

"Oh." He commented as Cher swung the pan, but he ducked and then rolled into another room again. "WOO-HEE!" Richard began firing rapidly, unleashing every bullet he'd just loaded into his gun. Unfortunately for him, Cher blocked each and every one of them with the pan. "Aaaaaaugh! Would you please just-" Richard began, but Cher exited the room and ran off. She knew she had him annoyed. "Fine fine, I'll do it ye sausaaaaage." Richard rolled his eyes and trailed her. She went upstairs. "Oooh, now there's an idea."

"What, you're coming up? Have you ever seen Home Alone?" Cher taunted.

"HEEEE..... HEEEE... HA HA HA...." Richard clearly gave no shits anymore as he marched up the stairs slowly. "Lady and... err, her imaginary, delusional boyfriend... I am... tonight's entertainment!" Richard said as he entered the first room. Suddenly, Cher emerged from a corner and flung the pan into his head, knocking him aside.

"Nice show." Cher commented. She flung the pan over her shoulder and knelt down, sighing in relief as she took a look at her various wounds. Richard found himself on top of a pile of sacks that had been placed in the room for storage. Luckily, they didn't share the contents of Cher's bag.

"Ohhhh, yoou." Richard grinned. "You just couldn't let me goooo, could you? This is what happens... when an unstoppable bitch... meets... an unkillable bastard."

"You've got that right." Cher remarked.

"You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of not being able to hit me when the time's right... and I won't kill you... cause you're just too damn fast. I think you and I are destined to do this forever." Richard laid back as he gave his speech.

"Your dick will be severed from your body forever, asshole." Cher replied.

"Maybe we can share it!" RIchard coughed. "You won't be able to find any good ones at the rate you're slicing them all off... at least I can get mine back."

"Not sure how anyone could do that, so no thanks." Cher rolled her eyes as she looked around in the room. Apparently, she'd brought her bag back up with her somehow. She sat it down next to Richard.

"I know people... don't worry... aaaugh." Richard could barely speak at this point. Cher found a hunting knife in the room and then knelt down next to Richard again.

"Y'know... I don't normally cut off both heads, but for you, babe, I might make an exception." Cher set the pan aside and brought the hunting knife down toward Richard's throat.

"Never start with the head! The victim gets-"

"Oh, shut up!" She jerked him back.

"Wow, rude." Richard rolled his eyes. Suddenly, someone's silhouette appeared in the doorway. Richard started laughing.

"What the hell are you giggling at, you crazy bastard?" Cher was still confused, so she just stabbed the fork into Richard's leg, which didn't even silence him.

"Ha ha hee haa hooo..... woo hee ha..... hahahahaahaha." Richard leaned back and laughed comfortably. "Did you really think I'd risk losing the battle for my ego in hand-to-hand combat with you? No, no... ya neeeed a dick in the butt. Mine's Bheely!" Richard's grin appeared again. As Cher realized what he meant, she stood up and swooped the pan up, lunging to strike at the visitor - but the bringer of foul odor simple caught her weapon and effortlessly threw it aside. "WOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Richard cheered on the event.

"There is only one price I will accept..." -STOMP- Bill carried the Ood stick in one hand, using it to walk. His injuries had taken their toll on him, so he had to have assistance getting around. With each step he took using his right leg, he stomped the Ood stick down. "My dick restored..." -STOMP- "... or this bitch... STENCHED." -STOMP-

"WOO-HAH!" Richard coughed. "Something else we can agree on, Bheel. That's right, bitch, Davy Jones is my buddy!"

"Davy Jones? I thought his name was Bill?" Cher was confused.

"Well, his name is Bill, but call him Davy Jones. Isn't that right?" Richard grinned.

"Davy Jones approves this shit-ah!" Bill replied.

"Okay, hold on a minute, there, motherfucker, since when do you protect this clown?" Cher asked.

"Clown?" -plip-

"Whatever... the hell he wants to call himself." Cher shrugged.

"The Agent of Chaos works." Richard grinned from behind them. He was bleeding all over, but he didn't seem to care.

"Look, I have your dick in here still." Cher reached into her bag and procured a severed penis. "Do you want it back? I mean, I dunno what you can do with it, but hey... you can have it. It smells funny too."

"No! Take infernal thing away... I will not have it near my crotch!" Bill smacked.

"Wait, is this not the right one?" Cher belly-laughed, then giggled, then procured another dick and held it up close to Bill. "Is this it?"

Bill proceeded to slap the lifeless dick from her hand and throw it aside. "How DARE you raise your dick to me!?"

"Hey, you did want one back, jussayin." Cher smirked.

"When I recruit someone for my crew, he is still with a beating heart." Bill explained. "When a man crashes into my domain after a violent battle at sea, blood still runs through his veins as he arrives at my doorstep. When I rescue a pussy, it still... breathes...-ah! These dicks are neither living nor blood-filled... what is their purpose here?"

"Nice preaching, but I'd really rather go now." Cher commented.

"Nah." Richard slowly bent upwards and then stuck his empty gun to the back of Cher's neck. He began pulling the trigger over and over again. "WOO-HEE! WOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WOO! WOO! HEE! WOO-HEE!"

"Please, go lie down and die." Cher growled.

"Uh, nah." Richard said again.

"How did you even get that stick back? I saw them take it from you." Cher tried to change the subject.

"They tried to fight me, but they soon learned the true power of their own armpits." Bill squished.

"Please tell me you didn't kill them all." Richard's normal voice crept in for a second.

"Nigh." Bill replied sharply. "They were not killed... only stenched to a minor degree. Their stink is not nearly as powerful as my own-ah."

"Alright, bitch, listen here." Cher grew grumpy. "Your dicks aren't coming back. I don't care what you think, but it's never happened before and it's not happening now. Doing something to me... whatever kinky shit you might come with aside, it's not going to restore your manhoods."

"You attacked us without reason. Why should we respond any different-ah?" Bill asked.

"Cause I'm a laaadeh." Cher grinned. "And cause I can give you back your dick if you let me outta here. Maybe we can burn this asshole together... I don't know how anyone could get along with him.

"Awwh, am I really THAT charming?" Richard commented.

"A tempting offah, but Richard didn't steal my cheese along with my dick-ah!" Bill spat.

"Hey, you did kind of advertise it." Cher smirked.

"Enough!" Bill shouted. "I will make you a final offah. If you refuse, to the pits."

"I'm all ears." Cher rolled her eyes.

"Tell me, Cher bitch... do ye fear my stench?" Bill asked.


"Do you fear that terrible odor? All your senses laid numb? All your nose hairs punished? I can offer you..." Bill reached for the "pocket" in his back. "An air freshener."

"Use it on yourself, asshole." Cher did what no one before could and grabbed the air freshener before smashing it into Bill's face.

"WHAAAAAUGH!" Bill flew back in terror and, before he could do anything, Cher grabbed her bag and jumped out of the window. Bill attempted to crawl toward the window, slowly inching forward. "Richard... we must act."

"Eh... nah." Richard was too wounded to chase anyone at this point.

"Do not forget... the Cheesemonger's wrath will be much more fearsome if we do not deliver him his cheese-ah." Bill pointed out.

"I really couldn't give less of a shit about the Cheesemonger's cheese right now." Richard sighed. "Besides, I thought you already had the cheese?"

"The cheese is not bound on me.... it is bound to Cher... and Cher must be caught. Will ye chase?" Bill squirmed, trying to stand up.

"Since when are you the logical one who tries to rally us to the cause?" Richard asked.

"The logic is not bound to me... it is bound to intelligence... and someone must always be intelligent. Will ye smart?" Bill asked.

"Guess not." Richard sighed as he slumped backwards. Once Bill stood up, he immediately fell back in pain as well.

Eventually, Par arrived at the house and found the two of them lying there unconscious.

"Bloody hell."

Chapter 21: The Cheesians Edit

The Cheesemonger sat in his black, burnt-cheese-made throne. He faced away from the stairs, doorways, and elevators that had recently been occupied by the group. Instead, he faced a rather odd-looking wall. The wall was surrounded by different ornaments representing types of cheese along with organizations, sports teams, stores, and other establishments who clearly loved dairy products. The wall itself, however, was uncovered and appeared in layers of dark metal.

"Cheese, please open the gate." The Cheesemonger said, signaling one of his cheese men to do something. The faceless glob of cheese waddled its rug-like legs until it reached a series of levers attached to a contraption connected to the wall. The cheese man pulled one of them, and a loud noise could be heard coming from the floor below them. Suddenly, the sound of dozens of crows could be heard through the wall. "Cheese, wrong lever!" The Monger shouted. The cheese man quickly pulled a different lever, this time opening up the wall and revealing a large balcony that overlooked the lake surrounding the Grand Cheese Palace. The crows were flying around outside, but the Monger quickly made a hand gesture and they all returned to whatever compartment of the palace they'd come out of. The cheese man quickly pulled the first lever and sealed the compartment.

"Ahhh, it's a beautiful day." The Cheesemonger stated, standing up from his chair and making his way onto the balcony. Outside, rain was pouring and lightning crashed in the distance. "Have I ever told you that it was during a storm that my ancestors developed and created cheese?"

The cheese man slowly nodded his flap of a head.

"Ah, I must have explained this before, then." The Monger rested his hands on the railing. "I sometimes forget which cheese men I've conversed with over the years. The last to serve at your position was tragically consumed by an obese bullswisser." The Monger said as he closed his eyes and stood dramatically in the downpour. "Alright, Cheese, shut the gate. Wouldn't want a bird to fly in here and eat part of you, would we?" The cheese man shook his head and pulled the lever. The Cheesemonger resumed his sitting session in his throne and leaned back comfortably.

The old, creepy man who had greeted the group upon their entrance to the Grand Cheese Palace approached the Monger.

"Sir, the latest crow report has come in." The man said.

"Yes?" The Monger asked.

"The consumers acquired the cheese, but were deprived of it by a bullswisser." The man, despite being a Cheesian, looked like a human. His skin was a same pale white color and his expression never really changed. "Also, Mr. Mango ate a large portion of the missing batch. Only one package remains."

"I felt the one they call the baby eating the cheese... I also felt it in the hands of the smelly consumer. Before I could complete the ritual, however, I was interrupted. This crow report explains why." The Cheesemonger sighed and stood up from his throne before turning to face the old man. "Smith, are there any leads on the one who stole the cheese?"

"Nigh, sir." The man replied.

"And what of the other batches?" The Monger asked.

"All uneaten as of now, my Monger." Smith answered.

"We wait, then." The Monger frowned. "I am not enthusiastic about delaying this issue any further, but we must act with caution and precision in this matter."

"Of course, sir." Smith agreed as the Cheesemonger paced over to a cabinet.

"I want a sample of that cheese returned, Smith." The Monger procured a small, shining, circular globe or sorts out of the cabinet. It glowed a bright, golden color and it was held in his hand like a light as his fingers stretched upwards into smaller sticks of cheese. "I want to know who tampered with the Holy Cheese." The Monger said as he stared directly into the brightness of the shining object.

"Do you suspect treachery, sir?" Smith asked.

"Nigh." The Monger replied sharply. "I have my fears, though. The Armies of Blue have their descendants and their sorcery... I am left to wonder if very dark forces are at work."

"Surely not, sir." Smith commented. Suddenly, the Cheese Colonel came rushing through a hallway and into the main room.

"Sir!" The Colonel caught his breath.

"What is it now, Colonel?" The Monger asked.

"Lord Provolone has sent me to tell you that the Cheese Council is holding an emergency meeting, sir!" The Colonel explained.

"A Cheese conference without the Cheesemonger? Preposterous!" The Monger scoffed.

"It is an emergency meeting, sir," the Colonel elaborated. "It has already gone on for about twelve minutes."

"I shall join them at once." The Cheesemonger swiftly put away his orb and then grabbed a ring out of his pocket and sticking the accessory onto one of his fingers, which had now reformed into a proper shape. Then, he walked into a corner and procured a large staff. Its end featured a gem of sorts and there were various designs engraved onto the staff. The gold staff seemed to come to life when in the Monger's possession, its jewel igniting a bright aura and its handle becoming... shinier. The Monger proceeded to stroll into the hallway alongside the Cheese Colonel.

"Also, sir, Gravy Bones has been acting up. He was going on a speech about a prophecy in which all things dairy become unhinged... we were forced to lock him in his chambers." The Colonel said as he and the Monger made their through a corridor and then down a large section of stairs.

"We both know he becomes very angry when he's contained." The Monger shook his head. "Keep him from eating any Cheese Men; I'll speak to him once I'm done with the council." The Monger.

"I'm afraid he's already consumed three, sir." The Colonel frowned.

"How could you allow that to happen-ah?" The Monger replied sharply. "You have sparred with Bones on many occasions."

"I wasn't present at the time... I arrived too late to rescue our dear Cheese Men from his savage attacks. It took an entire squad to contain him. He's grown even more powerful with his arrogance and his so-called visions, sir." The Colonel replied.

"We must keep him under control." The Monger stated. "If he eats a Cheesian, the Council will be outraged."

"I'm afraid one of the troops was killed during the encounter, sir." The Colonel replied.

"Aaaough!" The Monger growled as they descended onto a lower floor and made their way through another hallway. "Where is the good mammoth cheese? How does such bullswiss occur constantly?"

"I wish I knew, sir." The Colonel replied as he opened a large door, allowing the Monger to enter. Inside was a massive, oval-shaped table that stretched across the entire room, which was big enough to be a classroom. Over twenty stylishly-dressed and fancily-seated Cheesians, all of them sporting various appearances that resembled different cheese products. Around them were yellow and gold lights along with cheese ornaments and various paintings of Cheesians, most of them in metal armor. Assorted cheese dinners were lined across the tables and each of the Cheesians had a glass of milk.

"I acknowledge your concerns, but we are the Cheesian Empire! We have nothing to fear." said Lord Swiss, a tall, skinny Cheesian who wore a small, circular crown with white jewels in it. He spoke in a calm, soothing voice, but he was a little high-pitched. One could notice a very slight Swiss accent, but it wasn't predominant. There was a large hole on his face where his cheek should be, and one could see all the way through it to the yellow banner behind him. He wore a dark green coat and sat near more pale Cheesians.

"But you forget, Lord Swiss, that our Monger finalized our transition to a peaceful establishment over a century ago! We are no longer an empire; our only forces consist of bears." Lord Colby Jack, a darker-looking Cheesian, who was at average height and a bit above average weight replied to the other Cheese Lord's comment. There were a few white spots on his arms and face, but he was mostly orange. He had a young, deep voice, but there was a clear frustration present in his voice and a hint of untapped rage.

"And you forget, Lord Colby Jack, that I am to be present during all Cheese Conferences." The Monger said, entering with his staff in hand and the Colonel behind him.

"I told you!" Lord Mozzarella shouted, standing from his seat. He spoke in a slightly raspy voice and his words were muttered with calculation. The Cheese Lord wore a helmet that resembled a spice container and small shreds of white cheese could be seen poking out of the holes. He was very greasy and he wore a simple vest made of noodles. "Lord Provolone is completely in with the Monger! He's probably manipulating our ruler and feeding him false paranoia!"

"My actions are my own and to my own cheese. Mind your place, Mozz." The Monger sharply addressed the Cheese Lord.

"Mozzarella, do not become heated up." Maroni suggested. "Try some of my latest recipe of macaroni... it is quite delicious!" Mozzarella grudgingly began feasting on the dish.

"Of course I support our royal leader." Lord Provolone said, standing up from his seat as well. He spoke in a strong, deep, and attentive voice while he wore a crown that nearly looked square. His features were pale white and there were no spots of any other color on him. He didn't look like he was one for smiling, either, as his stern expression remained the same throughout his words. "He is the descendant of our very first Cheese King, after all. We are foolish to question his resolve or his trustworthiness... it is the bullswissers who we want dealt with... and perhaps you, Lord Mozzarella, if you continue with such disrespectful behavior."

"How dare you!?" Lord Mozzarella threw down a stick of cheese bread. "Do not forget the reason this meeting was called. Even Maroni recognizes the dangers!"

"Now, gentlecheese, let us remain in feast, consumption, and production as we discuss these matters. Monger, I hope you understand that this was an emergency meeting which was called due to various incidents. Lords, I am sure the Monger is just as frustrated as we are with the current events." Maroni replied, feasting on a pasta dish.

"But he CAUSED the events!" Shouted Lord Pepper Jack, another Cheesian, who stood near Colby Jack. He was a pale white color, but he had small green and red spices merged with his face. "Not only that, but he allowed my very own Cheese Men to be consumed and RUINED by a consumer!"

"Lord Pepper Jack, I hope you understand that your Cheese Men are expendable. You should not be so emotional over such a small loss!" The Monger addressed the Cheesian. "I know that some of you have disagreed with me on far too many things to count, but we must act with patience and careful, cheesious consideration. Do not jump to debates over pointless matters when we can discuss the true problems present in our organization."

"How can we address those problems if we can't even send Cheesians into the open?" Asked Lord Colby Jack.

"Don't forget what happened last time we were exposed, Colby." Lord Provolone commented.

"Yes, we lost many Cheesians, but we also gained control over the consumers. That control has now been lost." Lord Mozzarella stated.

"One hundred and twelve years ago, I completed a program that transformed our empire into an establishment of management of cheese. We must remain true to our covenant. Cheesians do not need to walk among consumers, and they certainly do not need to fight them. Bears are a perfect replacement for ground troops, and that was agreed upon by this council." The Cheesians silenced.

"Except the consumers are out of control, my Monger." Said Grilled Cheese Gordon, another Cheesian, whose chin was complete with a beard of burnt toast which shined a greasy color and crunched when he talked. He sounded like a pure Scotsman, but he was grumbly and boasted a large stomach. "What would you have us do?"

"Simply let the bears handle the consumers and wait until matters become more convenient for us to handle, Grilled Cheese Gordon." The Monger replied.

"The Monger clearly has things under control, my lords." The Colonel commented.

"Military cheesennel have no say here!" Lord Queso commented after a belch. He spoke like a Spanish Pirate Lord. His skin was a mixture of white and yellow and he also had spices implanted into his face. However, two large tortilla chips were merged with his cheeks, hiding most of his face. He wore a large leather jacket, but it was far too small for him, and he could never hope to button it up. He was obese and loud, but he could not compete in either of those categories with the Boogie Baby.

"Nigh. The Colonel may speak in this meeting, in the name of good mammoth cheese!" The Monger replied. "Were he not the best warrior I've ever fought alongside, the Colonel would have been made a part of this council long ago."

"Nevermind that," Lord Mozzarella commented. "Let us get onto more pressing matters."

"Indeed." Lord American agreed. He had plain, yellow skin and he was the dullest of all of the Cheesians, wearing a simple white shirt. "Has he seen the Crow report?"

"Of course I have." The Monger replied. "What of it?"

"It's outrageous!" Lord Colby Jack joined in. "Such bullswiss could be easily fixed with Cheesians on foot."

"Another topic we must discuss is the Holy Cheese." Maroni stated.

"Is there news?" Lord Swiss asked.

"No no, but Lord Havarti himself has spoken to me." Maroni flexed his fingers together. "He has felt a great disturbance in the flow of the Holy Cheese... matters will only worsen until the consumption of the Holy Cheese has been restored." Several Cheesians murmured and mumbled.

"I will speak to Havarti myself." The Monger stated.

"Little good that will do us." Grilled Cheese Gordon scoffed.

"Between the Crow reports, Lord Havarti's warnings, and the Monger's recent behavior, I doubt cheese will ever be the same." Lord Mozzarella complained.

"Let us bring up another topic, then." Lord Provolone spat. "Female Cheesians... in the upper sections!" A few Cheesians gasped.

"Blatant discrimination based on gender has been dealt with by the human consumers... why should we stay so far behind in our society?" Mozzarella asked as the Monger slowly paced from side to side, listening to the council.

"Because it is our way, Mozzarella. You fail to remember Cheesian traditions. Have you abandoned all that is dairy?" Provolone asked.

"Of course not, but some traditions must be changed from time to time." Mozzarella replied. "The female Cheesians do not know what it is like to serve on the council or partake in high-cheese affairs... this is unfair and must be altered. I am appalled that our Monger has not dealt with it!"

"The females are comfortable and happy on the lower floors... don't be molded!" Provolone shouted. "There is absolutely no use for them up here... all they would do is cause problems, as proven by history."

"There are some of us, though, who would appreciate the company of these females." Lord Colby Jack said, followed by a few muttered agreements. "Not only are they just as intelligent as us, but it is natural for us to experience human urges..."

"Your argument holds nothing against the maintaining of safety throughout all dairy." The Monger snapped to attention. "Have you all forgotten what happened the last time Cheesians reproduced? The offspring was an abomination... an ungrateful bullswisser who joined with our enemy and created blue cheese."

"That was ages ago, though. It has no relevance or meaning now. We are half human, and thus we experience human feelings. I'm sure the women feel the same way." Colby Jack replied.

"Except we are NOT human!" The Monger sternly stared at the Cheese Lord. "We have ascended beyond mortality. We are cheese. If you want your cheese stick shredded so badly, Lord Colby Jack, I hear Gravy Bones is offering up his services!" Colby Jack's eyes widened as he ceased speaking, and the other Cheese Lords fell silent.

"Now, what was this about the Monger's behavior?" Lord Queso asked.

"He has been on edge, as you can see." Grilled Cheese Gordon replied.

"Well, he has a right to be upset. With the events occurring right now, I would feel terrible in the position of monger... we sympathize for you, Monger." Maroni said.

"His behavior is unacceptable. He called you a bullswisser!" Mozzarella added as some Cheesians gasped.

"Indeed, he did, but, as I've said, I am sure he can be excused. He and I have not gotten along well to begin with, so do take that into note." Maroni replied. "Sometimes... things slip! Isn't that right, Monger?" As Maroni said this, the Cheesemonger shot him a glare.

Suddenly, a handful of Cheese Lords entered the room. There were, in fact, several empty seats. Lord Parmesan, a greenish-yellowish-white Cheesian, quickly made his way to the Italians, sitting next to Maroni and Mozzarella. His skin was almost like sand, with small particles of cheese falling off of his face when he made sudden movements. Baby Swiss, an actual baby-sized white Cheesian in a wheelchair, positioned himself next to Lord Swiss and Lord Provolone. Monterey Jack, who was a lighter color of yellow, sat near the other Jacks. Lord Gouda, who was a very tall, beefy Cheesian, sat near Grilled Cheese Gordon.

"Welcome, fellow Cheese Lords." said Lord Swiss in his usual calm voice.

"What is this?" Asked Lord Monterey Jack. He spoke in a sly, mumbly voice. "An unscheduled council meeting!? I'm disappointed, I'm disappointed! Ordinary councilors..." Colby Jack quickly whispered something in his ear and the third Jack ceased speaking.

"With new Lords present, I suppose I should summarize the situation." The Monger suggested.

"Ahem." Mozzarella started. "Seeing as the Monger has a specific opinion on the current events, I propose that someone else should explain things. Maroni... would do speak for us?"

"Of course, Lord Mozzarella!" Maroni squeaked. "From what I can tell, the issues are as follows: Mozzarella is unhappy with the bullswissers who are currently handling the Holy Cheese. He would a-rather ground troops be sent to handle the inconvenience. Lord Colby Jack wishes for female Cheesians to be allowed upstairs, but Lord Provolone, as usual, opposes his notion. Some are unhappy with the Monger's behavior, but our Monger clearly does not give thought to these complaints."

"The same old things, then?" Lord Gouda asked. "Cheeeese... come on. There is no need to banter over such... petty matters."

"Have you seen the crow report!?" Lord Parmesan joined the conversation in his deep, raspy voice. "It's ghastly... horrendous!"

"Lord Mozzarella, please teach your Cheese-stick-grinder friend, Mr. Parmesan, to stop exaggerating." Lord Swiss suggested. "I've grown tired of the over-dramatic comments."

"You'll never eat a pizza again, distasteful Lord Swiss!" Lord Parmesan shouted.

"And I've grown tired of discrimination!" Lord Colby Jack continued. "Yes, we are Cheesians... but Cheesians are half human! We can all agree, we feel... stirrings."

"The Monger has already dismissed your request, Lord Colby Jack." Provolone commented. "Please tway with your comments and your attitude."

"How dare you!?" Squawked Lord Colby Jack.

"Gentlecheese, please, I have prepared a mixture of Jack cheeses, Italian cheeses, and white cheeses. The dip is amazing!" Lord Gouda set out a large bowl onto the table.

"I think I speak for most of the councilors when I say that we are not hungry, Lord Gouda." Lord Pepper Jack commented.

"Hargh!" Lord Queso belched. "I am!" Lord Queso held out two of his cheesy fingers and procured a tortilla chip between them. Suddenly, his fingers began growing and stretching out. Slowly, his fingers made their way across the table and to the bowl of dip that Gouda had provided. Not in a timely manner, he dipped the chip into the mix and rotated it a bit, allowing plenty of cheese dip to cover the chip. Then, he held his fingers, and the chip, in the air for a moment. After the excess cheese had made its way off of his chip and dipped back into the bowl it originated from, Lord Queso began retracting his fingers. Slowly, his string-cheese limbs of limbs returned to their normal size and allowed the fat Cheesian to munch on his chip and dip.

"What do you think?" Asked Lord Gouda.

"Mmm!" Lord Queso barked. "A wonderful batch, Lord Gouda, as always." Lord Gouda spawned a giant grin. Suddenly, Smith entered the room.

"Sir, Lord Cheddar would like to speak with you in the Directory." The old, creepy man said.

"A-verah well." The Monger replied. "Lords, I must leave you to yourselves for a few moments. I trust Smith will speak on my behalf." With that, the Cheesemonger exited.

Chapter 22: Politics Edit

The Monger of Cheese made his way out of the room and into the hallway. He climbed the set of stairs and then entered another corridor which led to a large, square room. Computer screens and modern technology filled the room, along with several Cheesians in suits and one dark-ish yellow Cheesian who wore a suit and a hat.

"Monger, at last." Lord Cheddar spoke.

"Lord Cheddar, it's been over a week, hasn't it?" The Monger replied.

"Sadly, it has." Cheddar frowned. "I have news."

"Of course."

"I've dispatched a doubled amount of bears to locate Miss Cher, otherwise known as Kitty. She has stolen some of the Holy Cheese." Cheddar explained. "However, the bears have been having a hard time locating her. I believe unknown forces are at work against us, Monger."

"I felt the same." The Cheesemonger replied. "I fear Blue magic has made its way into the world again. Cheesians are beginning to seek reproduction."

"That's never a good sign." Lord Cheddar replied. "The horny swissers." He muttered, only audible to the Monger.

"May I see the latest satellite report?" The Monger asked.

"It hasn't been updated in some time. Trust me, though, I have the best Cheesians dealing with the issue. Speaking of issues..." Lord Cheddar paced over to a terminal. He pressed a switch and activated some sort of communicator. "Bart, how goes the fisherman?"

"He still says he's going to tell his friends, sir." Said a Cheesian on the other end.

"I refuse to accept his disobedience. Make sure he knows that the bears are already watching his home, and force him to eat cheese twice a day. He cannot expose us." Cheddar ordered.

"Of course, sir." Bart replied.

"Bullswiss seems to occur without rest, Cheddar." The Monger said.

Meanwhile, in the council meeting...

Cheese Lords Maroni, Mozzarella, Parmesan, Colby Jack, Pepper Jack, Monterey Jack, Grilled Cheese Gordon, Gouda, Queso, Swiss, Baby Swiss, American, Provolone, the Cheese Colonel, and Mr Smith were present in the Cheese Council along with several other Cheesians, Cheese Men, and guards.

"Do not sit and consume while we have matters to discuss!" Lord Mozzarella commented. "Let me cut to the cheese. We want the Monger to accept additional Lords to rule."

"Preposterous!" Lord Provolone replied.

"You wouldn't dare suggest such a thing, even if you were assisted by Lord Crow himself!" Lord Swiss commented.

"It is not a terrible idea, but I don't see the need." Lord American replied.

"The Monger has grown old and weak." Lord Colby Jack commented. "He needs help!"

"Well, he has seemed very stressed." Grilled Cheese Gordon replied. "Can we get him a female Cheesian?" Some Cheesians laughed.

"He's a bit skinny, too. I've always thought he eats too little!" Lord Queso suggested.

"He's become foolish and angry." Lord Mozzarella commented. "Don't try to censor the truth. Guidance will bring us good mammoth cheese, not his stubbornness."

"What does the Monger's representative have to say? Smith!" Lord Swiss asked.

"The Monger does not appreciate your distrust." Smith said plainly.

"Booooriiiiing." Lord Monterey Jack said. "I agree with Mozzarella's reform. Something's gotta be done."

"Cheesian tradition dictates that the ruler of dairy must be a direct descendant of King Cheesius himself... no one else. Therefore, you cannot propose such an unruly reform!" Provolone said.

"Lord Provolone speaks the truth." Lord Gouda added. "Things are fine as they are... we are a peaceful, loving covenant. Let us not force ourselves into conflict."

"Except conflict, at times, is necessary to maintain a stable, functioning society." Lord Mozzarella added.

"The Monger doesn't give two rat trap cheese pieces about our society." Lord Pepper Jack commented. "He'd let our own Cheese die just to entertain himself with bullswissers who are such bumbling fools that they deal in stench and kink!" Cheesians gasped.

"Why does he deal with such molded fellows?" Lord Queso asked. "Although, I heard that one of them managed to retain more food than even I. That is impressive."

"Except he ATE Cheese men!" Parmesan barked.

"At least he appreciates cheese." Lord Gouda added.

"Enough of this." Lord Colby Jack spat. "If not for the stubbornness of Provolone and his lackeys, this reform would already have taken place!"

"Lackeys?" Lord Swiss gasped. "Enough with your vulgarity, Colby Jack."

"I am simply loyal to the royalty and traditions that have kept us a solid organization for centuries. You lot are foolish to think that such sudden, changes will grant us any good mammoth cheese." Provolone replied.

"If you're so traditional, Provolone, why do you use Facebook to post pictures of Cheese porn!?" Lord Colby Jack spat.

"I did no such thing!" Provolone gasped.

"I'm afraid I might have used your name, Provolone." Grilled Cheese Gordon said with a smirk.

"How dare you!?" Provolone shouted. "It is high treason to impersonate a High Cheese Lord! And using internet devices is a disgusting show of bullswissery!" Gordon simply laughed off the attack.

"Maroni, silence Provolone and his old-age gibberish!" Parmesan commented.

"Cheesians... let us steer this conversation back on topic. While I recognize the danger and the absurdity of the proposal of Lord Mozzarella, I do admit that something must be done to fix our current system." Maroni began. "Perhaps... if there are any other suggestions?" There was silence until Swiss spoke.

"If the Monger were to adopt a more authoritative style of ruling, he could deal with Bullswissery and weed out treachery like his grandfather." Lord Swiss suggested. As he said this, the Monger returned.

"Gentlecheese, gentlecheese..." the Monger stomped his staff onto the ground a couple of times as he entered. "I have had a moment to think things over."

"I'm afraid a new proposal has been suggested in your absence, Monger." Provolone stated.

"Silence!" Lord Colby Jack spat.

"They want to implement additional rule, my Monger." Lord Swiss commented. The Monger looked offended, but he quickly regained his posture.

"That will never happen, my Cheesians." The Monger stated. "At that point, all Cheese Lords will fight for a place among the rulers and there will be madness. I can allow no such thing-ah."

"Sir, I believe that you must regain more power." Lord Provolone suggested. "Use your authority as Monger to wipe out these bullswissers and smite the thieves. Additionally, you may deal with treason and treachery within this very council."

"Lord Provolone, I appreciate your loyalty, but you of all people should remember our ways." The Monger stated. He took a breath and faced the council, his staff in hand. "As you all know, my father, King Cheesar himself, was the first to become a Monger and set aside the title of king. I was raised for over a century watching him fit into his new role and transform an Empire into what is now Cheesia, the heart of dairy. Instead of waging food wars, he began to spread cheese for everyone and allow dairy to take up much of what all consumers put into their bodies daily.

The Cheesemonger continued. "When he finally molded, the mantle was passed to me, and I saw that the Cheesian Empire was made into a peaceful society of Cheesians. If I were to take full control of the Empire, or allow more Cheesians to squabble over a joint position on the throne, I would dishonor my very heritage and all of Cheese. I will do no such thing, Cheese Lords-ah."

"Good mammoth cheese!" The Colonel added.

"Also, as you know, we do not need to reproduce, for our offspring are grown in factories." The Monger glanced at Colby Jack. "We have no desire for signs of affection. During our youth, Cheese porn always does the trick-ah."

"I don't want cheese porn!" Lord Colby Jack added.

"Indeed," Lord American commented."The explicit images of cheese being made sometimes isn't enough to satisfy our half-human feelings."

"Then, what do you want, Lord Colby Jack?" The Monger raised his cheesy eyebrows.

"You know what I want, Monger. A proper female Cheesian companion... as termed in the old days, a Cheesewife!" Colby Jack replied.

"Scandalous!" Provolone proclaimed.

"Don't forget, we are Cheesians... we have no need for signs of affection. Cheese-marriage was banned long ago, for a proper reason. That was not my decision; that was my ancestors'. Don't be foolish to question their principles. Nevertheless, as I said, if you still require such a physical touch, seek Gravy Bones' treatment!" The Monger replied.

"Enough about Bones!" Colby Jack shouted. "I will break into the lower sections and acquire myself a Cheesian if I must. I do not fear natural reproduction as you do, Monger!" The Cheesemonger gasped. His cheeks looked like they were starting to melt and his grip on his staff grew tighter.

"Bull with swiss, sir?" The Colonel anticipated something.

"Lord Colby Jack..." The Monger began...

"Yes, my weak and cowardly Monger?" Colby Jack asked.

"THAT cannot be tolerated!" Provolone stood up.

"Go to the Nest." The Monger demanded.

"What?" Colby Jack asked.

"Go to the Nest, Colby Jack! You require the therapy of Lord Crow." As the Monger said this, Lord Colby Jack gasped in horror.

"You can't be serious." Colby said.

"That is an order, Cheese Lord!" The Cheesemonger slammed his staff onto the ground.

"No, no I won't!" Colby Jack panicked.

"Colonel, take Lord Colby Jack to the nest." The Monger ordered.

"Right away, sir!" The Colonel and two Cheesians in armor quickly grabbed Colby Jack and began violently escorting him upstairs. The Colonel, once the others had him contained, returned to stand aside the Monger.

"You can't do this! A Cheese Lord hasn't been sent to the nest since... since...!" Colby Jack searched for words.

"Since four centuries ago, Lord Colby Jack." Provolone added, a smile on his face.

"Well, Monger, seeing as I'm a jack, everything I have to say has already crossed your mind." Lord Monterey Jack said. "But that... that? No. You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't."

"That was a cheesious, uncalled for action." Lord Mozzarella addressed the Monger. "You would subject a Cheesian to torture!?"

"Not torture," The Monger explained, "Counseling."

"Swisser of the bulls, I say." Mozzarella declared. "I call for a vote, my Cheesians! I declare that this Monger is unfit, and he must be removed of control over the council. We will place our reform into effect immediately and disregard his objections, as he will have been stripped of his authority on this council!"

"Treachery!" Provolone shouted. "Guards!" Several armored Cheesians prepared themselves.

"All in favor?" Mozzarella asked. No one dared to support him. "Are you kidding me?"

"It seems your raw, emotional actions have impressed no one, Lord Mozzarella." The Monger stated.

"If that's the case, then, Cheese Lords, forgive me for my bluntness, but I must end this bullswissery!" Suddenly, Lord Mozzarella flung his hand toward the Monger. The Cheese Lord's ring glowed and he seemed to begin some sort of ritual. The Monger was unaffected by this, though, as he simply stood there, staring at Mozzarella with a stern expression.

"You fool!" Lord Swiss shouted.

"It takes a majority of Cheesian Rings to usurp a ruler, you tasteless idiot!" Provolone shouted.

"Don't you all see what is happening!?" Mozzarella shouted. "Everyone here is too scared to act against the Monger. We all admire his great heritage and his cheesious policies, but we are at a point of desperation! Do not fall victim to cowardice in the face of a threat that could end all dairy!"

"As if my control represents such a horrendous future. Don't be over-dramatic." The Monger commented.

"Acting out against the Monger will only get you sent to the incinerator, or worse, to Bones, Lord Mozz." Swiss said.

"See!? You're scared!" Mozzarella commented. "I may be the only one here with melted cheese guts, but I am also a High Cheese Lord and a holder of great cheese power... join with me! Come on, we need more!" Mozzarella asked, but nobody assisted him. "Lord Monterey!"

"Sorry, Mozz, I'm sooooo changeable!" Monterey Jack replied. Even Parmesan was reluctant to act, as he sat there twitching.

"So be it." Mozzarella looked down, and all seemed lost to him. Suddenly, he flung his hand toward the Monger again, his Cheesian ring lighting up once more as he launched an orb of energy at the Monger, who simply blocked this with his staff. The Colonel gripped his weapon, but the Monger held out one cheesy finger to halt the military leader.

"I'd choose my words and actions more wisely, Mozzarella!" The Monger was growing unhappy now, as his nose clinched and his fists tightened. However, the Cheese Lord persisted, launching more energy at the Monger and failing to cause any impact.

"Stand down, Mozzarella!" Maroni suggested. However, the Italian Cheese Lord held his ground. The Monger, who was dead-eyeing Mozzarella at this point, simply flung his staff forward. Somehow, this sent Mozzarella's arm back in a violent fashion, and the Cheese Lord was now stuck in an awkward position, his arm forced behind him.

"How DARE you raise your ring to me!?" The Monger yelled. "I am your MONGER!"

"You are a poor excuse for a monger, Monger." Mozzarella commented. Suddenly, the Cheesemonger sent two of his fingers into Mozzarella's nose.

"No Cheesian has challenged a Monger or King since the days of the Blue." The Cheesemonger said and Provolone nodded. "Do not commit such bullswissery... in the halls of the Cheese Council itself! Don't forget that I have both Bones and Crow at my disposal. Remember that the next time you raise your bullswiss to me. Your actions are insane! You should be branded a traitor."

"Traitor!?" Mozzarella quacked in a strange voice as his nose was penetrated.

"Let it be known that mozzarella cheese is banned for a month. No consumer shall buy, sell, or consume Mozzarella's product until that period ends." The Monger declared, retracting his fingers.

"I'll get right to it, Monger." Smith added.

"Cheesians... I will deal with the bullswissers with bears at my side and Cheesius' spirit himself guiding my every cheesious action. I will enact no reform, I will allow no cheesewomen upstairs, and I will allow no unnatural Cheesian reproduction. I am no king, but I am far from powerless. My judgment is not impaired, but I am rather only frustrated by events. This only drives me to further enhance my efforts. Trust in your Monger, trust in cheese, and, subsequently, trust in all that is dairy." The Monger declared.

"Good mammoth cheese, sir!" The Colonel praised as the Monger exited. Smith and the Colonel exited soon thereafter.

"Well, that went well." Lord Parmesan commented.

"Why did no one assist me!?" Mozzarella asked.

"Why did no one commit treason, you should ask." Swiss said.

"Mozzarella, you and I agree on many policies, but let us not resort to violence in a time where we must be as civilized as possible." Maroni stated.

"You seconded my notion!" Mozzarella squeaked.

"I did not second the physical confrontation that you just initiated, my dear Cheese Lord." Maroni replied.

"Even Maroni is smart enough to remember the boundaries of our society. You are a fool, Lord Mozzarella." Lord Provolone stated.

"And you a coward, Lord Provolone!" Mozzarella spat. As this went on, the Monger began making his way back to his throne room when he was halted by a Cheese Lord. This one wore dark gray robes and had light, white hair on his pale, white cheese skin, which was beginning to harden and crumble.

"Lord Havarti." The Cheesemonger addressed him. "I wished to speak with you."

"As I heard." The weathered Cheesian replied. "I'm afraid I cannot bring you a happy topic of conversation."

"Go on, then."

"The essence of dairy continues to grow weaker." Lord Havarti said grimly. "Also, you know that my son will be the next Keeper of the Holy Cheese, yes?"

"Of course." The Monger nodded.

"I'm afraid he has fallen ill." Havarti said. "I think his cheese might have been rotten."

"Impossible. No rotten cheese makes its way into the upper levels." The Monger replied.

"Not naturally rotten," Havarti explained. "but tainted."

"By whom?" The Monger asked.

"I know not." Havarti replied.

"I will have the mystics look into this. I wish him good mammoth cheese and a cheesious recovery." The Monger stated.

"I appreciate that." Havarti commented.

"Please keep me informed on your visions, Keeper." The Monger suggested. "I fear dark forces working against us."

"Things are never as they seem, my Monger." Havarti replied. "Keep a watchful eye." Havarti exited.

"If only the consumers could work things out themselves..." The Monger shook his head.

Chapter 23: Consequences Edit


The hour was 2:09 AM. Par stood in the middle of a street, pulling both Richard and Bill, who were both unconscious, by their legs.

"You wankers had better be glad that it's nighttime, otherwise there's no way I'd be doing this heavy labor!" Par stated as he made his way toward a street corner where the Kinkmobile was parked. Walker had moved it when the police arrived at Blake Stewart's entertainment store, and Walker had simply loaded up Dent's unconscious body --and his women's-- into the orange bag. Boogie was wobbling around somewhere nearby, and sirens could be heard as the Sheriff and his company of goobers dealt with the shop. The group wasn't far from the shop, but they were at least hidden from view. "Aaaaaough, Bill, you smell like absolute shit! Literally... shit!"

Par spotted Walker loading up Dent and his women into the back of the Kinkmobile. "Walker!" He shouted, dropping the two other group members and running toward the blue-haired man, who started moving quickly and acted like he didn't hear Par. He shut the back doors of the Kinkmobile and ran to the front, but Par arrived quickly. "I need help with Bill and Richard..." Par sighed, catching his breath. "Bloody heavy wankers... I can't even imagine if it were Boo-"

"HEY GUYS, WAIT UP!" Boogie shouted, waddling toward the Kinkmobile.

"Great, another set of hands. Go on now, fetch the lifeless meatbags before they get plastered on the pavement." Par suggested.

"Uh... okai..." Boogie grumbled before burping. "I'll need a minute." Boogie also seemed exhausted.

"No." Walker objected.

"What?" Par asked.

"I'm not helping!" Walker declared.

"Fine, Boogie and I will do it while you sit here and masturbate." Par remarked. "Just give us your bag and it'll be a lot easier to load them up into the Kinkmobile."

"No..." Walker muttered. "It's up to you guys. The Kinkmobile isn't taking anymore passengers."

"Ohhhh snap!" Boogie clapped.

"What do you mean?" Par was confused. "There's plenty of room."

"No, I'm done." Walker stated. "We're done!"

"Done with what?" Par asked.

"With all of you crazy people!" The Oodian snapped. "I'm done with this cheese quest and all of the tomfoolery and bewilderment of this pointless adventure!"

"Well, Par... looks like I won't be helpin' ya after all. Heurh. Heurgh Heurgh!" Boogie quacked.

"Walker, are you forgetting that the supernatural entity known as the Cheesemonger has threatened us with a legion of bears if we don't follow his commands? We have to get the cheese and get it back to him." Par explained.

"No! I am taking Dent back to Ood!" Walker declared. "I've had it with the cheese, the stench, the bickering, the shootouts, all the whores and all the bears... I'm done!"

"The bears aren't going to let you leave the town, dammit." Par tried to reason with the blue-haired man. "Just settle down for a minute and think things through. You have to be logical about this."

"No, no more logic!" Walker ordered. "In Ood, all of this would be utterly meaningless. We will be safe there from the bears."

"And how exactly do you plan to get to Ood? How do you plan on avoiding the bears?" Par asked. "Think things out a bit before jumping to conclusions, wanker."

"I've made my decision." Walker stated. "I will figure things out on the way... when Dent wakes up, he will have a plan."

"What if Dent doesn't wake up!?" Par asked. "You saw what Bill's smell can do."

"He is too pimp for pain, my good sir." Walker said. "I'm isolating myself from this madness... from Spoderman to bears, I swear, I'm drawing the line." Walker entered the driver's seat.

"So... uh, Walka?" Boogie gobbled. "Since Dent's in the middle, ya mind if I sit in the front? Huergh huergh."

Walker stared at Boogie without emotion. "Yes."

"Uh... wut?" Boogie gopped.

"Yes, I mind, Boogie." Walker replied.

"Well fine, I'll sit in the back then." Boogie begrudgingly headed for the back, only to find that the door was locked. "Waaaot?"

"I said the Kinkmobile is taking no more passengers, Boog." Walker replied.

"But... I'm not a passenger." Boogie burped.

"Yes, you are!" Walker explained. "I'm done with you, just as I'm done with the others!"

"But wait, I'm not with them!" Boogie grew desperate. "Like... um, I thought we got along pretty well. Ergh."

"We did NOT get along well, you whore-lover!" Walker exclaimed. "I never wanted to be around you at all. In fact, it's your fault that we ended up in this predicament!"

"Wait... wut?" Boogie questioned.

"You're the one who wanted to go that way... you were a customer, nothing more." Walker declared. "A customer who brought us great misfortune, might I add... you disgust me, Boogie." Walker turned away and started the Kinkmobile.

"Bloody hell, neither of you cockrobins are capable of possessing a single ounce of critical thinking or awareness, are you!?" Par spat.

"Wait... but I signed up for calculus! I never got any!" Boogie quacked.

"We'll send you a refund!" Walker exclaimed before rolling up the vehicle's windows and hitting the ignition - the Kinkmobile sprung to life and began moving forward, its bright green tail lights shining in the dark city and the sounds of its electric music sending vibrations throughout the area.

"WAIT.... I HAD FOOD IN THERE!" Boogie realized, running alongside the vehicle and slapping it several times with his hands, but he was far too slow to attempt any kind of competition with a motorized vehicle. The Kinkmobile simply drove by him, making its way onto a road and disappearing off into the distance. It was only a moment after entering an active street that sirens were heard as the authorities pursued Walker.

"In the words of Dent, fackin' pingas." Par muttered. "Can humans ever just use their brains?"

"Well, Par... looks like it's just you and me. HUERGH. HUERGH HUEGH!" Boogie squiggled.

"I liked you better when you were crying like a baby about your food." Par muttered. "Speaking of which, didn't you run out sometime before our boat ride? You were crying about needing food, yet you ended up pulling it, literally, OUT OF YOUR ARSE later... what's with the inconsistencies?"

"Well..." Boogie blurted, "I always keep some in reserve. Gotta be prepared.. hueh. But like... sometimes, ya know, I forget where I put it... it's hard to reach in certain places."

"Well, you better pull your massive weight and help me carry these wankers, or you won't be part of this little group anymore, ya degenerate." Par said.

"Well, wow." Boogie blurted. "Who said I even wanted to help? Hueh hueh."

"You were about to help earlier, ya wank." Par darted his eyes to Boogie.

"Well, that was before. This was now. Don't ya know how to use logic?" Boogie quacked. "You love talkin' about it... maybe you're the one who's actually inconsistent... HUEH. HUERH HUERGH!"

"Piss in a bottle and call it rum!" Par shouted. "Get yer bloody arse over here and help me drag these wankers, ye blood-drained sack o' fat, or I'll see to it that yer roadkill!"

"Fiiine." Boogie wobbled over to the others, his hips swaying forward with each step he took. Before beginning such a tedious task, he procured a container of peanut-butter crackers from his pants and threw three of them in his mouth. As Par dragged Richard to the side of the road, Boog attempted to handle Bill. "Oh mah gaaaaaawd, Bheel, do you ever shower!?" Par almost expected Bill to wake up and come up with a rant to respond to Boog's comment. As the supposed sewer-dweller was dragged across the road, his arms fell back, allowing the stench from his armpits to penetrate the air. Boogie gagged. "Well... at least if I puke, it'll go on Bill! Huerh."

"If you do, your genitals will pay the price." Par said as he dragged Richard. "Would you just wake up, already!?" Finally, Par grew tired of the work and resorted to slapping Richard on the face. This did nothing, as the agent of chaos still lied there unconscious. "Bloody wanker."

"Might help if we work together and pull them one at a time..." Boogie gobbled. "Jussayin."

Par had to think about this for a moment. "You know, Boog, that's not a bad idea!" Par walked over to the obese monstrosity. "For once, your sodium-pumped insides have somehow given enough fuel to your flip-flopped brain to allow some common sense in there... you had a good idea!"

"Hueh hueh... yay!" Boogie shouted. "Do I get a cookie?"

"Suuuure." Par replied. "Just as soon as you bake them and give all but one to me, of course."

"Shat aaaahp." Was Boogie's response. Eventually, the self-proclaimed rapist and the consumer of all things dragged the agent of chaos and the almighty stinker to a sidewalk near a vacant shop. They both sighed in exhaustion.

"Bloody wankwads... I won't be doing that again!" Par said.

"Ough... ough.... ohma gaaaawd." Boogie slobbered, launching himself backwards and sitting down to lean against the brick wall of the small building. "I think I broke my skull..."

"Your head was never properly functioning, Boogie." Par commented.

"Shadda fack ahp..." Boogie blurted.

"Alright, we're safe now... for now, at least." Par stated. "Do your consuming; I need to make a call." Par retreated behind a corner. From his robe-like coat, he procured a small communicator. After pressing several switches on it, he contacted someone. Unfortunately, Boogie's curiosity soon got the better of him and he peeked around the corner to listen in.

"This is gonna be good..." Boog mumbled to himself, stretching and holding in a burp.

"Yes, I need a healer. How hard is that to understand?" Par said over the phone. "Yes, Richard has been incapacitated and won't be functioning unless properly tended to! ... I'd rather not go into details on his injuries."

"Too many big words... eugh." Boogie frowned.

"Yes. Thaaank you, ya bloody incompetent twat!" The last four words of Par's sentence were produced after he switched off his mic. He continued his conversation... "Good, that's close. Alright. Okay. Mhm. Wait, what? Why does she call herself 'Beautiful Blonde' if she's insecure about being fat!? Bloody emotional women."

"Wait, wut!?" Boogie squawked.

"Dammit, Boogie!" Par exclaimed. "Okay, we'll get to it. Bai." Par turned off the communicator.

"Who's fat?" Boog asked.

"YOU!" Par retorted in frustration. "That was a private call, Boogie. I can't allow you to listen in on any more of those... if I catch you masturbating in a corner again like that while I'm making a business call, you'll have to be neutered passionately and dispassionately tossed into a lake never to be laughed at again."

"Wait... how'd you know?" Boogie looked confused.

"What the hell, Boogie?" Par sighed and turned away.

"So... that lady's fat, huh? What's her name?" Boogie questioned.

"Apparently, my co-workers found it appropriate to warn me not to comment on her appearance, as she's prone to complaining about being overweight." Par explained. "Why do you even care, anyways? I thought you said you weren't fat?"

"Well, I'm not!" Boogie commented. "I mean, my hair is poofy, and... ya know.... but I ain't fat."

"Then why are you interested in an overweight female!?" Par asked.

"Well..." Boogie blurted. "I like big women."

"Of course you do..." Par sighed again. "Alright, Boog, let's see if we can find a car that you can fit in."

"Okai." Boogie gulped. Suddenly, Par burped.

"Scoozy." Was Par's response.

"Huegh, hehuehueh, that was such a lame burp, Par." Boogie commented.

"Yeah, y'know, given the quality of your brain and your dick, I wouldn't be using the word 'lame' too often if I were you." Par replied.

"Well, uh, Par, see, that's the thing," Boogie began. "You'd have to be lookin' at it if you knew that... huegh... and if you're lookin' at it, it must be pretty big! Huergh huergh." Par attempted to reply, but Boogie continued blurting. "And, y'know, it's actually pretty big. Like, maybe some might call it average... maybe... I dunno. But, like, all the girls I've ever been with have said it's pretty good, so like, I think I know more than you in this field."

"All the girls you've been with?" Par began. "Oh, so all the three." Boogie took a moment to register this comment. Suddenly, he smiled and looked away, as if he were pondering the idea of something. "Your two hands and your belly, of course. They're the only feminine objects that I think will ever come into contact with your genitalia."

"Well, no, Par!"

"Well, no, Boog!" Par mocked, but he suddenly burped again. "Stop fucking burping!"

"I didn't burp!!" Boogie quacked.

"We wasn't talkin' to you!" Par exclaimed. "Now, since I want to hear no more of your pathetic, whiny voice, I'm going to suggest we find a proper vehicle now that the wankers are secured. If you keep masturbating in a corner and crying about your penis, I'll fook you in the bum."

"Well, that's why I don't hang out with you guys." Boogie frowned. "Dent's the only one who's nice to me anymore... and he gave me food! Heurgh... that was an empty threat, anyways."

"My threats are like your head they both may seem completely empty, but, despite all odds, there's actually something of substance in there!" Par replied.

"Well, the thing is, you couldn't follow through even if ya wanted... I've got food in there! HEUH HUEH!" Boog blurted. Before Par could respond, Boogie continued. "Y'know, I always wanted to ride in a police car... just not in the back." Boogie looked to the flashing blue lights.

Meanwhile, at Blake Stewart's entertainment shop, aka Kittehland, the Sheriff and part of his police force were investigating the crime scene. The Sheriff, Investigator Kearse, Chief Officer Blademorgan, and policemen Bob and Peter were present, along with a dozen of other officers.

"Sir, we have another update." Said Communications Officer Arnold, an older policeman who spoke in a deep voice. He had a small, gray beard, and a melancholic expression. He wore the usual police uniform, but, instead of a weapon, he carried a few radio devices and various technological tools. "The others are still in pursuit of the pink van, but have been unable to capture them thus far. It appears that several bears have been intervening in the chase, sir."

"Dummit-gad, Arnold." The Sheriff replied. "I could smell the bears through my own teeth, but nobodeh listened. I've seen things that would make y'all shit yer panties."

"There are no bears here that I am aware of. The locals don't trust them." Arnold replied.

"Well, aren't you just a knowledgeable person?" The Sheriff replied. "Who DOES trust a bear? Well, nobody in their right mind... only stew-crazed mafians would do such a thing."

"Additionally, sir, Joe asked me to inform you that Mr. Stewart has safely survived his trip to the hospital and is expected to make a recovery... physically. His mental state, however, is questionable. Personally, no matter how brave he may be, he is certainly quite foolish." Arnold stated.

"I don't give a flamin' rat's patootie about Blake Stewart, gentleman. What else?" The Sheriff asked.

"Might I also remind you, sir, that the local authorities are unhappy with you taking over operations here." Officer Arnold continued. "Deputy Pobeldood has expressed his deep concerns with the fact that you aren't available in your hometown, as well. Perhaps... you should consider handing this case over to the locals."

"I'll do no such thing, crackajack." The Sheriff quacked. "We've already dealt with bears, apprehended twenty Spanish mechanics in pink vans, and my docta's been kidnapped. If you think for one second that I'm abandonin' this 'ere issue and its group of lunatics, ye'd be mistaken, butterfinger."

"Twice the pride, double the fall." Arnold muttered. Suddenly, Blademorgan and two other officers exited the bathroom.

"Why... the hell... am I always in charge of the bathrooms!?" Blademorgan asked. His eyes were wide, sweat covered his forehead, and his curly hair was even messier than usual. He wobbled forward, his suit dragging and his stance unstable. The men following him quickly made their way out of the building and back into their vehicles.

"Well, from what the witnesses said and what the victim's corpse suggests, somethin' went down in 'ere. You're a smart buttfungus, Bladmorg, what'd ya see?" The Sheriff asked.

"There was a great odor in there, sir." Blademorgan added. "I'm not sure what we're dealing with... I fear that something demonic took place in this very building."

"Sir, we've found another body!" Exclaimed Investigator Kearse, who entered through the window which was previously broken by Cher. "Officers are bringing it in now, sir." The Sheriff examined the body.

"Oh, come on, NOBODY CARES ABOUT THE FUCKIN' BODY!" Bob complained.

"Officer Bob, you disappoint me. Your superiors hold you in such high esteem. Surely you can do better!" Arnold commented.

"Why is it that the Asians always end up the victims to these jokers?" The Sheriff questioned as he studied the corpse of the man who took Bill's pit hairs to the nose. "Let's see 'ere. Heavy trauma... this man was exposed to the same plague or saucery goin' on in the bathroom, I reckon."

"I somehow doubt that, sheriff." Blademorgan interjected.

"Oh, shut up, Officah Blaaaadmorgan." The Sheriff spat. "Let me take another look at the first corpse." The Sheriff instructed, and an officer took him to the body of the man who had been stenched by Bill, freshened by the purple-shirted man, and stinked again by the sea-dweller. "Yep. I'm sure of it now."

"Sure of what, Sheriff?" Asked Peter, who was still doing better mentally than any of the other officers, despite having witnessed Bill take down eight officers at once with his stink.

"Did the witnesses check out as sane, Investigatuh?" The Sheriff asked.

"To a degree, Sheriff." Kearse replied. "One man seemed mildly crazed, possessed even, but not insane."

"Listen here, then. Attention, gentlemen!" The Sheriff signaled for the surrounding officers. "I reckon all sorts of folks have been through this 'ere shop. Witnesses even reported sightings of a local vigilante who supposedly slices off certain male organs... but all I care about are the goobers who I've been pursuin' through four states. I've seen saurcery, coordinated bear attacks, terrorist groups of pink vans, and now a flipped semi truck on the trail of these goons. They are a source of chaos and destruction. However, I think the key to their ability to evade us is one group member... and one group member only." Suddenly, Communications Officer Arnold received a transmission.

"I have good news for you, Sheriff. War has begun." Said Arnold. "Heavy weapons have now been authorized for the supposed 'Kinkmobile,' as the mechanics put it. However, it may be difficult to secure their capture."

"Good'in, Arnold." The Sheriff replied. "As I was saying, I've come to a conclusion: We are dealin' with a Stench Lord."

"What the hell's a stench lord!?" Shouted Bob.

"Well, from what I heard from the stories, there are some beings called Air Masters. These superhumans can manipulate certain types of gases or odors to their advantage and cause elemental destruction beyond what any man can imagine. They also mimic the behavior of those they are exposed to... so, I sure hope this guy ain't seen Godzilla." The Sheriff explained.

"More nonsense in the form of childish stories." Kearse commented.

"Not quite, buttfella. Either way, a man who can control stench would explain the geezah who took out our officers in the town... and it'd explain why these men seem to die from some horrific gas." The Sheriff explained. Before he could continue, however, Boogie approached the scene.

"HAAAALP! HAAAAALP!" Boogie quacked. "POLICE!" Several officers rushed toward him and addressed him as he waddled toward the authorities. "THE BOOGEY MAN'S OVER HERE!"

"Who's where, sir?" asked Kearse.

"Uh... over that way! See that trail of blood from the wrecked truck?" Boogie asked. Kearse investigated.

"How could we miss this?" Kearse asked.

"Cause yer dumb, buttfungus!" The Sheriff replied, and then gave Boogie a curious look. "Now, who exactly are ya, son?"

"Sir, this could be a legitimate trail! We must track these jokers down!" Kearse commented.

"Alright, gentlemen, let's get movin. Take this buttafinga in for questioning. I don't trust 'em." The Sheriff ordered as he and most of the officers left with Kearse. Bob, Arnold, Blademorgan, and two other officers were the only policemen remaining. Bob begrudgingly watched Boogie as Blademorgan tried to relax on a bench, but failed.

"You look hungry." Boogie commented.

"I never can eat in this fuckin' job." Bob complained. Suddenly, one of the formerly-vacant police cars started up. This caught the attention of Blademorgan, who looked through the store's open door only to see Par in the driver's seat.

"Goons!" Blademorgan shouted. This did nothing, however, as Par hit the ignition and sent the car forward, ramming it into Bob's ass and sending him into the pavement violently.

"FUCKIN'!" Bob shouted, groaning desperately as he tried to get up. Boogie waddled toward the car as he watched Bob.

"Heuhheuhheeurgh, YER FAT!" Boogie blurted as he got into the passenger's seat.

"No... not you. No, God, it can't be you!" Blademorgan shouted as he pulled a gun, staring Par down. Par replied with an inaudible "HI!" and waved his hand at Blademorgan before beginning to turn the car. Blademorgan put three shots in the windshield and, before Par could properly turn, lodged one bullet directly into the supposed vampire's arm.

"Fackin!" Par shouted. "FOOK OFF, YE DRIED OUT FISH!"

"Uh... isn't that Bill's line?" Boogie grumbled.

"I can quote people!" Par replied. Suddenly, Blademorgan shot out one of the tires on their car. "Aaaaagh, that's it!" Par declared before suddenly stepping out of the car. "Boog, find a replacement... I refuse to drive that." As Par turned around, he prepared his bottle of "Special Flavor" Hawaiian Punch and uncapped it. He ran in for a hit-and-run attack.

"Not this time, Parax Chuchuoverlord!" Blademorgan shouted, grabbing a random officer and throwing him in the crossfire as a human shield - the man was hit with the drink and, within a moment, attacked by an angry swarm of moths. Then, Blademorgan shot a hole in the Hawaiian Punch. Par quickly tossed it aside and then lunged toward Blademorgan, who shot Par in the leg.

"Wanker-pleasing dickbag!" Par cursed as he fell toward Blademorgan, disarming him and attempting an attack, but his injuries made the skirmish tilt in Blademorgan's favor.

"Arnold, assist me!" Blademorgan ordered, but the old, grizzled officer simply stood with his arms crossed as he watched the violence.

"I am a Communications Officer, and I have no authorization to partake in combat." Arnold explained. Nevertheless, Blademorgan started man-handling Par, choking him and delivering powerful blows.

"Get off me, Blademorgan!" Par suddenly entered into a higher-pitched, squeaky British voice. This did nothing, as Blademorgan persisted. "GET HIM OFF ME, BOOGIE!" Par ordered.

"AAAAAAERGH!" The obese monstrosity soon followed the command, tackling and dismantling Blademorgan. Par, limping and bleeding, made his way to the driver's seat of another police car.

"Get the fook over here, Boog!" Par ordered, and Boog rolled so that his rear end would clobber Blademorgan's face, stunning him on the ground as the consumer of all things made his fat way into the passenger's seat. Par started the car and they began driving away. "See this tracking device?" Par ripped off a machine from the car's console. "Eat it. And chew well."

"Okai!" Boogie grabbed the device and consumed it in a mere twenty seconds, crunching loudly and letting out a mechanical burp. The two stopped near Richard and Bill's unconscious bodies, and, before any officer could get to them, stuffed the two group members into the back of the vehicle. Par limped back into the vehicle and sent it driving again. "This is kinda fun!"

"Try getting shot two times, you dim-wit!" Par muttered before sending them onto a main road. He flipped on the sirens and drove speedily through the streets until they made their way to Beautiful Blonde's Establishment.

Chapter 24: The Grand Cheese Palace Edit

Meanwhile, in the Grand Cheese Palace...

The Cheese Colonel, flanked by four Cheesian Guards, hurriedly made his way through several corridors. His pace was quick and his eyebrows were narrowed. The Guards all wore the same metal armor and carried spears with yellow words engraved into them. Their helmets were short only covered part of their faces, whereas the Colonel's helmet went all the way down to his chin - he had switched into full battle armor, which was complete with a massive golden breastplate, metal-padded pants, bronze armplates, and large, clanky boots.

The Colonel and his soldiers marched loudly through the Cheese Palace, making their way down several flights of stairs. As they did this, they passed by the chambers of several Cheese Lords and other sections which revolved around the High Cheese Affairs. Offices, conference rooms, lounge areas, and entertainment rooms were all seen during this march. They passed Lord Parmesan, who was yelling at one of his Cheesian businessmen. In the lounge area, several Cheesians of different kinds were sitting around reading, talking, or eating. The cavalry made its way through a large room, which seemed to be a central area in the Palace. There were hallways leading into various sections of the castle, and many Cheesians and Cheese Men alike walked around in the room, making their way from one place to another.

The Cheesians seemed to know to get out of the way when the Colonel and his guards when they stomped through the hallway, though, as crowds of Cheese Men flocked to either side of them. Then, two more soldiers emerged from the crowds and joined the group without a word. They wore the same armor as the other four guards, and carried the same spears.

"Sir, perhaps we should use the elevator?" Asked a Cheese Guard. "We don't want to frighten the commoners."

"A worthy proposition." The Colonel replied, leading the others to an elevator, which was located near the front of the Palace. The war party stepped in and soon began riding downwards to the tenth floor, listening to Cheesian Music as they descended. As they went further down, they began to hear several loud banging noises. Massive thumps and pounding sounds followed, along with a horrifying roar. As they arrived at the "Prison Floor," the Military Cheesennel armed themselves with their weapons and exited the elevator. Standing formally were more Cheese Guards who simply saluted the Colonel.

The surroundings were dark, bleak, and lifeless. Walls made of burnt cheese completed the straight hallway which they walked through, but they soon passed by several lit holding cells, most of them empty. One contained a rather disturbed-looking human, while another contained a single owl standing on a pedestal. The noises were much louder now, and they were getting closer to the source. Eventually, the cavalry approached a crowd of both Cheesians and Cheese Guards who were facing the largest cell of them all.

"Sir, he's out of control!" Said the Cheese Lieutenant, who was frighteningly grasping a spear. The Colonel exchanged a look with the Cheesian and then handed his spear to a Cheese Guard.

"My war weapon, please." The Colonel said. A Cheesian handed him what looked like a massive baton of sorts. It resembled an axe, too, but it had four blades on its end that each stuck out in opposite directions. The blades looked to be of hot, burning metal, as they glowed with an orange-ish light. Despite the consistent heat, however, the weapon was clearly stable. The Colonel led the other Cheese Guards around the corner and into the large cell, which was lit with blue lights. In the center was the monstrosity himself, Gravy Bones. His massive, wicked skull was faced directly at the approaching Cheesians, while his bulky, "boney" arms were being held back by chains which were being pulled on by Cheesians behind him.

"Aaaaagh!" Bones shouted,pulling on one of the chains and dragging a Cheesian toward him. He swatted the Guard away, before reeling in another from the other chain. "Ah, Colonel! I was waiting for you! How many of your inferiors must I destroy before I consume you!?"

"There will be no destroying or consuming here, Bones." The Colonel declared.

"Bargh! I've already tasted a Cheesian today, and nine Cheese Men!" Gravy Bones kicked the Cheese Guard away. "There is nothing you can do... the prophecy has made itself clear to me... Cheese shall fall! AAARGH!" Gravy Bones began violently stomping forward, erupting the floor with vibrations each time he stepped.

"Cheese, taco formation!" Shouted the Cheese Colonel as he and the Cheese Guards circled around Bones. "I'm giving you one last warning to halt, Bones."

"Hargh! I'll do no such thing, little Cheese man! You will be CONSUMED!" Gravy Bones declared as he stomped forward, roaring and yelling. The Cheese Guards engaged him from all directions, poking their spears into him and jabbing at his gravy and his bones. "RAAAAAAUGH!" Bones retaliated, swinging to the side and swatting four of the guards away. Suddenly, the Colonel threw forward his massive axe, clubbing Bones in the face with it. "Aough!"

"Stand down!" The Colonel ordered as he pressed his attack, along with the other Cheesians, who took advantage of Bones being stunned. The monstrosity was impaled again and again several times in different places, and the Colonel stuck him in the chest with the mace.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha... HAAAAAAAH-HARGH HARGH HARGH!" Bones began laughing. "YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN BEAT ME!? I AM UNCOMSUMABLE! I AM ASCENDED! I WILL RULE CH-" Bones was struck again in the jaw. "RAAAAAAWWOURGHH!" Bones suddenly flailed his arms forward, shrugging two Cheesians aside whilst taking hits from the rest. The Colonel came in for another massive blow, but Bones looped his left arm around and grabbed a Cheesian, blocking the Colonel's baton with his boney elbo as he proceeded to launch his giant hand toward another Cheesian, taking the Guard's spear through his palm, but also picking him up as well.

"Put them down, Bones!" The Colonel ordered.

"Ha! Nevah!" Bones declared, swinging one of the Cheese Guards directly into the Colonel, knocking him back. Four Guards harassed Bones from behind, but Bones swung around and batted one of them away with a Cheesian. "CHEESE WILL BE COVERED BY GRAVY!" Bones exclaimed as he jumped into the air and came back down in a massive, crushing blow as he slammed the Cheese Guards he had in his hands against the floor, causing a massive impact which threw back the remaining Guards and shook the entire Palace. He proceeded to shove the two Cheesians toward his mouth, ripping off their heads with his teeth and consuming them. He dropped the headless corpses onto the ground and then walked over them.

"You'll pay for that, monster." The Colonel declared. "Cheese Lieutenant, more guards!"

"Right away, sir!" The Cheese Lieutenant, who had been on stand-by, called in four more guards, who grouped up with the Colonel and the remaining soldiers. "Those are all our numbers, sir. Would you like me to call for more?"

"Lieutenant," The Colonel began, moving aside to speak privately with the military Cheesennel. "We might lose some Cheese Guards, but I think I can beat Bones into submission. If it begins to look bad, though, contact the Monger and request his cheesious presence."

"A-verah well, my Colonel!" The Lieutenant said with a salute.

"Your weapons merely tickle me, Cheesians. My bones are unbreakable!" Bones declared.

"I beg to differ, Bones, for I've cracked your skull before with this very mace." The Colonel said, gripping his weapon tightly.

"Hargh! A wound easily remedied with some gravy!" Bones stomped.

"You're going to need a lot of gravy, then. Guards, use ranged attacks!" The Colonel ordered as he grabbed a spear from one of the incapacitated Cheesians and flung it at Bones, who took it in the shoulder. The Cheese guards followed, launching seven spears at Bones.

"Aaaaaourgh!" Bones spat, blocking some of the projectiles. "Stop that!"

"Tickled, Bones?" The Colonel taunted before leaping in with his axe, chopping off several pieces of Bones' knee before being knocked aside by a massive cleave from Bones' arm.

"YOUR CHEESIANS ARE UNARMED NOW, COLONEL! YOU HAVE FAAAAILED!" Bones suddenly lunged forward and smashed two Cheese Guards with his hands, crushing them instantly.


Meanwhile, in the upper sections, a fumbling Cheesian approached the Conference Room flanked by Smith. He knocked, then entered. The Cheesian Conference room was quite wide and featured a long desk, a few small tables, several padded, comfortable chairs, and, most noticeably, a large window that stretched throughout the whole room. White light from the cloudy daytime shined throughout the room, and the unsettled lake could be seen being harassed by the wind from the tower's view. This was one of the only windows in the entire Palace, and the room was used as a home for peaceful meetings and conversations between Cheesians.

Lord Parmesan, Lord Colby Jack, and Grilled Cheese Gordon were present, each of them enjoying a glass of warm milk. Gordon had a plate with a piece of toast on it.

"Cheese Lords." The Cheesian said, bowing unsteadily.

"This Cheesian wishes to speak with you about a civil dispute, Lords." Smith stated.

"What business does this have being in the Conference room?" Gordon asked.

"We'll hear 'em, let him in." Colby said.

"Thank you, Lords." The Cheesian replied as Smith backed into the doorway.

"Go on, then, what troubles you, Cheesian?" Colby Jack asked from his seat.

"Well, sirs, to be brief, the Statue of Cheesilius has been moved to the garden area." The Cheesian whimpered.

"The garden!?" Gordon asked. "Salads aren't in season... nobody's going to be down there."

"That is an odd occurrence... who did this?" Colby Jack commented.

"I believe it was Cheesemistress Cynik, sir. She spends much time in the garden and she was speaking about the statue the other day." The Cheesian replied.

"Hmm. What type of cheese are you?" Parmesan asked.

"I am a Swiss Cheesian, sir." He replied.

"Bargh! Here to deliver me hatemail disguised as a request, are you?" Colby Jack asked as Gordon munched on more toast with an "mm!"

"No, sir. I simply wish to inform you that some of us are unhappy with the move, considering the statue will not be viewed by many Cheesians anymore. It belongs in the main hall, sir." The Cheesian replied.

"This is to be taken up with the Cheesemistress, Cheesian." Lord Parmesan replied. "Smith, you should know better! This is no issue for a Cheese Lord's involvement."

"Understood, Lords. I was only following protocol." Smith replied as he approached the Cheesian.

"Wait, surely there's something you can do!" The Cheesian protested.

"I'm afraid not, Cheesian. Please tway with yourself." Colby Jack replied as Smith dragged the man out.

"Fine then, Smith, take me upstairs. I will deliver this matter to the Cheesemonger himself!" The Cheesian demanded.

"The Monger does not give care to your petty requests, sir." Smith replied. "Please tway."

"Where's the mammoth cheese in that? We'll move the statue back ourselves, then!" The Cheesian stormed off.

"My apologies for the disturbance, Lords." Smith said as Colby Jack nodded. Suddenly, a running messenger approached Smith.

"Mr. Smith, a message from the Cheese Lieutenant - it's urgent!" The Messenger said. Smith leaned over to hear the words, then spawned a deep, stern look.

"I'll inform him immediately." Smith, for once, turned away and walked in a rather speedy pace as he headed for the elevator.

"Gordon, make me a grilled cheese!" Colby Jack said.

"No!" Grilled Cheese Gordon scoffed. "I just made a perfect batch of toast."

"Are you suggesting that it is better... without cheese?" Colby Jack asked.

"Of course not!" Gordon replied. "Make yourself a sandwich."

"But you make the best ones." Colby replied.

"Aagh!" Gordon crunched, before beginning to make his way out of the room. "Fine, then! I can't deny that my grilled cheeses are the best in Cheesia... and the world! Hargh hah!"

"Of course." Colby nodded.

"A-one for me too, please." Parmesan added.

"Urgh... very well." Gordon replied as he exited. Parmesan shut the door behind him. Suddenly, Lord Mozzarella entered from a side entrance.

"Have you made a decision, Mozz?" Parmesan asked.

"Indeed." Replied the light-colored Cheesian, who casually strutted in, now wearing a bright white cloak which trailed off into a cape and robe behind him. On the ends of the robe were several red symbols for various brands of Mozzarella cheese. He'd also rid of his noodle vest and cheese-shaker helmet, as two small strings of cheese now flung freely from his head. "Cheesious thought and preparation have gone into the process of planning my next move."

"Your next move?" Colby asked.

"Although it may seem disloyal... scandalous, even, I believe that moving forward with our course is the best option." Mozzarella said.

"Are you truly so sure about that?" Colby Jack asked. "I heard you made a fool of yourself in the council."

"Wherefore would you say that?" Mozzarella turned a wide-eyed look at Colby.

"The other councilors are either laughing about your actions or disturbed by them, Mozz." Parmesan grumbled.

"Then they are foolish! ... and they shall see what results foolishness brings. I assure you, I will bring good mammoth cheese upon us all." Mozzarella replied.

"They said you attempted a coup against the Monger, Mozz." Colby Jack grunted. "I may not like him, but you must admit, that is uncheesious."

"Pfft, it was hardly a coup! Nobody assisted me." Mozzarella responded. "Nevertheless, I stand by my actions. I have done what I have done for the greater good of Cheese and dairy."

"How is that?" Colby Jack questioned.

"Well, the other lords are now wondering just how much scrutiny the Monger can handle." Parmesan replied.

"Don't you see? Parmesan gets it!" Mozzarella scooted forward. "The other lords were left to wonder if the Monger would react to my actions with leniency or discipline. As I've been told countless times by Provolone, King Cheesius would have any Cheesians, lords of not, hanged or executed upon the first sign of disloyalty. That calls for cheesious intimidation."

"I don't see your point." Colby stated. "The Monger banned your cheese for a month... that's not a sought after result!"

"King Cheesar, on the other hand, would sometimes let lords off free for opposing him during the later half of his rule. That calls for much respect upon the Cheese Council." Mozzarella continued. "Among those possibilities, our Monger has chosen a dangerous middle. He can now only look weaker... or more temperamental."

"And the Monger's behavior is quite troubling..." Parmesan added.

"His behavior is unacceptable! He called Maroni a bullswisser! And, he overreacts frequently. He will come to regret that." Mozzarella said.

"What does this have to do with the great good of dairy, though?" Colby Jack asked.

"The Monger's rule must be either altered... or extinguished." Mozzarella replied. "He is what's rotting the very existence of Cheesia! His weak-minded attempts at diplomacy only push us further toward extinction. We all see this, and my father saw it as well."

"Your father was a good friend of the Royal Cheeseline." Colby Jack rebutted.

"In public, he was." Mozzarella replied. "Privately, he saw through the lies of Cheesar and Cheesarius... there was nothing he wanted more than to stop their reign of bullswissery. That is why he committed suicide! He could not bear to watch the Monger and his father ruin this great Empire."

"You don't normally speak about your father." Parmesan added.

"My father... hated me. He left a note to one of his advisers that he felt there was no hope for Cheesia... that I would never be able to properly take up his mantle and right against the uncheesious rule." Mozzarella looked down. "I was too busy cheesing around in my youth to understand the depth of our society... but now I know what I must do. I am the only hope for dairy."

"You still attempted a wild attack on our leader, got your cheese banned, and nearly got yourself killed! That is a cheesious flop!" Colby Jack replied. "We should not support such wild behavior. The Monger is bad and all, but what you did makes the resistance to him look childish."

"Colby Jack!" Mozzarella squeaked. "Don't let Lord Crow's mind games weaken your resolve or your brain. Have you grown sympathetic and foolish after your visit to the Cheesian Corvid."

"Aargh!" Colby Jack blurted. "It was terrible in there, but Crow is a very wise being. He has lived for centuries, you know. We shouldn't be conspiring to commit... well, to commit cheason!"

"See!?" Mozzarella replied. "You've been manipulated! Do not lose your strength of mind due to some stupid animal."

"Aaaagh," Colby Jack leaned against his desk. "I'm not supposed to talk about the session! I... I'm not allowed!" He whimpered and tightened.

"What's gotten into you, Colby!?" Parmesan asked.

"It's OUTRAGEUOS!" Colby suddenly flung up and kicked a bucket of cheese aside. "I don't even know why our stupid Monger keeps that dumb bird around all the time! He's a demon! A cheese-damned monster, worse than anything Gravy Bones every dreamed of being."

"The Monger trusts a very dark being, Colby Jack. You have become a victim." Mozzarella drew a blank expression. "So SNAP OUT of your foolishness and remember our crusade! We banded together for a reason: to end the bullswissery present in our empire. Don't abandon that on behalf of some flying rodent!"

"Indeed, Colby. We must remain strong if we are to achieve the power we seek and deserve." Parmesan said.

"Aaaaaaugh... I can't!" Colby Jack whined. "I'm sorry, but I... I am a High Cheese Lord. I cannot be persuaded by conspirators... I will not submit to cheason!" bent downwards and clinched the table firmly, squinting his eyes and scrunching his orange-yellow nose. Grilled Cheese Gordon reentered.

"Cheese, Colby Jack, are you ill!?" Gordon quickly stomped toward the Cheese Lord. "Quick, eat your grilled cheese! It will make you feel bettah!" Colby Jack begrudgingly took the sandwich and began crunching into it. "Ah, Mozzarella, I did not know you would be joining us! I would have made you a sandwich, but.... eh, take Parmesan's."

"What!?" Parmesan protested.

"He deserves it after what he's gone through, Parm!" Gordon insisted.

"It's appreciated, Gordon." Mozzarella replied before flinging his hand downwards, revealing a small dagger which was concealed in his robe's sleeve. He sliced the sandwich in half and took one piece. "Parmesan shouldn't go hungry." Mozzarella stated before turning away.

"Leaving so soon, Mozz?" Gordon asked.

"I'm afraid I have other business to attend to, Cheese Lords." Mozzarella said as he began strutting away, his half of a sandwich in hand. "Parmesan, I trust that you will tend to Lord Colby Jack's needs." He turned to Parmesan.

"Of course, Mozz." Parmesan nodded, eating part of his slice.

Chapter 25: Bullswissery Edit

The Cheesemonger made his way to the prison section, his staff in hand. He marched through a few hallways at a speedy pace, ignoring several other Cheesians who tried to get his attention. The Monger could hear the cries of horror as Cheese Guards were devoured by Gravy Bones, whose war cry he heard twenty floors above. He arrived to find the Cheese Lieutenant gasping in horror at whatever was going on in Bones' cell.

"What's happened?" The Monger asked.

"S-see for yourself, sir." The Lieutenant trembled. The Monger made his way around the corner and into the cell, only to witness a grand battle between the monster and his chief military cheesennel. Bones smashed, and roared, and threw, and wrecked, and ate, destroying what was left of the squad of Cheesians as the Cheese Colonel stubbornly blocked, dodged, or endured his attacks. He was jumping around and maneuvering through the room, making use of the fallen guards' spears and his own mace as he let forth a cleave onto Bones' face, his mace igniting in orange cheese energy as it burned the monstrosity.

"Enough! My bones will survive all of your pokings, Colonel. GRRAAAAVVYYY!!!" Bones punched the Colonel toward the front of the cell, disarming and immobilizing the Cheesian. Bones stomped forward.

"No bone is unbreakable." The Colonel whimpered, then grabbed two spears lying nearby as Bones approached. "For Cheese!" The Colonel mustered enough courage to charge forward, leaping into the air and plunging the two spears into Bones' torso. Bones let out an ear-murdering scream, but he then closed in on the Colonel. The Cheesian found enough strength to hold back Bones' hands with his arms, but his willpower was breaking. Bones was inching closer, his jaw making its way toward the Colonel's head.

"Your skull will build my bones, Colonel. Ahh, hahh, haha, haaaargh!" Bones pushed forward until the Monger entered, witnessing the event.

"Bones!" The Monger yelled, slamming the bottom of his staff onto the ground. Instantly, a yellow wave of energy pulsed through the room, and Gravy Bones was sent flying all the way to the back, screaming as he was tossed.

"Sir." The Colonel said, breathing heavily as he leaned against the floor. The Monger walked past him, his cane stomping against the floor with each step. Bones recovered and began waddling forward erratically. Suddenly, the Cheesemonger flung his staff forward, launching a stream of golden power at Bones, who was immediately affected. Part of his chest broke down as several of his gigantic bones fell off of him and gravy poured out of different parts of him. The Monger then launched forward three brief, consecutive orbs of Cheesian energy at him, destroying more of his pieces and dismantling him.

"Ahahahahahaha, Monger, have I finally done enough to get your attention!?" Bones spat from his corner.

"Shut up, bullswisser!" The Colonel said.

"You have done far too much, Bones." The Monger declared. "This is unacceptable. After you committed cheason, I would have had you executed, but Maroni insisted that you be kept in your state as eternal punishment for your crimes against Cheesia. Don't make me go back on my promise."

"Your threats are as empty as that KFC's supply of macaroni was, Mongah. I've had a vision... Cheesia will fall to the ground, and from its mold will rise a new era of food dominance... GRAVY WILL DEVOUR ALL!" As Bones said this, the Monger launched another burst of energy at him, scattering even more spills of gravy and pieces of bones everywhere.

"I am the Monger of Cheese, and you are to obey me as such!" The Monger declared.

"Yes... of course, Monger..." Bones whimpered. "... just as soon as I eat you-" Bones was blasted again.

"What was that, Gravy? You will obey your Monger?" The Monger asked.

"Yes..." Bones spat.

"Now, bullswisser, listen carefully. You are going to eat what I bring you, and you are going to like it. There are no exceptions." The Monger stated. On cue, a Cheese Man entered with a bowl of macaroni. Gravy Bones saw this and began spazzing out.

"I don't want macaroni! I've eaten it every week for as long as I can remember! I stopped eating it for a reason!" Bones said.

"Pay no mind to his complaints, Cheese, give him the pasta." The Monger replied.

"Go!" Bones spat again. "And take that INFERNAL thing with you! I WILL NOT HAVE IT IN MY BONES!"

"Really?" The Monger asked. "I'm without good mammoth cheese to hear that, Bullswissah, because I will-ah, because it seems to be the only way to ensure that your bones perform as directed by your Monger." As the Cheesemonger spoke, the Lieutenant entered and saw the corpses of the Cheesians Bones had slaughtered.

"The Bones act as the gravy commands-ah." Bones replied.

"And the gravy is to cover it as commanded." The Monger stepped forward. "This is no longer your realm, Bones. Your mafia is gone, and now your free roam rights have been terminated. The Cheese has become... cheese. I thought you would've learned that when I ordered you to eat your pet."

"My mashed potato symbiote was unfairly abused and mistreated!" Bones growled.

"Did you give those Cheesians any opportunity to surrender?" The Cheese Lieutenant asked.

"I let them see me... gravy thinks that opportunity enough!" Bones cackled and the Colonel slowly retrieved his axe and his spear.

"My brother has been missing for years... he was the finest Cheese Guard known to dairy. Those men were loyal and dutiful to their Monger, and you have no right to end their lives in such a ghastly manner!" The Lieutenant added.

"We need creatures who work under us, which tends to work best when they're loyal." The Monger stated.

"I've been eating consumers... as directed by my Monger!" Bones grumbled. "And your brother is dead... dragged to my consumption by my 'pet'... did the Monger not tell you that?" As Bones said this, the Lieutenant gave the Monger a horrified expression before walking off. The Monger and the Colonel soon followed.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I've failed you." The Colonel looked down.

"Don't blue yourself over your actions, Colonel." The Monger replied. "You fought valiantly, better than any Cheesian warrior ever has. I have all the confidence in Cheesia that you will never fail to deliver cheesious provolone upon any who threaten dairy."

"Thank you, sir." The Colonel bowed.

"If anyone is at fault, it is me... for not doing this sooner." Suddenly, the Monger grabbed the Colonel's spear and held his ring up to it. The weapon glowed yellow and its base became engraved with Cheesian designs and inscriptions. "As long as you wield this weapon, you won't have to worry about Bones any longer."

"It is greatly appreciated, my Monger." The Colonel stated. "How can I show you my gratitude? I would have lost that battle, and for that I am already in debt."

"All I ask of you is that you keep this charm between the two of us... others might not enjoy the fact that I have granted you a taste of Cheesius' holy power." The Monger replied.

"Of course, sir." The Colonel said.


Meanwhile, in a hallway...

"Have I made myself clear, Colby Jack?" Parmesan asked.

"Yes, you have." Colby sighed. "I don't know what came over me. I'm in this just as much as you."

"Let's not exaggerate." Parmesan commented. "Remember, Mozzarella and others are counting on us. We must be careful if we are to secure the future of cheese."

"Of course, but are you sure that Mozzarella is truly reliable?" Colby Jack asked.

"Well, he does seem quite bothered..." Parmesan shrugged. "His abominations are quite troubling, but he is a dedicated member of our crusade. He will perform, and the others trust him. He has reasons to care about Cheesia, after all."

"You speak truth and good mammoth cheese, Parmesan." Colby Jack replied. "Now, I'm going to see if I can find a female Cheesian who's willing to sneak into the upper sections."


Meanwhile, in Lord Mozzarella's personal chambers, the Cheese Lord himself entered upon the slamming of his massive door. Inside was a large hallway that led to a small business area complete with a large, engraved chair and fancy decorations. The room's theme was definitely bright red, and large pots of boiling cheese lined the sides of the room. Operated by machines and Cheesians alike, the contraptions poured liquid cheese into large mixing compartments. Twenty of these assembly lines were present in the room, ten on each side. Out of the boiling pots, humanoid figures began to emerge. They glowed bright, faint yellow colors and seemed to be made out of metal and Mozzarella cheese.

"Were there any complications in my absence?" Mozzarella asked.

"No, sir." Replied the grunting voice of one of his followers. "Well, there is one issue..." He whimpered as Mozzarella darted forward and gave him a stern look. "We're running low on metal... the operation will only be able to continue for another two days with our current supplies.

"I won't accept such a shortened number of supplies! FIND MORE METAL!" Mozzarella ordered.

"Sir." Another Cheesian spoke. "If I may, the Crow Report spoke of a being who could manipulate metal to his will. Would you be interested in finding this consumer, my Lord?"

"Of COURSE I WOULD, CHEESIAN!" Mozzarella squeaked. "This should have been brought to my attention immediately. Oh, what potential this has! ... How have you lot been so delusional as to think that I wouldn't want to hear about this!?" Suddenly, the Cheesians froze. "What, I'm not that scary!"

"Sir..." the first Cheesian began. "Behind you..." Mozzarella turned around only to find that a Cheesian Agent had entered through the door. He wore a simple suit and carried a clipboard.

"What the blue..." The Agent asked, but Mozzarella quickly procured a small knife and swiftly swung it directly into the Cheesian's throat.

"HIDE IT ALL!" Mozzarella demanded. "MOVE IT ALL INTO THE HIDDEN COMPARTMENTS! SHUT DOWN THE OPERATION! MAKE THE ROOM ACCEPTABLE IN TEN MINUTES!" Cheesians scrambled about, trying to contain the mess. "... NOOOW! NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW..."

Five minutes later, Mozzarella's cloak drooped across the stone and wooden floors of the Cheese Palace as he angrily made his way to the Directory. Once he arrived, he barged in, ignoring the Cheesians in his way.

"Lord Cheddar!" Mozzarella squawked.

"What is the issue, Mozz!?" Cheddar walked aside from whatever task he was handling.

"Please tell your Cheesians to behave themselves properly!" Mozzarella demanded.

"I'm going to assume that one of my agents followed through on his daily surprise inspections?" Cheddar was disinterested.

"Yes, in fact, he did, and he began tampering with my relics! They are the finest Cheesian artifacts from China, where cheese was scarce and very few consumers ever ate my ancestor's delicious products!" Mozzarella explained. "He defiled it... broke it! I was forced to eradicate him."

"You killed him?" Cheddar was now interested.

"I did what was necessary... he committed bullswissery!" Mozzarella.

"I think that murdering one of my agents is a bit of an overreaction." Cheddar stated. "Can you give me any more details?"

"Murder!?" Mozzarella squawked. "Justice! He deserved to be tortured by Gravy Bones, not simply killed by the blade of a Cheese Lord... he got off lucky."

"If you say so." Cheddar frowned. "I'll make sure that my agents don't touch your items, Mozzarella." Cheddar turned away.

"You'd better!" Mozzarella said as he exited.

"Cheese, inform the Monger that we may have a security issue. In the meantime, send a team to inspect Mozzarella's quarters." Cheddar said.


Meanwhile, in the prison section, Gravy Bones slept as he was surrounded by eight Cheesian guards. Suddenly, the Cheese Lieutenant approached with a large blade in hand. He slowly approached Bones as he whispered to himself.

"This is for Nathan, Cheese Sergeant of the Cheesian Military!" The Lieutenant whispered to himself. He moved forward, but the Cheese Colonel soon came in behind him. As the Lieutenant nearly struck, the Colonel sprung to action.

"Lieutenant!" The Colonel grabbed the attacker's blade and arms, holding him back. This seemed to wake Bones.

"You heard him... Nathan is dead! He's DEAD!" He whimpered.

"Withdraw, Cheese Corporal..." The Colonel began. "LEAVE!" All but two guards exited, as they were appointed by the Cheesemonger to remain there under all circumstances.

"Let me go, Colonel... let me do this..." The Cheesian whimpered.

"Let him go!" Bones spat, slowly awakening.

"You!" The Lieutenant struggled. "I'll send this through your skull, you monster!"

"And are you prepared for what comes after?" Bones asked. "When I chose to eat that macaroni, I knew it was fixed with a terrible hex... but now, you have awakened me. If you break my bones, yours will take their place." Bones growled and the Lieutenant looked down, considering his options. "The gravy is not bound to me... it is bound to the bones! And the bones must have an skeleton... will ye eat?"

"No.... NO!" The Lieutenant whimpered and tried to attack again, only to be held back by the Colonel.

"Lieutenant!" The Monger yelled, entering, flanked by Smith. "Your brother is still alive."


"I saw myself in the heat of a battle at sea when one of our vessels was captured..." Smith began.

"No... no... you're all liars!" Lieutenant.

"Nigh." The Monger stated. "Bones is merely cruel. I am, however, guilty of keeping this from you, because I deemed it appropriate at the time. For that, I apologize."

"Lieutenant... believe me..." The Colonel began, "There is still hope. Please..." Suddenly, the Lieutenant put down his weapon and slowly made his way out.

"Back in your corner, Bones." The Monger ordered and exited, followed by Smith and the Colonel.


An hour later, a Cheesian in a dark black long coat approached the Cheese Guard overseeing Bones' holding cell. The Cheesian approaching had a more pale color to his cheesy flesh, but his massive brown beard and hair hid much of it. His attire was fancy, but battle-worn and tattered.

"What business is there, Captain?" The Guard asked.

"I've not been one to take up a position in this prison..." The Cheesian began. "No longer."


"I'll be takin' up yer watch, Cheesian." The Captain stated. "Ye best not be arguin' the matter."

"Very well, Captain Asiago." The Guard made his way off.

"Ahhh, Gravy Bones. A worthy foe." Asiago said, gazing into the cell. "But I've no need to test me mettle against ye. I've already proved me worth against fleets of ham legions." Suddenly, Lord Mozzarella appeared, his robe dragging as usual.

"Ah, Captain Asiago, I see you've secured the area." Mozzarella said.

"All but two Cheese Guards, aye." Asiago replied.

"They'll pose no threat." Mozzarella declared.

"Any Cheesian who walks nearby will have heard nothin' but Cheese Guards... restin'..." Asiago grinned as Mozzarella entered the cell. The two guards looked a bit confused, but maintained their posture.

"Monster, awaken!" Mozzarella demanded.

"Aaaaaugh.... consumars!" Bones awakened.

"Ahh, Gravy Bones... we meet a--" Mozzarella was interrupted.

"AARGH!! Who dares summon me!?" Bones roared.

"I, eldest Mozzarella, the High Cheese Lord." Mozzarella introduced himself.

"Who's to say I won't eat you?" Bones coughed.

"My bad, are you hungry?" Suddenly, Mozzarella procured two knives and flung them each into the two Cheese Guards' necks. Asiago cackled and Bones promptly began consuming their corpses.

"You're next." Bones finished.

"Now now, we both know that attacking me would be a bad idea for you, Bones." Mozzarella remained calm as Bones stomped.

"How's that? You look tasty." Bones scrunched.

"I am not your typical Cheese Lord." Mozzarella explained. "There are some of us, myself included, who are currently dissatisfied with our Cheesemonger's rule... we think that you could be a part of that movement."

"Hargh! The Monger is the only one with control over me... I would do anything to end him." Bones replied.

"Of course," Mozzarella replied, "and Cheesia needs nothing more than Cheesarius' resignation."

"Sure, but what does this have to do with me, little cheese man?" Bones asked.

"Let me explain further, you dumb brute." Mozzarella scoffed. "Even Maroni sees the bullswissery in the Monger's actions."

"Argh!" Bones spazzed. "Maroni is a fat bubble of over-boiled noodles... he ruined me! I HATE HIM!"

"Now now, calm down." Mozzarella held out his hands. "I do not represent Maroni, but I do represent my own cause and my own... mission. My father's legacy is at stake here... as well as my own redemption. If we succeed, then Maroni's demise may be made quite possible by your hand... but only if you cooperate."

"I'm listening... and I'm thinking about eating you while I'm listening." Bones grumbled.

"I have created beings similar in nature to your own design... but I need more knowledge of the symbiotic cheese magic. As I have been made aware, you are an expert in this field..." Mozzarella continued.

"You neeeeeed me, hrmmm... keep going." Bones replied.

"If you continue with that attitude, I will see to it that your head gets sliced off and sunk into a boiling pot of cheese myself!" Mozzarella yelled. Before Bones could respond, he continued... "Now, as I was peacefully saying, when our reform takes place, many things could happen, including some... madness, chaos, insanity, and, possibly... war. Of course, I assume you thrive in warzones, do you not?"

"I do consume many consumers when battles take place, just as I can consume many consumers during a peaceful, sunny afternoon when the world is gleeful." Bones kept going. "I thrive in all conditions, Cheese man, and I am not intimidated by you."

"Nevertheless, a conflict between Cheesians would certainly prove to be... beneficial to you, would it not?" Mozzarella replied.

"That is true..." Bones grumbled.

"And with both Maroni and the Monger at stake, you could reap many benefits from this outbreak." Mozzarella continued.

"You make a compelling argument, little cheese man. Now, tell me, WHEN MAY I UNLEASH THE GRAVY UPON THE CHEESE AND CONSUME THEM ALL!?"

"Patience, Bones. The tasks I have in mind will require great consideration and careful planning. After all, the condition of all cheese and dairy is at stake." Mozzarella responded.

"Tell me, then." Bones said.

"So, you agree to our terms, then?" Mozzarella asked. "And you will keep this among the two of us, yes?"

"If it gets me the skulls of Maroni and the Monger, I shall." Bones declared.

"Good. You are about to be part of something beautiful." Mozzarella grinned and Asiago entered.

"Mr. Mozzarella, if I may, I'd be inclined to inform ye that other Cheesians are approaching." Asiago said.

"What's stopping me from eating him?" Bones asked. "He looks crunchy."

"How about I make ye an offer, hmm?" Asiago began. "Something to eat other than macaroni..." he procured an apple from his coat pocket. "An apple."

"Mrmm, tasty." Bones slobbered.

"Ye'll be agreein' to our terms, though, before I hand it over." Asiago grinned.

"I get the apple... you get to keep your head!" Bones yelled.

"We have an accord." Asiago tossed the fruit at Bones, who caught it in his mouth and consumed it instantly.

"Now now, before we depart, I'll need to ask you a few questions, Bones. We have much to discuss."

Chapter 26: The Beautiful Blonde Edit

The hour was 4:28 AM. A stolen police car, erratically driven by Par, carried Boog and the unconscious bodies of Richard and Bill as it smashed a trash can aside in its arrival at Beautiful Blonde's Exotic Establishment. The car parked improperly and there was a brief pause of silence before anything happened. Suddenly, Boogie stepped out of the passenger side of the vehicle; he took a while to do this, as he walked at a zombielike speed. He took his time wobbling around the vehicle, slowly pushing out his gargantuan stomach which was, as usual, creeping out from under his shirt. His messy, orange, greasy hair, which had been depleted of its snack bags, flopped in the wind as he stepped over to Par, who was grunting out of the vehicle.

"Well." Boogie began. "Should we go in?"

"Might as well." Par groaned, limping as he shut the car door. "I don't even know why I fookin' bother anymore... everyone's injured, I've been shot, and I'm stuck with the fat slug that you are as my only remaining companion... I swear, if I wasn't so important to this world's future, I'd just end it already!"

"Heergh, well, Par, sometimes I've thought about dyin', like, but I don't wanna die." Boog stated.

"No shit, Boogie." Par remarked. "Alright, I'm seizing the opportunity to hopefully communicate with a reasonable, mature, tolerable human being who might start talking about something meaningful." He headed for the front door, which was complete with fake red mistletoe.

"Wait, but, I'm not mature? I think I'm super mature, like, at least sometimes..." Boogie mumbled, waddling up the path and following Par to the entrance. Par slammed the door open.

"I NEED A PENIS!" Par shouted. "Two, actually! And some bloody damned good medicine."

"What?" Asked a woman from behind a large, wooden desk straight in front of Par. She was wearing glasses and had been looking down onto her book, so her eyes met directly with Par when she looked up. There were two more doorways to the right and another section to the left, the latter housing several cushioned chairs and magazine tables with an old, 20 inch TV sitting atop a metal stool. A couple of older people sat awkwardly in the chairs, staring at Par with horrified expressions.

"It's... not for me." Par explained. The smell of pumpkin candles, coffee, and hand sanitizer filled the building. Boogie entered, shaking from side to side.

"For him?" The woman gestured to Boog.

"Where is she!?" Boogie blurted, turning his head from side to side.

"In the bathroom." Par remarked.

"Where's the bathroom?" Boogie asked obliviously.

"To your left, if you can fit." She commented, still not bothering to get up from her seat.

"So, Miss?" Par began. "I only really 'need' one dick, but two would be better if you can manage it. Might as well make sure our exotic Billiam doesn't become any less masculine... his voice is high enough."

"Waot?" Boogie gulped, turning his head in various directions.

"For you and your... pet?" The woman looked at Boog.

"No, for two others... they're unconscious in our car." Par explained. "I have plenty of currency to compensate you."

"Wait, this is the fat girl?" Boog asked.

"Excuse me!?" The woman gave Boog a death stare. "You're one to fucking talk, bitchmuffin."

"I'm afraid my friend here, Mr. Boogie, is not one for manners." Par commented as he removed his palm from his face.

"Wait." Boogie derped. "She isn't fat! I thought you said she was fat!?"

"Sorry, I don't heal penises for squeaky, idiotic bitches." She shooed them away. "Even if you're rich, squeaky, idiotic bitches."

"Boogie, please close those insufferable vagina lips of yours, or I'll tell Miss Blonde here to curse you to see out of your nose for eternity." Par grinned. "And I'll pay her for it."

"One pissbaby or two, I still don't do business with 'em." Blonde commented.

"Look, woman, nobody's calling you fat. I believe Mr. Boogie here is simply... disappointed, be--"

"YOU ARE THE BEAUTIFUL BLONDE!" Boogie quacked. "WHY AREN'T YOU FAT!?" Boogie pouted, then stomped over to the waiting area. "She was supposed to be fat!"

"Disappointed? What, is there something wrong with me!?" Blonde questioned.

"He wanted you to be fat, like him." Par explained, rolling his eyes. "Now, not once did I comment on your appearance, so I'd appreciate it if you could get me what I need now before I bleed out on your floor!"

"How do I know you're not one of them?" Blonde asked.

"One of who?" Par groaned.

"One of those agents who get rid of peculiar people." Blonde explained.

"Oh, I am, but luckily you're not on the list." Par commented. Suddenly, the door slammed open.

"What the hell is going on here!?" Richard asked, entering in a trail of blood. He held only one eye open and limped a few steps before collapsing. "This better be a damned healer, Par!" The old people in the waiting section resumed staring in horror.

"Of course it is!" Par grunted.

"What happened to you?" Richard asked.

"Less than what happened to you, apparently." Par remarked.

"Clearly." Richard agreed before falling unconscious again.

"Anyways, Miss Rose Carter, isn't it? I've already been filled in on your details." Par went on.

"Yea, but I prefer Blonde."

"Yes, 'beautiful' Blonde, as I understand." Par remarked.

"No, just Blonde."

"Then what's with the title?" Par asked.

"Well, it was s'posed to be a joke, but it stuck, so now I'm just called Blonde."

"Noted, now, do you have any yes-men who can help me transport a couple of people in here?" Par requested.

"No need," Blonde waved her finger and then stood up from her ancient chair, which squeaked loudly when it became vacant. She wore a long, green dress with white flower designs on it and sported a pink butterfly hairclip which held back her long, brown hair. She walked casually to Par and then poked him, and he suddenly passed out. She looked to the side and saw Boogie tampering with some decorations. Suddenly, he found a candle and promptly ate it.

"Mmm! Pumpkin." Boog slurped.

"Idiot." Blonde shook her head.

"Wait.... AAAAEH! EEEEEEEAAAAGHH!" Boogie began his tantrum.

"You're not supposed to touch anything." Blonde sighed. "That's why."

"OH MAH GAAAWD... MY STOMACH'S BURNIN'! I'M ON FIRE, HALP!" Boogie quacked, storming through the building and wrecking various items in his path. He began shaking one of the customers violently. "YA GOTTA HALP ME!" Before he could do anything, however, Boog suddenly flew back and let out a massive burp which sent several large bubbles out of his mouth.

"I hate life." Blonde muttered.


The hour was 8:39 AM. Boogie had finally recovered from his consumption of one of Blonde's pumpkin candles, and he began strolling through her "clinic." The normal customers had exited, and the front section was empty.

"Oh." Boogie gulped. "Okai." Boog proceeded to head into the back room, where he found a large room complete with a green rug and several brown curtains concealing other sections. Pottery, odd sculptures, and a large cabinet of jars completed the left side of the room, while the right was filled with a large library of books. Ahead were several large cushioned chairs, each holding various cats, which rested comfortably. Boog sniffed one of the bottles, but scrunched his nose as he took a whiff of the smell. "Eugh. That's nasty." He read a label which stated "eyeball juice." and proceeded to slam the jar back onto the shelf violently, walking, or, rather, wobbling, forward into the room. He licked his lips and looked for something to eat.

"Any explanation for why you're back here, shitweasel?" Blonde's voice assaulted Boog's temper, and his ears. She was behind a curtain to the left, sitting in a wooden rocking chair with a magenta cushion and a light green blanket on it. The gypsy was facing away from Boog, and she appeared to be working on some sort of constructed item, but Boog didn't bother to pay much attention to it.

"I got hungry." Boogie explained.

"Oh?" Blonde asked. "I understand you have a lot of snack food on your person. Go eat that."

"I don't want snack food!" Boog complained. "I mean, I love junk food, but, like, I need some'in real, ya'know?"

"Nope." Blonde replied. "I keep my own food in here, but, like, I don't give it to people, ya'know?" Blonde mocked.

"Herh," Boogie quacked. "Guess ya like the way I talk. Maybe we can get along okay... I mean, you're not fat, but, like, it'll do."

"I'd sooner blow a goblin." Blonde responded.

"What kinda goblin? Like the green goblin?" Boog asked.

"Yes, most goblins are depicted in media as green." Blonde sighed.

"I think that's in a movie or somethin'." Boog blurted, and then decided to take a look at Blonde's supply of books. Most of them were at least a decade or two old, but there was one shelf entirely dedicated to various versions of each Harry Potter book. In front of them was a Harry Potter doll standing nude. "He doesn't look like a goblin." Boogie gobbled, then examined the "educational" aisle. Several guides on combative magic were present, such as How to Curse your Boyfriend in 10 Days, Perfect Fixes for Nasty Bitches, and How to Hex Humans for Dummies. Sadly, Boog could not find a section for cook books, but he did notice a small comic book area. "Cap'in America." he muttered as he violently ripped through the comic.

"I'm not sure I've ever encountered a person as naturally annoying as you are." Blonde muttered, then chuckled, still perfecting her item, whatever it may be.

"Huergh, thanks." Boogie slurped, then returned to the middle room. "Lots'a girls think I'm really funny, but it's not really what I say, but just the way I say it that makes them laugh."

"I doubt you could come up with a joke worth laughing at it." Blonde replied.

"What's the temperature of a tauntaun?" Boog asked, but before Blonde could process the thought, he continued. "Lukewarm! HUEH! HUERGH HUERH!" Blonde giggled slightly at how retarded it was, then shook her head. "I see you laughin'!"

"Please go away." Blonde stated.

"Well fine." Boog gulped, then found a creaky, wooden chair to sit on in the room.


The hour was 7:20 PM. Richard, Par, and Bill lay unconscious on the green carpet in the back room of Beautiful Blonde's Exotic Establishment. As usual, Par was the first to awaken. He sat up slowly, examining his wounds--the spots where they used to be-- and brushing himself off. "Perfect." He grinned, standing up and stretching into a position of victory. He addressed the others. "Richard, wake up." He commanded; this did nothing. Par proceeded to squat down and slap Richard in the face. "Well, go on then!" This seemed to wake him, as Richard opened his eyes and then promptly punched Par in the face.

"I thought I taught you some manners." Richard commented, standing up as Par wiped the blood from his nose and proceeded to lick it off of his fingers.

"The keyword being some, evidently." Par replied.

"C'mon, boys, don't bloody each other up so soon. I just healed y'all up." Blonde commented.

"Really?" Richard paused, then looked to the side. "GENTS! ... MY DICK... IS RESTORED!" Par facepalmed.

"How did you manage that, by the way?" Par asked. "Truth be told, I've never dealt much with healers."

"Well, first off, I'm not technically called a 'healer.' I just specialize in the spiritual arts." Blonde explained.

"Spiritual arts here having the meaning of keeping toenails in a can?" Richard asked, surveying the area.

"Yea." Blonde said. "Secondly, All of y'alls injuries seemed fairly recent, so I returned all of your bodies to the state they were in three days ago. Apparently your friend still hadn't bathed for a while at that time." Blonde explained.

"I'm afraid he doesn't bathe at all, as it seems." Richard commented. Suddenly, a quacking was heard as Boogie awakened in his chair.

"Ohmahgaaaw!" Boogie squawked. "Heyh-heeyeuank!"

"Well, I see at least one of our obnoxious companions has made it this far. What the hell ever happened to Walker and Dent?" Richard asked.

"They abandoned us, apparently." Par explained. "The authorities sent after then, and I'm sure the bears are involved too. Bloody wankers."

"Sausages." Richard commented. "What did they hope to accomplish from that?"

"Hell if I know." Par shrugged as Richard made his way to the library.

"This is quite the collection of confooderacy." Richard remarked. "Have anything on how to make killing a fat guy look like a suicide?" He looked to Boog.

"Shat the fuck up, Gold." Boog burped. "Hey wait... you guys woke up!" Boogie suddenly realized this.

"No shit, internet explorer." Par commented.

"Waot?" Boogie belched again.

"Wait a second." Richard said, eyeing the Harry Potter doll. "You were the lady from the store!"

"The what?" Blonde spawned a confused expression.

"You're a thief, then. Why on earth would you need to steal this?" Richard asked.

"I can just as easily undo what I did to you, y'know, bitch." Blonde turned to give Richard a stare.

"And I can have ten agents with drainers here in fifteen minutes, bitch." Richard replied.

"You'd better be glad that I'm too tired and without shits to give right now, otherwise shit would be goin' dooown." Blonde threatened.

"I rather doubt it." Richard replied. Suddenly, Bill finally woke up.

"Oh look! He's awake! He's awaaaake." Boogie stared intently at Bill, who slowly stood up and examined himself. Before saying anything, he took off his tan trench coat and proceeded to wrap it around his waist and let it fall down over his knees.

"Why are you wearing a dress?" Blonde asked and Bill scoffed.

"How dare you? This is not a dress, it is, in fact, a tunic. Very big difference." Bill stated.

"Okie dokie." Blonde smirked. "So what do they call you?"

"Ohhh." Par sighed.

"Please, no." Richard commented.

"Why?" Par asked in frustration.

"I am Kahmunrah, great stench of the great stink, and from the deepest depths of the abyss, I... have come back... to life!" Bill yelled.

"Uh-huh." Blonde raised her eyebrows.

"Perhaps you did not hear what I just said." Bill began, stepping toward Blonde. "I am a sewer-dwelling Stench Lord. I was freshed, but now... I have come back... to life!"

"Yeah, no, I heard you the first time." Blonde commented. "Just gonna call you Vajayjay."

"How DARE you? I will not hesitate to stink you right now, this instant, Miss..." Bill was at a loss for words. "Wait, who are you?"

"I'm Rose Carter, but call me Blonde." Blonde smiled.

"Blonde?" Bill asked, confused. "You are not blonde! Your hair is clearly brown."

"It's just a name, asswipe. Chill." Blonde mocked.

"If you address me with those words again, I shall stench you right now." Bill declared. Blonde said nothing, but promptly gave Bill the finger.

"Let's avoid any stinking or... any other supernatural forms of combat here, shall we?" Par suggested.

"Sounds good to me." Richard agreed.

"Well, I think it might be fun to see Bill get his ass kicked by a girl. HUERH. HUERGH HUERGH!" Boogie quacked.

"You're not helping, bean-bag." Richard remarked.

"Hey Bill." Boog said randomly. "Blonde likes goblins. Like the Green Goblin, he-heurgh."

"That's from Spiderman." Bill explained. Boogie looked up, then rushed to the comic book section. He found one Spiderman comic.

"Wait, did you say Amazing Spiderman or just Spiderman?" Boog asked.

"I said Spiderman!" Bill shouted.

"Dammit." Boog sighed.

"Maybe we should just be on our way before anything too violent breaks out, eh?" Par remarked.

"Hey now, you still owe me, buttmunch." Blonde commented. "Better not try to leave here without payin' up."

"Ah yes, terribly sorry, madame." Par bowed, then approached Blonde's small area with his wallet in hand. He procured a stack of cash, then turned to Richard.

"What?" The 'Southern Brit' asked.

"Well, go on then. We pay half and half." Par explained. Richard scrunched his face.

"It's not about the moooneeeey," Richard shrugged.

"Richard! Pay up!" Par demanded.

"Aaaargh, just give me a minute." Richard groaned, then procured some money, which Par handed to Blonde along with his own. "Now, before we actually go anywhere, we should make some plans."

"Recover the cheese, return to Cheesemonger, rinse and repeat?" Par asked.

"You make it sound so simple." Richard replied.

"Of course, consumer." Par said, then paused. "Oops."

"You really need to stop picking up what other people say." Richard suggested. "Don't wanna end up like Bill here."

"I will act how I wish in the exact moment that I want to act it!" Bill said.

"That made no sense, but okay." Richard replied. "Now, as I was saying, we need to actually plot this out. First, what's our mode of transportation?"

"A stolen police car." Par replied.

"Huerh!" Boog quacked.

"Perfect!" Richard said.

"Ha!" Bill said in what seemed like a partially Davy Jones-ish voice, but he kept his deep tone.

"What?" Par questioned.

"I thought we were all saying short phrases. Is that not what we're doing here?" Bill asked.

"No." Richard answered.

"Anyways, we'll need to somehow locate Cher," Par began. "Any ideas where she might have headed? She was injured, so it's unlikely that she made it out of town or anything yet. We should check with hospitals to see if they've encountered anyone matching her descriptions, and use the police car to see if any policemen with radios have reported sightings of our masked, dick-stealing vigilante. We should also check the building where you had your little confrontation, as she might have even held up somewhere near there."

"She's seven miles from here." Richard stated, studying a small electronic device in his hand.

"What?" Par asked.

"Did I not tell you I placed tracking devices in my bullets?" Richard grinned. "Well, she's either there or she's still at the site of our last confrontation, but I'd guess that signal is the bullet she pulled our of herself. It's the bullet in her favorite dick bag that I'm tracking."

"Dick bag. Hueh-heeyuah!" Boogie quacked.

"Shut your trap, ye damned tootsie-roller!" Richard shouted.

"Yes, indeed, silence over there!" Bill demanded.

"Shat the fuack ahp, Bheel!" Boog squawked.

"If you say that again, I swear, I will stench you right now." Bill threatened.

"We'll just be on our way, then." Richard suggested as he and Par made their way toward the doorway. Boog began getting out of his seat to follow.

"Ah yes, one more thing." Bill looked to the side where the seats were. "I will require your cats." Bill declared and Blonde laughed.

"Hahahaha, nice try, Vajayjay, but my cats are loyal to me. Even if they weren't, I have a spell on them to prevent them from going to anyone else." Blonde explained. Bill smirked.

"Come to me, my glorious pussies!" Bill held his hand out toward the cats, and suddenly, all five of them jumped out of their cushioned seats to follow him. One held onto his leg, another circled around his feet, and he picked another one up. Blonde was without a reaction.

"How did you..." Blonde's face turned into a horrified expression of terror and confusion.

"Goodbye, Miss Not-Blonde." Bill remarked as he gave Blonde the bird and turned to follow the group out, petting his cat as he exited.

Chapter 27: Consultation Edit

Meanwhile, in the Grand Cheese Palace...

The Cheesemonger and Cheese Lords Cheddar, Provolone, Swiss, Gouda, Parmesan, Pepper Jack, Colby Jack, Mozzarella, and Maroni were present in the Cheese Council. The Cheese General also stood nearby, and he was an old, wrinkled Cheesian with a large gray beard.

"Cheese Lords, let us begin our conference." The Monger said as the Lords sat in their respective seats.

"My dip has been prepared, Lords." Gouda stated, handing out several bowls of his product. "Eat up!"

"And my macaroni is in the oven." Maroni added.

"Good mammoth cheese." The Monger commented. "Now, today we'll be talking about a possible threat to the Palace." Lord Gouda gasped and Lord Pepper Jack sighed. "The Meat Dynasty's vessels have been seen patrolling merely seven nautical miles from the Palace's location."

"How dare they?" Swiss asked. "They have no reason to intrude upon our seas. Our treaty was quite generous!"

"Indeed." Provolone added. "We must send diplomats to discuss this with the Meat."

"As Minister of Communications, I will take full responsibility of dealing with the Meat Dynasty." Maroni declared.

"I'm sure Maroni will handle the situation properly." Mozzarella added. "For now, there are more pressing matters to tend to."

"Indeed. If we have to, just send Asiago on the Meats and let them regret threatening cheese." Parmesan commented.

"It would be a good idea to discuss the latest crow reports." Colby Jack muttered.

"I understand that what the consumers have been up to is... disturbing," Swiss replied. "However, we cannot ignore the Meat Dynasty, and simple sending war cheese upon them will not solve our issues. We can deal with one problem at a time."

"The lunatics are out of control!" Mozzarella squeaked. "My fellow Italians and my allies in Asia all agree that the consumers have become a danger to us all. If we don't act now, who knows what kind of curses they could cause while in the possession of the Holy Cheese!"

"While I recognize the threat of the Meat Dynasty, I cannot ignore the failure of the consumers." The Monger stated.

"Then you have conjured cheesious wisdom." Lord Pepper Jack commented. "If only it weren't too late." Parmesan and Mozzarella exchanged looks.

"That is why I have asked Lord Cheddar to take cheese out of his busy schedule to provide a detailed report on the consumers' behavior." The Monger said. "Cheddar, you may begin."

"Very well, Monger." Cheddar cleared his throat. "As of now, two consumers have broken off from the main group. They are fleeing, and we have bears in pursuit, but the authorities are making matters... difficult. The consumers have failed to evade the authorities' watch, and it will likely only be a matter of time before they are taken into custody."

"Perhaps, if the consumers weren't so foolish, they'd succeed in their mission." Maroni commented.

"Consumers have always been clumsy," Provolone remarked. "What did you expect, Maroni?"

"I expected the consumers to be able to at least avoid the terrible inconveniences which they have encountered, however, we cannot change that now. All that we can change is what we do about it now." Maroni replied.

"And I expected the Monger not to trust a band of newts with a matter as important as the Holy Cheese itself," Mozzarella exclaimed. "Don't you see what is happening? Our lack of a military force has doomed our ability to act! We must rebuild, and we must rid our mission of these consumers."

"Trust me, High Cheese Lord Mozzarella, our Cheese Men and Cheesians make up quite an impressive force of power." The Cheese General declared. "There is no need to attempt to 'rebuild' something that we already have. The question, however, remains... how will we use what we have?"

"Indeed." Provolone stated. "I understand that you want large amounts of change, Mozzarella, but what you're calling for will not grant us that and is unneeded."

"As I was saying, the consumers are no longer in one party." Cheddar explained. "Also, they have recently taken up residency in the home of a sorceress who, as my intelligence suggests, is healing their injuries. To be fair, they were gravely wounded in their contest with a vigilante. Also, they have caused a great deal of unrest within the regular town-inhabiting consumers. A casualty by stench, and a man who can no longer use his hands because of the consumer with the gun have been reported."

"Vigilantes, witches, investigators, and even sheriffs have been dealt with by cheesians on foot in the past," Colby Jack stated. "It is clear what we need."

"Colby Jack, we're not sending out cheesians." The Monger declared. "Lord Crow asked how your behavior has been since your session... I must say, I am disappointed. Have we all forgotten the dangers of revealing ourselves?"

"I combat the consumers and the mistakes that would expose us every day, Monger." Cheddar added. "Adding military cheesennel would only worsen the situation. More conflict calls for more errors, and errors are the opposite of results."

"In the old days, the Cheesian Empire ruled high and mighty above all else. What happened to our great reign? Are we all to submit to being intimidated by consumers?" Parmesan debated.

"In the age of the Empire, consumers fought with sticks and blades, Parmesan." Provolone commented. "Don't fool yourself into thinking that it was too secure, either; we all know that Cheesia has always been combated by various foes, whether they be consumers, other food empires, shaky allies like the stink or the kink, the dreaded legions of feces, or even the armies of Blue. Times change, and with it, Cheese changes. This is proven by the very records of our history."

"I think there is a simple solution to both of our problems." The Monger said. "Let Maroni use his expertise in diplomacy to handle the Meat Dynasty. First, though, I want Lord Swiss to communicate with the Meat and extend our sympathies and cheesious good will to them. If need be, we can arrange adjustments to our agreements. We will find a reasonable solution in time, so long as the Meat King is cooperative. As for the consumers, we will first make things easier for them to acquire the cheese. Send more bears to monitor the area, and, as we decided before, keep the consumers in the town. Continue pursuing the two consumers who were separated from the group."

"Must any action be taken to deal with the sorceress who aided the consumers, sir?" Cheddar asked.

"If she hears of their mission, she may break them from my influence and free them from our crusade." The Monger explained. "Bears will not be a sufficient answer to the threat she poses. Send the old man in the shack to deal with her. He can decide if she should be left alone, recruited, or destroyed. With supervision, of course."

"Good mammoth cheese." Cheddar commented, and Provolone nodded.

"This meeting has run its course." The Monger declared. "Swiss and Cheddar, get to work. Mozzarella, make sure Captain Asiago is on standby in case the Meat vessels try anything bullswisserous. General, consult Provolone and the Colonel and figure out which of our strategies are known to the Meat Dynasty. If conflict does become necessary, we need to element of surprise. Maroni, meet me in my throne room. Havarti will be there as well."

"I want those consumers incinerated, Monger." Pepper Jack demanded.

"At a much later date, Pepper." The Monger replied. "Once they have fulfilled their duties to cheese."

The Council was adjourned, and the Cheese Lords left their places. The Monger promptly returned to his throne room.

Lord Swiss and Lord Cheddar met in the directory.

"It's been a few years since I've seen this section." Swiss commented. "I must say, I cannot follow the constant upgrades in technology that you continue to install. Why not find something good and stick to it?"

"To maintain maximum efficiency, we must always have the best of the best in terms of equipment, Swiss." Cheddar replied.

"I suppose." Swiss seemed like he had more to say, but he held it back.

"It will take some time to design a proper list of points to bring up to the Meat, and I want to make sure that we get another update in on their vessel's location before we establish communication." Cheddar stated.

"So, you're implying that I need to wait?" Swiss asked.

"Yes." Cheddar replied and Swiss shrugged.

"Well, Cheddar, I have always respected your wisdom, but your sentences are often too lengthy, like many of Mozzarella's noodles."

"I think his noodles are just fine." Cheddar replied. "Not that I make a habit of eating pasta."

"Sir!" A Cheesian approached Cheddar. "Another report on the consumers."

"I don't remember you." Swiss remarked.

"This is Officer American, a recently-appointed staff member." Cheddar nodded. "Go on, Officer."

"Four consumers have just been seen exiting the gypsy woman's headquarters, and the other two are still narrowly evading the authorities. Bears have assisted their escape, but they have undergone a rather lengthy chase, and much destruction has been caused as a result of the predicament. One consumer appears to be injured, and we just learned that they have taken two consumers hostage, both of whom work under the authorities. Sir, locals are asking questions, and the bears are being targeted by local agencies." The American Cheesian finished his report.

"Uncheesious." Cheddar replied, maintaining his relaxed posture.

"Well, go on, then, write it off as some mentally ill crazies and have our allies cover up the rest." Swiss suggested. "There's no need for anymore violence."

"You clearly haven't dealt in these affairs in quite some time, have you, Swiss?" Cheddar commented. "Our consumer connections have slowly diminished ever since we demolished the Mafia of Gravy Bones."

"Well, our sacrifices were made for noble causes." Swiss added. "That organization was disastrous, and it only pushed us further toward exposure."

"Of course, but it was still the source of most of our pull with the consumers," Cheddar replied. "Even Maroni had his influence there, but he's moved to ally himself with some of the human authorities."

"Maroni was wise to do so, but police forces are dangerous," Swiss said. "Some of them are prejudiced towards Cheesians, and we all remember when we had to have some of them slaughtered. We are wise to avoid consumer contact, but, I must say, that I am disappointed in the lack of our influence. It seems as though we have so little control these days."

"I think we control things pretty well, but there is always room for improvement," Cheddar responded. "Then again, some Cheesians would ruin our covenant if they were in my position. Asiago was once disguised as a serial killer who took out primary targets, and, if someone like Pepper Jack were in charge of my division, he would still be out there assassinating those who threaten us."

"That's why the Monger put you here, though," Swiss commented. "You are the right Cheese Lord for the job, and we all benefit from your protection."

"Sir!" Officer American exclaimed. "I don't mean to interrupt, but, with all due respect, I believe it would be wise to find a way to properly deal with the consumers before matters worsen."

"Nigh." Cheddar replied. "We've sent bears, and the consumers are just now leaving the sorceress. Give the old man in the shack transportation to the woman's establishment, but allow the consumers to prove themselves worthy of their quest. The Monger believes that they can succeed, so we shall allow them to do so. Sending in anymore forces will only aggravate the other humans. We have bears there, but, aside from that, the consumers are on their own."

"Uh..." Officer American stuttered. "A-verah well, sir."

"I always support our Monger's decisions, but, do you really think that these foolish consumers can be trusted with such a sensitive task?" Swiss asked.

"Quite frankly, no." Cheddar responded. "These bullswissers are incapable of handling anything with precision, and-"

"Please." Swiss interjected. "The term 'bullswisser' may be common in the Cheese Council, but can you please refrain from using it with me, personally? It is an insult to my heritage, and my ancestors were plagued with hearing it far too many times. Swiss is pristine, and there is no reason why it should be used as a curse."

"Very well. These... consumers, then... their behavior is worse than stale provolone cheese. However, the Monger's wisdom exceeds my own, and there are far too little alternative options. As frustrating as it seems, this is the only option." Cheddar corrected.

"So you do have absolute trust in our Monger, then?" Swiss asked.

"Fairly cheesiously." Cheddar replied. "What reason would I have to doubt him?"

"I don't necessarily doubt him, but some of his outbursts have been... disturbing." Swiss commented. "I fear that some of the accusations going around might have some truth behind them, and I think that our ruler is under a lot of stress. Still, he has managed to come up with solutions to many of our problems, and the others only attack him because they're blind."

"Everyone gets angry every once in a while." Cheddar looked down, then turned to Swiss. "I can understand how you might be concerned, though. Would you support replacing him?"

"Well, the only other Cheese Lords who could properly manage anything would be Provolone or Maroni, and I do cheesiously admire both of them." Swiss admitted. "Still, our Monger is from the royal Cheeseline and he hasn't let us down yet. I can't see how I could agree with any change regarding our leadership in that sense."

"Very good." Cheddar nodded. "I hope you realize that was a test."

"What!?" Swiss choked.


Meanwhile, the Cheesemonger prepared for his meeting. To the Monger's left, Havarti entered first, simply nodding as he slowly strolled through the throne room, which had been slightly redecorated with different Cheesian idols. The decor was regularly alternated. The Monger currently had the gate to the balcony closed off, and orange and yellow lights lit the dark room. The elevator in the front of the room was lifeless, and only one cheese man was on duty.

"Havarti." The Monger nodded.

"For what have you summoned me, Monger?" Havarti asked.

"I wish to consult both you and Maroni for cheesious counsel." The Monger replied.

"Mooonger!" Maroni entered, waddling in with a bowl of macaroni in each hand. One contained noodles with white cheese and several green spices, while the other was filled with noodles covered in the commonplace yellow cheese. "Havaarti!" Maroni added.

"Greetings, Maroni." Havarti commented.

"Please, seat yourselves." The Monger pointed toward two chairs made of burnt cheese, similar to his own throne, which he was currently seated in. Both Cheese Lords sat down, and Maroni set the macaroni bowls on a small table in front of them. He then examined the chair he was sitting in. He plucked a small piece of burnt cheese from it and tossed it aside. "As you are both aware, something is clearly going on with the Holy Cheese. Havarti's visions solidify my concerns."

"Indeed," Havarti replied. "The ill-conceived consumption of the Holy Cheese has been disrupting the very essence of dairy, and many batches of the Holy Cheese have lost their purity."

"It is at times like these in which I feel helpless and lost, Cheese Lords." The Monger sighed.

"Now, Monger, you should not fret too much." Maroni replied. "We have faced many troubles in our cycles, and our ancestors battled the armies of Blue themselves. Nothing is stronger than the will of dairy."

"That may be true, but, think about it. No Monger or King has even fallen upon as much criticism as I have." The Monger stood from his throne and began pacing. "Even you, Maroni, whom I consider to be one of the wisest Cheesians alive, disagree with me frequently."

"That is true, Monger, but we usually find some sort of... agreement, after a while. You are an open-minded Monger, after all, even if you can be stubborn from time to time." Maroni replied.

"To be fair, though, I simply cannot support some of your ideas, Maroni." The Monger stated. "Although, you have seemed to have given up some of your more radical beliefs lately. I've been hearing less and less complaints from you as time goes on."

"And yet, you called me a bullswisser not long ago." Maroni smirked.

"For that, I apologize, Maroni." The Monger's gaze fell to the floor. "You know that I trust you with Cheesia's most delicate affairs."

"It is understandable. You have been a great inconvenience, and I would certainly be overwhelmed as Monger." Maroni commented.

"Why am I seemingly the least capable of my family, though?" The Monger asked. "King Cheesius himself was known for his epic ferocity in battle and his stoic strength in all matters. He could make cheese better than anyone else, he could defeat any Bluean in combat, and he trained the best Cheesian warriors whose descendants fight in our military now. Then, King Cheesilius was renowned as an unmatched strategist. His wisdom superseded even that of Lord Crow's. They say that every Cheesian lost under his rule was a necessary loss, and that he knew the outcome of every battle before it took place. My father, King, or Monger Cheesar, on the other hand, was the most beloved Cheesian to live. He transformed Cheesia and always seemed to know what was best for dairy. Few dared to question him, and kept us in peace for centuries."

"If these weren't your ancestors, I'd say you've been listening to Provolone too much." Maroni remarked.

"I am the first imperfect ruler of cheese. How am I supposed to lead Cheesia if my own Council doesn't fully trust me?" The Monger sat down again.

"This age is much different than any we have seen before." Havarti replied. "The world is different, you are different, the Cheese Council is different, and many Cheesians are different than their ancestors. Take Mozzarella, for example. His father was a prime example of an excellent Cheese Lord, but he is a reckless child with overfilled ambition."

"While I must agree that Mozzarella's hostility is completely uncalled for, I have to point out that his intentions are for the greater good of cheese. His father's suicide destroyed him, and he has been without a purpose ever since." Maroni munched on a spoonful of macaroni between sentences. "The Italians confide in me quite a lot, and I can say that their concerns are made with good mammoth cheese in mind. Monger, perhaps you should simply realize that you cannot please everyone. I suggest remaining confident with your decisions and not... changing anything."

"Perhaps you are right, Maroni." The Monger said. "Mozzarella is no threat to me, and he has his problems of his own." The Monger nodded. "If you can convince the Italians that my choices are wise, then perhaps we can move forward with more productivity in the Council."

"Well, in that sense, there is only so much I can do, but I will examine the situation and decide what option is the best course of action." Maroni smacked on more noodles.

"What of my poisoned son? Or the clear tampering with the Holy Cheese?" Havarti asked.

"Has your son made any improvements?" The Monger asked.

"No, sadly. He has not woken up, and I fear that, with my age, there will be no keeper of the Holy Cheese if he molds." Havarti croaked.

"Perhaps I could use my connections in the authorities to look into the locations where the Holy Cheese has ended up. This would require that my previous permissions regarding the consumers be returned to me. With your approval, of course, Monger." Maroni suggested.

"Do you truly believe that you could make a difference with that technique?" The Monger asked.

"Nothing is guaranteed, but I certainly believe that there is potential for expansion in that area, Monger." Maroni replied.

"It might send to the wrong message to the council, though." The Monger paused. "Havarti, your thoughts?"

"Whatever needs to be done to return the Holy Cheese to its former condition and stop whatever or whoever is tampering with it." Havarti replied. "I trust Maroni's judgment, my Monger, but the choice is up to you."

"You'll have my permission, Maroni." The Monger stated. "Ensure that the Council will understand that this does not mean we are reinstating Gravy Bones' mafia or any rash actions such as those."

"A-verah whell, Monger." Maroni slurped more noodles.

Chapter 28: All Out of Kink Edit

Dent awoke to the sound of sirens and the smell of the remnants of Bill's odor on his own nose. He smelled fire too, but he didn't have the energy or the personality to panic.

"Walka baybey?" Dent asked, but nobody responded. He was in the back of the Kinkmobile, still lying in the position his blue-haired friend had put him in. It took the Kinkmeister a minute to realize that he was slowly sliding toward the middle of the van, and he sat up to balance himself. The perfume of smoke filled his nostrils as the lingering smell of the smelly Billiam finally seemed to subside. He heard the drops of rain on the metal roof of the Kinkmobile, and he heard thunder in the distance ever so often. Suddenly, he felt the Kinkmobile shift beneath him as he was thrown back onto the middle seats. He stumbled, his stick-attached leg giving him trouble as he slowly leaned up to look above the seats and into the front of the vehicle. When his eyes met the driver's seat, they locked on in terror.

"No, baybeh... BIBEH!" Dent was, for once, horrified. As he stared at what he saw, all of his previously steel demeanor was ripped away from him, and he felt like his armor of kink had been shattered, leaving him completely exposed. The Kinkmobile was on fire, and it was leaning halfway off of a cliff. The slow movement he felt was the vehicle slowly tilting further and further toward its inevitable demise. Even more disturbingly, blood dripped from the steering wheel as Walker's lifeless body leaned against it. A pink shard of metal was impaled through his chest, and the entire front of the Kinkmobile had been discombobulated. One headlight was inverted so far that it shone a mildly bright light into the vehicle.

"No...." Dent panicked, rushing to examine his surroundings. It was as if his were still stunned by Bill's stench, as he never could seem to use his vision properly. It was at that moment that he noticed that his women were gone. "NO..... KINK! NOT KINK! MY BAYBAYS!"

Dent scattered through the back of the vehicle until it shifted again, leaning even further over the cliff edge. Dent realized he had to move, so he finally crawled through the Kinkmobile and opened the back doors. He noticed it was raining and that the sirens he heard earlier were still buzzing nonstop. He managed to shove himself out of the vehicle, and he tumbled down off of the elevated rear of the Kinkmobile and onto some pavement that was lubricated with dirt. He stood up, still struggling to see. Then he heard a painful creak of metal behind him and, as he turned around to look, he saw the Kinkmobile plummet off of the cliff side, taking several large rocks with it and crashing violently 70 feet below in an explosion.

"No.... no... NAO.... NAO NAO NAO NAO NAO NAAAAAO!" Dent fell to his knees, clutching his fists in agony and defeat. It took him a moment to realize where he was, though. This wasn't just some random rest area. He knew this place. He knew this cliff... but that couldn't be the case. This wasn't possible. This was where he killed Jim Logan.

"HEEEEEEEEY, DEEEEEEENT!" An all too familiar voice rang out behind Dent as he twitched at the sound of it. No, it couldn't be. It can't be.

"Bibeh... you're dead, baybeh." Dent stuttered as he swung around using his lifeless leg. "You became a baybitchbay..." There he was, Jim Logan, standing in front of Dent with little to no signs of any injuries. He wore a gray jacket, a red Wolverine shirt, and baggy pants. His face was even scarier than before.

"VIRTUAL HUGGGG!" Jim approached him and, with his wicked grin, hugged Dent. The Kinkmeister wanted to resist, but he found that he didn't have the strength to do so. Jim's hugs came in some kind of demonic rapid-fire motion, and, each time his skin touched Dent's, Dent felt a deep streak of pain, as if he were being burned and stabbed at the same time. Jim pulled away and gave Dent his freaky smile once more.

"How are you here, Jim beybie? This is a disgrace to the kink... what in the kink is going on here!? Tell me baybeh!" Dent grew stiff.

"Well, y'see, Deeeeent, I found someone I like more than you! Well, two people, actually. They're great! They love to virtual hugggg." Jim waved his fingers and, suddenly, Dent's arm-women approached him.

"No.... no, bibeh. NAO!" Dent fumed as his former followers latched onto Jim Logan's arms, smiling in the same way that Jim was.

"You tried to kill me, Dent, but you shoulda known better!" Jim squealed. "I am Jim Logan after all, and some say I just can't be killed!"

"You're just a regular baybitchbay, baybitchbay! You don't got any kind of supernatural kink going your way. This is some kinda kank... I'm bein punished by the holy kink!" Dent searched for words.

"Nah, you're just finally seeing things for what they really are, Deeent!" Jim squawked. "You spent so much time callin' yourself the kinkmeister that you forgot how the real world actually worked! It's great, don'tcha think? We love to virtual huggg."

"You're wrong, babeh. I'm the mastah of the kink." Dent said stubbornly.

"Nuh-uh-uhhh, Deeeent. Not anymore!" Jim grinned. Suddenly, thunder cracked loudly and smoke began to flood the area. A voice rang out.

"The time for reckoning has come, Johnny Sea Slasher." Suddenly, in a burst of lightning, Bill descended from the skies. He was covered in muck and reeked his usual stench. He started pacing toward Dent. "You must remember the first and only reality of the kink: there can only be one. And you are no longer the Kinkmeister. You have been replaced!" With that, Bill's eyes glowed various colors and he started trying to manhandle Dent.

"Halt bibeh!" Dent resisted. "Get the fack off me, baybitchbay!"

"BARE STENCH! DO YOU NOT FEAR STENCH, JOHNNY DENTFACE!? SPIDA-MAN!" Bill attacked Dent with two giant ropes of pit hair now, and Dent felt himself choking on the smell once more.

"See, Dent?" Jim asked, still grinning. "It's all good. You're just finally gettin' a good dose of your own kink! Funny, don'tcha think? After all these years of immunity, and your pimp can't save ya from the paaaaain."

"Pain!" Bill squeaked in his Bane voice. "It is a necessary evil to build your endurance. Without it, you are nothing!" Bill struck Dent with a blow that sent him falling back. "You think your kink is your ally, but you merely adopted it. I was born kinky! Kinked by the kink... I never saw konk until I was already a man, and by then it was nothing to me but kank!" Bill continued his attack, but Dent managed to limp away and dodge his way out of the onslaught. He took this moment to run toward Jim.

"BAYBITCHBAAAAAAAY!" Dent tackled Jim, startling the derpy videogame lover and sending him into the dirt. "YOU DESTROYED THE KINKMOBILE! TWICE! YOU TOOK MY BAYBAYS! YOU STOLE MY KINK!" Dent began violently beating Jim with his severed leg, but Jim didn't seem to respond. "DIE, BAYBITCHBAY!"

"Nah, Dent." Jim said between blows. He wasn't bleeding, and he didn't appear to be taking any damage from Dent's attack. Dent stood up in disbelief as Jim, and his arm-women, stood up. "Remember, I'm too pimp for pain." Jim smiled as Dent grew outraged. "And never forget, I... am the kinkiest man alive."

"NAAAAOOOO!" Dent tried to lunge for Jim again, but he smelled Bill approaching him from behind. When he turned around, he found Bill smacking into him, saying...

"Ready for a hug-ah!?" in his Davy Jones voice. The stink outweighed Dent's kink, and he found himself trapped as Jim Logan approached him from behind.

"Heeeeey, Dent! VIRTUAL HUGGGG!" Jim trapped Dent between the two people he'd hate being in contact with the most.

"GET OFF ME BAYBAYS! GET OFF!" Dent struggled for control, but he found himself unable to resist. Suddenly, he saw Walker climb up the cliff edge. He still had his injury, and his hair was burnt and dirtied, but he managed to get up. "WALKA BIBEH! YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO!" Suddenly, strange opera music started playing. "What is this baybitchkank?"

"OOOOOOODD HAAAATES YOU!" Walker sang in sync with the chorus. He sang a few more lines that Dent didn't understand.

"WALKA BIBEH! WHAT ARE YOU DOIN!?" Dent cried for help.

"And now, time for the main event!" Walker's face lit up into a dreaded smile, but he approached Dent in a zombielike fashion. He wasn't marching anymore, and his pacing was awkward. "BUTTRAPE IS HERE! GO FUCK A DEER! WHAT DID YOU JUST HEEEEAAR, RIGHT NOW!?"

"Stop dat baybay!" Dent yelled, but Walker continued walking toward him while singing the opera song. Dent could not tolerate this, so he did the only thing he knew to do. He bit into Bill's arm, tasting the dreaded essence of the sewer-dweller. He then managed to bite off the arm, sending Bill back with a "WHUAAAAAAH!" in pain. Dent swooshed around and used Bill's severed arm to club Jim in the face. Before anything else happened, he started running away. Unfortunately, another voice spoke to him.

"The Legion will consume you, Slasher of the Seas. We've found you, at last."

"No, bibeh!" Dent panicked.

"Your time has come, Dent. Your extermination is inevitable. You must be cleansed."

"Nope! Not happenin, baybitchbay!" Dent retaliated, but he had no way to escape.

"Dent! Don't do this!" Walker shouted, finally abandoning his singing voice.

"Trust me, I'm a doctor." Another voice echoed.

"Everyone knows, when the legion finds you, there's no escape." The last voice said.

"Don't worry, Dent, you'll be fine." Jim's greasy voice suggested. "Just stop runnin'."

"He's been stinked." One of the voices said.

"Of course he's been stenched." Bill stood up, even without his right arm. "There's a reason my armpit is the worst hell on earth. No odor matches my own-ah. Dent's time is up. You're all out of kink, Kinkmeister."

"Get off your damn arse and do something, Dent!" Richard appeared in the distance.

"Don't move!" Jim shouted. "We all know what will happen if you force me to get violent, Dent. And I'm not usually a violent person."

"Hey, there's no need for violence!" Keira appeared behind Jim, also latching onto him.

"Virtual hug!" Jim commanded, and the two women on his arms, as well as Keira, repeated his words. "Virtual hug! Virtual hugggg!"

"Dent, I know you hear this. Listen to me, friend!" Walker shouted. All of them were slowly approaching Dent, and he found himself circled by predators.

"If you don't act now, they'll all consume you. Bloody useless sausage." Richard remarked.

"He was never much of a use to us anyways." Par appeared behind Richard. "Just a means to an end. He was never our friend."

"It was only a matter of time before we abandoned him. He's just some freak in a van." Richard replied.

"Why do you even try anymore, Dentface?" Jim asked. "Nobody truly cares about you, except for that blue-haired guy, but, come on, look at him! He's desperate for anyone."

"Nobody loves you." Par remarked.

"Even I got tired of hangin' out with ya." Boogie slurped, arriving behind the others. "And I'm actually pretty cool!"

"Plenty of people love me, baybitchbay." Dent fought back. "I'm the kinkmeister!"

"Not anymore, Dent!" Jim smiled. "Like I said, I've got your kink now... it fits pretty nicely. I'm surprised you were never a true pimp with this influence."

"He tries so hard to be nice to everyone, but, in the end, he's just an acquaintance to everybody he meets. Never a true friend." Par commented.

"We're your responsibility." Richard said. "Look at how far off track we are... you let us get this way. You're the one person in our little band who can do anything, and look at you. You're freaking out over some dead guy. Do something, dammit!"

"It's not your burden to please everyone, Dent." Jim smacked. "Just stop. Let it go and I'll make it all better. You want some calculus? 24 hours!"

"That's facky, Jim bitch." Dent tried to keep a distance from all of them, but they were all slowly gaining ground on him.

"You imprisoned us, Dent." One of the arm-women said.

"You volunteered, Riley baybeh." Dent spat. "You both did! Now you're ruinin' all my kink... you're throwing in with Jim... that baybitchbay destroyed my kinkmobile!"

"Don't abandon us, Dent." Walker inched closer, and Dent could now see blood dripping from his mouth.

"It's too late." Bill grinned. "Your kink's up."

"Or, as you could say, your kink's down." Jim giggled erratically. "You okay, man? You don't look so good."

"He looks dead, like me." Walker said. "He will be soon, I'm afraid. It's time for the main event. Remember the chorus, Dent?"

"HALT, BAHBAYS! NAO NAO NAO NAO NAO NAAAAO!" Dent lost it, desperately lunging forward to attempt to run through the street away from his attackers. As he ran through street, his vision blurred. He saw the rain hitting the pavement and he felt like he couldn't breathe. He fell quickly and stumbled around on the ground. When he got up, he found that he was right back where he started: at the cliff edge.

"You can't run, dumbass." Bill said.

"You can't hide, Johnny." The voice stated.

"You can do nothing, Dent." Walker frowned.

"Need a hug, buddy?" Jim grinned, and Dent realized that he was only 5 feet away from Jim now. "A virtual one?"

"I don't want anything from you, baybitch-freakin'-bay." Dent threw a right cross at Jim, but missed.

"Nuh-uh-uh!" Jim squeaked. "But, well, you couldn't hurt me anyways, remember? I'm too pimp for pain."

"You feel pain, you cunt kitty. I've seen it in your eyes, baybitchbay." Dent growled.

"But I'm the Kinkmeister now! And we all know what happens here when the Kinkmeister gets offended." Jim shoved Dent back, knocking him down next to the edge.

"No, bibeh. I'm sorry." Dent muttered weakly.

"Nah, Dent. Not yet, anyways! Let's change that." Jim stepped forward. As Dent stood up again, Jim grabbed his shirt collar. "Kink. Kank. Konk." He shoved Dent off, and the former Kinkmeister fell in defeat.


Dent startled himself awake.

"BAYBAYS! BAYBAYS! Bibeh.. BIBEH!" Dent flung his arms around wildly as he noticed Walker kneeling toward him. The doctor was there too, and the other officer Walker had kidnapped. They were all four in the back of the Kinkmobile. "Walka bibeh..."

"Dent! Relax." Walker gasped. "I knew you'd make it."

"What happened bibeh... I need help! I NEED KINK!" Dent cried out, but he suddenly felt dizzy and fell back again.

"Don't worry, I know what to do." The Doctor said as Dent fell back unconscious.


"Walka baybeh, you know what to do!" Dent heard himself speak. Suddenly, he found himself climbing up the cliff edge.

"You can do this, Dent. If you're truly worthwhile at all, that is." Richard said.

"What is even your purpose, Dent?" Par asked. Dent could see neither of them, but he heard them speak as he made the climb. One rock at a time, each sending him different messages in his head.

"I bring kink and happiness to those without it." Dent assured himself.

"But you've only seemed to bring destruction to us, and you laugh and watch when the real shit goes down." Richard commented.

"The cheesemonger, Bill, and the other kanks have brought us misfortune, bibay. Not I." Dent replied.

"But we all know you're the cause of it. Huergh hueh!" Boog chirped.

"It ain't my fault bibeh, and you know that. It's out of my control." Dent responded.

"Then get off the sidelines and do something about it!" Richard shouted. "If you're so kinky, why don't you do anything!?"

"Bibeh, I've helped out plenty." Dent said.

"No, you haven't! Walker pleaded. "Please, Dent. Become your old self again. No, become better. Become more than the kinkmeister."

"You've hidden behind this persona for so long that you've lost yourself." Richard elaborated. "And now you look like a bloody fool. We may be some random people you picked up in the desert, but we've survived together now. That's more than enough of a reason for you to stick around and help us fight the forces of evil that seem to love tormenting us. You're the Kinkmeister, dammit! Fight back!"

"KIIIIIINK!" Dent yelled in anger, speeding up his climbing and eventually reaching the top. "NO MORE KANK BAYBAYS! I'M DONE BEIN' FREAKED OUT!"

"Oh look, you survived!" Jim squeaked. "Like me."

"Nuh-uh, baybitchbay. You're dead, bibeh. Go back." Dent retaliated.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, Dent. You and me are best pals, right?" Jim giggled again.

"Not anymore, bibeh. You betrayed me." Dent spat.

"If my betrayal devastated you so much, then you must have really liked me! Haha!" Jim and the women laughed.

"No more, bitchkank. I'm done listening to your fackies." Dent muttered.

"You seem to be forgettin' something, bud! I'm the kinkmeister! You're nothing now, Dent." Jim smiled.

"If so, then there's only one thing left to say." Dent stepped toward. "Long live the Kink." Dent lunged forward and grabbed Jim, ripping him away from his women and twirling him around to tackle him off of the edge.

Chapter 29: Rematch Edit

The hour was 8:48 PM. The stolen police car drove steadily through the town which the group still inhabited. Par was driving, Boog was riding in the passenger seat, and Bill and Richard were in the back.

"I suppose I should invest in a gas mask." Richard remarked. holding his wrist over his nose. Bill, who was still wearing his coat around his waist like a dress, did not respond to this comment.

"Just focus on getting us to Cher. How close are we now?" Par asked, casually swerving the car aside to dodge a deer which was running through the road.

"Only about two and a half miles now." Richard replied. Suddenly, Boogie started pressing buttons on the car's stereo. After managing to locate nothing but country stations, Boog finally stopped changing it when some hip hop music started playing.

"Huerh." Boogie gobbled.

"Well, that garbage is awful." Richard scoffed. "Almost as disgusting as Bill's smell."

"Yes, that melody does indeed suck. Play something else up there!" Bill said.

"Shut the fuack up, Bill!" Boog shouted.

"I am Kahmunrah, and I have surpassed death. Your threats mean nothing to me, fat man." Bill replied.

"Bill..." Boog started. "You're not Kahmunrah. Do you even know who he was?"

"If you question me again, I shall stench you right now." Bill stiffened.

"Gold, do you know who he is?" Boog grinned.

"Wot?" Richard asked, not paying attention.

"Do you even know who Kahmunrah is?" Boog slurped. Richard sighed and paused. "Huergh! You don't know who he is!"

"He's the guy who's gonna fuck your butt!" Richard smiled and Bill gasped.

"I'd rather make stink with Cher the cat-lover than touch you, Mr. Mango." Bill replied.

"Will you all just shut up already?" Par groaned. Suddenly, Bill's head jerked toward the window.

"Hauooooh!" Bill gasped and drooled over whatever he saw. Before anyone could react, he unlocked his car door and jumped out of the vehicle. He probably received a small injury, but his cats most likely took more damage than he did.

"Dammit Bill!" Par turned the car around. Bill stood up and began walking toward what he saw - a pet shop. It was in a small group of stores which included a pizza shop, a shoe store, and an Asian restaurant. The store had already closed, but the pet shop was still open, as a few of its lights were still on. Suddenly, a man exited the front door and began locking it.

"Stoooop!" Bill held his hand dramatically and walked toward the store. "Right there, please, Mr. store owner."

"Sorry man, we're just closing." The man said.

"Well." Bill smirked. "Well, well, well, you certainly know how to ruin the mood."

"I'm sorry, sir, uh, my name's Peter." The store owner said. "It's just that we've had a really long day. What's your name?"

"I am Kahmunrah, great stench of the great stink, and I require your birds." Bill stated.

"Wait, you want to make a purchase?" Peter asked.

"I made it clear to you that I wanted to enter... shouldn't that imply that I want to make a purchase?" Bill asked.

"Well, to be fair, most people just come in and stare at the animals, and just... squeak, like little girls, y'know?" Peter replied. "Well, if you know what you want, I'll let you take a look for a few minutes. But no lolly-gagging."

"A-verah well." Bill replied. Peter unlocked the door and allowed Bill to enter. The store wasn't anything impressive, but it had room for cats, birds, fish, dogs, and even a few toads. The general color scheme was tan, and the interior seemed several decades old. The place smelled of mold and animal feces... perfect for Bill. There were two other employees present: one rather overweight man who was moving the pets around, and one skinny man with long hair and a face full of pimples who was sweeping.

"Why is he in a pet store?" Richard asked, still in the car.

"Who knows." Par replied. "He is Bill, after all."

"Well, of course, but he already has like five cats." Richard remarked.

"Guess his pussies weren't enough... gobble gobble gop." Boogie grumbled.

"Should we go in there?" Par asked.

"No, let's see what happens first." Richard said. "Something tells me he'll be just fine."

"You said you wanted a bird?" Peter asked. "They're right over here." Bill was directed to the bird section, which he saw faintly from the window earlier. "Anything particular you're looking for?"

Bill stopped in his tracks when he saw a large birdcage containing four blue-footed birds. "At last... I have located my boobies."

"Excuse me?" Peter asked.

"Yes..." Bill eyed the birds, examining them thoroughly and sticking his fingers in the cage. "These will do nicely."

"Great! These all you want?" Peter asked.

"These boobies are not common in this region... how did you acquire them?" Bill asked. "Are you a booby smuggler!?"

"Wait, what?" Peter was confused. Suddenly, Bill grabbed the birdcage and held in his hand. He approached Peter.

"You'd better hope, for your own sake, here, that you have the key to unlock this birdcage." Bill said.

"Well, of course." Peter frowned. "How could I sell you birds without the key?"

"You will not be selling me birds." Bill declared. "I will be taking these birds."

"Uh, I'm sorry, sir, but you're gonna have to pay me for these birds. I can't just give them away." Peter forced a laugh.

"Acquire the key, Mr. Peter." Bill grew stiff, and he suddenly grabbed a small toad from within a cage and held it in his hand, squishing it slightly.

"Look, just pay me half price and I'll give you the birds." Peter replied.

"Oh, no no no, first give me the key and hand over the control of these birds." Bill replied.

"I'll give you the birds and the key if you pay for the pets and release the frog." Peter pouted.

"I shall release what I want to release... the moment I want to release it." Bill spat.

"Great, and I'll release what I wanna release at the exact moment that I wanna release it, okay?" Peter replied.

"Tell me where the key is and give me these birds right now or I shall stench all of your friends, starting with your shaggy-headed little janitor here." Bill declared, and the man sweeping looked up in horror. One of his pimples popped as he scrunched his face awkwardly.

"I ain't shaggy-headed!" The janitor said. "Peter, let me take this guy!"

"Don't worry, I got this handled." Peter responded. "You don't wanna give me my toad? Then you're not gonna get your key or your birds."

"Alright, I'll tell you what, alright, they didn't call me Kahmunrah the trustworthy for nothing." Bill held his arm forward and offered the frog to Peter, but he then swooped his hand back and kept it. "They DIDN'T call me Kahmunrah the trustworthy, they called me Kahmunrah the stinky who stenched anyone who doesn't give Kahmunrah exactly what he wants, in the moment that he wants it! Which is right now, when I had also better get the key, and the birds!"

"That's what they called you?" Peter asked.

"It was shorter in Egyptian." Bill nodded.

"Great, well, I'll give you the key when you pay for the birds and give me my toad." Peter reached forward and attempted to grab the birdcage.

"How dare you?" Bill jerked. "If you touch that again, I shall stench you right now. Do not touch this; this is a no touching zone!"

"Good, g-" Peter reached forward and grabbed the cage again.

"Oh my stink!" Bill freaked out, pulling the birdcage away again. I CAN'T BELIEVE... you reached across like that. I can't even believe it! Oh stink, I want to stench you right now, if you didn't know where that key was, you would be so stenched right now, it would be unbelievable."

"Great, but I do know where the key is." Peter smirked.

"DON'T. CROSS. THIS. LINE. With your hand." Bill demanded. Peter began to talk, but... "How dare you? If you speak agai- IF YOU SPEAK AGAIN, I'm going to stench you. Do you understand? DON'T SAY IT! Oh stink, I see you getting ready... OH MY STINK! Don't say anything. I shall stench you if you talk again. Now give me... that key, and my birds."

"Okay, after you give me the money and release my frog." Peter grabbed the birdcage again. Bill panicked and exhaled.

"YOU DID ALL THREE! You spoke, and you reached your hand across..." Bill said.

"Look, I can talk to you about this all night, but..." Peter began,

"Okay, how 'bout this, how bout I DON'T stench you right now, like I really, really want to, and I give you precisely five seconds to give me that key and give me my birds." Bill demanded.

"Dude, here's the key. Just take it" The fat employee tossed Bill the key. The all-powerful stinker dropped the toad and caught it. "I've already dealt with enough shit today... just take your birds and leave us alone."

"Wise decision, fat man." Bill replied. He checked to make sure the key worked, and then he casually walked out of the store, ringing the bell again.

"I told you I had this handled." Peter addressed the fat man.

"Apparently not." The fat man replied. Bill returned to the car with his birds in hand.

"Okay, I'm not sitting with that." Richard exited the vehicle. He pulled Boogie's door open. "Get out."

"Uh... Gawld... no." Boogie retaliated, but Richard grabbed his fork.

"You want it in the nipple again?" Richard threatened.

"No..." Boog frowned and wobbled out of the passenger's seat. He crawled in the back, and Bill soon returned to the back seat next to him.

"I have acquired my boobies. Let's go." Bill commented.

"What..." Par squinted at Bill's words.

"Just don't question it." Richard rolled his eyes. "Let's keep moving."

"We're going to need time to devise a plan." Par commented, driving closer to Cher's location. "We also need rest, and you know I don't work well in the sunlight."

"Well, you're going to have to make an exception." Richard replied. "I don't want to wait another night and give her the chance to recuperate. We attack tomorrow."


The hour was 10:19 AM. The group's stolen police car was parked behind a small house that was for sale. Bill was just waking up, but Par, Boog, and Richard had been awake for a while.

"Bill's awake." Par stated.

"He's awaaake." Boog slurped.

"Bill, your part is simple." Par addressed the supposed sewer-dweller. "Stand near the street and watch the house. If Cher tries to escape from the front, be ready to ambush her."

"If she tries to make it past me, she will soon learn the true power of my stench." Bill still spoke in his Kahmunrah voice.

"Hey look, he went to sleep and he's still the same." Richard remarked.

"No time for that now." Par said. "I'll be watching from the window. When Boogie makes his move, Richard will wait for my signal and then enter from the front and locate the cheese. Boog, you know what to do."

"Okai!" Boogie quacked.

"Richard, she's still in there?" Par asked. Richard checked his device.

"Well, the bullet is. Probably thrown in the trash by now. Looks like someone's in there, though." Richard replied. Par nodded and the four of them exited their vehicle. Richard and Par donned their hats and glasses, Bill sported his yellow Wolverine shirt and his coat dress, and he even wore an ash tray as a helmet. Boog wore the same filthy jacket and baggy pants. Richard and Par crossed the street to the left of the abandoned house, and Bill and Boogie took the path to the right.

Inside the house, Cher and three other women were present. They were scattered around a kitchen table eating peppers and drinking Dr. Pepper. All of them were giggling and telling stories. The house was fairly new, and it had a very simple look to it. No signs of any severed dicks were present, and the smell of pizza covered the kitchen area. Suddenly, there was a knocking at the back door and the sound of a jiggling doorknob.

"One sec." Cher squinted one eyebrow. "Somebody's at the back door..."

"Your true love awaits!" One woman laughed. Cher walked through another room and then made her way to the back door. She opened it, only find Boogie standing in the doorway with a pie in hand.

"Hey!" Boogie quacked. Cher's face went from a smile to a blank expression of death. "I brought you a pie. Huerh."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Cher asked, lowering her voice.

"Just wanted to... ya'know, be nice! I'm actually a gentleman. That's why I brought you a pie. Huergh." Boogie burped. Meanwhile, Par gave the signal and Richard quietly entered through the front door. He jerked to a halt when he almost stepped in the sight of the giggling women. Once they looked away, he walked through another room.

"Confoodlers." Richard muttered to himself.

"Well, it's probably best to eat a pie alone... y'know? Don't want anybody to take any..." Boogie gobbled. Cher sighed and shut the door on him, then proceeded to head into the kitchen. Seeing this, Richard immediately ducked aside and leaped into a large pile of dirty clothes in the laundry room.

"Well fine." Boogie shrugged and began opening the container of food. "If she doesn't want it... I guess I do! HUERGH." The consumer of all things began munching.

"Hey, sorry, but something came up. Gonna need the house to myself for a bit." Cher stated, returning to the kitchen.

"Ohhh, so it IS him!" One of the women squeaked.

"Shut up." Cher scoffed as the three ladies shuffled out of the home. She covertly acquire a knife from the kitchen. Just as Richard was about to make his move, Cher entered the laundry room. She grabbed a small wash cloth and covered her knife with it, and then returned to the back door. She opened it to find Boog still there, his face covered in pie.

"Huergh. Welcome back!" Boog slurped.

"Really?" Cher rolled her eyes.

"Wuat?" Boog asked between two bites. Suddenly, Cher dragged him into the house and pinned him against a table. She held the knife to his throat.

"Are you alone?" Cher asked. As this happened, Richard took the chance to move now that Cher was distracted.

"Yeah." Boogie gobbled. Cher sensed the lie, so she kneed him in the stomach.

"You sure about that?" She asked as Richard grew closer, trying to make his way past Cher to her bedroom area.

"No..." Boogie looked down. Cher then violently jabbed the hilt of the knife into Boog's face, then punched him in the stomach. The Boogie Baby fell to the ground with a burp. Cher turned around and walked toward the front of the house, causing Richard to bolt to the side and hide in a water heater room.

"Dammit Boog." Richard muttered to himself. Seeing what was happening, Par headed for the front door as well. Ricahrd then exited the closet-like water heater room and sneaked into Cher's room. The bed wasn't made at all, and the blankets were scattered about, some of them hanging off onto the floor. The night stand had several types of medicines and two different glasses of water on it, the tv was blaring loudly as commercials advertised their products, and the bathroom connected to the bedroom still had its lights on. The closet was open and was a complete mess, while various pieces of clothing were scattered on the carpet floor, which clearly hadn't been cleaned in some time. On a desk nearby were several advanced mathematical equations in handwriting.

Meanwhile, Cher heard a knock on the door and approached it slowly, her knife in hand. She opened it to find Par.

"Hey!" Par greeted her casually with extra abnormal niceness. His hat and glasses were gone, and his hair was rearranged to look more... "normal." Cher hid her knife in the cloth. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but I'm in an unfortunate predicament. I seem to have lost my baby... have you seen him?"

"A baby?" Cher squinted her eyes.

"Yeah, I dislocated him and he was somewhere around here. Can you help me?" Par asked.

"Sorry, nope." Cher shrugged and began shutting the door, but Par insisted.

"Are you sure? He seemed really interested in your house." Par and Cher's eyes met, and then Par's glanced downward to notice Cher going for her knife. He grabbed it instead, but Cher swatted it away. Before Cher could react, Par suddenly lunged forward and force-hugged her. "HI!"

Richard made his way through the bedroom until he located the bag of dicks.

"Who even does this..." Richard gagged as he opened the bag, only to find that there was no sign of the cheese. "Damn." He entered the bathroom and looked around. He found nothing, but there was another door in the bathroom that seemed out of place. He tried to open it, but, of course, it was locked.

Meanwhile, Par and Cher's skirmish made its way onto her porch as Cher shoved Par out there, but he was still holding onto her. They exchanged looks.

"I really don't have time for this." Cher grunted.

"Too bad, cause I do." Par attempted to throw her down, but she dodged his attack and then threw him onto a small table, which she then flipped over, sending Par off of the porch and into a small garden area as he yelled "OOOOOOO!" mid-air.

"Well, here goes nothing." Richard shot the door open, hoping that Cher was preoccupied. He pressed a light switch and found several containers of bodyparts, one of which was labeled "fapping hands." However, there was still no sign of the cheese. "What the hell? I don't even know anymore..."

Cher heard the shot and ran for her car, but she jerked to a halt when Bill appeared straight in front of her in the street.

"You again?" Cher scoffed.

"Yes, Miss Bitch. Me... again." Bill grinned.

"Ignoring the fact that you should have bled out a long time ago, haven't you learned your lesson?" Cher asked.

"I am Kahmunrah, great stench of the great stinks. Indeed, you did defeat me, but now, I have come back... to life!" Bill stated.

"Look, bitch, I really can't do this shit right now." Cher sighed.

"Too bad." Bill shook his head. "Because now begins the reign of Kahmunrah." Bill unlocked the birdcage and set it on the ground. "Rise, my army!" He opened the cage and the four blue-footed boobies started waddling out of it in a straight row. Bill began humming a demonic, evil tune "HA HA, HA-HA-HA! -- HA HA, HA-HA-HA! -- HA HA, HA-HA-HA!"

"What the hell?" Cher scrunched her nose.

"Mine are bigger." Bill grinned.


"MY BOOBIES... ARE LEGION!" Bill declared. "Now, attack her!" This did nothing. "Go on! CAW! CAW!" The birds flew toward Cher.

Meanwhile, Richard continued studying his surroundings when a beeping occurred.

"Well, that can't be good." Richard backed up.

"INVADER DETECTED." an automated voice echoed. Suddenly, a metallic object rose out of a compartment in the bathtub. Several small robots with evil-looking narrowed eyes emerged from the tub.

"Fack." Richard growled. He exited the bathroom and shut the door. Unfortunately, the robots pushed straight through it. He ran through the bedroom and shut that door as well, acquiring his pistol. As the robots began clawing through that as well, Richard began shooting and fleeing. "Bloody sausages!"

Meanwhile, Bill's birds attacked Cher, but that wasn't enough. "HA! HA!" Bill ordered as he flung his hand out dramatically. Suddenly, his cats detached from him and ran at Cher.

"Fucking hell! Stop." Cher was overwhelmed by the pets. Par recovered and walked back onto the porch, but Richard then came running out of the house.

"Sausages incoming!" Richard ran down the steps and the robots soon emerged out of the house.

"Did you get the cheese?" Par asked.

"No!" Richard shouted. "Run!"

"You've gotta be kidding me." Cher saw what was happening. As the robots descended upon them, Bill reacted.

"Attack them! Go, my legion of boobies!" Bill ordered, and his birds immediately flew toward the robots.

"Wait! Not now, ye damned doodle!" Richard, however, was right in the way. He ducked aside, barely dodging the onslaught of boobies. The birds fought with the robots and Bill soon sent his cats to aid them. Cher took this moment to try and escape through the street, but Bill had other plans.

"Come forth, my army from the underworld..." Bill said dramatically. Suddenly, various sorts of bugs began rising from the dirt and making their way to Cher. Everything from ants to wasps attacked her out of nowhere.

"Fuck!" Cher shouted, followed by several high-pitched screams of terror. Bill laughed.

"Hahaha... you are no match for the influence of the stink, Miss Bitch." Bill taunted. Cher swatted away some bugs, but they kept coming. Richard was taking cover and getting a few shots in on the robots, while Par was ducking in a corner.

"What the hell..." Cher lunged at Bill in a desperate attack, pinning him down and sticking a beetle in his nose.

"Whuah! How DARE you!?" Bill spazzed. "My pets! Defend me!" Bill ordered as Cher continued to beat up on him. His cats and birds lunged at Cher, and she wrestled with them while still on top of Bill. Then, Boogie came quacking out of the house.

"HEY GUYS! I FOUND THE CHEESE!" Boogie declared, stomping over Cher's robots and into the street.

"Where the hell did you find it?" Richard asked.

"In the fridge." Boogie gulped. "She had all sorts of goodies in there! Gobble gobble gop." Boog held out the cheese in victory. Then, everything started happening slowly. Richard fell down and grabbed his head, while Par simply fainted. Bill lost consciousness, but Cher didn't notice, as she was still fighting off his animals. Richard soon passed out as well, and Boogie started leaning to his left. "I don't feel so good..." Boogie fell down and let out another massive burp. Then, before anyone could react, all five of them vanished. Even Bill's pets disappeared. All that was left was Bill's ash tray helmet, which was knocked off of him during the conflict.

Chapter 30: The Trail Edit

The hour was 8:56 PM. The streets in the town were quiet and the night was in peace. The purple-shirted man casually walked across sidewalks, examining tire marks on the road and resting his hands in the pockets of a black jacket, which he was now wearing. He found himself at Beautiful Blonde's Exotic Establishment, or "Blondie's Clinic," as it was officially called. He crossed his arms and examined the front of the building, and he then inhaled deeply before heading for the door. Before he could enter, however, he heard a car arriving at the establishment. After a burst of purple energy appeared in his place, the man was behind a corner. He examined the car, whose occupants didn't seem hurried at all.

Out of the car stepped a rather old-looking man with a large wooden walking stick. He walked slowly toward the front door, then turned his head to the right and looked at the purple-shirted man, who was creeping from around the corner.

"Good day sir." The old man said, and the purple-shirted man simply nodded in response, still confused at how he was detected. The old man entered the store and greeted Blonde. "Good evening, ma'am."

"What is it?" Blonde asked.

"Well, that's no way to treat a poor old man." The old man replied.

"Whoops, I'm sorry." Blonde sighed. "What is it, poor old man?"

"Do you have a chicken pot pie?" The old man asked.

"What?" Blonde raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"Do you currently have a chicken... pot... pie... in your possession?" The old man asked.

"Uh, no. I don't like those." Blonde scoffed.

"Hahaha... everyone says that. Nobody says they like it... but you can always tell when someone really does." The old man grinned.

"Whatever that means, is that all you wanted?" Blonde asked.

"No." The old man replied. "My daughter is ill. She's passed out in the car. I cannot carry her here."

"Sounds pretty urgent. Why the hell did you ask about chicken pot pies then?" Blonde questioned.

"They are her favorite." The old man paced. "I thought she might wake at the smell of them. Anyhow, can you please fetch her? I need to your restroom."

"Sure." Blonde reluctantly headed out of the building, and the old man immediately made his way to the hidden section of Blonde's building. He examined his surroundings and then hit his staff on the ground.

"Ahhh." The old man exhaled. "Just as I suspected: chicken pot pies." Suddenly, Blonde appeared in the room as well. "Ah, teleportation. Child's play."

"Nobody was in the car, bitch baby." Blonde gave the old man the death stare.

"Indeed. No one was in the car." The old man said casually before raising his staff. "I don't like your attitude, woman. How unfortunate that you have failed to impress dairy. Now, you will die. Good day, woman!" The old man from the shack launched a large orb of energy at Blonde, but the gypsy woman was unaffected as a force field in front of her absorbed the attack. Suddenly, she flung her arms out and began casting energy of her own. She wore two rings on each hand, and they each glowed different colors.

"Get out. Last chance." Blonde warned.

"Nigh." The old man replied. "You cannot defeat me. I have decades of experience in wizardry." The old man shot two more attacks, both of which Blonde also deflected. The two of them engaged in a violent contest of magic, both of them shattering nearby objects with their curses. Eventually, they locked in a constant string of energy.

"You think you can just come in here and get rid of me, bitch?" Blonde asked, morphing her witchcraft into flames and lightning bolts.

"Yes." The old man replied and his own spell grew in intensity. The room was being destroyed as the two of them produced deadly curses. Suddenly, the sheriff and several armed cops entered the room.

"Mafians!" The sheriff quacked. "Disarm that buttfella!" Shots were fired at the old man's staff, removing it from his grip and allowing Blonde's attack to strike him and throw him back. "Apprehend that sauceress!" The policemen pointed their weapons at Blonde, but she then vanished from the scene.

"Sir, she's gone!" An officer said.

"No shit." The sheriff sniffled. "No matter, we got the other one-" the sheriff saw the old man. "Well, I'll be damned. Put cuffs on this mafian, investigator. Inform Arnold that we're gonna have a long night at headquarters."

"Right away, sir." Investigator Kearse replied.

"I won't speak to you, fools." The old man spat.

"Well, buttfungus, we'll see about that. Heh heh heh." The sheriff personally dragged the old man through the store and outside to the police car. "Good day, sir!" The sheriff threw the old man from the shack into the car and made his way to the driver's seat. "Folks, clean up this questionable establishment and then make your way back to headquarters. I need to make a phone call."

As several police cars exited the area, the purple-shirted man sneaked off quietly.


One day ago...

Dent awoke at the bottom of the cliff edge. He should have been dead, along with Jim Logan, but he somehow survived the fall.

"Guess I really am too pimp for pain." Dent muttered as he stood up. Flames were all around him and the skeletal wreckage of the Kinkmobile had taken down several trees in its fall. It now sat plastered against a rock, its door hanging off and its wiring plunging out of its top. "My beautiful kinkmobile..."

"I believe it's mine now, Dent." Said Jim Logan, who was standing in the flames. Dent's women were still attached to him, and he grabbed their rear ends randomly.

"How many times do I have to kill you, baybitchbay!?" Dent growled.

"Enough to purge me from your mind... and that's clearly not happening." Jim grinned.

"Baybeh, just stahp. I'm not afraid of you anymore." Dent declared.

"Why would you be afraid, Dent? All I do is hug people! You killed an innocent little man." Jim frowned.

"You stole my kinkmobile... you caused kank all around. I already explained this to you, fackwagon!" Dent spat.

"You and I are pretty close to being the same, when you think about it, though, Dent." Jim inched closer. "We both looove people... but we both rip people off! It's great, they love to virtual huggggg."

"Get out of my mind, baybitchbay. This isn't real." Dent scrunched his face.

"Oh, but it's still very real!" Jim shrugged. "You can see me clearly, huh? You hear me, huh? You FEEL my presence, Dent!"

"Still not real, cunt-kitty." Dent replied.

"It's real inside your head, Dent!" Jim squeaked. "There is clearly no manner of logic in this realm... but you aren't a logic guy, are ya? Nahhh... you're a kinky guy. But, without kink, you're nothin! That's sad." Jim frowned.

"The only thing sad is you, baybitchbay. You're a pathetic weasel with no kink." Dent responded. "I'm probably the only baybay to remember you... so, without my kink, you're nothin'!"

"Oh, but that's not quite right, Dent!" Jim replied. "Keira remembers me... mmmm, she loved to virtual huggg! And you killed her one true love... you killed one of your best baybays. Ever think that maybe it's not me you're fighting, but yourself? Your own guilt... your own rage... your own feeling of helplessness, despite aaalllll of your kiiink?" Jim squiggled. Dent just looked down in horror and frustration. He couldn't think properly. Every time he tried to narrow his vision to make something out, his head would start pounding. His lifeless leg was holding him back as if he were stuck in quicksand, and he had no control.

"Just stahp." was all that Dent could mutter.

"Nahhh." Jim slurred. "How could you do it? How could you toss me from that cliff like a savage? You KILLED me in a defenseless state! That's a disgrace to the kink."

"You don't even talk like this, baybitchbay!" Dent growled.

"Of course not! But, remember, I'm part of your mind now... I'm not goin' anywhere, and I can talk however I like now!" Jim grinned.

"No, baybeh. It's time for you to go! Get out." Dent spat.

"Nuh uh uh, Deeent!" Jim squeaked again. He started speaking more slowly as he walked up to Dent and looked him in the eyes. "Ironically enough, I have more control than you do now! How does it feel to be beneath me, the guy you killed? Doesn't make much sense, does it? Just like you killing me didn't make much sense. Y'know, it all comes back to that guuuiiiilt. Mmmmmm, that guilt of yours. You try so hard to please people... to appease that guilt, Dent. Is that what it is? Every good deed you do for someone, every person you make happy, is a step closer to overcoming that feeling that you really don't have a purpose. This little group you've adopted... you care for them more than you realize. For the first time in forever, you've been able to take care of people... and yet, you've failed them. You've failed... everyone. Even your baybays."

"You pretended to be loyal. You failed me, baybitchbay." Dent said, stumbling around trying to avoid Jim. His composure was lacking and his mental stability fading.

"And after which betrayal did you toss me from a cliff?" Jim asked. "No remorse, no niceness, no forgiveness, no second chance....... no kink." Jim frowned.

"I told you I was sorry, babeh. What more can I do?" Dent asked.

"I dunno, Dent... your kink is forfeit, and so is your life! You've abandoned the principles you swore to follow. You've become... kank." Jim smiled.

"If so, then there's nothin' more to say, Jim. But, you forget, this is my kinky dream." Dent swooshed his hand to the side. "DESPERATE TIMES, BAYBAAAH! DESPERATE TIMES!" Suddenly, a chainsaw appeared in Dent's hands. "KIIIIIINK!" Dent charged at Jim, all of his frustration and anger releasing itself in one final attack. Just as he plunged the soaring blade into Jim's torso to splatter his innards everywhere, Dent woke up to the peaceful sound of his music playing in the Kinkmobile.

The hour was 10:15 AM. The sun shined a simple light across the area. The Kinkmobile was parked near a handful of restaurants and stores.

"Dent!" Walker rushed to the Kinkmobile, which was open from the back. The doctor stood nearby as well, but the other policeman was still restrained.

"Kink?" Dent studied his surroundings. He noticed the sunlight and immediately tried to get up, but he found that his body had not fully recovered. "Ahhhh, kink."

"I told you he'd wake up!" The doctor added. "Trust me, I'm a doctor."

"Thank ya, baybah." Dent addressed the doctor. "Remind me to reward ya later for your assistance to the kink..."

"I require no compensation, sir." The doctor replied.

"I had to make him work on you. Don't be fooled by his honest attitude." Walker commented.

"I must say, I don't normally work for fugitives from justice." The doctor said.

"I've done nothin' of kank, baybay. Except..." Dent froze. "Well, I've committed some kanks... but nothin' you should be too worried about baybaeeeh." Dent slid out of the Kinkmobile.

"Sir, you should remain seated!" The doctor suggested.

"Nao nao nao, beyboy... I'm too pimp for pain." With that, Dent stood and walked out of the shade of the Kinkmobile's back door. "MMMMMM...... the sun is kink kank konky today." Dent threw his arms out and stared into the sky. "KIIIIIINK!"

"I'm glad to see he's back to normal." Walker managed a small grin. "Thank you for your services, kind man."

"I'm only a doctor." The doctor said.

"But I'm afraid I'm going to have to restrain you again." Walker began tying the doctor up once more. Suddenly, Dent gasped.

"My baybays! Where are they!?" Dent panicked. "BAYKINKBAAAAYS!"

"Don't worry, Dent, they're right here." Walker reached into his bag and two sets of hands grabbed onto him as he procured both of Dent's women from the bag.

"Finally." One of them muttered. Walker's eyes widened.

"Uh... are they supposed to talk, Dent?" Walker asked.

"Not unless I say so, bibeh, but they're been separated from their kinkmeister for too long." Dent approached the women and they promptly attached to his arms again. Walker squinted at this. Despite having known Dent for years, he never knew how or where he acquired these two women who always followed him around. There was simply a 5-month period during which Walker never heard from him, and then, after that, he returned with the women and the upgraded Kinkmobile. The two women were always a mystery to Walker, and, in fact, this was the first time he'd ever heard one of them talk. True, this was also the longest that Dent had ever been separated from them, though.

"A fascinating mental bond." said the Doctor, who was now tied up next to the other officer.

Walker tried not to dwell on the women too much. He'd known them for years, even though he'd never spoken to them. He was just glad that things were finally starting to seem normal again. Ever since they picked up Boogie, things started going downhill.

"What happened to the others, bibey?" Dent asked. Walker instantly felt a pain in his stomach.

"I don't know. I just don't know." Walker turned away.

"Walka bayboy. I ain't fallin' for any of that kink. Spit it out." Dent grew stiff.

"They fell behind." Walker muttered. "We're better off."

"Walka baybeh, I need deeetaaailz." Dent persisted.

"I'm tired of this!" Walker turned back to face Dent. "The insanity and misfortune brought upon us by those lunatics has gone on long enough! Aren't you exhausted from all of the shit that we've endured!? Boogie is an obnoxious asshole. Richard kills people! Bill nearly killed you!"

"Desperate times require immediate reactions, and immediate reactions are sometimes irrational actions, baybeh." Dent replied. "You know this quite well yourself."

"Yes, I do." Walker stomped toward Dent. "And I had to react immediately when Bill stinked you! That was not tolerable behavior. Richard was knocked out. I don't even know about that Par guy... he seems pretty smart, but I just don't know. I didn't know what to do. I still stand by my decision, though."

"What will those kinkylicious baybahs do without us, though?" Dent asked. "Bheely beyboy may have his moments of kank, but I'm sure there's a reason. It's our job to sort this stuff out. We can't just abandon beybeys because it isn't convenient."

"That may be your stance, Dent, but I cannot see things that way. The shenanigans had to cease. We were going to die!" Walker replied.

"I don't expect you to understand the greater view of the kink, bibey, but you always gotta think of other kinkies." Dent stated. "We're gonna relocate those baybays, whether you like it or not, Walka baybey."

"They could be anywhere by now, Dent." Walker let out a heavy sigh. "We can't and we won't find them. Leaving them behind was my final decision. I won't be driving the Kinkmobile in their direction."

Dent frowned and looked aside. He gazed into the distance. "I've failed the kink, Walka."

"Dowut?" Walker was confused.

"I gotta take care of 'em. When we picked them up, we made them our responsibility." Dent muttered.

"No. They can take care of themselves." Walker replied. "You just can't let people go."

"That's right, beybeh. I never let people go. People let me go." Dent said, and his women frowned dramatically.

"I'm not letting you go, Dent." Walker responded. "I isolated us from those people because our lives took a turn for the worst when we met them. We'll find other companions."

"Nao, beyboy. As kanky as some of them can be, I cannot abandon my customers. Especially after we went through so much kank with these beybeys." Dent declared. "The kink always... finds... a....... way, beybeeeey...." Dent slurred his words as he began leaning over dizzily.

"I told you he shouldn't be standing!" The doctor commented.

"I don't feel great, either." Walker squinted his eyes. "Dent, what's going on?"

"I dunno, beybieeeh....." Dent passed out. Walker soon fainted as well.

"Bloody hell." The doctor commented. "Josh, get us out of these bonds!"


Present day. The hour was 8:28 AM. The purple-shirted man arrived at the pet shop.

"Something smells funny." The man headed for the store. He attempted to enter, but found that the door was locked. The sign read "Open 10 to 9"

"How disappointing." The man stared at the door. "No matter..." he held his hand out. "Metal lock." Suddenly, the door unlocked and opened automatically. The man walked in with a satisfied look on his face, however, immediately upon entering, he gasped and then flung his arm against his nose.

"What a disgusting odor." He gagged, then walked through the store. He examined the many birds, cats, dogs, and toads remaining in the shop. "Who would leave their creatures like this?" He asked, noticing a frog that had died. "Ugh. This must be an outpost of the stench." He then exited the store.

"The first rule of cleaning... you have to make room and clear the air." With that, the man held out both of his hands toward the store. Nothing happened at first, but he was just getting started. He closed his eyes and squinted slightly. Then, as if the very air itself received a jolt, he opened his eyes and stared down the shop. Suddenly, all of the cages, accessories, and items made of metal were thrown out of the windows, breaking the glass and sending debris flying in various directions. Then, in a violent motion, the door was ripped from the store and tossed aside. The man reentered.

"Freshener." The man summoned a spray bottle of cleaner, which was sitting in the corner of the shop, to his hand. He sprayed the bottle rapidly for about ten seconds, rotating it around him to coat the air in the scent. He then inhaled deeeply. "Ahhh, cherry pomegranate." He tightened his grip on the bottle, and, as he held onto it, a surge of energy formed inside him. Somehow, his eyes glowed purple and his hair grew even more frizzy. Without another thought, he flung his free hand toward the remaining pet cages that weren't made of metal, and a purple airborne energy began to develop on his palm and into the air. As if he were blasting the area with it, the energy launched itself in various directions depending on his hand movements. All of the glass cages which contained frogs were destroyed, and the creatures seemingly burned to nothing but residue.

"Yesssss." He inhaled the pleasing scents before throwing down the air freshener and spilling it everywhere. As if these actions made him even more powerful, he proceeded to summon and even larger cloud of power with both arms now. He threw his hands out toward the store and a massive swelling of the energy consumed everything in its path, wiping out all remaining life and neutralizing any remaining odors. The freshness cut through the cracks beneath walls and doors to cleanse any other rooms as well, and, soon enough, every inch of the pet store was covered in this fresh, fruity smell. He ceased his channeling and then dusted his hands off. "All freshened up."

The man exited the stoor with a confident expression on his face. A few people nearby gave him funny looks, but he simply kept on walking down the street.

Later, he found himself at Cher's house. He approached it, being careful not to alert anyone to his presence. Entering through the back door, he made a quick sweep of the house before finding himself out the front door and onto the porch. Two remaining robots detected him and began attacking, but the man retaliated.

"Metal robots!" The machines were promptly crushed into many small chunks. The man took a deep breath. "I'm catching up, stench." After a moment of rest, he walked down the stairs and through the front yard until he reached the street. "What is this stink..." he hesitated, breathing in and examining the air with his hands. "Smelly birds. Smelly cats."

He eventually honed in on the ash tray, which was lying on the side of the road. The man spawned an expression of confusion. "The trail ends here?" He held his hand out toward the ash tray. "Metal ash tray." He called upon the small item, which soon flew into his hand. "This ash tray doesn't smell right. It needs to be..." he tossed the ash tray down again and once again flung his hand toward it. In an lightning-like flash, more purple energy formed on his palm and launched itself at the ash tray, purging it of any bacteria, residue, or stench. "Freshened."

He summoned the object again, and, this time, he put it on his head as a trophy. Then, he removed his shirt and messed with it, turning it inside out. He put it back on, but now it was different. Now, it had a Spiderman symbol on it. Suddenly, the man started running down the street. This seemed normal enough, but eventually purple sparks started appearing at the man's shoes as he ran. More energy started forming around him, and he started gaining speed. A massive burst of light was seen straight in front of him and, suddenly, he was zipping down the road faster than any normal human could attempt, leaving a trail of purple lightning behind him.

Chapter 31: Reunion Edit

Two cheese guards patrolled through the halls of the Grand Cheese Palace. They were in the upper sections, and not far from the Cheese Council itself and the Monger's top floor.

"So, what's your name?" One guard asked.

"Joshua." The other replied. "You?"

"Norman. I'm a Swiss."

"I could tell. I'm an Asiago Cheesian." Joshua said.

"I see." Norman nodded. "Normally I work with a Queso Cheesian, but he got moved to the prison section to help contain Gravy Bones."

"Yeah, I heard about that." Joshua replied. "Very uncheesious. I don't understand why our Monger doesn't get rid of that thing."

"Don't question the Monger." Norman stated.

"Of course."

"I will admit that it is strange that Bones was kept alive, though. In the old Empire, such treachery would have resulted in incineration." Norman shrugged.

"Well, your partner would know all about that." Joshua commented.

"Oh my cheese, everyone says that, but the stereotype isn't true. Not every Queso Cheesian works in the incinerator room."

"My apolocheese." Joshua replied. There was silence for a few more moments as the two of them marched through the halls of the palace, passing by the memorial site for Cheesius, Cheesilius, and Cheesar.

"So, who's your favorite Cheese King?" Norman asked.

"I'd have to go with Cheesius. It's everyone's answer, but he was just that cheesious." Joshua said.

"Well, I actually would pick Cheesilius." Norman replied. "Have you heard Lord Crow's stories about his battle plans? It's a Cheesian miracle that we still exist after the wars. I credit that to Cheesilius."

"Good mammoth cheese indeed, but Cheesius was the one who started it all. Without him, there would be no cheese. It's an obvious choice." Joshua responded, adjusting his grip on the spear he was holding. The two of them made their way into the top floor. "I've never patrolled in the Monger's throne room before."

"Just make your way through it like it's any other room. If the Monger is there, avoid eye contact. He doesn't like to be disturbed." Norman nodded.

"A-verah well." Joshua said. They walked through the throne room to discover that the Monger was not present. Joshua slowed down a bit to admire the decorations, but Norman pulled him forward. They made their way through the hallways.

"Do you realize what would have happened if the Monger saw you slowing down?" Norman chuckled and Joshua laughed.

"He wasn't there! Haha..." Joshua stated. Suddenly, as they came into the circular dining room, they noticed eight people lying unconscious on the floor. A ninth was moving around a bit, but none of them were fully functioning. Norman turned to Joshua.

"Alert the Monger." Norman said, and Joshua scurried off.

Seven minutes and thirty three seconds later, the Monger arrived in the room followed by Lord Havarti, Maroni Macaroni, the Cheese Colonel, and several cheese guards.

"At last. They've returned." The Monger stated.

"So these are the consumers handling the future of dairy..." Lord Havarti studied the group. "May cheese be with us all."

"Sir, one of them is still awake." Norman stated.

"How?" The Monger jerked to attention. He noticed Cher, who was sitting up with a depressed look on her face. "Cheese, contain that bullswisser." Norman and Joshua approached Cher, but she retaliated when one of them tried to grab her.

"Whoa, take it easy." Cher said, shooing them away. When Norman forcefully grabbed her hand again and tried to put some restraints that seemed to be made of burnt cheese on her, she slapped his hand away again. "Seriously! What are you doing?" Then, she got a good look at Norman and noticed that his face was made of cheese. "What the hell!?" Cher tried to flee, but she tripped on Par's unconscious body

"My apolocheese, consumer." The Monger addressed her as she stood up. "It seems you were in physical contact with one of the consumers during their teleportation. It is a nasty accident which occurs. I would alter the magic, but I am only still learning it myself."

"What." Cher said blankly.

"Colonel, fetch the Buttermaster. Tell him we need one cup of the Dimitri recipe." The Monger ordered.

"Right away, sir." The Colonel headed off.

"Now, consumer, allow me to introduce myself. I am the Cheesemonger, ruler of all dairy." The Monger stated.

"Cool, and I'm Cher. Now, are you gonna help me get the hell out of here and tell me what's going on, or am I gonna have to give you a talk?"

"Like I said, I am the Cheesemonger, ruler of all dairy. You shall not disrespect such a royal individual, consumer." The Monger grew unhappy.

"You can monger all day long, bitch, but I feel like shit and I really don't wanna be here right now." Cher approached the Monger, but he suddenly extended all ten of his fingers and wrapped her in them, shoving her back and trapping her in the ropes of cheese.

"You are currently in the Grand Cheese Palace, on the highest floor, speaking to the Monger of Cheese and in the presence of two Cheese Lords. Have some cheese-damn respect." With that, the Monger flung his fingers forward even further, tossing Cher away and onto the ground. He retracted his fingers. "Trust me, there is no place you'd rather be."

"What my Monger might be trying to say, consumer, is that this is a wonderful, cheesious place. You should enjoy your stay." Maroni commented, eyeing Cher carefully. This seemed to somehow nearly convince her, as she simply didn't respond. Then, the Monger grabbed the cheese from Boogie's unconscious hand.

"Havarti." The Monger handed the Cheese Lord the small packet of cheese.

"This is all that's left?" Havarti asked worriedly.

"I'm afraid so. It should suffice for evidence." The Monger replied.

"Monger, this is the Holy Cheese." Havarti said. "When consumers consume it... the very essence of dairy is... troubled. We cannot continue at this rate."

"I'm doing what I can, Havarti." The Monger replied. "The consumers will be heading out on their next mission soon."

"No!" Shouted Lord Pepper Jack, who entered from the hallway along with Lord Monterey Jack and a few other Cheesians. He held his weapon, a long broadsword covered in powerful cheese energy that glowed fancily, and his face did not suggest happiness. "These consumers are barbaric murderers of Cheese Men! They must be executed immediately."

"They can't be allowed to continue. They just can't." Monterey Jack commented.

"These consumers are vital to the return of the Holy Cheese. Don't be molded." The Monger replied.

"Enough of this pointless quest! Forget the cheese... dairy will survive." Pepper Jack replied.

"I cannot advise that." Havarti said, moving out of the way as he sensed oncoming danger.

"I cannot advise bringing bullswissers into our home who eat, ruin, and destroy our cheese men! Not to mention that the Monger has allowed my own Cheesian and several others to be consumed by Gravy Bones!" Pepper Jack shouted.

"We lost several Cheese Guards to Bones recently, Pepper Jack. There was nothing to be done to save them." The Monger replied.

"Bullswiss!" Pepper Jack yelled. "Why was this not announced!? I found out through Captain Asiago. Very uncheesious."

"There was no need to get the Lords stirred up over something we could not fix. Bones has been properly contained now, and security has been tripled." The Monger replied. "Now, back your cheese down or else I shall be forced to send you to Lord Crow myself."

"Enough." Pepper Jack scoffed. "No more threats. I am a High Cheese Lord, and these bullswissers have committed high cheason." Pepper Jack marched forward, and Monterey followed him.

"Stand down, Pepper Jack." Maroni spoke, and Pepper Jack halted.

"Out of my way, Maroni." Pepper Jack growled. Meanwhile, The Cheese Colonel returned to the room with a hot cup of some kind of beverage in his hand. When he saw what was going on, he set it down and approached them slowly.

"Nigh. I cannot allow such an uncheesious outburst to ruin our chances of returning the Holy Cheese." Maroni replied. "Don't forget that there are ways I can make you pay for this that you don't even want to imagine."

"Oh, now Maroni's threatening me! Cheesy sauce, I say." Pepper Jack shoved Maroni aside, causing the Italian Cheesian to let out a strange noise as he was pushed away. The Monger was about to intervene, but he saw that he wouldn't have to. "Let's seen, where's the fat one?" Pepper Jack asked, hovering over the group. Suddenly, he was clubbed in the back of the head by the back Colonel's spear, sending him unconscious onto Bill's lifeless body.

"I'm innocent!" Monterey Jack declared, raising his hands as soon as he saw the Colonel's attack. The Colonel, who said nothing, simply put his weapon away and went back to grab the hot beverage. He handed it to the Monger.

"Sir." The Colonel nodded.

"Consumer!" The Monger gestured to Cher, who had simply been lazily watching all of this go down. She slowly stood up and approached the Monger. "A special formula of butter and milk. It will ease the pain of your accidental teleportation." Cher grabbed the cup and reluctantly sipped it. "Now, remove Pepper Jack from the scene, please." Two cheese guards carried Pepper Jack away. "Guards, keep these consumers contained in the teleportation room for now. I shall discuss these matters with the other Lords."

"An excellent idea, Monger." Maroni slurped. The Cheesians exited, leaving only Norman and Joshua to watch the group.

Meanwhile, in the Cheese Council, the Cheesemonger, the Cheese Colonel, Smith, and Cheese Lords Maroni, Provolone, Swiss, American, Mozzarella, Parmesan, Monterey Jack, and Queso were present.

"The bullswissers have returned!" Monterey Jack declared.

"Silence." The Monger said. "I shall explain the events."

"Where are the consumers!?" Parmesan demanded.

"The consumers are currently being held in the teleportation room, Cheese Lord Parmesan." Smith said.

"Swisser of the bulls!" Mozzarella objected. "We have already discussed this. Take them to the incinerator!"

"Enough of your violence, Mozzarella." Swiss commented. "Monger, what news is there?"

"As of now, the consumers are all intact and have been returned to us. One package of the Holy Cheese was acquired, and Havarti is on his way to examine it as we speak." The Monger stated.

"Good! We have the information we need. Now dispose of the molded fellows." Queso agreed. "My incinerator is primed and ready!"

"Indeed!" Mozzarella squawked. "Destroy the bullswissers once and for all and bring peace to Cheesia."

"Nigh." The Monger replied. "I have already explained that we need the consumers to acquire the next three shipments of the Holy Cheese."

"What I don't understand is why Cheese Lords are arguing over petty consumers when we should be discussing the Cheese Guards massacred by Gravy Bones." Provolone commented.

"That issue is done with and cannot be altered, unfortunately. What of it?" American asked.

"It is concerning that our Monger did not address this information to the council. We ended up hearing it through Maroni, and that is troublesome." Provolone remarked. "It is Cheesian tradition that casualties be formally addressed and brought up to the current sitting Council by the Monger or King. This criteria was not met, and the information was kept from us, and would have remained unknown if not for Maroni's report."

"Lord Provolone, I'm sure that the Monger was simply busy with other matters. We know now, and it is not a cheesious issue." Swiss added.

"I delivered the information to the Council as soon as I could prepare a statement, and the Monger was aware of that... weren't you, Monger?" Maroni asked.

"Indeed, Maroni." The Monger raised his eyebrow.

"As minister of communications, you can always rely on me for information that may otherwise be kept undocumented." Maroni declared.

"Sir, Lord Cheddar has just contacted me." Smith said, holding a small communicator in his hand. "There's some... troubling news, my Monger."

"What is it-ah?" The Monger asked, but, before Smith could answer, Lord Colby Jack barged in through the back entrance followed by Grilled Cheese Gordon.

"Has anyone seen the Crow Report!?" Colby Jack shouted.

"Nigh." Parmesan replied. "What is it?"

"Speak, Colby Jack." Maroni gestured. Colby Jack paused.

"I told you. I knew it." Colby Jack sighed. "The old man from the shack has been defeated. The authorities have him in custody."

"Those bullswissers!" The Monger replied before anyone else could. "Maroni, how could you allow this to happen!?"

"Indeed!" American butted in. "Maroni has connections in the authorities. What happened?"

"Gentlecheese, we all know that my connections have been extremely trimmed since our reform. Monger, you were the one who chose to send the old man. Perhaps, if you had made a different decision, things would not have turned out quite so cheesiously troublesome." Maroni deflected the accusations.

"Exactly!" Colby Jack shouted. "I told you that we needed Cheesians on foot! But no, send the moldy old man who did absolutely nothing! The sorceress has escaped, and the authorities have the old man contained! Bull with swiss!"

"Colby, I agree with you wholeheartedly, but you're putting on quite a show..." Monterey Jack attempted to comfort Colby.

"Wait a second... where is Pepper Jack!?" Colby panicked.

"Lord Pepper Jack was escorted away after he was knocked unconscious by the Cheese Colonel." Maroni stated.

"Bullswiss!" Parmesan added.

"What bullswissery is that!? Has the Monger's favorite military cheesennel gone rogue!?" Colby Jack asked, stomping and pacing around.

"I don't feel safe with someone like that running around! Incinerate him!" Grilled Cheese Gordon added.

"Gentlecheese, I assure you..." the Monger began, but he found himself interrupted.

"Silence, the lot of you!" Provolone shouted. "One issue at a time."

"At that rate, nothing will be discussed!" Queso commented.

"My Lords, I assure you, I acted with good mammoth cheese. Lord Pepper Jack made a move on the consumers and was going to harm them if I had not intervened. I had no choice." The Colonel stated.

"Good mammoth cheese." Swiss commented.

"The consumers have returned!?" Colby Jack shouted.

"Indeed, Colby Jack, and that issue is already being discussed." The Monger declared.

"Then my fellow Jack was in the right! Destroy those bullswissers! Why are they still alive?" Colby Jack asked.

"Because they are currently needed, as the Monger has said multiple times, Colby." Provolone added.

"I agree with the Jacks. Those bullswissers need to go." Parmesan commented.

"Clearly, the Monger still has a use for them. Tway with the rushed decisions and the blatant calls for incineration." Swiss replied.

"This is uncheesious." Mozzarella joined. "The Monger clearly has clouded judgment... look at what happened with the old man in the shack! We must, as a Cheesian Council, take control of the current events. Incinerate those bullswissers before they endanger dairy any further!"

"My incinerator needs to be used every once in a while to stay functional, after all." Queso said between bites of chips and cheese.

"I hate to call for violence, but something must be done about these consumers." Grilled Cheese Gordon added.

"Indeed, something's gotta be done! They can't be allowed to continue. They just can't." Monterey Jack said.

"The Monger intended for this to be a productive decision-making meeting, not an argument." Smith added. "Please calm down."

"Calm down? My fellow Jack was assaulted! The consumers are out of control! Cheese guards have been slaughtered! The old man has been captured!" Colby Jack yelled.

"You do seem like you need to calm down, Colby Jack." Swiss replied.

"Indeed, we should all take an intermission." American suggested.

"Cheese Council meetings do not have intermissions unless they last five hours or longer, American. Those are simple Cheesian standards." Provolone argued.

"Gentlecheese, we all have a right to be angry. However, we should work on solving the issues, not arguing." Maroni commented.

"I grow tired of this swiss. Monger! We have spoken! Incinerate the consumers!" Parmesan shouted.

"The Monger has made his decision, Lord Parmesan." The Cheese Colonel replied. Just as the Monger was about to intervene, the door opened.

"CHEEEEEEEEEEESE!" In came Lord Gouda carrying two giant bowls of cheese dip. "Whyyyy is everyone yelling? We are the rulers of dairy, the makers of cheese, the finest beings on this planet! Why do we all argue over such pointless things? These politics can easily be handled another tiiiime. Pleeeease, enjoy this dip I have made with..."

"NO!" Colby Jack growled. "No more cheese dip!" He stomped toward Gouda and swatted his arm at him, sending the bowls of cheese splattering on the ground and sending Gouda to the ground as well.

"Oough!" Gouda squeaked as the cheese dip was spilled all over him and the floor.

"No more noodles!" Colby Jack drew attention to Mozzarella, who was sneaking a bite of pasta. "And no more chips!" He stomped toward Queso and grabbed a chip out of the Cheese Lord's hand before he could eat it. Queso growled in response.

"Lord Colby Jack..." The Monger began.

"MARONI!" Colby Jack shouted. "You were supposed to handle this! You said you would keep things under control! This wasn't part of what we agreed on!"

"Colby Jack, please settle down. Telling lies of the trait of a bullswisser." Maroni commented.

"Lies? You're the only one who's been lying!" Colby Jack spat. "The rest of you are too idiotic to realize it. The Monger is a fool, and Maroni was supposed to fix this council, but clearly he is incapable!" Colby Jack got no responses, but rather judging glares and condemning expressions.

"Lord Colby Jack..." Gouda stood up, whimpering. "These bowls of cheese dip were made from the remains of the cheese guards slain by Gravy Bones."

"Indeed, it is our tradition to always honor our fallen guards by using their remains in our dips." Provolone nodded.

"The dip is ruined." Gouda sighed. "A terrible waste. How is this Cheesious? How is this dairy? How is this what has become of Cheesius' empire? Very sad..." Gouda frowned, and the other Cheese Lords fell silent. Lord Colby Jack growled and stomped off. The Monger exited in frustration.

Chapter 32: Assignment Edit

In the circular teleportation room filled with stools of Cheesian energy, the group was just starting wake up. Cher was pacing around, wondering what would happen if she strangled one of them during their sleep. Unfortunately, Cheese Guards kept watch. For once, Bill was the first to wake up. Somehow, as soon as he awakened, his cats and birds did as well. As he sat up, his eyes opened wide and he stared up at the ceiling for a moment. Then, he put his hands around his head and rotated it a bit, as if he were morphing himself into something else. Then, he stood up, slowly examining his surroundings. He untied his coat from his waist and put it back on, this time unbuttoning his sleeves, allowing them to droop downwards off of his arms.

"My wand..." Bill said, looking down at one of his cats. It was the hairiest of the bunch, and it leaped up onto him and bit its teeth into the Ood stick, which was still attached to Bill's belt. The feline chomped off a small piece of the stick and Bill promptly grabbed it from the cat's mouth, holding it forward in a dramatic pose.

"Wow, you really do smell like a garbage truck." Cher remarked.

"Stupid girl." Bill turned to her and gave her an offended expression. The next to awake was Boog.

"I smell food.... mmmmrgh." Boogie grumbled, rolling around and trying to get up. "Ohmahgaaaawd. This place has the best cheese." Boogie grabbed a hold of the wall and managed to hoist himself up, standing up and letting out a massive sigh. Apparently this was a lot of work for him, as he needed a moment to recover. His noises seemed to have awakened some of the others, as Richard, Par, and Dent and his women soon regained consciousness as well.

"Well, it seems as though we're finally back here." Richard remarked.

"It's about time. I'm tired of this shit." Par commented.

"Don't know if you guys have noticed, but we're kind of stuck. Jussayin." Cher complained.

"You." Richard addressed Cher. "If it isn't the queen of sausages herself... how the tables have turned."

"Ahhh yes, Miss Cher... the girl who lived... come to die." Bill declared, raising his piece of the Ood stick toward her. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" This did nothing. Bill swung his stick at Cher again, but, again, nothing happened. "This usually works."

"Consumers! Halt!" Joshua yelled, noticing the violence. He and Norman made their way into the room.

"Fine, I'll do it myself." Richard flung his wrist down, releasing his hidden pistol and pointing it toward Cher. He and Bill both stepped closer to Cher, pointing their respective weapons in her face simultaneously.

"Well, doesn't everyone just love me?" Cher remarked.

"Cease this violence!" Norman ordered as he and Joshua both pointed their spears at Richard and Bill respectively. "Drop your weapons!" Nothing happened, as the five of them froze in their positions.

"Baybeeeehs, calm doooown." Dent and his women stood up, holding their hands out toward the others. "I'm sure there's a way to reasonably resolve these kinks."

"Do ya have anymore of that cheese? Mmrgh. It was good!" Boogie added.

"Richard, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I must be the one to kill Miss Kitty." Bill declared.

"Fair enough." Richard agreed, putting away his pistol and walking away whilst giving the cheese guards an angry glare.

"Consumer!" Norman yelled, rushing Bill to act.

"Bibeh please, don't do this to yerself. We're all back in one kinkyliciously kinked up place, and this Cher baybah is incredibly kinkeh. Just put down the stick beyboy." Dent addressed the smelly Billiam.

"I do not wish to stink all of you, so I command my stench to retreat." Bill lowered his stick. "For now."

"Babeeehs, it's all nice and kinky naow. Your services are no longer required." Dent said to the Cheese Guards, who exchanged looks and, after a pause, exited the room. Before anything else could happen, Walker woke up.

"No..." Walker muttered, stumbling around. He adjusted his glasses and looked around. "No..... no..... NOO!" Walker jerked upwards and stood up, grabbing his bag. and fumbling with his hair. "Not you.... not here.... not again..."

"Walker baybay, it's all good. Just relax and take a deep breath." Dent said.

"No... NO!" Walker stomped. "I was finally free from you people! Finally away from this crazy mess! And now... now I'm right back here again..."

"We were all teleported against our will, if that makes you feel any better." Par commented.

"No, it doesn't." Walker replied angrily. "That is the equivalent of getting shot in the face, and having another person, who is lying on the ground next to you, say, 'oh, I was shot in the face too! It's all hunky dory!' ... No, it's not comforting, nothing any of you say is going to fix this, and it is most certainly not hunky dory!"

"Beybaah, calm doooown. We're all in one kinky place. Make use of that and we'll get ourselves out of this." Dent pleaded.

"You know what? No. I worked hard to get us away from these lunatics and keep us alive, Dent. I won't sit back and watch you befriend them once again and get us all killed." Walker replied.

"What exactly happened while I was unconscious?" Richard asked.

"Walker got mad and ran off." Boogie grumbled.

"Go fuck a duck, Boog." With that, Walker retreated into his bag.

"Huergh. I'm a psychic!" Boogie gobbled.

"Whoa, what just happened?" Cher asked.

"Well, bibeh, allow me to introduce you to our group." as Dent suggested this, Richard and Par sighed. "I am, of course, the kinkyliciously kinked up Dentface, otherwise known as the slasher of the seeeeeas. The women at my side are my baykinkbays, and they are mentally glued to me. This over is the Boogie Baby, one of my own customers. Richard Nolan is the baybah who tried to shoot ya, and the smelly guy is..."

"I already know who Bill is." Cher scoffed.

"Mmmmmmmmm, and the guy in the coat is Par baybay." Dent slurped. "Oh, and my good kink Walka, the walker of all the lands, was the guy who jumped into the bag. His orange kinkbox holds all kinds of kink, and just about any size of kink can fit into it!"

"Great, so basically any of you could try and kill me." Cher remarked.

"Nuh uh uh beybeeh, if anyone tries any kank, I'll stop 'em in the name of the kink." Dent declared.

"You can't protect her forever, Dent." Richard stated. "I have untended sausagery with this woman."

"Weeeeeellllllll, I'm sure we can work all that out naow, ey, baybey?" Dent grinned. "Cher babeh seems like a reasonable baykinkbay."

"She sliced off my penis." Richard said sternly.

"And mine!" Bill added.

"Well." Dent paused. "Mm, I suppose that is pretty facky. So... you two can't..."

"Of course I can get it on whenever I want; we went to a healer!" Richard shouted.

"I'm sure she can provide a kinky explanation as to what went down specifically, ey, beybey?" Dent raised his eyebrows and licked his lips.

"It better be one royal-ass explanation, then, because I can't think of the last time somebody told me, 'oh, I'm sorry I sliced off your reproductive organ, let me bake you a pie for your inconvenience'!" Richard replied.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was nothing personal." Cher grinned.

"Oh, it was nothing personal?" Richard flung his arms into the air and scoffed. "Okay, I'll just cut off your body part... it's nothing personal!"

"It really wasn't." Cher responded. "When I get really stressed out and to the point of constant depression, I just let it out by going around and taking designated body parts off of people who then get to feel a fraction of my frustration. And, to be fair, I only went after people whose dicks seemed worth taking."

"Well, that makes perfect sense!" Richard mocked. "Hey, your face looks pretty, let me just slice your head off!"

"That's not quite how it is." Cher argued.

"Oh, then do please enlighten me." Richard replied. By then, Walker had cooled off and had exited his bag. However, he said nothing. He simple stood about in silence.

"I have had enough of this." Bill declared.

"Uh oh. Bill's mad." Boogie muttered.

"What else is new?" Par asked.

"The girl who lived..." Bill began. "How severed dicks have fed your reputation, Cherie! Do the rest of you want to know what really happened a few nights ago? Shall I divulge how I truly lost my dick? It was freshness. You see, sweet dear Cher uses a powerful deodorant on her armpits. It provided her with the ultimate protection. I could not control of her! Normally, I can take control of a person using their own stink if I am forced into such a serious situation, but this... this freshness, it is a simple trick, something I should have foreseen. But no matter, no matter, things have changed. I can stench you... now..." Bill stepped forward and raised the piece of the Ood stick toward Cher.

"Bibeh halt!" Dent went to action. The Cheese Guards noticed the incident as well.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Bill yelled, flinging the stick forward. Nothing happened. "This usually works."

"Performance issues? Huergh." Boogie gobbled.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Bill tried again, but still, this did nothing. "Avada kedavra.... AVADA KEDAVRA.... AVADA KEDAVRAAA!!!" Bill kept trying, but he couldn't seem to do whatever he was trying to do. Suddenly, he let out a massive scream and flung his "wand" toward Cher again. "EEEEEEEYEEAUHHHHHGH!" This did nothing.

"I'm flattered." Cher smirked.

"Consumer, quiet down! You are disturbing cheese!" Joshua yelled, entering alongside Norman.

"Bill, you jackass, you can't summon stench magic with an Oodian item! Or any foreign, unholy magic, for that matter! Oodian relics are immune to your bewilderment!" Walker stated.

"So be it." Bill looked down and put the stick away. Then, he swooshed his hand into his armpit, covered it in stench and lunged forward - unfortunately for him, Dent grabbed his arms and held him back.

"HALT BAYBAY!" Dent ordered. Unfortunately for him, Bill violently turned around and immediately threw Dent off of him, tossing the Kinkmeister aside. Unable to get up quickly, Dent was helpless.

"Dent, you're too weak!" Walker pleaded.

"You see, when sweet, dear Johnny Dentface gave his own sense of smell for poor Cher, he provided her with the ultimate protection. I could not touch her! It was simple Kink, something I should have foreseen. But no matter, no matter, things have changed... I can stink you... now!" Bill swooshed forward again, but, this time, the two Cheese Guards apprehended him and jabbed their spears into his back, rendering him immobile.

"Did he just use the same quote twice?" Walker asked.

"I think we broke him." Richard muttered.

"Cease this violence, or we will be forced to disturb the Monger." Joshua ordered.

"The Monger doesn't like to be disturbed." Norman added.

"Alright, wankers, that's enough." Par joined the cluster. "Clearly, Cher here has caused quite a lot of problems for our little group. Slicing off people's penises isn't exactly a way to make friends, so you shouldn't expect to be treated fairly by Richard, and Bill's pretty much a dick to everyone at this point so you definitely should expect hostility from him. At the same time, Dent's forgiveness is partially understandable, given the fact that we are currently being held hostage by a bunch of Cheese people!"

"This situation is not oodious at all. The last thing we need to do is fight, even though I can't stand half of you." Walker admitted.

"Right." Par nodded. "So, Richard and Bill, I think we would all appreciate it if you'd calm down and stop trying to kill Cher. Now, Cher, if you could somehow apologize for-"

"Sorry, not sorry." Cher chirped. "It's just what I do, but, if it means you'll stop attacking me, I can make it up to you guys."

"Mmmmmmmmm." Dent added.

"Huergh. You can make it up to me!" Boogie quacked.

"That's not what I meant..." Cher mumbled.

Apparently things had calmed down enough for the cheese guards to release Bill and exit the room again. The group fell silent as the nine of them sat around in the circular room. Boogie kept trying to get into Walker's bag, hoping that food would be in there, but the blue-haired man did not allow this. Eventually, the Cheesemonger returned, followed by Lord Cheddar and Maroni Macaroni. The cheese guards bowed at the Monger's entrance, and the ruler of dairy didn't seem to be in a good mood. He walked with his staff in hand, glaring down the group with his stern eyes.

"Do ya got anymore cheese?" Boogie asked immediately. "Please don't noserape me. I don't deserve it... like, I just want somethin' to eat.

"Shut up, Boog." Par muttered.

"It amazes me, consumer, how, despite a visit to Lord Crow himself, you have still remained one of the most irritating, insulting, and foolish consumers I have ever encountered in my centuries on this earth." The Monger commented, entering the room. "Now..." the Monger flung his staff toward the ground, and, suddenly, a large arrangement of cheese appeared in the center of the room. "Eat this cheese."

"Okai!" Boogie gobbled, lunging forward, but he was soon struck by a blast of golden energy, knocking him back against the wall.

"You will eat last. After everyone else is finished." The Monger ordered.

"Baybaay, I don't believe you and I have had much of a conversation yet." Dent smiled, approaching the Monger.

"Let us keep it that way." The Monger replied. "Now, once you consume this cheese and after I teleport you to your next location, there are some things that will need to be dealt with. You will be entering the hometown of Miss Kinover, the fourth consumer to consume the lost holy cheese. Somehow, she is still the only one to have eaten any of the second batch."

"And why exactly are you sending us to do this? Clearly you don't trust us and we're petty annoyances to... your cheesiness, but I still don't understand why you don't use all of your power and your bears to just get the cheese back yourself." Par commented.

"As I have said, Cheesians cannot go out into the open. It is too risky, and such an action was banned long ago." The Monger replied. "Seeing as three of you ate the holy cheese, I was able to use enough power to get you here. You are consumers, and consumers are the best tools for the consumer world. Now, according to our crow reports, Miss Kinover returned to her home town, which will mean that this mission will be less simple than the previous."

"Less simple?" Richard objected. "Excuse me, Mr. Monger, but while you were sitting in your throne drinking milk, we almost died several times! Not only were we nearly arrested by the authorities multiple times, but we were forced to deal with Blake Stewart, one of the most annoying human beings I have yet to encounter in my lifetime. Oh, and then there's the part where we were attacked by a lunatic vigilante who rid smelly Bill and I both of our penises, otherwise known as Miss Cher over here."

"You're welcome." Cher responded.

"No, it has most certainly not been simple, and I'll be damned if we're going through another nightmare like that." Richard stated.

"Do not speak as if you have a choice, consumer." The Monger advised. "Don't forget that I only need one consumer to carry out the task of retrieving the holy cheese. If you disobey my command, I will not hesitate to start removing consumers from the equation... one by one-ah."

"Nah." Richard replied. "You need us, Mr. Monger. Clearly things aren't going well for you here in your tower of constipation; you require us to bring this cheese to you. Ergo, if you harm one of us, we're not going to keep doing your dirty work."

"You dare threaten the Monger of Cheese?" The Cheesemonger stepped closer to Richard, but the consumer didn't back down.

"I'm threatening no one - I am simply making my position clear. If we're going to help you, then you'd better provide us with more information, resources, and assistance, otherwise we might as well jump into your incinerator and call it a day. You either get to deal with all of us, or none of us. What's it gonna be, cheese man?" Richard commented.

"I am not a cheese man. Cheese men cannot speak, you bullswisser. I am the Cheesemonger, ruler of dairy."

"Yeah yeah, we got that part." Cher commented.

"Shush." Richard interjected. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Mr. Monger?"

"Your loyalty to your group is misplaced, Mr. Nolan." The Monger gave Richard a glare. "You'll soon realize how weak it makes one to cling to and rely on others, ... but if you insist, I will not harm your comrades, but if you fail on this mission, I won't be so merciful, and the other Cheese Lords would have you incinerated already if not for my intervention. You'd best consider me a very valuable ally, consumer."

"Great!" Richard grinned. "We're allies. That's what I was getting at, cheese m-err, Cheesemonger. You help us help you, in a sense."

"Cheesian influence is currently limited in the consumer world. However, I'm sure Lord Cheddar can pull some string cheese." The Monger glanced to the Cheese Lord, who nodded.

"We need supplies, we need transportation, we need-" Richard began...

"MMMMM!" Dent interrupted. "I'm sure we can find ourselves a nice kinkmobile."

"No, Dent, no more pink vans." Par commented.

"But I had food in that thing!" Boogie added.

"Shut up, Boog." Par replied.

"Why ride in a car when you can just apparate wherever you need to go?" Bill asked dramatically.

"Wat." Boog grumbled.

"Wot." Par muttered.

"Dowut?" Walker asked.

"Da fack are you talkin' about, baybay?" Dent asked.

"What." Cher added.

"What?" Bill asked legitimately. Richard simply sighed.

"Bullswissers!" The Monger interjected. "Enough of your babbling. Clearly, you are more sentient than I had originally assumed, even if you are all still as dim-witted as ever. We shall secure you a vehicle with adequate instructions... hopefully you can manage it."

"Monger." Maroni called. "I have been informed via my new CheeseTech Headset that the Cheese Lords are starting more fights in the council. Your guidance might be required." The Monger sighed.

"Verah well." The Monger said. "Begone, consumers. Handle your task more... efficiently this time, and you will be rewarded with your lives... and cheese. Fail, and you will be engulfed in the queso incinerator." With that, the Monger flung out his hand and closed his eyes. After a moment, the group vanished.

"Where did you get that?" Cheddar asked, eyeing Maroni's headset. "It's still in the prototype stage."

"I found it." Maroni declared, smacking on some noodles he produced out of nowhere.

"You should return it; it isn't safe." Cheddar reached for the piece of equipment, but Maroni swatted his hand aside.

"No! I found it. It's mine!" with that, Maroni waddled off.

Chapter 33: Nice Edit

The hour was 5:21 PM. The nine group members lied unconscious in the grassy yard of a house that was for sale. The home was old and bit run down, and the area was quiet and peaceful. Several houses nearby were also for sale, in fact, and there was no abundance of traffic on the simple street nearby. Despite the presence of several trees, The afternoon sun steadily cooked the Tennessee neighborhood. Walker was the first to awaken, yawning and standing up stiffly. He looked around, dazedly observing his surroundings. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he was the only one awake. In a hurried fashion, he began marching around, nervously developing a plan. Then, he stopped in place and swooshed around. He stuffed Dent and his women into his bag, making as little noise as possible. Once he had them secured, he zipped up the bag and turned around to make his escape - unfortunately, he found Richard standing directly in his path.

"Going somewhere, Walker?" Richard asked with a sigh.

"Yes." Walker replied. The blue-haired man attempted to fake Richard out by zipping in various directions, but he was violently halted when he tried to run as Richard simply tackled him to the ground, smudging his green glasses into the dirt.

"What the hell is going on here?" Par asked, also standing up from his slumber. "... where's Dent?"

"Our blue-haired friend here decided to try and make a run for it." Richard explained, regaining his stance as he remained close to Walker, who roughly forced himself up. "I believe Dent's in the bag."

"Yes, Dent is inside the bag." Walker explained. "I told you, Par, I'm done with this."

"Even Dent wants to stick around, Walker." Par rebutted. "Look, I get that you're annoyed, but you saw what happened. Even if you ran away, you'd just get teleported. It's better that we stick together and get this shit done."

"Teleportation cannot breach the defenses of Ood." Walker explained. "All we have to do is get there..."

"Clearly you aren't making it to your mystical fairyland, Walker. Stop being delusional and just deal with this predicament for a little bit longer, and then you'll be free to go." Richard commented.

"That seems reasonable... but I have a terrible feeling about this whole thing. It's been nothing but bad so far, and sooner or later we are going to get killed by bears, cheese, spoderman, or the authorities." Walker replied.

"None of us want to be here, but, unfortunately, we have no choice." Richard explained. "Plus, we're more coordinated now and I'm not letting us break into insanity again. We're getting this shit done and getting out of this mess."

"I admire your determination, but I just don't know..." Walker frowned.

"Why don't we wake Dent up and see what he has to say about it?" Par suggested.

"Fine." Walker begrudgingly reached into his bag and procured the foot of one of Dent's women. From there, he pulled both the women and Dent from the bag and tossed them onto the floor.

"I'm never gonna get used to that." Par muttered. All of these disturbances seemed to wake Dent up, but the Kinkmeister didn't stand upon waking. Instead, he just relaxed in the grass.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm." Dent hummed.

"Get up, Dent." Par remarked sharply, kicking Dent in his good leg.

"Halt, baybay...." Dent replied, still relaxing.

"Dent, what should we do?" Walker asked. "I'm out of ideas, and I'm exhausted. This is not Oodious at all."

"It's fiiieeeeen, beybeeey... all we gotta do is get the cheese and we'll be mula hula kinkyliciously kinkah great!" Dent exclaimed, finding enough energy to stand up. His women did the same.

"See? Dent's perfectly willing to continue. He's happy, so you're happy, so we're all happy and hunky dunky." Richard remarked. Walker just frowned at this. After a few more minutes, Par managed to wake everyone else up. Most of them were wondering what personality Bill was going to take on, but they weren't surprised at all when Bill suddenly removed one arm from the sleeve of his coat, allowing his jacket to hang loosely on one side. He smushed his lips and turned to the group, only to start laughing in his fish-like voice.

"Ha ha... ha ha... welcome to the south, lads. Ha ha... HAH ha..." Bill stated.

"I grew up in the south, bitch." Cher replied.

"Huergh! I did too! We have a lot in common." Boogie leaned closer to Cher, but the vigilante gave the obese monstrosity a death stare that even his stomach couldn't compete with.

"So did I... I think." Richard added. "Where are we, anyway?"

"I do believe we are currently touring the beautiful town of Sharon, Tennessee." Walker stated.

"And how the bloody hell do you know that?" Richard asked.

"Why did you ask if you didn't think anyone knew?" Walker replied with a followup question.

"Normally when I ask where we are, people give me the standard 'I don't know' rubbish and we go about our way. It's the routine, after all." Richard

"If one is observant, he can discover anything. Knowledge can always be unlocked in any circumstances. That is one of Headmaster Doobledore's favorite teachings." Walker stated. Judging from the letter in his hand, Richard deduced that Walker had already taken the time to raid a nearby mailbox.

"Right." Richard replied.

"Ahhhh... after a decade at sea, land is quite an enjoyable experience-ah." Bill interrupted.

"Bill, shut the fack up." Boogie gobbled.

"They just keep saying the same things over and over again..." Cher remarked.

"You have no idea." Walker sighed in frustration.

"Oi, wankers!" Par alerted the group. "I think this vehicle is meant for us." Par pointed to a nearby Jeep SUV. The keys were simply resting on the hood of the vehicle, and there was a note inside.

"This is some facky wacky piece of facky kank, baybay. This ain't no kinkmobile!" Dent commented.

"Kinkmobile?" Cher asked.

"Yes, it's my customized vehicle, 24-hour calculus. Wanna sign up?" Dent asked.

"Shush." Richard remarked. "No more kinkmobiles."

"Well baybah, kinkmobiles are kinkah great! And to think... we have so many of them back in that town. We should go back and get those kinks." Dent replied.

"No, Dent, the authorities probably already confiscated those vans." Par stated. "Plus, I'm pretty sure we were a long way from Tennessee anyways."

"All the kinkmobiles are gone?" Dent frowned. "Nao nao nao...... facky beyboys, fackies!"

"We'll be fine. This vehicle looks better anyways." Richard commented.

"Fack that, baybitchbay, nothin' beats a kinkyliciously kinked up kinkmobile." Dent said.

"This vehicle is actually much more updated than our previous ones." Par commented, sitting in the driver's seat of the vehicle. "Ahhhhh, air conditioning at maximum capacity. Anyways, the instructions here say that the cheese was shipped to a small cafe in the downtown area. No idea why, but I don't really give a shit. Now, let's load up!"

"I'll be driving, Par." Walker demanded.

"Well aren't you a wankwad?" Par asked. "Fine, I'll masturbate in the back while you take the wheel."

"I didn't need that information." Walker frowned.

"Ha ha." Par replied.

"Bitch-ah." Bill commented. "That's my line. Hah ha."

"Anyways, Walker, take this device." Par tossed Walker the small datapad he had used earlier. "It's still transmitting Keira's location."

"What is it with you and Richard stalking women?" Walker asked.

"To be fair, I had a pretty good reason." Richard stated.

"Wait, you guys tracked me too?" Cher asked.

"Of course!" Richard explained. "All of my bullets have tracking chips in them. It's quite handy, in fact."

"You people are insane." Cher commented.

"This is coming from the woman who slices off penises." Richard remarked.

"Your beacon is in this town... unbelievable." Walker commented. "This is advanced technology, even for Ood. How did you come across this thing?"

"Richard and I have... connections." Par commented. "But never mind that. Let's get going."

"Indeed, baybays. Let's get kinkin'." Dent suggested. He and his women loaded up into the passenger's seat, barely managing to fit as both of the ladies had to sit on top of Dent. Walker, of course, was in the driver's seat. Bill and Boogie ended up in the middle, and, even though there were only two of them, Boogie's fat and Bill's pets took up quite a bit of room. Par and Richard sat in the back, and Cher was faced with a choice.

"Do I really have to stay with you people..." Cher muttered.

"You're either helping us or we have no use for you." Par stated.

"And if we have no use for you, then we might as well bring forth some justice for the major inconveniences you put us through." Richard added.

"Fine." Cher said, reluctantly sitting in the back with Par and Richard. As much as she didn't like them, she was not going to choose to sit between Bill and Boog. After a few more moments they were off, all nine of them packed into the Jeep heading toward Keira Kinover's tracking beacon. Silence descended upon the group, all of them too occupied with whatever strange thoughts filled their brains. Eventually, Richard spoke up.

"So," he gestured to Cher. "Where'd you get the suit?"

"And the robots." Par added.

"And the robots!"

"Just a gift from a friend." Cher replied.

"And who might that be?" Richard asked.

"You wouldn't know him. He's basically a ghost." Cher remarked.

"Try me." Richard replied. "Par and I know a lot of people."

"Well, you won't know this guy." Cher said. "I don't actually know his real name, but we call him Hermit."

"Ah, I knew a guy named that once." Par said. "Did he have an obsession with throwing rats at people?"

"Uh... no." Cher squinted. "I never saw him do that."

"Bah." Par responded.

"Hey Bill." Boogie quacked.

"What-ah?" Bill asked.

"Do you have any friends?" Boogie asked. Bill didn't respond to this. "Y'know... like, other than us."

"My closest companions are my many kitties and birds-ah." Bill replied.

"Bill, no." Boogie gobbled. "Like, REAL friends. People! Huerh."

"There were some souls who tried to follow me around, but they soon learned the true power of their own stench-ah." Bill declared. "Those whose company I enjoyed were all claimed by the sea. My allies went on to achieve success and eat many steaks in their future."

"Well, I don't have a TON of friends, but, like, I know a lot of people, and a lot of people like me. Y'know? Plus the girls all think I'm really funny. Ya ever have a girlfriend, Bill?" Boogie slobbered.

"The women I loved... they pretended to love me. They betrayed me! And after their betrayal, they learned never to cross the power of the odor ever again." Bill stated.

"That's pretty deep." as Boogie said this, he pulled out a bag of Chex Mix from his side pocket and began consuming its contents.

"See, Walka baybeh?" Dent asked, trying to balance his two women, one on each leg. "This ain't so bad. We're doin' mula hula great."

"I guess." Walker sighed.

Suddenly, there was a disturbance. Out of nowhere, Bill lunged forward from the middle of the SUV, reaching forward to the stereo console with his hands. Doing this caused his arms to stretch forward, exposing his armpits and releasing his stench.

"Disgusting! Go e-way!" Walker gasped.

"Baybay halt! That's facky wacky of the kankiest degree, baybitchbay." Dent declared. Unfortunately, Bill simply responded with his usual "HA HA!" and continued messing with the controls. He used the stereo to turn on Pandora, followed by punching in a specific search. Then, the organs of Davy Jones' theme began blaring throughout the vehicle. Bill sat back, a grin appearing on his face as he began to pound his fists against the seats in front of him, going along with the beat of the track and violently shaking Walker and Dent.

"BILL! TURN IT OFF!" Boog protested, but Bill simply smacked his lips in response. Davy Jones' theme continued to play throughout the vehicle, and Bill continued to smash the seats to the rhythm of it. About twenty more minutes passed until they finally reached their destination. The tracking signal on Par's device led them to a local Popeye's restaurant, and the establishment was quite crowded in the evening hour of 6:34 PM.

"Well, apparently this is where the beacon is located." Walker stated.

"Fascinating." Par replied.

"Keira baybay was promised some 24-hour calculus. I can't offer the kinkylicious service without a Kinkmobile, beybehs." Dent commented. "As per the code of the Kink, I'll need to give her compensation for her inconvenience."

"Dent, did you forget? She left us and joined Jim Logan!" Walker commented.

"Das fackydackily true, beyboy, but I must stay true to the Kink." Dent responded.

"No time for that." Richard replied. "Let's just acquire the woman and then make our way to the cafe where the cheese is located."

"Given the delicate nature of our situation, I propose that Richard, Walker, and I handle this situation. Richard and I will do the talking, and Walker, you just stick her into your bag when ready." Par proposed.

"I'm not sure about this..." Walker muttered, wrestling with his bag as he exited the vehicle.

"Relax, it'll be fine." Par replied. "We're the sane ones, remember?"

"Uh, hey hey hey hey... hey, I'm pretty sane. Like, I'm actually really smart." Boog smiled.

"Okay." Richard shrugged Boogie's comment aside as the three of them entered the restaurant. It was the average Popeye's establishment, and the smell of mediocre chicken strips filled the air. There were a lot of people around, and locating one specifically would be a bit difficult. Several customers were giving Walker strange looks. "So, what exactly did she look like again?"

"She had some kind of strange costume on. I doubt she would use it in a public environment." Walker replied.

"Well, use the tracking device." Richard suggested.

"No use." Par replied. "It's too close now. It's only accurate for long distance tracking."

"Time to do some people watching, then." Walker chirped.

"Whoa!" a deep voice yelled. The group couldn't figure out where it was coming from. "Richard!"

"What?" Richard looked around, startled by the voice. He looked around, confused until he turned around to see Nnam, the man whose car they had attempted to steal, standing right next to him.

"That is your name, right?" Nnam asked, smiling at Richard. His hair was still trimmed neatly, but he had since grown a small beard, which didn't exactly seem to work on him. "I thought I heard them call you that, at least."

"Uh... yes, my name's Richard Nolan." Richard muttered.

"Right! I can't believe I found you guys!" Nnam said. "It's me, Nnam Gentle. The guy you left in the desert. I mean, you're all assholes, but, Richard, how can I repay you?"

"Since when does being an asshole require payment?" Par asked.

"No. You don't understand. Uh..." Nnam hesitated for a second. "Richard, you said something about sausage. I don't even know what it was, but it got me thinking... sausage sounded pretty good! So, uh, I headed to the first place that served sausage that I saw. Turns out, that's where I met my beautiful wife Chey! You helped me find my true love, Richard."

"Uh... I'm happy to help?" Richard mumbled.

"Like I said, I owe you big time now, man." Nnam stated. "Even though you hang out with a group of assholes. I mean, seriously, you guys just left me out there!"

"To be fair, your driver also left you. After his confrontation with Bill, he just took off." Par added.

"True, yes, this is true, but still. Haha." Nnam managed a laugh.

"You don't really seem that upset about it." Walker noticed.

"Yeah, well, at first I was angry as fuck, but then I met Chey and then we fell in love... I started to realize that it was all meant to be." Nnam replied. Suddenly, Dent and his women entered, ignoring the plan. Par rushed over to him.

"Dent, what the fook are you doin?" Par asked.

"I have a duty to serve the Kink, baybay. This bahbeh needs special attention." Dent replied.

"Well, we have a problem." Par added. "Mr. Nnam has found us."

"The baybay we left on the side of the road?" Dent asked.

"That's him." Par replied.

"Mmmmmmm!" Dent approached Richard, Walker, and Nnam. "Heeeeey, Nnam baybay! I know we did you a terrible kankin' back there on the road, but allow me to officially apologize on behalf of the group, and the Kink!"

"Wow, thanks... uh, what's your name again?" Nnam asked.

"Ugh." Richard sighed.

"Not again." Par rolled his eyes.

"I am the smexily dexy kinkyliciously kinked up Dentface, otherwise known as the sea slasher, baybaaaay." Dent declared. "And these are my baykinkbays."

"Nice." Nnam replied. "Anyways, let's head back to my table. I think you know my friends already." Nnam directed them to a large table, where they found none other than Keira Kinover and Squirto eating chicken strips. Both of them looked horrified to the group. "Hey guys, remember these people? Remember Richard? He's the guy who gave me the idea to eat sausage."

"Yeah, I remember them." Keira stood up, an angry expression on her face as she gave Par and Dent death stares. "I really don't have a reason to be here right now..."

"Nao nao nao, beybaaaah, hear us out." Dent began. "You are one smexily dexy kinkylicious baybay. I know I promised you some calculus, but, unfortunately, I've lost my kinkmobile."

"Yeah, I was inside it when the bear flipped it over." Keira said angrily. "Just like I was there when you killed Jim!"

"Well, beybey, it had to be done." Dent explained. "Jim turned into a kanky fackwagon. He became a baybitchbay."

"I don't care what you call him, he was mine and you just murdered him! That's not okay." Keira stated.

"Let's keep it down when discussing these events." Walker suggested. "The authorities are still looking for us."

"Great!" Squirto added. "Now the cops are going to ask us more questions."

"More questions?" Par asked.

"Ooh, uh," Nnam stuttered. "That's how the three of us ended up together. Squirt and I met up with Keira and we all received compensation for our losses. There was this sheriff who wanted information regarding you guys, so we told him what we knew in exchange for fair payment."

"Yes, we basically bought a mansion with it and we all split the cost." Squirt explained. "You may have screwed us over, but we came out ahead in the end, you nutsacks."

"Baybay, what's with all the hostility?" Dent asked.

"You stole... my... car!" Squirt stated.

"Borrowed, baybay, with every kinkylicious intention of getting it back to ya." Dent explained.

"But you didn't!" Squirt said. "And where is it now?"

"I believe your car was rammed off of a cliff by Jim Logan's hijacked Kinkmobile." Walker explained. "Don't worry, you'll get another one."

"A kinkier one!" Dent added.

"A better one!" Walker corrected.

"That one." Dent pointed out the window to their Jeep.

"That one?" Walker hesitated. "Yes... indeed, that one!"

"So you're giving me your Jeep." Squirt said. "I guess this can work out..."

"Mmmmmmm, das right smexily dexyman." Dent licked his lips.

"I never agreed to any of this." Keira said.

"What exactly are you okay with?" Richard asked.

"I'm okay with good, normal things. You know, love, happiness, respect, the things that y'all seem to NOT have in mind." Keira replied.

"Eugh." Richard gagged.

"Weren't you in some kind of cat cosplay when we met you?" Par asked.

"Yeah, I was, but I haven't done it since then." Keira explained. "It's just something I do every once in a while in my free time."

"And what about calling us rapists?" Par asked.

"That's pretty much what y'all seem like to me." Keira replied.

"Well, Par has called himself a rapist." Richard commented.

"Not really." Par replied. "I was going along with a joke and I didn't want to ruin the mood. I'm not that evil."

"Since when are you 'not that evil'?" Richard asked.

"Since now, you wanker." Par replied.

"Well, you're just one bloated sausage." Richard remarked.

"Not as bloated as Boogie, at least." Par commented.

"I feel like we've had this conversation before." Richard stated.

"Indeed." Par responded. "So, you all live in one house? How does that work?"

"It's a pretty big house. Dude, they gave us a shit-ton of money for helping to describe you guys." Nnam said. "So, really, getting attacked by you all led to my marriage and my house. I really do owe you, Richard."

"Yeah yeah, great." Richard replied. "Anyways, I need to discuss something with Par." Richard and Par stepped aside, hiding behind a large promotional cardboard cut-out of a woman holding chicken. "Alright. I think it'd be best if we don't mention it to Keira that we're planning on kidnapping her and getting her teleported to a supernatural tower of cheese."

"Obviously." Par replied. "Let's just casually suggest going to this cafe place once we find a good opportunity."

"Sounds good. Oh, and where did you even put that tracking device?" Richard asked.

"In her sock." Par grinned. "Where else would I put it?" Richard gave him a confused expression as the two of them returned to the group.

"Hey, if you guys need a place to stay, we have plenty of spare rooms at our place." Nnam offered.

"Really? That'd be great!" Walker suddenly took on a happier tone, accepting the offer before anyone could object. "Much appreciated."

"I'm also not okay with that." Keira frowned.

"Keira baybaaay, I know you have lots of reasons to be mad, but we're one kinked up group of baybays. It'll be fien." Dent suggested.

"Nnam, you are an idiot." Squirto said.

"Well fuck you, Squirt. Geez, man." Nnam replied. "I know these people did us all wrong, but we can at least see what happens and try to get along."

"And I will personally repay you for your lost calculus, bibeh." Dent gestured to Keira, who simply squinted in response.

"So, where exactly is this wife you speak of?" Richard asked.

"Oh, uh, well, she's at work." Nnam replied. "She doesn't get off her shift until 8:00."

"Fascinating." Richard replied. After getting a few more things worked out, they all exited the restaurant. Nnam, Squirt, and Keira entered a car of their own, and the group reentered their Jeep.

"Alright, wanks. We just ran into Squirto, Nnam Gentle, and Keira in there. We're going to meet with them at their house and stay there for a while. Apparently they received quite a bit of money because they were our 'victims,' so they now have a so-called mansion. We're not mentioning our reasons for being here, but we are going to try and lead them to the cafe where the cheese is located so we can get Keira and the cheese. As such, keep the details of our mission to yourselves." Par declared.

"Insolent worthless fools." Bill said, still comfortable in his seat. "If they try anything, they will soon learn the true nature of the stench."

"Yeah yeah, that's getting old." Cher replied. "At least some nice people will be around for once."

"Rude." Richard remarked.

"Mr. Duckpants is a fool, Squirto is a dumbass and Keira is a dried out fish. I have no use for them-ah." Bill declared.

"Really? Because I do." Par replied. "Because it seems to be the only way to ensure that the mission is completed as directed by the Cheesemonger. We need to return Keira to him, which will work best if she's alive. This is no longer your group to command, Bill. Your stench has become... stench."

"For now-ah." Bill smacked his lips.

"I wonder if Nnam has any more Snickers." Boog gobbled. "Mmrgh. I could go for some chocolate right now."

"Try the chocolate that comes out of your ass. I hear there's lots of food down there." Par commented.

"Shut the fack up, Par." Boogie grumbled. "Like, no, that's not the good kind!"

"Anyways, Walker, if you'd gladly follow the sausages, that'd be appreciated." Par said, rushing everyone to get moving.

"Right away." Walker speedily got the Jeep started and the group began their course for the Gentle residence.

Chapter 34: The House Edit

The hour was 7:38 PM. The group, following Squirto's small Honda, arrived at the Gentle residence. It was a rather large, fancy house, but not quite a "mansion." The bushes were trimmed neatly, the trees were all lined up perfectly, and the yard was clearly tended by workers. As everyone exited their vehicles in the rather large driveway, Nnam immediately took an interest in Cher.

"Who's this?" Nnam asked.

"Your mother." Walker stubbornly replied, not wanting to take the extra time to explain anything.

"This is the woman who sliced off my penis." Richard replied bluntly.

"Haaaaay." Cher produced an idiotic face.

"Okay then." Nnam suddenly took a step back, spawning a horrified expression.

"Don't worry, I got a new one." Richard said casually, moving aside as Bill approached.

"Your ducky there is still yet to be satisfied. One hundred quacks... as a start!" Bill stared Nnam down, giving him an angry face.

"Dude, what?" Nnam took another step back. "Hold the fuck up for a minute. I don't do that anymore. There's no need to mention it." Instead of responding, Bill simply took a look at Nnam's crotch before smacking his lips and walking aside. "What the fuck is your name anyway?"

Bill jerked to a halt when he heard this. Keeping one foot on the ground but raising another, he swooped around as if he had a lifeless leg. "The name's Bill-ah. But call me Da-"

"His name's Bill." Par interrupted.

"Yer a dried out fish!"

"No, you're a dried out fish!" Par replied.

"Do you fear... stench?" Bill asked.

"No." Par replied. "Anyways, Nnam, you remember Boogie, right?"

"Uh, who?" Nnam asked, confused. Then, Boogie waddled up to him, and he was instantly recognized. "Fuck, not this guy."

"Huergh. Hey Nnam!" Boogie quacked. "Ya got anymore Snickers?"

"Uh, no." Nnam backed away for a third time. "If you sit on me again, I swear to God, Boog..."

"Did you enjoy that, Nnam?" Boogie retaliated. Nnam simply sighed in response.

"You!" Squirto said, just now recognizing Bill. "You're just a dick."

"Ah. Salt-ah." Bill smacked. "A dreadful thing. And yet... so common in the seas. Tell me, Mastah Squirto, do ye fear stench?"

"You fucking threw me out of my car, man." Squirto complained. "Not cool at all."

"Not sure if you've noticed, but they aren't exactly nice people." Keira said grumpily.

"What the heck is wrong with them?" Squirt asked.

"Let me put it this way, Mr. Squirto." Richard intervened. "You people try to act normal. We, on the other hand, embrace our insanity." Squirto looked like he wanted to fight. His mustache twitched, and his glasses were falling off, but he didn't seem confident enough to engage in combat. He was the shortest one there, and he had to look up just to stare Richard in the eye. "Don't look so intense there, mate. We are giving you our Jeep, apparently."

"See, Squirt baybaaay? We're perfectly kinked up kinkies once you get to know us." Dent said.

"It's a bit hard to get to know you when you toss me out of my car." Squirt replied grumpily.

"Well, they definitely need to stop being assholes in that sense, but they're not bad after I realized that they're just... a little different." Nnam commented.

"Aww. How sweet." Cher mocked.

"Well, you are all kind of fucked up." Nnam chuckled. "But I'm okay with that. Solely because Richard mentioned sausage."

"Oh, and there's the part where you apparently made it rich off of us." Richard remarked.

"Yeah. That too." Nnam chuckled again.

"Well baybay, the kink works in mysterious ways. Sometimes I kink someone up without even realizing it! Sometimes people get kinked without me meaning for them to get kinked. Sometimes my kink makes its way to people without me ever even talking to them! It's mega kink." Dent grinned.

With that, the group began making their way into the house. The yard was complete with several hedges and the walkway led neatly toward the front door. Upon opening the door, Nnam politely stood aside to allow the others to enter.

"Finally." Keira muttered, tossing aside her purse and other belongings before immediately running off to wherever her room was in the home. The interior was well-decorated, pleasant, and clean.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" Dent exclaimed, entering with his women and stretching satisfyingly. "This place is supah kinkylicious, beybey. This is some next level kink! My baybays will be nice and comfortable."

"This seems like quite the Oodious establishment." Walker commented, observing the well-kept aspects of the building and examining everything intently. As the group made their way past the first room, Nnam walked aside.

"Honey, we're home!" Nnam announced happily. "I brought some friends."

"Okay!" A quiet, yet high-pitched voice could be heard from within a room.

"I thought your wife is working?" Par asked.

"Oh, uh, ooh, she is, but she works at home." Nnam corrected.

"A smart worksite-ah." Bill commented. "If I were ever in need of a job, I would want to simply reside in the safety of my own land-ah. The less time spent away from my pussies, the better."

"Mmrgh!" Boogie grumbled. "I smell food!"

"Uh, yeah, Jeffrey is probably cooking up some bacon." Nnam added.

"I love bacon! Where's it at?" Boogie asked, but was ignored.

"Bacon for dinner?" Richard asked.

"Don't question it." Squirto mumbled.

"A disgrace-ah." Bill commented.

"Well, Chey loves bacon, so that's what she has Jeffrey cook." Nnam explained.

"Not only that, but you have a cook?" Par asked.

"I told you, dude, we made a shit ton of money." Nnam explained.

"Maybe I should invest in having someone steal my car and throw me in the desert." Richard remarked.

"I do believe that the sheriff had a personal vendetta against us from the start." Walker added. "That whore-lover would pay a fortune to find us."

"What else did you guys even do, exactly?" Nnam asked, making his way into the living room, where the others followed. The furniture was fairly new, but nothing too ridiculously expensive. There were several recliners, two couches, a coffee table and a large TV present. A Blu-ray and DvD player was proudly in the middle of the TV area, and there were even multiple gaming systems, both a Playstation 4 and an Xbox One.

"Uh... that's a long story." Par mumbled.

"We were stranded, we've been attacked by bears, and we've been shot at by policemen." Richard remarked. "We've stolen cars, food, clothes, and even a boat. There's not much more you need to know."

"Well damn." Nnam admitted. "You guys just seem to know how to get into all kinds of shit."

"A most unfortunate experience-ah." Bill commented.

"I've lost three Kinkmobiles through this thing, baybays, plus all those that the mechanics kinked up." Dent added. "Some major kank has been goin' down, but my kink tells me that we're finally in the clear."

"Well, great." Nnam said happily. "We have games, movies, food, all that shit. Pretty much everything a human being needs to survive."

"Do you have Dr. Pepper?" Richard asked.

"Can you cook a steak-ah?" Bill asked.

"How about some Hawaiian Punch?" Par asked. "The special flavor."

"Uh... nope." Nnam had a blank expression. "Jeffrey could cook up some steaks, but we're definitely having bacon for dinner, and I'm not telling him to cook steak after that. That's a waste."

"I'll take either! Huerh." Boogie gave his input. "Food is food, and food is good."

"Only some food-ah." Bill replied.

"Bill, shut the fuack up. All food is good. Mrmm." Boogie slurped.

"Primarily ice cream and steak-ah." Bill commented.

"And beef, and ground beef, and roast beef, and ham, and bacon, and pork, and fish, and chicken, and chocolate, and chips, and..." Boogie continued.

"Stop or it gets cut off." Par ordered.

"Your wife is a strange person." Walker commented. "Bacon is a customary item for early morning breakfasts or midday brunches."

"Well, yeah, the bacon thing is pretty weird, but there's nothing I can do about it. She'll be off her shift soon. She's a bit... different... but she's neat." Nnam insisted.

"Mmmmmmmm." Dent began. "She sounds like a smexily dexy baybay."

"Dude. That's my wife. Fuck off." Nnam reacted.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm, don't worry, babah, it's nothing personal. Nobody can resist the kink!" Dent replied, licking his lips and flexing. "Besides, the kink chooses the baybey. Not the other way around."

"Well, just keep your 'kink' or whatever the fuck away from my wife then." Nnam replied.

"Nao nao naaaao, beyboy, the kink goes wherever it pleases. As is a healthy, kinkylicious lifestyle. Don't worry, it'll be mega kink." Dent walked away. Nnam simply gave a strange expression to the others. Suddenly, Squirt dragged Nnam into another room.

"Well, I guess they're going to make out in there." Cher joked. Nobody laughed. "What?"

"Bloody sausages." Richard sighed.

Meanwhile, Squirt angrily protested to Nnam in the other room:

"You are a complete and utter idiot! Can't you see that these loons are taking advantage of you!?" Squirt asked.

"Fuck you, Squirt!" Nnam announced. Everyone heard this. "These guys are responsible for our money, our house, our car... even my marriage! Plus, they seem pretty cool. And Cher is hot... you should totally try talking to her."

"Well, I can't argue with that... but apparently she cuts off people's dicks!" Squirt shouted. This was also heard by everyone.

"Well... people have issues. You hack people!" Nnam shouted. Again, everyone heard this.

"And you have a stuffed duck in your pants!" Squirt shouted in response.

"Dude, shut the fuck up." Nnam replied.

"No, you shut the heck up! You were my nutty buddy, but now these assholes are back and you're just letting them into our house." Squirt complained.

"Nutty buddy?" Nnam asked. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It's a reference." Squirt sighed.

"Okay, whatever, bro." Nnam shrugged the comment aside. "Look, the point is, you need to shut that little mustache of yours and enjoy the company of these people we have visiting here. I'm positive they'll be out of our lives in a couple of days." Nnam reassured Squirt, and the both of them returned to the main group. "Sorry about that."

Then, Chey emerged from the other room. She was wearing a long, elegant black dress and had an excessive amount of makeup on, being essentially prepared for a meeting with the queen. Her composure was confident, headstrong, and generally happy, but her fancy attire suggested an overcompensation and a deeply-buried paranoia regarding her own appearance. She had long, brown hair and she immediately grinned upon seeing the group.

"Hello!" Chey squeaked, the "o" in her word being drawn out and stretched beyond the usual, comfortable syllable.

"Well, this is my beautiful wife, Chey." Nnam declared.

"Haaaaaay, baybaaay." Dent took the initiative. "Mmmmm, I believe some introductions are required. Baybays?"

"Huergh. I'm Boogie Baby." Boogie announced. "But you can call me Boog."

"Hi, Boog." Chey forced a grin.

"Greetings! I'm Richard Nolan." Richard said casually.

"Nice to meet you." Chey replied.

"The name's Bill-ah, and I am the master of the birds, but call me... Davy Jones." Bill announced.

"Okay..." Chey hesitated. "I think I'll just call you Bill. Okay Bill?"

"Do not... test me..." Bill replied dramatically. "You seem like someone who can earn my respect, despite your mistakes. How are you, madame?"

"I'm good! Thank you." Chey continued to use this normal voice, but Par twitched at the sound of it.

"Hi! I'm Parax." Par grinned. "You can refer to me as... Paaaar."

"Hi, Par." Chey greeted the so-called vampire.

"I am Walker, a traveler of Ood." Walker announced.

"Alright, hi Walker." Chey nodded.

"Hiiiii." Cher gave Chey a creeper grin. "I have all sorts of names, but just call me Cher." Chey did not respond to this comment. Instead, she simply grinned blankly.

"Mmmmmmm, and, of course, savin' the best for last, I am the kinkyliciously kinked up Kinkmeister, otherwise known as Dentface, otherwise known as the slasher of the seeeeeas-a-baybay, but you can call me Dent, beybeh." Dent chirped.

"Okay then." Chey replied.

"She's evil." Par whispered to Richard.

"What?" Richard asked.

"Something about her is just... evil." Par whispered back, still staring at Chey with widened eyes.

"This is coming from the guy who kills people with moths and dresses up like the grim reaper several times a year." Richard whispered. "She seems fine to me."

"So, my dear, have we been formally introduced?" Squirt approached Cher, being careful to watch for any knives.

"Not really." Cher replied. "I'm sorry, what's your name?" Cher used her 'normal' voice for once, trying to at least be polite.

"Well, my name's Squirt, but you can call me... Squaaanto." Squirt's mustache twitched. "I've noticed you have quite a fine a-" Squirt was cut off...

"HEY! Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey... hey, hey...." Boogie intervened, scooting forward between the two of them and physically shoving Squirto aside with his belly, effectively cock-blocking the small man. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"And what authority do you have, Mr. Boogie?" Squirto was angry.

"Like, ya gotta be a gentleman. Don't be rude, Squirt! My gosh." Boogie quacked. "You gotta know how to treat a lady."

"What a hypocrite-ah." Bill squawked.

"SHUT THE FUCK, BILL!" Boogie quacked again.

"Hey!" Chey chirped. "Please don't use bad language."

"Well, that's exceedingly ironic, given the fact that your husband seems to exercise his right to use the word 'fuck' in every sentence." Richard remarked.

"Uh, ooh, uh, yeah, but not in front of her!" Nnam corrected.

"Yep. He'd do anything for me." Chey grinned and Nnam leaned forward in her direction, and suddenly they embraced in a kiss.

"Eugh." Richard gave his input.

"I need this type of relationship." Bill declared. He looked around, realizing that Cher was the only female available. "Well, Miss Cher Bitch, shall we make glorious stink together?"

Cher laughed loudly, then approached Bill. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" She put a hand on Bill's shoulder, bringing him closer before kneeing him in the crotch.

"Huergh!" Boogie gave his input.

"Augh!" Bill exclaimed. "Fuck this shit-ah!"

"Language!" Chey's face grew red as she gave Bill a death stare, having apparently ceased her exchange of saliva with Nnam.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," Dent began. "Beybays, calm dooown. I have Deadpool news!" The group gathered around the Kinkmeister. "There will be.... ass... in Deadpool!" There was silence. Chey sighed in frustration.

"Sausage." Richard replied.

"Yer a dried out fish-ah." Bill declared.

"Dent, that's really getting old." Walker complained.

"Chey, beybey, ya gotta realize that sometime we just talk a little weirdly... don't question the kink!" Dent suggested. "You seem like an extra kinky baykinkbay... what's your job like beybeh?"

"Well, I work on a website for a game." Chey replied.

"What game?" Walker asked. "You're going to have to be more specific... I have enjoyed over one hundred and seventy three video games in my collection."

"Well, it's a remake of an old game called POTCO." Chey said, raising her tone as if she were advertising the word. Richard and Par stared her down.

"That game is long dead." Par stated.

"Don't speak of it. Those were dark times." Richard said. Chey ignored this, continuing to explain herself.

"It's really fun... they've got all the textures from the old game! And I'm an admin on the site. It's still in beta stage but I already have four maxed out characters and it's making so much progress. There are so many people invested in the project." Chey bragged.

"MMMMMMMMMMMM!" Dent gave his input. "That's kink kank konky donky and kinkyliciously kinked, baybah. Sounds like a mula hula fun tiem."

"It is." Chey agreed.

"Do you even get paid for that?" Richard asked.

"No." Chey replied blankly. "Why would I need money? Nnam has plenty of it, plus he still works at Best Buy. I have what's called a passion job."

"That's... not a thing." Walker replied.

"Yes, it is. I think I'd know, I have one." Chey insisted.

"No, it's not, it's literally some dumb shit that you just made up. It does not exist." Walker said.

"Okay, I can't let you talk to my wife like that, man." Nnam intervened. Walker reached into his bag and procured a banana.

"Bitch please." Walker displayed his banana proudly.

"Let's all just settle down here." Richard suggested. "I think we're all in the mood for some nice... bacon, right?"

"I am!" Boogie yelled.

"It should be ready. Let's eat!" Chey said enthusiastically. With that, the twelve of them headed into the dining area. It was a large, nice room with expensive dishes and glasses. Keira was already there, having chosen a seat farthest away from the rest of them. Wine was served and bread was laid out for each guest, and cheese dip was also an option.

"Chey may pick the food, but I made sure there's always cheese dip." Nnam declared.

"Pardon me, sir, but the main course will be a bit late. We had to improvise at the sudden influx of guests." Jeffrey, the cook, stated.

"No problem. It's good, dude." Nnam replied.

Somehow, they were all seated, and Boogie immediately devoured his bread, grumbling and spewing crumbs everywhere. Then, he went for the cheese dip, plundering a very generous serving for himself. Dent's women, eating sitting in seats next to him, still held onto his arms. They didn't eat, but they instead chose to feed Dent bread one piece at a time as he made "mmm" noises. Cher seemed more interest in the wine, and Chey chose not to eat but a small bite of bread, leaving the rest of it uneaten.

Eventually, the main course arrived. Everyone was offered the same meal - a large plate of eight pieces of sizzling bacon. Boogie instantly began chomping into his, sending his plate and his napkins flying in various directions. The rest of them ate fairly normally, except for Walker, who refused to eat.

"Walker, you gonna eat that?" Boogie asked.

"Nope." Walker replied sharply. Boogie rapidly reached across the table and grabbed Walker's plate from him, beginning on it as well. Then, he needed a drink. Unsatisfied with the wine, Boogie procured a soda can from his belt and popped it up.

"Sprite." Boogie declared, gulping on his beverage. Chey was very intent and focused on her bacon, while Nnam seemed to stick to the cheese dip. Overall, each of them had their quirks and awkward qualities while eating, and the dinner was mostly quiet until Nnam started up a conversation.

"So, what kind of games do you guys play?" Nnam asked. "Hopefully you sausages are cultured."

"Sausages...?" Richard froze.

"What?" Nnam asked.

"Bloody... confoodlers." Richard muttered.

"Anyways, games?" Nnam rephrased.

"As I said, I have quite a collection of games!" Walker added. "Of course a lot of them are the small Steam games I picked up for cheap, but I played the KOTOR games. Ever heard of them?"

"Yeah, nice." Nnam said casually.

"I also own Battlefront and Battlefront II, both I've played quite extensively." Walker stated.

"Nice." Nnam replied.

"I pre-ordered the new Battlefront, but I might need to steal a better compootor with my bag before I can play it." Walker added.

"Nice." Nnam nodded.

"Of course then there's SWTOR," Walker began.

"You guys play swoah-tar? Nice!" Nnam said.

"It's pronounced swoh-tor." Walker corrected.

"Okay, whatever." Nnam replied. "But yeah, swoah-tar, nice."

"I also enjoy Team Fortress 2," Walker continued,



"Nice." Nnam continued.

"I play many, many games, as is encouraged in Ood." Walker raised an eyebrow.

"Nice." Nnam replied.

"Probably a lot more games than you..." Walker continued.

"Nice." Nnam replied, staring at his plate.

"You're listening to me very intently." Walker remarked.

"Nice." Nnam stated.

"We've all killed people before." Walker said bluntly.


"My grandmother died today." Walker gave an annoyed face.

"Nice." Nnam replied blankly. There was silence. Suddenly, Nnam realized what was said. "Oh, shit, uh, sorry dude!"

"Nnam! Language!" Chey chirped.

"Uh, ooh, uh, sorry." Nnam apologized.

"You're a whore." Walker insulted.

"Guys! Seriously!?" Chey became red-faced.

"You know, Nnam, that's a good name for you!" Richard stated.

"Ooh, uh, what?" Nnam asked.

"Mr. Nice!" Richard grinned. "I can already tell. That's gonna stick."

"Uh... no, it's not." Nnam chuckled.

"Mmmmmmmmm, Mr. Nice Kinky Baybay... that'll do just fien beyboy." Dent declared.

"I guess that makes Chey Mrs. Nice." Par added.

"Whatever." Nnam shrugged the name aside.

"Enough-ah!" Bill declared, storming off from the dinner table. After that, nobody said anything else until dinner was over. Being quite exhausted from their trip, the group was quick to develop sleeping arrangements - some of them slept in the guest rooms, some of them slept in recliners, and some of them slept on the couches.

While the all of the group members needed sleep, Nnam, on the other hand, decided to take a shower before retiring to bed with Chey. He casually entered the bathroom, tossing off his shirt and turning the water on. He began humming to himself, although he clearly wasn't singing in the right key and his notes were all over the place. He kept switching from a major key to a minor key, creating an ear-molesting tune. Nevertheless, he gathered his items and began for his shower, but he was startled when Bill suddenly entered the bathroom.

"Dude, we have three bathrooms. Use one of the other ones!" Nnam protested.

"You." Bill pointed at Nnam. "You are only just now tapping into the potential of your stench... and yet, you are in here? What is your purpose here?"

"Uh, what the fuck does it look like I'm doing? I'm gonna take a shower." Nnam replied.

"What is your purpose here...?" Bill repeated.

"I'm going to take a shower...?" Nnam replied.

"Are you now?" Bill smacked his lips. "I'm sorely tempted to accept that offah." Bill took a deep breath. Suddenly, he broke out into a speech. "LET NO JOYFUL DUCK BE FUCKED!"

"Dude, what?" Nnam asked.

"LET NO NNAM LOOK TO THE SHOWERS WITH HOPE." Bill continued. "AND LET MR. NICE BE CURSED... BY I, WHO READY TO WAKE.... THE QUACKIN'-AHH!!!" Suddenly, Bill sent his hand forward. Nnam instantly cramped. Somehow, Bill took control of the stench in Nnam's stuffed duck, which was, as Bill remembered, still in Nnam's pants. Then, the duck flew out of his trousers, ripping a hole in them and landing in Bill's hand. "Hah ha. HA hah." Bill grinned.

"What the fuck? That's only for emergencies." Nnam stepped forward, adjusting his pants to hide his valuables. Suddenly, he grabbed the sewer dweller by his shirt and pulled him forward. "You wanna go, huh?" Nnam managed a tough face, his beard squished and his eyebrows uncomfortable. However, Bill simply laughed.

"Hah hah... HAH ha ha...." Bill continued laughing before sticking his chin out and opening his mouth wide. As Nnam gazed upon the horror of Bill's uncleaned molars, Bill let out a large amount of breath, and Mr. Nice was instantly affected.

"FUCK!" Nnam shouted, immediately dropping Bill and falling backwards from the attack. "I've never smelled something so terrible! You fucking stench filth bastard fuckface!" Nnam then lunged forward and proceeded to punch Bill in the face.

The walking garbage bin didn't seem to expect this, and was sent flying backwards with an "EEUH-HUAH!" noise. Injured, Bill fled the scene.

"That's right, run, you little bitch!" Nnam shouted, angrily slamming the door shut and locking it before tossing the duck aside. He continued to take his shower.

Despite their bickering, the group was at a nice, peaceful place. Here, they flourished, thrived, and blossomed, enjoying their arrangements and making the best of their mission. Little did they know that their worst nightmare would soon descend upon them...

Chapter 35: Plans (The Calm) Edit

"Another secret of the universe: Sometimes pain was like a storm that came out of nowhere. The clearest summer could end in a downpour, could end in lightning and thunder.” ― Benjamin Alire Sáenz

The group didn't awaken until shortly before noon. None of them had slept that good or for that long in quite some time. The Gentle residence was peaceful, roomy, and nice. It was like a dream come true for the band of loons and jokers, who all took the time to shower and freshen up. Well, except Bill, who chose not to bathe, and Boog, who couldn't fit in any of the three bathtubs present. Instead, the Boogie Baby took to washing his massive sack of hair and some of his beard in the sink. Chey swore never to step foot in that bathroom ever again.

Meanwhile, Squirto entered Keira's room unannounced. The interior was different from the rest of the house, and had clearly been customized to Keira's likings. The bed had a very old-fashioned look to it, and the quilts were excessively detailed. An old clock hung on the wall, and an antique wooden chair rested comfortably in the corner. Keira was sitting on the bed, one leg hanging off of it as she focused on the computer in her lap. She had her headphones on and seemed to be in the middle of a Skype call with someone. Entering quietly, Squirt proceeded to shut the door. He had to tap her on the shoulder just to inform her of his presence. She jumped slightly, then put the call on hold.

"What is wrong with you? I told ya, it's not happening." Keira commented.

"What? No. It's not that." Squirt shook his head. "But, I mean, the offer's always there..." Keira shot him a glare and he ceased speaking.

"What is it, then?" Keira asked.

"Well, I was just thinking... we don't have to put up with this." Squirt replied. "Nnam has gone full retard... it's time we do something about it."

"Like?" Keira raised her eyebrows, clearly not buying into Squirt's plan.

"We can both agree that the idiots being in our own house is far too much. But, as long as Nnam is all buddy buddy with them, they won't be removed. I mean, the only reason I'm here is because of the cash, but, since you live here, and leaving is clearly not an option, then Nnam and Chey might have to be the ones... removed." Squirt stated.

"And how exactly do we do that?" Keira asked. "Look, I'm not crazy about those people either, but as long as they leave me alone, y'all can go off adventuring all day for all I care."

"But they won't leave you alone, don't you see?" Squirt continued. "They seem to cause things wherever they go; I don't intend to be dealing with that. What I propose, is that, once we find the opportunity, we let the police know about the idiots."

"Won't they wonder why we've been keeping them in our house?" Keira asked.

"Yes, of course, but that's where Nnam and Chey come in. We discreetly mention that Nnam and Chey are friends with these fugitives, and that we didn't realize they were criminals until later on. That way we get rid of all of them at once!" Squirt sounded confident, almost impressed with his own words.

"So we just frame our friends? Seems a bit harsh to me." Keira frowned. Squirt looked away, searching for a response. Suddenly, he took notice to the door.

"WHO'S STANDING OUTSIDE THE DOOR!?" Squirt yelled, stomping over to it. He pulled it open only to find Boogie standing in the hallway munching on Skittles.

"Just me. Huerh." Boog replied.

"Get out!" Squirt yelled, shoving Boogie's stomach as if to move him. This did nothing. Boogie didn't respond, instead choosing to simply chew his candy with a confident expression. Squirt tried again, but Boogie's fat was simply too much to move.

"What, you just decided to sneak into a girl's room?" Boogie asked. "That's not very nice, Squirt."

"You're an asshole." Squirt replied, resorting to kicking Boog in the belly, which, again, accomplished nothing.

"No, Squirt, like..." Boogie began, swallowing. "Ya gotta learn to be nice. A gentleman knocks before entering."

"You didn't knock!" Squirt rebutted.

"I didn't enter. Huergh." Boogie quacked.

"Alright, both of you, OUT!" Keira demanded, kicking Squirt from behind and sending him stumbling onto Boogie, shoving the obese monstrosity back far enough for Keira to slam the door shut, locking both of them out.

"You did it now, Boog." Squirt complained.

"Uh, Squirt, no. That was your fault!" Boogie argued.

Meanwhile, Richard searched for Par. He checked the kitchen, where Dent and Chey were talking, but he found nothing. He checked the dining room, which was inhabited by Bill and Cher, both of whom simply stared awkwardly at the floor. Again, nothing. He searched the living room, only to find Nnam and Walker enjoying a nice gaming session. Finally, he started checking the bedrooms. He was confused to find Par sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms, snoring softly and comfortably wrapped in blankets. All of the blinds were down, and Par had nailed blankets to each window to block out the sunlight.

"Wake up, ye sausage!" Richard demanded. After a moment, Par twitched silently. "Go on, then!"

Richard poked Par's leg with a fork, which caused him to let out an "AEEH!" noise. After Richard began shouting more profanities at him, he regained consciousness.

"About time." Richard commented. "You were awake earlier... what happened!?"

"These aren't my operating hours." Par replied. "A nap seemed reasonable."

"Well, unfortunately, these are everyone else's operating hours." Richard explained.

"Everyone else gets their news from the TV set." Par said with a disgusted tone in his voice.

"Yes, but you drink hot sauce." Richard argued.

"That is no relevance to the situation." Par replied.

"I wouldn't say that." Richard responded. "Anyways, we need to discuss our next course of action.

"Of course."

"In order to avoid what happened last time, we'll need to reduce the number of other sausages involved in our operation." Richard stated.

"Not sure how Keira would react if we just killed her friends." Par commented.

"No, not that." Richard replied. "We simply need to incapacitate those who aren't aware of our plans while we acquire the cheese."

"I'm sure Walker has a way to do that." Par added.

"Exactly my thinking. Now, as far as getting there, we'll fabricate a story about wanting to go eat at the cafe or something like that, and then we'll send someone in to figure out where their cheese might be located. If nobody else has eaten it, it must not be a popular choice, so we might have to fight to get into the back, like we did at Blake's shop." Richard continued.

"Good to have someone scope it out before we rush in like last time." Par replied.

"While someone does that, the rest of us will remove the others from the equation. Once that's done, we consult with whoever goes in there, and then we acquire the cheese, and Keira, and wait for the Cheesemonger to beam us out." Richard added.

"Seems reasonable enough." Par replied. "What if we take to long getting the cheese, and the others wake up?"

"Well, we just knock them out again!" Richard shrugged. At this point, Boogie entered the room.

"Hey, guys, I got something to tell ya.." Boog began.

"Not now, Boog!" Richard replied, annoyance in his voice. With that, Par finally got out of bed, and the three of them met up with Nnam and Walker, who were still gaming. They appeared to be playing one of the Bordelands games, although the others didn't really notice. Both of them were on one of the larger couches, but they were soon made uncomfortable when Boogie sat down on the couch too. The seat beneath him sank in violently, and Boog took up a massive amount of room.

"Go eh-way." Walker muttered.

"Boog, get your own fuckin' couch." Nnam complained.

"Hey Nnam!" Boogie announced, procuring a small cookie from his pants. "Wanna get creampied? Huerh HEYUEEEH!"

"Dude, you're so fucking gay." Nnam responded. Suddenly, the game switched off of the screen. Instead, the local news station was now being displayed. Chey was standing behind the couch with a remote in her hand, grinning confidently at the TV. Nnam simply sighed, got up, and walked away. "I'll just go play a PC game."

"You're a whore." Walker addressed Chey, who suddenly gasped.

"What!?" Chey asked.

"It's his way of complimenting you, baybaaaaaay." Dent entered the room. Chey clearly did not believe this, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"If so, then please tell him to find an appropriate, non-vulgar means of complimenting me!" Chey stormed off.

"Dent, she's a whore." Walker stated.

"Nao nao naaaao, beybaaah, she's a really nice person. Just gotta get to know her!?" Dent said.

"Oh, like you get to know the other women?" Walker asked.

"Naaaao, baybeh... it wasn't like that. She's a married kink, bibeh." Dent replied.

"That's an odd occurrence." Richard stated, paying mind to the local news.

"Reports suggest that a man dressed in the armor of a 13th century knight is currently residing in Sharon. The suspect is believed to have brutally injured several civilians, two of them criminals. Police request that all persons who spot this vigilante-like suspect report to the local authorities immediately."

"The craziest shit just seems to follow us around." Par commented.

"Anyways, we should find Bill and Cher." Richard commented. With that, the four of them, plus Dent's women, made their way into the dining room. Cher and Bill were both sitting at the table, and they both seemed... inactive. Cher sat in one chair and rested her legs on another, staring at her cell phone and using her headphones. She had a generally uninterested expression, except for the occasional grin that would be induced by something amusing on her device. She seemed to be in a "zone," as if she were disconnected from the rest of the world.

Bill sat up straight, formally resting his hands on his knees. His coat was now on properly, his sleeves were buttoned up nicely, and the collar of his coat was pushed out proudly. Most noticeably, though, was his face. His mouth and nose were covered by a small dinner plate, which was strapped to him by several of Cher's hair bands. As the group arrived, he didn't face them, instead choosing to continue staring at the table.

"Bill, wat the fack is that?" Boog asked.

"Nobody cared who I was until I put on the mask." Bill stated.

"Another Bane cosplay." Par explained, and Richard sighed. Cher, who was still in her "zone," didn't hear any of them. Richard proceeded to toss a wad of paper at her, and it took her approximately five seconds to react. She took off one headphone, turning her head to face the group with an almost drunk expression.

"Hey." She muttered.

"Alright, sausages. Par knows the plan. He'll explain things while I keep the others busy." Richard exited, making sure that Nnam and the others didn't enter the dining room.

"So, what is this... plan?" Bill asked, his voice clearly modified by the plate covering most of his face. His eyes never moved.

"Well, first off, Walker, what's the best way to knock someone out?" Par asked, and, with that, the plan was formulated. Each of them knew their parts, and each of them knew to keep quiet about it. When it was done, Boogie chimed in.

"Hey, Par, I got somethin' to tell ya..." Boogie began.

"Not now, Boogie!" Par shooed Boog away. "Ah, yes, Bill." Par caught the humanoid toilet's attention. "You have a very important part to play in the mission. So, even though I know you don't usually get along with people, can you please try to avoid causing any... problems... in the cafe? We don't need any extra attention from anyone, even if they're being annoying, so, please, don't provoke anyone. Can you do that, Bill?"

"Of course." was Bill's response.

A couple of days passed before the group's plan moved into action. During this time, Richard and Par put more detail into their plan, Dent became closer to Chey, and Boogie continued to hang out with Nnam, despite Mr. Nice's objections. After two more dinners of "whatever Chey wanted," Chey finally stated that she planned to eat out that evening.

The group filled the living room and waited for everyone to be in the same area. Once that happened, Bill began with his proposition.

"Sharon! Take control... take control of your ice cream." Bill said dramatically. The hood of his jacket was now covering his head, and he maintained his stiffened posture.

"Wut?" Squirt asked.

"I require ice cream. Where is the best place to get it?" Bill asked. Nobody responded. "Are you kidding me!?"

"I do believe Keira is the local resident here." Richard said "casually."

"Hmm?" Keira inquired.

"Ice cream!" Bill smashed a table nearby. "Where to get it?"

"Um, there's a cafe I go to that has good ice cream." Keira replied.

"Good!" Bill squawked. "Let us go there."

"Would be nice to eat something different for once." Richard added.

"Das right, beyboys. We can get some smexily dexy ice cream and some smexily dexy dinner!" Dent proposed.

"Sure." Chey added. Just like that, she was ready to leave the house.

"Well, you were certainly convinced easily." Richard commented.

"I like ice cream." Chey replied. "We've gone there before. Why not? Come on, Nnam."

"Fine." Nnam replied, closing his laptop lid and grabbing a beanie from a rack nearby. He put it on and hid most of his hair.

"You've got to be kidding me." Squirt commented. "We're going out in public with THESE people?"

"Huergh. Squirt is embarrassed of us." Boogie slobbered.

"If I said you were wrong... I would be." Squirt commented.

"Waaaaaat?" Boogie asked. Squirt simply looked aside. Within a few minutes, Chey had entered into her "nice" clothes and prepared for their trip to get ice cream.

"This seems too easy." Richard said to Par.

"Maybe we're just that good at planning things." Par muttered.

"I don't like this plan, baybays." Dent joined them. "Too much room for kank. The kinks aren't gonna be happy if they found out."

"Too bloody bad, then." Par replied. "It's time to get this shit done." With that, the two groups entered their vehicles.

"Mr. Nice!" Walker caught Nnam's attention. "Do be an aspiring gentleman and park behind the cafe, will you? We are fugitives, after all."

"Uh... sure." Nnam replied. With that, the Honda was off, and the Jeep soon followed.

Chapter 36: The Freshest Man Alive (The Storm) Edit

The hour was now 8:24 PM. There had been a storm earlier, but the rain had now ceased. Still, the pavement was covered in water, and the cars splashed through puddles every few seconds. When the two cars arrived, they parked behind their destination. There were hardly any others nearby, and there was a small hill with a pathway leading up to the cafe. A black fence also protected the property, going along with the theme of the establishment that was Keira's favorite place to socialize. Halloween events were often hosted there, as well as other random community events. Many others were inside, but all of the other cars were parked in the front. The windows were covered in moisture and not much could be seen from their parking spots.

As they exited their vehicles, the group waited until Nnam, Chey, Squirt, and Keira were ahead of them. Then, Par, Walker, Richard, and Dent suddenly lunged forward. Walker quickly stuck a small dart into Keira's neck. Richard did the same with Squirt. Par went for Nnam, but Mr. Nice somehow noticed what was happening. He turned around quickly and instinctively jammed his fist into Par's face, knocking the supposed vampire back.

At this point, three things happened: First, Squirt and Keira panicked, falling to the ground violently. Keira yelled something about rapists. Second, Dent became distracted by Nnam's blow to Par, rendering his attempt to dart Chey useless. Then again, Dent never wanted to dart Chey to begin with. Third, Bill casually walked past them and onto the path to the cafe while fiddling with his pockets to procure money for an ice cream cone.

Squirt and Keira had now fallen unconscious, and Nnam and Chey were backed into a defensive state. Boogie, on the other hand, procured a container of mixed nuts and began munching on them, enjoying the drama. Cher could have easily taken this moment to flee the scene, but she remained with them, watching it all go down.

"What the fuck's going on!?" Nnam demanded.

"Oodian darts." Walker explained. "Quite effective at temporarily incapacitating a victim."

"Really, guys?" Chey asked. "What is this all about?" Despite her usual confident tone, she was clearly nervous, as she clenched onto the cloth of his dress with one hand and her eyes were widened and fixed on Dent.

"It's nothing personal, I assure you." Par straightened himself up, annoyance in his voice as he began regaining his composure after being punched by Nnam. Despite his reflexes, he didn't expect the attack from Mr. Nice and was caught off guard, leaving his nose bleeding. He did nothing about this, though, as he simply allowed the blood to run all over his mouth and onto his clothes.

"And, if we told you all the details, you wouldn't believe us anyways." Richard explained.

"You were supposed to be unconscious for this whole thing, beybeys. That was the easiest way to isolate you from the kink." Dent added. "Chey baybay, you trust me, right? You know I'd never do anything to harm you."

"I'm not really sure if I trust anyone right now." Chey stated.

"Don't worry, this is pretty much normal for them." Cher added. Chey didn't respond, and Cher's words only seemed to anger her.

"I thought we were friends, Richard." Nnam grumbled. "Now you guys try to abandon me... again!? What the fuck!?"

"I'm your friend! Huergh." Boogie added.

"We aren't here to make friends, Mr. Nice." Par commented.

"I'm afraid we're currently on a very important mission." Richard added. "We didn't want to kill or otherwise harm you lot, so we opted for knocking you out instead. Unfortunately, you resisted." With that, Richard procured his hidden pistol.

"Whoa, what is that for? You just said you don't want to hurt us." Nnam replied angrily.

"This is simply for insurance." Richard replied. "I'm only making sure you don't try anything. You think I'd just shoot someone? Hahahaha."

As this occurred, Bill entered the cafe. Another man, also wearing a hoodie, entered shortly after. Inside the shop was a section for ice cream and a section for food. Bill, of course, went for the ice cream, and the other man followed. There were two lines to the counter, and the other man joined the one adjacent from his. As Bill waited in line, he received several strange looks from others. True, there were four birds resting on his shoulders and five cats hanging onto him, plus he had a plate strapped to his face, but this was normal for Bill, after all. He managed to play it off.

"A man can't have a few pets?" He asked, giving the people staring at him a glare. He took a look at the other figure, but he couldn't see his face. He did notice that the man's hoodie was purple, though, as Bill was quite fond of this color himself. He continued in line, and Bill's group was slightly ahead of the other. When he reached the counter, he removed the plate. "Chocolate with chocolate brownies and chocolate fudge." Bill ordered, then waited. He handed the man at the counter the money for the snack.

"I'll have whatever's fresh." said the man in the purple hoodie.

"Excuse me, sir?" The server asked.

"Whatever's your latest batch of ice cream." The man replied. "Once things sit... they start to stink. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Is vanilla fine? We just made it." The server asked.

"Yes." was the man's response. At this point, Bill was handed his ice cream. Unfortunately, the man in the purple hoodie stuck his arm out to hand the server his money, and he bumped his elbow into Bill's arm, causing the almighty stinker to drop his ice cream onto the ground. "Oops." was all that he said. With that, the man was given his ice cream and he immediately walked away, as Bill stood there awkwardly. Normally anyone who did something like that to Bill would be dead, but this was a delicate situation.

"And what... what is this?" Bill stared at the ice cream smudged onto the floor.

"Can I get you something else, sir?" The server asked.

"Yes! I need you to replace my ice cream cone." Bill said.

"You want another ice cream? Same flavor?"

"No." Bill replied. "I need a replacement. I dropped mine on the floor!"

"Okay, but you're gonna have to pay if you want to buy another ice cream cone." The server stated.

"You have been supplied with a false system to stop you from giving out ice cream. Go on. Put the chocolate into the cone." Bill demanded. Meanwhile, the group was still bickering when there was a disturbance: the man in the purple hoodie arrived, ice cream in hand.

"Oh look, Bill's back." Par noticed.

"Finally. We can get this done, then." Richard commented.

"Wasn't his jacket tan?" Walker asked.

"Eh, this is Bill we're talking about." Par replied. "He probably just changed into another costume, right Bill?"

"Oh, but I'm not at all like the stench." The man said, dropping his ice cream onto the ground and slowly removing his hood. What was revealed was not Bill, but rather a man with short, frizzy brown hair and a clean shaven face. Not only that, but he was wearing an ash tray on his head like a helmet. "Some would say I'm the reverse."

"NOO!" Walker reacted, recognizing the man who had nearly killed him all those years ago. Every memory of the man reentered his mind, every strange piece of dialogue from the purple-shirted man flooding his brain. "CURSE YOU, SPODERMAN!" Walker proceeded to grab a bucket, which was made of plastic, full of grapes and tossed the grapes at the man. Unfortunately, all of the fruit simply froze in midair as the Reverse Stench held his arm out towards Walker. He turned to him slowly.

"Ahhh, I was both surprised and delighted to learn that you were traveling alongside the Stench, blue haired man. How long it has been since our last confrontation... I've had much time to develop a counter to your primary attack. It took me a while to realize, but... you see, your grapes are... fresh." With that, the Reverse Stench made a motion with his hand and the grapes were all sent flying at Walker, several of them lodging themselves up his nose, mouth, and ears. Walker was stunned.

"Get this kank outta here." Nnam stomped up toward the man, but he suddenly jerked to a halt when the Reverse twirled around.

"Metal....?" The Reverse began, seemingly lost for words. "Is that a stuffed duck?"

"Uh, no." Nnam said awkwardly, his crotch shoved against the object as his eyes widened uncomfortably.

"Do you have a stuffed duck inside your pants?" The Reverse asked.

"No, no! Definitely not!" Nnam insisted. The Reverse Stench inhaled deeply.

"This animal inside your pants... you're doing it wrong. I know because I am expert in this field." Suddenly, he reached into his own pants and procured the tail of a dead cat, followed by the entire corpse. He tossed it onto the ground in triumph. "Metal eyeballs!" With that, the Reverse summoned Nnam's stuffed duck into his hand, ripping a hole in yet another pair of Mr. Nice's pants.

"Oooooh!" Nnam groaned in frustration, and Chey suddenly let out a high pitched noise at the sight of the duck.

"Not this guy again..." Par said, realizing who he was dealing with. He had witnessed the Reverse Stench flip a truck over effortlessly.

"This duck smells terrible! It needs to be... freshened." Suddenly, the Reverse cupped his hand around the duck and some kind of purple magic enveloped it, removing any bad odor from the item. Then, he sent the stuffed animal flying back into Nnam's crotch, causing Mr. Nice to kneel down in pain.

"Alright, enough of this shit." Richard said, approaching the Reverse with his gun drawn. Without even looking, the Fresh Lord simply made a gesture with his hand and the gun suddenly dragged Richard's arm to the side.

"Metal gun." The Reverse stated as Richard's pistol forcefully fired a shot into Boogie's foot.

"AAAAAAEEEERGHHHH!!" Boogie cried out in pain as he fell over. "MY FOOT! OH MAH GAAAAWD! AAAAGH!" Then, Richard's gun was promptly slammed into his own face, stunning him. At this point, Par approached the attacker, but the Reverse had other plans.

"Metal earrings!" The Fresh Lord commanded as Chey's earrings were suddenly ripped from her and jammed into Par's nose. Chey screamed and Par made an awkward sound of pain as this happened.

"We've gotta end this kank. FOR THE KINKY GOODNESS! KINK KINK KIIINK!!!" Dent yelled, running toward the Reverse.

"Metal zipper!" the Reverse Stench ordered, taking control of Walker's bag once again and sending it flying over Dent and his women, trapping them inside. Then, he threw the bag's strap over Walker's neck and pulled him back, shoving the Oodian into the Jeep violently. Richard attempted to fire a shot at the Reverse, but the air master managed to stop the bullet in midair with only his mind.

"You're one sausagey, facky, kanky piece of filth, you know that?" Richard muttered.

"Filth smells." The Reverse replied in his usual monotone voice. "Things that smell must be freshened." He turned to Richard, waving his finger around as the bullet danced in the air toward Richard. "And we must leave no stench unfreshened." As he began directing the bullet at Richard, the Reverse was suddenly caught off guard. He had forgotten to dismantle all of the group members. "AH!" he exclaimed as Cher violently shoved a pepper into his nose. The bullet was halted, and the Reverse panicked. He struggled to pull the pepper out, instinctively swatting Cher aside. It did its damage, though, as he was forced to sneeze violently, twice. "I INHALLED A PEPPER-AAAAAAERGHHH!!"

"No...." Walker mumbled, dazedly watching everything go down. "It's all happening again... why... how did he find me..."

At this point, Keira and Squirt began reawakening. Unable to decipher what was happening, they were useless against the Reverse Stench. Luckily, though, Bill soon returned to the scene. He had no ice cream, but he marched confidently toward the group until he noticed what was happening. He ran toward them, realizing it was too late to stop what had happened.

"What is this!?" Bill demanded. The Reverse simply turned to face him in response, and a loud farting noise was heard. "No. Impossible."

"To be quite honest, none of you have to fear me... except you, Billy Plunder." The Reverse said, vibrating intensely.

"You killed cats! Murdered the innocent pussies... and now you attack my friends? For what? What have you gained, you dumbass!?"

"Freshness." The Reverse replied. "That is the purpose of my existence, after all... to clean up unpleasant odors."

"What does that have to do with killing kitties!?" Bill asked, demanding justice.

"The cats are merely a sport." The Reverse replied, pointing at the dead cat he had just displayed earlier. "You love, and cherish cats... so I must destroy them. I have been destroying everything you love your entire life, stench."

"What makes you think you can overcome MY stink?" Bill asked. "I am stench incarnate... only I control the flow of the air. No odor matches my own." Bill raised his arms, demonstrating his stench to all nearby.

"While it may be true, Billy, that your stench is the foulest on earth, there is one thing that your stink cannot beat: freshness." Suddenly, the Reverse's eyes briefly glowed purple, and some kind of cloud of energy formed around him. The entire gang could now smell the luxurious, desirable, fruity scents in the air.

"And this gives you... power... over me?" Bill asked.

"Yes." The Reverse said. "Yes it does, stench." Bill realized that his stink had been covered up... nobody was smelling his armpits anymore. All they smelled was the overpowering, almost toxic amount of freshness that was somehow produced by the Reverse. It was as if there were dozens of air fresheners sitting around, and someone had just sprayed a giant bucket of cleaner everywhere.

"Who are you...?"

"You know who I am, Billy." The Reverse's voice become slightly distorted and different from his usual.

"Your identity... is a mystery." Bill corrected. "I don't know who you are."

"But you do, Billy. We've have been at this a long time, you and I, stench, but I'm always one step ahead." The Reverse spawned a freakish grin.

"Enough!" Bill squawked. "Come forth, any boobies who will serve, for an army will be raised..." Bill held his hands out, and suddenly all of his pets emerged. His boobies took flight and began dropping bombs of feces onto the Reverse, who flinched when touched by the filth. "Attack, my pussies! March forward and take down this enemy!" With that, all five of Bill's cats lunged off of him and charged at the Reverse, who simply grinned as he procured a bottle of cleaner. One cat jumped at him, but he sprayed it in midair and the feline instantly went down. Somehow, he had weaponized the cleaner, and it burned like acid upon contact with anything impure.

Despite freshening one cat, the Reverse was caught off guard when the other four attacked him at once, clawing at him and dropping their own feces on him. He fell to ground, struggling to remove the creatures, when he had an idea.

"Metal zipper!" The Reverse returned to his normal voice, taking control of Walker's bag once more and opening it. "Metal motorcycle..." Despite being covered in cats, he seemed to take a great deal of pleasure from saying this, as he grinned when a Harley Davidson suddenly rocketed out of Walker's orange man purse. Without any assistance, the vehicle started up and began driving toward him, only its wheels weren't rolling on the ground... the motorcycle was lifted up into the air, just high enough to run over the Reverse Stench without actually running over him... if that makes any sense. The vehicle smashed the cats, crushing all but one survivor.

"No!" Bill squeaked at the horror of his cats being butchered. The Reverse stood up and nearly attacked the last cat, but Bill's birds dive-bombed more feces onto his head, angering him severely. Before he could react, Bill charged into battle. "BAAAARE STENCH! REEEEUAAARGH!" Bill attacked, but his opponent was now prepared. Before the almighty stinker could deal any damage, his face was sprayed with the contents of the bottle of cleaner, which left a burning, lemon-scented splash of liquid on his face. Bill immediately fell to the ground, weakened by the pleasant smells. "AAAARGH! IT BURNS! WHAT IS THIS!?"

"That is the power of true freshness..." The Reverse declared. "One drop of my formula and the flesh of any stench lord will begin to decay. You can't win, stench. The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

Suddenly, there was a disturbance. Across the street, a lone man walked casually alongside the road. This man was hearing a unique getup -- he wore the gear of a 13th century knight. Boasting an entire set of metal armor complete with a shield and a steel broadsword, the only thing normal about his outfit was the red and black backpack he wore with the word "Noah" written on it. The man had observed the battle of the air for a few moments before finally reacting.

"Ah, combat!" The knight announced, waving his sword into the air and charging forward. Luckily for the group, he seemed to be on Bill's side, as his first target was the Reverse Stench. Seeing the knight approaching, the fresh lord reacted..


"No!" The knight replied, jamming the hilt of his sword into the Reverse's jaw and knocking him back. "You have no place here, wizard. What are you, some kind of superhero cosplayer? Abusive and unoriginal. What a winning combination."

Suddenly, the knight was sent flying through the air as he yelled in frustration.

"Oh, you think I have to say 'metal' every time I want to move something around?" The Reverse laughed. "No... that's just for added fun. Metal sword!" With that, he summoned the knight's blade to his own hand and smirked before he noticed one of the boobies approaching him. He promptly sprayed it with the cleaner, effectively taking out the bird. Then, he swung the sword at the last remaining cat, ending it. Angered by this and having recovered, Bill procured the Ood stick from his belt and promptly jammed it into the Reverse, knocking aside the bottle.

"You think weapons are your ally!" Bill coughed. "But you merely adopted dueling. I was born doing it! Raised with it. I never saw fistfights until I was already a man, and by then all I needed was my stink!" Bill threw the stick forward twice, only to find that the Reverse side-stepped each attempt. The fresh lord raised his blade and swung forward, moving with finesse and precision. Bill parried with the Ood stick, but his tactics were blunt and slow. The Reverse sliced Bill on the chin before taking a step back.

"You can't beat me with that fighting style, stench." The Reverse declared. "Go on, change your personality."

"No. I can't!" Bill complained.

"It isn't that hard. You can do it, stinker. Channel those powers of yours." The Reverse grinned, egging Bill on.

"Aaaaerugh!" Bill swung the Ood stick forward in anger, but his attack was blocked and allowed the Reverse to cut Bill's leg with ease.

"You have to change, stench. Choose your personality."

Bill paused, staring at the ground as sweat began to cover his glasses. Suddenly, he closed his eyes and meditated. Then, he huffed and puffed, breathing heavily before releasing his energy in a loud scream.

"WHUAAAAAAAAH!" Bill's fish-like voice returned, as he swooped around with one leg and swung the Ood stick toward the Reverse quickly and effectively. The slash was countered, but Bill began advancing, his blade work wild and unexpectedly overwhelming. Even the Reverse Stench looked surprised as Bill suddenly moved about with the skills of an experienced swordsman, but the fresh lord grinned with satisfaction as he realized that Bill had channeled more of his energy. Still, the bringer of foul odor managed to overpower the Reverse and disarm him, only to be swung back into the dirt forcefully.

"Metal buttons." The Reverse declared with another sinister smile. Bill growled in response. Suddenly, the Reverse took a few steps back and flung his arms down violently. "Spoderman.... spoderman..... spooodermaaan..... spoderman! SPODA-MAYEEAAAAAAN!!!" the Reverse yelled in a high-pitched voice. Before Bill could react, Walker did.

"CURSE YOU, SPODERMAN!" Walker screamed, panicking and running toward his nemesis in a wild frenzy, abandoning his traditional march and pacing forward.

"Metal sword!" The Reverse ordered, levitating the broadsword and flinging it toward the blue-haired man. Luckily, he managed to block the attack with his man purse as the blade was impaled through the bag, leaving a large hole in it. and throwing Walker back. The Reverse then launched some sort of webbing at the Oodian, trapping him on the ground. The goo seemed to have spawned out of some mechanical device on the Reverse's wrist. This gave Bill enough time to prepare...

"Spidaman.... spiderman.... spidaman.... SPIDA-MAAAAYEEEEAAAAN!" Bill summoned additional abilities, pulling out a large strand of boogers and launching it at his opponent - the Reverse shot it out of the air with his own webbing.

"Too slow, stench." The Reverse stated, flinging a series of web piles at Bill, who desperately caught them and began throwing them back. One or two hit the stinker on the shoulder, but he blocked most of the hits, casting them back in counter attacks. At this point, they were just exchanging webbing, but eventually Bill was hit in the face with a pile of it. He flew back in agony, clawing at the goo and dragging it off of his face.

"Bullshit-ah!" Bill complained.

"It burns, doesn't it, stench?" the Reverse scoffed. "Of course my ammunition is laced with cleaning agents."

At this moment, Bill resorted to his most powerful attack. He dipped his hand in his own armpit and channeled some kind of energy before throwing his hand forward and blasting a green wave at the Reverse, who quickly fired his goo to absorb it. Recognizing the danger of this tactic, the fresh lord went to action.

"Metal gun!" The Reverse ordered hurriedly, firing a bullet from Richard's pistol into Bill's leg. Bill staggered back a bit, but was relatively unaffected.

"Hahaha. Did you forget? I'm a heartless bitch." Bill grinned.

"Ahhh, a wise choice of personality, stench. Maybe you have learned a thing or two from our last confrontation, even if you didn't realize it." The Reverse grinned. He tried to use the gun again, but Richard was doing his best to jam the trigger.

Suddenly, Nnam regained enough confidence to attack the dreaded enemy. He ran forward, but the Reverse saw this coming...

"Metal eyeballs!" - this did nothing. Nnam promptly punched the Reverse Stench in the face, knocking him back.

"I got rid of that fucking thing, you fuckface!" Nnam yelled, but he suddenly stopped talking as the Reverse webbed him in the face three times, then his crotch. Nnam fell down in pain, again.

"Freshened." The Reverse said in relief, sighing and showing a sign of weakness for once. Then, Bill appeared behind him and locked his arms around the Reverse's neck, cupping his sweat-covered hands over the fresh lord's face. As Bill's stench entered the Reverse's nostrils, his eyes widened in horror and he spasmed chaotically, flailing his arms around wildly until he managed to fling web into Bill's face, disarming the walking garbage can. Both of them fell aside, extremely weakened from their battle, but it was far from over. Neither of them were going to give up, and the Reverse was only now angered by the stench. "What a horrible odor!"

"That is the true power of bare stench-ah." Bill replied.

"Really?" The Reverse asked with a blank expression. "Metal fence." he said calmly, merely flicking his finger as the black gate suddenly came crashing down onto the almighty stinker, smashing him against the ground and immobilizing him. Then, the Reverse began channeling more energy. His eyes glowed purple again and more farting noises occurred. Somehow, a burst of purple lightning appeared around the Reverse Stench and kept growing and growing... soon it enveloped his entire person, crackling and bouncing all around him. Just as Bill freed himself from the gate, the Reverse proceeded to launch a large arc of electricity at him. The blast erupted in a flash as sparks flew in all directions. Bill was sent flying back into the crashed gate, and his hairdo was now extremely unfashionable. "Electric fresh." The Reverse said in a very satisfied tone.

Before the Reverse could advance, though, he was met with yet another obstacle - the Ood stick was jammed into him from behind by a very dazed Walker, who spat out the last bit of the webbing that was flung into his face.

"I've met many pricks in my day, but you, sir, are a fucking cactus." Walker declared, but not before the Reverse sat up and flicked his head toward him - suddenly, the metal ash tray helmet flew off of the fresh lord's head and knocked Walker in the face, stunning him yet again.

At this point, Squirt and Keira had regained full consciousness, but they had simply been watching in horror as the air master tore apart the group members. Chey, Cher, and Par were also watching, waiting to see if they could do anything to help. Boogie was still crying on the ground about his foot, and Dent was just now using the newly-made hole in Walker's orange bag to crawl out of it with his women. Squirt and Keira finally decided to try and make a run for it, and they did the only thing they knew to do - find the Honda. The two of them made a run for it, but the Reverse Stench didn't ignore this.

"Metal car!" The Reverse grinned as he flipped the vehicle over, smashing it upside down into the concrete and rendering it useless. Bill had now regained enough strength to stand, and he had the appearance of a wrestler coming up after being taken down multiple times. He stubbornly ignored his pain and attempted to attack his opponent, but the Reverse quickly swooped around and threw Bill's hand aside. Another attempted blow, dodged. A kick - sidestepped. Two more punches - blocked. Whatever Bill threw at the Reverse, the purple man continued to find ways to counter it. He moved with increased speed, and purple lightning trailed his arms as he flung them around wildly, displaying some out of nowhere martial arts abilities.

Once Bill lost his stamina, the Reverse went on the offensive - the air master began rapidly punching Bill, sending blow after blow after blow into the master of stench. Then, he proceeded with three supercharged crosses to the face, followed by a kick to the gut and a headbutt.

"Metal sword!" The Reverse summoned the broadsword again, only this time he showed no mercy. He slashed Bill in the leg to disable his footing before violently slicing him in the face. He then kicked his opponent to the ground. "Not fast enough, stench." He declared. "It is your destiny to lose to me, stench, just like it was your cats' destiny to die tonight. Oh, but you have more precious pets at home, don't you? Yessss, these are only temporary replacements. How will you react when I freshen your poor kittens in your bed? It is inevitable."

"No..." Bill moaned in defeat, bloodied and bruised.

Suddenly, the Reverse's grin disappeared as Nnam and Par tackled him, holding him in place and preventing him from speeding away.

"You're pretty fast... you must wank all day or something." Par remarked.

"Let's kill this bitch." Nnam said. Before the Reverse could escape, he was then met with a metal fist to the face as the knight pounded him harshly.

"Stop right there, you orange-toed hooligan!" the knight shouted in triumph. Angered, the Reverse Stench suddenly vibrated violently and used up a lot of his energy to bring forth a large burst of freshness, creating a shockwave that knocked the three of them back.

"That's it! No more stinkers!" The Reverse declared, brushing himself off and vibrating enough to somehow cleanse himself of the various types of feces plastered on his jacket. He sighed in relief and exhaustion. Before he could do anything else, though, Bill reappeared. With a small twig in hand, Bill suddenly cast a burst of green light at the Reverse. This attack dramatically affected the fresh lord, who was sent flying back.

"Accio stink!" Bill summoned more magic, blasting bolts at his opponent repeatedly. Finally, he let forth a massive burst of energy. "AVADA KEDAVRA!!!!" The Reverse absorbed some of it with his lightning, but he was still weakened majorly by the blow.

"Stench magic... how?" The Reverse muttered. He gazed at the stick. "I need to get me one of those." He managed enough speed to jump up and dodge a blow from Bill, giving him the opportunity to web the stinker in the arm and subdue his onslaught. Injured and outnumbered, the Reverse was finally given reason to retreat.

"Metal sword. Metal zipper!" He claimed the knight's sword and Walker's bag, both of which he now held on his person. "Just so we're clear, after I freshen you, I'm going to freshen all of your pets. And then I'm going to freshen all of your friends. I always win, stench." With that, he charged enough speed to begin pacing away, leaving a trail of purple energy behind him. Bill wasn't done, though. He managed to stand up and slowly walk toward the Reverse, who was speeding down the road.

"Aeagh." Bill fired a bolt of energy. It missed. "Aaaaergh!" Bill tried again. It missed. "AAAAAAAAAEEEEEEUGH!!!" With one last, desperate attempt, Bill launched an excessive amount of magic at the Reverse Stench's direction, but, again, it fell short of its intended victim. The small dot of purple slowly disappeared into the distance, and Bill fell over unconscious.

"So! Anyone hungry?" Cher asked with a smile. The rest of them found no words, not even Dent. Everyone sat or lied down, except for the knight, who stood in a stiff position. Thunder echoed in the distance; yet another storm was about to roll in. Rain drops fell at an increased speed, and group found no energy to take cover. Nobody spoke for the next thirty minutes.

Chapter 37: Overwatch Edit

The night was no less bleak at the Grand Cheese Palace, where brightness was utterly absent throughout the area except for the yellow-orange aura which was produced by the massive orb of cheese which sat atop the tower. Fog had rolled in, and, if not for the tower's massive height, visibility would have been completely restricted.

The Palace sat atop a large formation of rocks, and behind it was a large, sealed off area protected by large stone walls. It was only open at one location, which was about sixty yards wide. As the rocks met with the sea, or lake, or whatever body of water occupied the area, a large wooden dock was stationed at the edge of the rocks. The dock was three stories tall and had several different compartments, all filled with large boxes and containers. Several of the containers were kept in cooling machines, which were powered by a generator nearby. Dairy products had to be temperature controlled, after all.

A Swiss Cheesian strolled through the bottom floor of the docks, holding a clipboard and checking off information as he passed the crates until, suddenly, he stopped.

"Blue this." He said, stuffing the clipboard in a pouch and stomping off angrily.


Outside, several crows flew about the palace, but a particular flock of them made their way into a small compartment of the palace's outer walls. Despite the heavy armor boasted by the home of the Cheesians, there were small, precise holes in it designed specifically for these corvids. As one group of them entered one section, another departed out of a separate compartment, with many more entering and exiting alike through various passages, like wasps coming and going from their nest. In fact, the very room they entered into was the one known as "The Nest." Inside were several massive sections of organized crows, which were feeding, resting, fighting, and, most commonly, delivering information. Once a flock of crows entered, one would make its way into a passageway that led to the Directory, while the other would return to the nest. The nest was complete with plenty of flying room in the air, along with dozens of walkways for the crows each of them being anywhere from five to fifty feet long. The birds marched and flew from place to place, not one ever faltering from this routine.

Beyond the actual nesting area and further within the palace was a larger area, barely lit with dim red lights hanging far above from a distant ceiling that was complete with chains, armor, weapons, and other artifacts hanging around. No one would notice these, though, as the unusually high ceiling allowed for something twice as tall as Gravy Bones to fit inside. Across the walls were large chandeliers with equally grim red lights, and a large rug ran through the center of the room, which was also red. Centered perfectly in the area stood an oddly-shaped throne, which was made of some kind of ancient, rustic metal and coated in what appeared to be a texture that was made of feathers.

A few stray crows flew about the room, as well as the flock that had just entered, minus the one that would soon be seeing Lord Cheddar. Several large couches were present in the room, as well as a few artifacts on display, along with several maps of Europe and the world in general. The maps had a bit more to them, though. Some were tattered or torn, even missing halves. On them were what seemed to be war plans and marked locations of battalions, forts, outposts, allies, enemies, and important battles that had taken place.

There was a main door to this area, but one would first have to make it through two sections of business quarters to get there. These extra sections had several small, closed off rooms with tables and chairs. To the right of the main room were two sections: one of them mostly filled up with weapons, and the other practically empty, which was used for dueling and sparring sessions.

The armory room featured several metal contraptions, some torture devices, and many knives. Most of all, though, were the swords. Several scimitars rested on a rack on the wall, many of their hilts engraved with some horrifying designs of war birds, while an entire bucket of rapiers with black hilts, mostly resembling those of the renaissance, sat comfortably near a large work table. On the table were some unfinished swords, mostly sabres, and a few cabinets were home to very old looking swords of various designs, several of them definitely battle worn and no longer efficient for combat. Most prominently, though, were three sets of dual cutlasses on display on a small metal rack. Each set was a bit different, but they were all larger than traditional cutlasses, and their hilts were completely black and devoid of color, while their blades were a sharp, darkened steel. The arm-guards were small and round, but efficient enough, and the blades were engraved with text from some unknown language. The words themselves were red and somehow glowed slightly in the darkness of the Nest.

To the left of the main area were two more sections: a meditation room and another area that was blocked off. The meditation room featured several orbs and artifacts recovered over the years, but the closed off room was blocked off with a large rope of chains. Suddenly, a figure exited the meditation room: Lord Crow himself. He stood and walked about like a humanoid, and he wore a large black robe with red designs on it, but his hands were almost singular, his fingers squeezed together tightly and covered in feathers. Despite this, a sharp talon accompanied each "finger," making his hand form into some kind of weapon when he merged his fingers together. His arms rested plainly beside him, but, judging by the strange design of his robes, he could stretch them out to form large wings if he so desired. His head was positioned like that of a human, but his "hair" was rather a consistent series of fine feathers that almost resembled fur of some sort. His eyes were simply two red gateways to hell, and his beak stretched out about eight inches. His beak was almost "battle worn" as well, boasting several large marks or "scars." In general, his head was more like an actual crow's, but his body resembled a human enough to confuse anyone first encountering the legend.

As Lord Crow stood next to his throne, one crow from the recent flock flew toward him and landed in his palm. After exchanging some kind of mental connection, the crow flew off and Lord Crow looked aside.

"Swiss." He muttered, pacing out of his room and swatting his door aside.


Meanwhile, in the Cheese Council, most of the High Cheese Lords had gathered in their respective seats, save for Lord Havarti and Lord Cheddar, who were obviously required elsewhere.

"Now, let us get on with it, then." Maroni stated. "Lord Ricotta, Lord Feta, and Lord Goat have returned." A few enthusiastic murmurs could be heard.

"A-verah well." The Monger declared, and, without hesitation, Cheese Lords Ricotta, Feta, and Goat entered the Council. Ricotta was a yellowish white color, and he was a young, well-designed figure. On his head were several piles of pepper to form a small patch of "hair," and he grinned confidently as he entered. Lord Feta, on the other hand, sported a rather emotionless expression. Nobody was quite sure whether he was cheerful, concerned, or outright terrified. He had an intense stare that none of the Cheesians desired to meet with their own eyes. Well, he was also a bit tough to look at... he was, after all, the most pale of all of the Cheese Lords. A stark, blinding white color, Lord Feta tried to make himself a bit easier on the eyes with a headband made of lettuce and a jacket complete with large formations of croutons, but it was no easy task. Lord Goat was also a pale Cheesian, but he was a more simple shade of white. He seemed irritable and dejected in general, but his eyes were alert and he was definitely paying attention. An older Cheesian, his features were complete with wrinkles, drooping eyes, and, most noticeably, two large, gray horns that protruded neatly from his head. Oh, and he had a large gray beard.

"It is our pleasure to have you back, Cheese Lords." Monterey Jack stated.

"Of course." Lord Ricotta responded. His Italian accent made his voice quite unique, although it was nothing like Maroni's.

"Get on with it! We don't have all day. And we have to listen to Maroni speak after this!" Grilled Cheese Gordon complained.

"Verah well." Feta spoke. He had a calm, almost soothing voice, but there was also a statement of intellect and wit in the way he talked. "As veteran Cheesian ambassadors, I assure you that Ricotta, Goat, and I have exceeded expectations with our progress. Not only has the Grain King agreed to our new proposal, but he has also instructed his followers to inspect the areas where the Holy Cheese shipments were accidentally taken. As you all know, the Kingdom of Wheat is very influential and has many connections with consumers. They have bakeries near the locations named, so efficiency is quite possible."

"Good mammoth cheese." Lord Swiss said.

"Good mammoth cheese!" Lord Colby Jack added.

"Good mammoth cheese." Lord American spoke.

"Good mammoth cheese for us all." Mozzarella clapped.

"Indeed, good mammoth cheese!" The Monger declared, and the Cheesians seemed upbeat.

"Lord Ricotta." Maroni spoke. "Did you complete the task with which I entrusted you, Cheese Lord?"

"Of course." Ricotta answered. "Communication with the Meat Dynasty was attempted, but no contact was made."

"It seems the Dynasty is mistreating the Wheat as well... what leads them to such obscurities?" Lord Colby Jack asked.

"We can only assume that the Meat Dynasty is preparing for war! Their ships are approaching, slowly but surely." Mozzarella declared. "Captain Asiago has already had several close encounters! Even Maroni recognizes the danger."

"With all due respect, Mozzarella, which isn't saying much, the Meat Dynasty has been troublesome for many centuries. Let us not forget the Cannibal Takeover, during which the Dynasty went rogue and had to be stomped on by Cheesar himself." Provolone explained.

"Times have changed, Provolone." Maroni began. "As much as we can all agree that your historical knowledge is greater than that of any other Cheese Lord, I am the minister of communications. I have spoken with the Meat myself, and their statements are most troubling."

"I assure you, I did my best to explain our respectable position to the Dynasty." Lord Swiss added.

"Hargh! You probably pulled out your cheese stick and waved it around like a bullswisser! That is what kind of cheese you are, isn't it? A swisser?" Queso interjected.

"How DARE you!?" Swiss squawked. "What has gotten into you, Queso!?"

"Oh, how I've missed the Cheese Council." Lord Feta mumbled.

"Queso, calm down." The Monger instructed. "There is no need for such vulgarity." Queso wanted to reply, but was interrupted.

"If I do remember correctly, my Monger, you referred to Maroni as a bullswisser not long ago!" Mozzarella complained.

"How are your sales doing, Mozz?" The Monger asked. "Hopefully your last punishment hasn't interfered with your production."

"Profit is merely a fraction of my goals." Mozzarella spoke coldly. "Your unjustified, uncheesious ban on my sales was a temporary, minor, small, itsy-bitsy setback to my progress. I assure you, my plans remain unchanged."

"HINARAUH!" Queso yelled, slamming his palms onto the table to hoist himself up into a standing position. This shook the room and took quite some time. "I have had... enough... of the pointless diplomacy! Let us cease our inferior tactics of trying to smear butter on the Meat and respond in kind to their outrageous actions." Queso began slamming his fist onto the table as he spoke. "Let us make use of my queso cannons, and BLOW..." -slam- "THEM..." -slam- "AWAY!"

"Queso, pleeease." Gouda began. "Why are you always so violent?"

"Violence, at times, is necessary." Parmesan added.

"Like when my cheese men were killed!?" Pepper Jack asked.

"Oh, please, enough with your puny cheese men!" Swiss continued.

"If I might interject..." Lord Goat spoke, chewing a blend of grass and cheese. "I have been gone for much time... never have I seen such an unstable council. We have received hostilities with foreign food forces... why do we bicker among ourselves?"

"While I agree that Cheesian affairs have grown much more divided than before we departed, I must say that conflict is necessary to progress forward with our policies." Ricotta added. "Arguments pave the way for changes."

"They also cause uproars and unnecessary squabbles." American said. "The consumers are at large, and the Meat is acting dangerously! We can solve our internal issues later."

"If we do not alter our leadership now, dairy may be doomed!" Mozzarella croaked.

"Indeed!" Parmesan said immediately. "I implore you, Monger... acknowledge our request for additional Lords to assist in your rule."

"The Monger won't see reason, but I agree. We must take control." Pepper Jack added.

"The Monger is surely having a hard time handling all of this on his own. Surely it would... speed up production... to allow others to rule, would it not, Monger?" Maroni asked.

"I have already declined this policy." The Monger stated. "I will not hear it again."

"This is no issue for the Monger to decide. If we deem him unfit, he is unfit!" Grilled Cheese Gordon spoke. "However, it is clear to me that he IS fit! And many Cheese Lords feel the same."

Suddenly, the Cheese Lords froze in their places. They looked to one of the side doors and stared, motionless.

"Greetings, Cheese Lords." said Lord Crow, entering in his steady pace. Lord Colby Jack cramped.

"Greetings, Lord Crow." The Monger nodded. "What brings you to our Council?"

"It has been seven months since you graced us with your presence, Crow." Provolone stated. "What has gone wrong?"

"Well, to be blunt, my crows have informed me that the consumers were attacked by a Fresh Lord." Crow stated, followed by a "tk tk" noise he made with his beak.

"A Fresh... Lord?" The Monger asked.

"Are you sure?" Provolone asked.

"Yes." Crow replied as he stepped forward, his feet making a bit of a clanking noise. "My crows do not lie."

"Has Lord Cheddar confirmed this report? Crow could be going mad with old age. The Fresh wouldn't dare interfere with Cheesian affairs." Lord American spoke. Crow instantly zipped his head around, without even moving his body an inch, to face him. Then, with his hands behind his back, he slowly stepped toward the Cheese Lord, whose yellow face started to melt a bit.

"I have lived for centuries. Surely, if I were to go mad, it would already have happened." Crow explained. "Are you not even cultured in my history?"

"Lord Crow sacrificed his species to make himself immortal." Mozzarella explained. "Yes yes, we all know the stories."

"The immortality was not what I had in mind. I needed the power to rise above mortality and destroy Blue, but that's a tale for another time." Crow stated, stepping right over American and looking him in the eyes. "But, yes, Lord Cheddar received the same crow report that I did. You are awfully suspecting for someone who is so gullible, American."

"So, if the Fresh is attacking the consumers, what does that mean for us?" Swiss asked.

"We should stamp out this puny air master and send him to my incinerator!" Queso suggested.

"No, Queso, nobody cares about your incinerator. Tway." Monterey Jack sighed, but was soon silenced by Colby Jack.

"The Fresh has not dared to engage Cheese for over four centuries. Why would they interfere in our affairs now?" Provolone asked.

"I stomped many Fresh Lords the last time they opposed us. There are hardly any of them left after what I did to them. Why they would engage us now, I do not know, and I do not think it is intentional." Lord Crow tapped the table twice and began pacing around it. "We happen to find ourselves in an interesting coincidence, Cheese Lords. The Holy Cheese was consumed by a Stench Lord. He is young and foolish, and has not tapped into much of his power yet, but we all smelled his stink in the Palace, and the Monger confirmed he deals in stench. Now, this is no coincidence... neither is the Holy Cheese's misplacement. Lord Havarti has felt a great disturbance in the essence of cheese. Someone is tampering with Cheesian affairs. I do not feel the presence of the Blue, but I do believe that the Ruffalo family could be interfering with the well-being of dairy."

"You stupid bird!" Lord Ricotta yelled. "You always blame the Ruffalo family for everything! I don't eat it. I don't eat it! You are blinded by emotions, you old monster." Suddenly, Mozzarella grabbed Ricotta, opened his nose a bit, and proceeded to gently shove a small dagger into it, barely scratching the Cheese Lord.

"What did I tell you about insulting Lord Crow!?" Mozzarella asked.

"Please excuse the language from my fellow Italian, Crow." Maroni spoke. "I assure you, he has simply become heated up."

"I have seen bullswissery of a much greater degree in my life, Maroni." Crow insisted, but he proceeded to shove his hand forward and, from his sleeve, a crow appeared and flew directly at Ricotta. It stationed itself comfortably on the Cheese Lord's shoulder. "My bird will keep you company. Now, I am prepared to deal with this Fresh Lord personally, but I would risk exposing myself."

"Save your strength, my lord." Mozzarella replied. "Leave the Fresh Lord to me."

"I can't say that I approve of that, Mozz." The Monger said. "I want that bullswisser alive. If he destroys the consumer and ruins their mission, I might have to raise the prices of cheese blocks by one quarter portion. I will not allow it! I want him handled carefully.

"I assure you, Monger, that Lord Mozzarella is fully capable of handling this task. He has a few connections, and I will use what is left of my influence to bring this bullswisser to cheesious justice." Maroni replied.

"Fair enough. If he acts improperly, it's on you. I am trusting you, Maroni." The Monger explained.

"Of course, Monger." Maroni replied.

"A-verah well. This meeting has run its course. I must speak with Lord Cheddar and Lord Havarti immediately. Crow, meet me in the throne room when I am done."

"It shall be done." Crow bowed and exited as the Cheese Lords began standing and removing themselves. Lords Mozzarella, Parmesan, Colby Jack, Pepper Jack, Monterey Jack, and Ricotta met in the Conference Room. As soon as they were alone, Ricotta snatched a dagger from Mozzarella, grabbed the crow from his shoulder, and quickly ended it, tossing the corpse to the ground.

"What were you thinking!?" Colby Jack asked. "You could've been incinerated!"

"One does not simply oppose Lord Crow." Monterey Jack added.

"Indeed. Why so aggressive, Ricotta?" Parmesan asked.

"Why so aggressive!? I'll tell you why - because you made me lie to Cheesians and Wheatmen alike, not to mention sabotaging communications between the Meat Dynasty and the Grain King."

"Silence!" Mozzarella ordered.

"Indeed, we should keep our voices down." Pepper Jack added.

"You were put up to the task, and you delivered. Stop being a fool about it. Do not forget that you are the least of us here." Mozzarella commented. "Need I remind you of how Ricotta cheese is made?"

"Ricotta cheese is one of the finest cheeses to exist!" Ricotta argued. "Don't forget your place, Mozzarella. You, Parmesan and I were the first to begin this venture. Our mutual friend holds me in high regards."

"Our mutual friend should not be brought up here." Mozzarella replied. "You are merely... leftovers. An after thought of our pure cheese. Ricotta cheese is expendable, but Mozzarella cheese makes pizza... pizza. It is also very popular in China."

"I don't give a blue about China!" Ricotta yelled. "I committed cheason for our cause, but I am failing to see the benefits. You said it was for the greater good of dairy, but it seems like all we're doing is destroying dairy!"

"We will bring good mammoth cheese to Cheesia, Ricotta." Pepper Jack stated. "I have full confidence in our progress."

Suddenly, Grilled Cheese Gordon entered. "You thought you could all run away? You thought I wouldn't follow you!?" Gordon marched in, carrying two large plates. "We all know you'll enjoy my sandwiches, so stop hiding and eat!"


Later, the Swiss Cheesian Officer stomped through several rooms within the Palace. He was in the business section, and he barged into one office where many Cheesians were working with paperwork or computers. He made his way into one specific office.

"Ah, Vincent!" A Cheesian greeted him.

"Is it done yet?" Vincent, the officer, asked.

"Our men took care of it. We appreciate the report."

"Do you realize what could have happened? Provolone cheese in the Pepper Jack section!? Customers would be unhappy... consumers would be outraged! We must organize better!" Vincent demanded. "Don't make me take this to the Council."

"My cheese, why would you do that!?" The Cheesian was startled. "After what happened with the shipment of butter a year ago, I can't afford another mishap! The councilors would replace me... I'd end up scraping up spilled noodles in the kitchens! Please... someone misplaced a crate. It wasn't the end of dairy, and it won't happen again."

"If it does, I will have no choice." Vincent replied. "I represent Swiss. My lord is a very methodical Cheesian, and he would not stand for this level of conduct. I trust him with the most delicate of information... if he hears of this, I will not deny it. Now, since your men have readjusted the crates, I'm going to finish my sign offs."

With that, Vincent returned to the docks. Many of the Cheesians working there had finished their shifts and gone on to their next tasks. Vincent, however, double-checked each crate to make sure they were all placed properly. He was nearly through when he came upon two Cheesians in cloaks standing in the farthest section. Light was scarce and Vincent was shrouded in darkness, but he could see through the cracks of moonlight that these figures were standing over a large container. The crate was opened and one of the figures was using some device to add something to its contents. After getting a better look, he realized that the box contained a shipment of the Holy Cheese itself.

"Are you done yet? We're supposed to make this quick. Get on with it!" One figure said.

"Yes, m'lord." The other Cheesian, who was doing the work, replied, speeding up his process. Vincent simply observed from the shadows.

"The benefactor won't be pleased if someone sees us. I refuse to take the blame for a slip up." The unnamed Cheese Lord said. Both of them were using low voices and Vincent couldn't make our who they were.

"Okay. It's been done, m'lord." The other Cheesian said, re-packaging the crate and closing its lid. Vincent tried to make out its number, but the figures blocked the path. "Where does it go again?"

"Right over there, you fool." The Cheese Lord turned and pointed directly at Vincent's area. He had to move if he was to avoid being seen. Quietly, he slipped around the corner and paced away.

Chapter 38: Scatter Edit

Richard wasn't quite sure what had just happened. At one moment, they were about to get the cheese and progress with their mission. Then, some guy controlling metal came and ruined everything. Par was bruised and his mouth was covered in blood. Dent was wobbling around. Keira and Squirt were horrified. Walker was in shock. Boogie was still screaming about his foot. Cher seemed to be taking everything pretty well, but she was still struck in the face. Nnam was confused and he was revealing a little too much where his pants had been ripped. Chey was just staring blankly at Nnam, and the knight was just standing about. Bill had been brutalized, and he was lying on the ground motionless. All of them were covered in rain and defeat.

"Are you all going to sit there, or shall we track down that turd-tosser and retrieve my sword?" The knight asked.

"Who are you, exactly?" Par asked, standing up.

"I am nobody. Just another character lost in this context." The knight replied.

"Says on his backpack that his name is Noah." Richard observed.

The knight turned to him, raising his helmet enough just to reveal his mouth. He simply muttered "MERGH." and put the helmet back in place. Par, whose hair was completely messed up, tried to use the knight's armor as a mirror to fix his appearance.

"I am a mirror. Come, EMBRACE YOURSELF!" Noah shouted.

"Well, I don't trust mirrors, and I need to shoot something." Richard aimed his pistol at Noah. who simply raised his shield in defense.

"Wait, he might be useful." Par added. "Besides, this dude was on the news. If we kill him, we'll attract even more attention." Ironically, sirens began screaming across the area. "Shiet."

"We need to get outta here, baybays." Dent said.

"Too many of us are in no condition to flee, I'm afraid." Richard noticed.

"I told you about Spoderman..." Walker muttered. "NOW DO YOU BELIEVE ME!?" The blue-haired man was on his knees staring into his reflection in a puddle on the ground.

"No time for that. The authorities are onto us." Par announced.

"No no no no no no no no no neaoo!" Squirt squawked. "I told you this would happen! We should have done something!"

"I don't think that would have gone much better..." Keira muttered.


"Everyone shut up!" Richard demanded as police cars began to surround the area. The cafe had been completely cleared out, and the authorities seemed to have completely secured the area. A blockade of vehicles formed in front of the group.

"We can't flee. We're obviously guilty. If we leave the others, we'll be screwed for sure." Par began.

"It's settled, then." Richard replied. "We fight."

Red and blue lights flickered across the group's faces. Officers began pouring out of their cars and pointing firearms at the group. Only Richard was armed.

"Drop the weapon!" An officer ordered.

"Why? Is it bothering you?" Richard grinned.

"Richard, has it ever occurred to you that you're a bit suicidal?" Par asked, backing away.

"In your own words, I'm too fond of myself for that." Richard replied.

"You're not exactly backing that up right now!" Par responded.

"Call headquarters. They might be able to assist." Richard said to Par.

"You're not calling anyone." Said a policeman who stepped forward, a gun in hand.

"And who are you, Mr. Graybeard?" Richard asked.

"Every year I've put on this uniform, somebody like you has tried to mouth off to me." The officer said. "And every time that happens, somebody's gotten shot."

"Well, looks like that's about to be you." Richard commented.

"No." Walker looked aside in horror. "No! Not more of them... NOT MORE BEARS!" Suddenly, one of the police cars was flipped over.

"What?" The officer looked behind him to see a horde of bears descending upon them.

"What in hell is th-eeyeaagh!" exclaimed another policemen who was quickly tackled by a bear. There were at least ten of the creatures, and they began tearing apart the authorities and their vehicles. Several policemen were slaughtered and their innards were strewn across the pavement and the wrecked vehicles. Many officers opened fire on the bears, but this only angered the animals as they annihilated the cops.

"Huh. More damn bears." Par commented.

"A bear tore apart my kinkmobile. I have no shits to give, even if they are being kinkyliciously helpful for the time being." Dent added.

"Make it stop!" Chey exclaimed.

"The bears aren't under our control. That would be the Cheesemonger." Richard commented.

"The what now?" Nnam asked.

"We need assistance! Tranquilizers! More weapons! Get it all here NOW!" exclaimed the lead officer, who proceeded to turn toward the group. "Wow... that crazed sheriff was right. You people are some kind of demonic cult... what are you, aliens? Devil worshipers? Time travelers?"

"Well, baybay, I am Johnny Sea Slasher, the mula hula smexily dexy Kinkmeister, otherwise known as-" Dent began,

"Shut up!" The officer replied, walking toward the group, despite the fact that his comrades were being massacred directly behind him. One policemen was slammed into a police car by one bear and then the car was thrown aside by another bear. "You don't deserve to exist."

"Well, that's rude." Richard replied. Suddenly, the officer once again threw forward his pistol, this time taking aim at Chey.

"Let's wipe those grins off of your faces." The man fired, and Chey was unable to move away in time. Luckily, Bill swooped into action, running in front of her and taking the bullet in the arm. He fell aside, but he stood up immediately.

"Like I said." Bill violently ripped into his own flesh and procured the bullet, tossing it aside. "I'm a heartless bitch-ah." Angered, the officer fired again, only for his bullet to be blocked by Noah's shield.

"No." Noah declared. "Back away, or I'll put you in the dirt. Either way, you're gonna back your shit down."

"Sorcerers. Demons! Every last one of you!" The officer said before firing again, again, and again, but Noah's armor protected him. Noah proceeded to step forward and swing his shield into the officer's hand, disarming him. Before he could bludgeon the man, though, a bear ran into the officer and ripped him apart. "D'AAAOOORR!" The man's head was promptly bitten off and then thrown aside like a stale piece of food.

"I feel unexplained joys and sorrows. But alas, I am synthetic." Noah commented, but the bear soon turned to him. "Refer to what I said to the man you just decapitated." There were few policemen left at this point, but the survivors seemed to decide that shooting at Noah and the group was their best option.

"AAAAAAEGH! GET ME OUTTA HERE! I NEED HAAAAAAALP!" Boogie yelled. "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! I'M NOT ACTUALLY A CRIMINAL!" The bears ignored Boog, but they began turning their attention toward Nnam, Chey, Squirt, and Noah. They hadn't been part of the original group, and the bears didn't seem to understand this.

"I think now would be a good time to flee." Par commented. "Run. Run!" He and Richard began fleeing, and Cher seemed to understand that following them was the best option.

"Dent..." Walker said, still having difficulty speaking. "We need to get out of here!"

"Not without the baybay!" Dent suddenly grabbed Chey by the arm and led her away from the scene. Nnam attempted to follow her, but he tripped over Boogie.

"NNAM! PLEASE! I... I need halp." Boogie's state of complete helplessness seemed to compel Nnam to act, as he started trying to get the obese monstrosity up from his fetal position. Noah fought off the bear the best he could as Keira and Squirt made their escape, but Bill was soon to follow. Bill's speed had been lessened and his wounds were taking their toll, but he remained conscious enough to keep up. Squirt and Keira made it into a small wooded area, but Bill was still in pursuit.

"Get back here, you dried out fish!" Bill ordered.

"Oh no, oh gosh, no." Squirt paused and sighed.

"I require assistance." Bill stated, limping.

"Definitely." Keira said with a disturbed face.

"Look, man, Bill... no." Squirt replied. "That's not how it works."

"I can offer you many pussies in return for your help." Bill replied.

"What the HECK, dude? That's nasty." Squirt replied.

"I think he's talking about cats..." Keira muttered.

"Of course I'm talking about cats!" Bill replied. "Are you deaf, Mr. Squirto? I said I can offer you MANY PUSSIES! What did you think I meant!?"

"Wut?" Squirt's expression went blank for a second. "Sorry, not a cat person. Let's go."

"Keira, you clearly admire the pussies! You saw what that man back there did to cats." Bill argued.

"Yeah, so?" Keira was clearly confused.

"I am the only person stinky enough to stop him." Bill replied.

"Yes, you smell terrible - that's more than a good enough reason to leave you." Squirt shoved Bill to the ground and attempted to make a run for it, but Keira promptly tripped him with her foot, causing the small man to fall face-first into a pile of squirrel feces. "Why!?"

"We can't just leave him here." Keira argued. "The last time I tried to run away from these people, it didn't turn out well. At least Bill has some sense of decency."

"Decency!? The man threw me out of my car!" Squirt argued. "We talked about this. We have to escape while we can."

"I think things have changed, Squirt." Keira argued. "I mean, it's not like we just saw a god-powered being or a bunch of bears attacking people."

"God-powered being?" Squirt asked, standing up.

"Have you not seen anime!?" Bill asked, also standing up.

"See? He knows his stuff." Keira stated.

"What stuff!?" Squirt retorted.

Meanwhile, Richard and Par made their way to a small tire shop that was closed for the evening. More sirens could be heard as the authorities were sent in to deal with the bears. Par picked the lock to the building and they entered quietly.

"Alright, make the call." Richard suggested, and Par grabbed his unusual communicator.

"If not for Mark, we wouldn't be in this situation." Par added. "We better get one hell of a bonus for this."


"Yes, hi!" Par made the call. "I'm going to need another healer. No, we're in Tennessee now, weren't you listening? What do you mean? Oh, okay, well, since you're going to be a self-neutering cunt, can I please speak to Mark? No, not that Mark. No, not the janitor. YES, the manager of operations! Yeeeeah, that Mark. No? Are you sure about that?"

"Look, let me handle this." Richard interrupted, grabbing the communicator. "Hello! Since you pissed off my partner, I'm going to try and make this clear. We have several wounded... agents. We need assistance, we need a healer, and we need a helicopter. What do you mean that's not possible? Not important enough? Are you fucking kidding me!? I want to talk to Mark, right now. ... I can see why Par became... disgruntled, because, you see, I am now having mental images of various scenarios that involve the removal of your body parts. Did you know that I once made a delicious soup from one severed toe? I served it to the toe's previous owner with a packet of crackers. Imagine what I could do with you... your family would be fed for weeks! ... Hello? Bloody sausage." Richard attempted to throw the device in anger, but Par promptly caught it and placed it back in his pocket.

"It seems that they don't view our circumstances as dire enough to 'waste' resources on us." Par explained. "We'll have to salvage the situation ourselves."

"How can I help?" asked Cher, who was standing behind them. Instinctively, Richard pointed his pistol at the woman. "Funny how all of our conversations seem so similar."

"How did you get in here?" Par asked. "Oh, right. Vigilante."

"Not exactly," Cher explained. "I'd say it's more of a part-time thing."

"So you're a part-time vigilante." Richard concluded.

"You could say that. So, you both know that, if I wanted to slice your throats in the dark, it would have already happened by now." Cher replied.

"Fair enough. Cease fire." Par commented and Richard put away his weapon.

"So, instead of how, let's ask this: why are you here?" Richard questioned.

"Well, I'm not overly fond of any of you, but do you really think I'd follow those people?" Cher commented.

"So, we're your best bet at survival." Richard deduced.

"Pretty much, but, really, I don't mind you people." Cher replied. "In fact, this has been a pretty welcomed break from ordinary life. Who knew being kidnapped could be so much fun?"

"Clearly she's never heard of the Montana incident." Par added.

"Indeed. Being kidnapped can be a true nightmare." Richard responded. "Anyways, Miss Cher... you may have sliced off my penis, but you also saved me from that purple farting guy. Only one of those actions has been reverted, so I suppose I no longer have grounds to actively try and kill you."

"That's pretty much the best kind of 'thank you' you're gonna get from him." Par added. Richard rolled his eyes.

"Haha, well, it's nothing." Cher looked aside. "I guess I sort of did owe you some kind of repayment."

"Well, if we hadn't found a healer, I would've killed you by now, if it's any consolation." Richard added.

"You would've tried, you mean." Cher replied. "Last I checked, you needed Bill's help just to survive a fight with me. Really, though, I should have left you guys alone. You didn't deserve losing your manhoods... at least you didn't. Billy's a bit questionable. I usually only go after those who had it coming - people who I've researched and spent time hating. Something just came over me that night... I wasn't myself."

"Such a touching speech in regards to cutting off Richard's dick." Par remarked.

"Hey, she said I deserve my manhood - that must mean it's quite impressive." Richard commented.

"You're starting to sound like Boog." Par scoffed. "Wouldn't want to end up with a fork in your nipple."

"Terrible fates do befall those who boast, eh?" Richard replied. "Still, I came back from losing a penis... what's there to be afraid of?"

"Maybe the purple sparkle man?" Cher mentioned. "Who the fuck was that, anyways?"

"Who knows." Richard remarked. "I've seen some strange things, but never quite like that. Even Bill doesn't do those things."

"Well, he definitely encountered Walker and Bill before." Par deduced. "He was there at Blake's store too, so it's no coincidence that he attacked us. I don't know what he has against Bill, but those two seem like two sides of the same coin."

"Well, this Reverse-Stench wants things to smell good, while Bill goes around stinking the place up." Richard added. "Why are we on the side of the stench, though?"

"Maybe cause the Reverse is a metal-controlling freak who expects everyone else to smell good all the time?" Cher added.

"Seems that way." Richard replied. "So, are we going to sit here and chat, or are we going to get out of this?"

"The bears will attack anyone who hasn't eaten the cheese. Therefore, if we can keep the bears distracted with the Nice couple and the others, we can get the cheese while avoiding the bears and the authorities." Par added. "We'll need to grab Keira, though, which won't be as easy as before."

"Well, and we can't just leave the others behind to get killed by bears." Richard replied. "Nnam and Chey went out of their way to help us. They gave us a home, they paid for meals, and they're genuinely good people."

"We've fucked over good people before. Besides, Nnam's a half-wit and Chey seems evil." Par retorted.

"You seem evil, but we haven't given up on you." Richard replied.

"Clearly we need everyone to work together to get out of this situation." Cher interjected. "You guys need Keira, and Keira's with them, so we need everybody to be on the same page."

"That's going to be difficult with these sausages." Richard responded.

"Bill knows where the cheese is." Par began. "We only need one person to grab the cheese... as long as somebody else is in physical contact with Keira, we'll be set."

"So we're depending on Bill's knowledge and Keira's cooperation... this should be interesting." Richard remarked.

Meanwhile, Noah was fending off a bear with his shield when more police cars began approaching the area. Realizing he was outmatched, the knight fled the scene into the woods, only to find Nnam and Boogie there.

"Did you see where the others went?" Nnam asked. Noah simple tapped his helmet three times as a response. "Well? Is that a yes or a no?" Noah repeated the process.

"Shelter. Camouflage. Speed. These are the things we need." Noah commented.

"I can hide. I'm real good! Like, I'm super stealthy. Huergh." Boogie added.

"Boog, please just shut the fuck up." Nnam retorted.

"You shut the fuack up." Boogie replied.

"No, Boog, you need to stop talking. Right. Now." Nnam grew stern.

"Silence!" Noah interjected. "The authorities and the bears are roaming the area. When they get done fighting each other, we're next, so shuffle forward and make haste!" With that, Nnam and Boog followed as the three of them ran through the woods. Unfortunately, it took only ten steps for Boogie to fall down again.

"AAAAAEH! MY FOOT!" Boog screeched.

"I thought you said it was better!" Nnam added.

"I lied. I told a story-aeh-heeeeurgh!" Boogie whined. "Halp me. Like, please, Nnam. Please?"

"I can get you up, but I can't make you walk." Nnam replied.

"But you're Mr. Nice! C'mon, like, be nice. Do somethinnn." Boog pleaded. Nnam frowned, shook his head, and then turned to Noah. "We can't run with him like this. We'll never get anywhere."

Noah looked aside, then back at Nnam. Then he looked aside again. Then he looked back at Nnam. He turned his head several times, rotating in various directions and staring at several trees. "Alright. There's only one solution." Noah turned to Nnam and put his hands on his hips. Then he pointed at Boogie. "We kill the fat man."

"HEY HEY HEY... WAIT! I'm not fat! Like, I'm poofy. Cause of my hair! It just looks like I'm fat." Boogie went on

"No, dude, we're not killing anybody." Nnam replied. "Besides, if we kill one of them then they'll probably try to kill us. We can't leave him behind."

"You cannot leave him behind. There is no preexisting 'we' in this context." Noah corrected.

"You helped us. That's great. Now, let us help you by sticking together and not running off into the woods like a gosh-darn fuckface!" Nnam replied.

"Who said I'd run off into the woods like a fuckface?" Noah asked. "I would run into the woods like a boss."

"Stop trying to come up with the best one-liners and focus!" Nnam replied. "We gotta think this thr-OOH!" Nnam was promptly bonked in the face by Noah's shield.

"I’m sorry; I’m usually more composed. It’s just that right now I’m feeling a little bit ABSOLUTELY LIVID!" Noah shouted. "Fine. Hide the fat man, and we escape."

"Wait... wut?" Boogie inquired.

"How do I hide someone who probably weighs 400 pounds?" Nnam asked. Noah proceeded to grab Boogie and toss him into a bush.

"AAERGH! HALP. I can't... I think I'm stuck!" Boogie complained.

"Problem solved." Noah turned to continue running, but Nnam interjected.

"What's that supposed to do?" Nnam asked.

"Hide him from the authorities, what else? We aren't competing to survive the Hunger Games. Well, maybe he is. I suppose that depends on whether or not he wants a fancy gold pin stabbed into his fatsack for his trouble." Noah replied.

"What about the fucking bears?" Nnam asked.

"There's nothing we can do to save that man from a bear. You can't rescue a crippled midget from a cage of prison rapists unless you don't let him into the cage in the first place. The fat man is already in the cage." Noah added and moved on. Nnam shrugged, gave Boogie one last glance, and followed the knight.

Meanwhile, Dent dragged Chey away from the scene as Walker dizzily followed him. Chey didn't say anything, but Dent was barking instructions to be quiet and avoid being seen. Eventually they made their way onto another street and they entered a fast food restaurant.

"Wow. I can't believe you got us out of that." Chey commented.

"I've seen worse, bibeh." Dent stated. "Sometimes you just expect shit to go down after so many times." As Dent said this, Walker began leaning one way and then fell directly into a random startled Asian woman.

"Oh my gosh! Walker, are you okay?" Chey asked as Dent's women helped the Asian and Dent aided Walker.

"No..." Walker replied.

"He's out of kink." Dent declared. "We gotta fix 'em." He dragged Walker to a booth and laid him down there before taking a seat across from him while Chey ordered three meals.

"Dent..." Walker began fumbling and muttering.

"What is is, baybay? Talk to me, Walka bibeh." Dent leaned forward.

"I told you about Spoderman..." Walker continued. "Why didn't you believe me?"

"Well, baybay, I've never seen such a kank! Surely you can't blame me for being a bit skeptical." Dent responded.

"I don't care." Walker admitted. "As long as we don't fuck up anything else."

"Baybeeh, it ain't our fault! That kankidy kunk came outta nowhere. Nothin' we could'a done!" Dent said.

"Dent, I would give my life to protect you from harm... but stop ignoring danger. I won't follow you into a shitstorm, and I certainly can't save you from a shitstorm if you go right into one." Before Walker could say any more, Chey arrived with three cheeseburger combos. She sat next to Walker, as Dent's booth was filled with him and his women. Walker seemed almost afraid to touch her, and she didn't seem particularly comfortable next to him either, so they both sat scrunched into inward positions. Walker grabbed his burger and simply stared at it, while Dent began munching on his.

"Mmmmm." Dent added. "I needed this kink!"

"I thought we could use some energy." Chey chirped. "I don't know what happened back there, but I don't want any part of it."

"Well, beybeeey, we never plan for this kank to happen... it just does! The kinkiest of kinks are often surrounded by the kankest kanks." Dent replied.

"I mean, I love being around you guys. I can actually open up a bit instead of always having to watch everything I say." Chey commented.

"Bibeh, please, I don't buy any of that kink." Dent responded, handing his burger to one of his women so he could begin talking. "You're just as nice and normal as anyone could ask for. That's mega kink! But it ain't the true you, baybay. I would know... I am the kinkmeister, after all. You have to adapt to all baybays in order to be treated with kink. You probably have a lot more to say, but you don't because you enjoy our kink. If I had to say, I'd bet you feel better about yourself when you see all of us being so... questionable. We're wacky and kink kank konky, while you're just calm and perfecto-kinky."

"What? No... you guys are just a fun group to be around. I'm so glad Nnam brought you guys around, actually. This last week has been so much fun." Chey replied.

"Mmmmmmmmm." Dent moaned. "That's kink... but I know better. We lift you up by showing you how bad you could actually get. It's nothin' to be ashamed of, bibeh. I understand it completely. Your kindness is one of the primary elements of the kink!"

"Yes, some of the language and... inappropriate behavior does bother me, but I'm willing to tolerate that to have fun with you guys. I'm only nice because I want you all to like me as much as I like you." Chey replied.

"Mmmmm. There's more to it than that, baybay, but we'll continue this topic when you're more comfortable." Dent slurped on his soda.

"Thank God it's over." Walker complained.

"Excuse me?" Chey asked.

"Baybaaays! Calm dooown. I was simply havin' a nice talk of kink with Chey baybay here." Dent added.

"You care more about why someone is nice than the fact that we were nearly killed by Spoderman." Walker stated. "Why do I feel like I'm the only one around here who looks out for our survival?"

"Walker, I'm sorry." Chey said. "You're the one having a fit right now. I shouldn't be getting the attention." Walker turned to Chey and gave her a death stare.

Meanwhile, Noah and Nnam continued through the woods until they noticed a disturbance.

"What the fuck is that smell?" Nnam asked.

"That would be me-ah." Bill declared, appearing behind Mr. Nice, who instinctively turned to punch Bill in the face, only for his fist to be caught by Bill. The almighty stinker fell back in pain, though, as he was still injured. He was traveling with Squirt and Keira.

"Ah! More hooligans." Noah commented.

"Do either of you have any clue what's going on here?" Keira asked.

"We encountered a wizard. The wizard ran away. We encountered the authorities. The authorities ran away. We encountered a bear. We ran away." Noah explained.

"So... no, then." Squirt replied. Noah simply tapped his helmet twice.

"What happened to the others?" Keira asked.

"Boogie's in a bush somewhere back there, and I have no idea about anyone else. My wife is the priority here." Nnam added.

"Your nutsack is as much of a priority as she is." Squirt argued. "We need to get the heck out of here."

"Nigh." Bill interjected. "We cannot flee until we have recovered the others and the cheese."

"What cheese?" Nnam asked. "Look, I'm going to find Chey and Richard. After that, I'm out, but not until then."

"Chey and Richard are probably dead, and we will be too if we don't play things smart here." Squirt rebutted.

"If we are finding one person, we are finding all of the persons." Bill declared. "One person is not equal to another. If we leave them behind, it'll be the stench to pay."

"I can acquire the others and bring them here. I don't trust you lot as traveling companions." Noah added.

"But I trust you know what awaits you should you FAIL-ah." Bill replied. "We remain together until we have all the dumbasses. No exceptions."

"Why the heck should I take orders you from, Mr. Stinkypoo?" Squirt made a face. "Clearly I'm the only one thinking straight here, so either you take my advice or you end up screwed."

"I took a bullet for Mr. Nice's wife-ah." Bill argued. "I fought the Reverse until my bones cracked. I will take us to the seas and acquire us many pussies. Where will you take us? A farm!?"

"Look at this guy. He's the complete package." Noah gestured to Bill.

"I am the sea." Bill nodded.

"And who are you?" Noah gestured to Squirt. "You're Player Number One."

"Someone actually made a good joke!" Keira laughed.

"Okay then. We circle around and find the others." Nnam agreed.

"Wait, hold on a second! Nobody's going anywhere." Squirt persisted.

"Stop talking." Noah said to Squirt. He then held his shield up in front of Squirt's face. "Tell me... what do you call this?"

"What?" Squirt asked.

"This is not a what." Noah replied. "Survey failed. Moving on." Noah and the others began hiking forward. Squirt had no choice but to follow suit.

Chapter 39: Mendacity Edit

Officer Vincent rushed through the halls of the Cheese Palace. Avoiding large crowds, he made his way to one of the side elevators. Although the main elevator was extensively used due to its size, many other elevators functioned throughout the Palace. Bumping into a cheese man and stuttering, Vincent directed the elevator to the sixty-third floor, one of the several floors housing the Lords' Chambers. Once he arrived, he avoided eye contact with the cheese guards and passed several passage ways and corridors before finally turning to the right. There was a large door decorated with various sculptures and engraved carvings. He was forced to exchange looks with a cheese guard before pressing a few buttons on a console next to the door's main handle. After 6.1 seconds, the door was unlocked and he entered. He walked through another passage, by two more guards, and then into a room which was surrounded with the colors of white, gray, and silver. Fountains, paintings, sculptures, and a cheese-making machine were present, as well as a large desk with steel trim and polished legs.

"Vincent?" Lord Swiss asked from behind the desk, his head adjusting to where a large spoon, which was on display behind him, could be seen directly through the hole in his face. He was writing what appeared to be Shakespearean poetry.

"My lord." Vincent bowed, out of breath. He didn't pay any mind to the half-finished statue of Lord Swiss the Third directly to his right. He didn't even seem to notice what Lord Swiss was writing.

"Clearly something is bothering you. Speak." Swiss said.

"My lord, I have made a terrible discovery." Vincent's face began to melt a bit.

"Calm yourself." Lord Swiss spoke. "The flow of cheese has remained for centuries, and shall remain for centuries onward. All is well. Allow whatever is troubling you to become clear in your mind and say the words as if they aren't being said, but rather... poured."

Vincent didn't seem to know what to think of this, but he went on. "I noticed something was misplaced in the docks. I didn't pay it much attention, but when I went to check on it later, I found... Cheesians who weren't supposed to be there."

"Who were these Cheesians?" Swiss asked, suddenly perking upwards and glancing forward intently.

"I don't know -- no mammoth cheese; they were wearing cloaks. One of them was definitely a Cheese Lord, though." Vincent replied. "They were... tampering with the Holy Cheese. They had a crate of it and they were either removing something or placing something in the shipment."

"That is troubling indeed. I am sure that the Monger would want to know about this." Swiss commented.

"I'm not sure, my lord. That might not be a good idea." Vincent added. "I checked the security feed to see if I could find any additional details, but there's no trace of any recordings of the event. The files have been replaced with others. I found nothing, and I had to avoid raising suspicion. For someone to be able to tamper with the recordings, they must have had resources. The Monger may very well be a part of these cheasonous acts. I already know for a fact that a Cheese Lord is involved."

"If the Cheesemonger is up to something, I suppose that speaking out about it would be an unwise decision." Swiss said plainly. "Likewise, it would be an unwise decision not to speak up about a threat to dairy when given the chance."

"Very true, my lord, very true." Vincent agreed. "I have seen some blue in my days, but I don't know if I've ever dealt with bullswissers like these, excuse my language. It's cheesious villainy to abuse the Holy Cheese. It is the very thing that holds Cheesia together! I didn't know who else to go to, my lord. I spoke of this to no one."

"Do not fret, my friend." Swiss said. "A cheesious burden has been thrust upon you. I will decide who to trust with this information. In the meantime, you must acquire more details. Do you expect these mysterious Cheesians to appear again?"

"I do, my lord." Vincent replied.

"Then do not be afraid to take the appropriate action." Swiss replied. "I will have an agent pay close attention to the security footage tonight. You will return to the scene and await any wrongdoing Cheesians. If you must put an end to things, do so. Harming you would be a cheesious mistake if there are recordings, and I do not expect a fellow Cheese Lord to make such a miscalculation. Even if the Monger is involved, the council will not allow him to get away with such a thing. You are protected by the very infrastructure of dairy. Now go, and plan your actions carefully. Speak of this to no one. You have done well by bringing this to me. I trust that this knowledge shall bring me cheesious revelations."

"A-verah well, my lord." Vincent exited. Swiss turned around in his swivel chair and stared at a painting of the Reichenbach Falls, which was directly above the displayed spoon, as if the eating utensil were a pinch away from catching a drop of the waterfall's lifeblood.


Meanwhile, in Lord Ricotta's chambers, Lords Mozzarella and Parmesan entered casually, Mozzarella's robe dragging as usual.

"Took you two long enough." Ricotta scoffed.

"There are always tasks to be tended to." Mozzarella commented, closing the door.

"Is it done then?" Ricotta questioned.

"Indeed." Parmesan replied. "We are almost finished with the rest of it. We have made much progress."

"It is quite astonishing, isn't it?" Ricotta looked to the side. "We have accomplished so much. Less than a year ago, the three of us sat in this very spot and constructed our vision of a Cheesia ruled by Italians."

"Indeed. Soon enough, dairy will be in better hands... if all goes as according to plan." Mozzarella replied. "The three of us are unmoved, there is no doubt about that..... but what of the others? The benefactor, the other Cheese Lords, and the Jacks might cause us trouble. Relying on others is like letting others borrow your eyeballs - they take matters into their own hands and leave you blind. How's it coming, Parmesan?"

"Obviously the benefactor is proceeding as expected." Parmesan replied. "The Jacks are quite easy to understand... except for Monterey Jack. I still don't quite understand his goals. I shall speak to him when I am through here."

"The Jacks are crucial to our advancement." Ricotta stated.

"Indeed!" Mozzarella squawked. "I had to slap some cheesense into Colby myself. If you must do the same with Monterey, then so be it. Nothing stands in our way."

"With all due respect, Mozzarella, I believe that Monterey Jack is infinitely different from the other Jacks. Colby and Pepper can be easily shaped to our will if the proper leverage is applied, but Monterey just doesn't seem to... care." Parmesan spoke.

"Then perhaps I should pay him a personal visit..." Mozzarella replied. "We cannot allow uncertainty in times of cheesious fragility."

"Allow me to clarify his allegiance, my lord," Parmesan continued. "or at least prevent him from causing any harm."

"Parmesan is correct. Monterey should be swayed, not threatened." Ricotta agreed. "Fear tactics don't work on Cheese Lords."

"So be it." Mozzarella muttered.


Shortly thereafter, Parmesan made his way to the Conference Room. Cheese Lords Goat, Pepper Jack, Monterey Jack, and Provolone were present. All of them were eating flatbread with cheese and tending to paperwork, except for Goat, who ate a salad.

"Hello, Parmesan." Pepper Jack welcomed the Cheese Lord as he breathed heavily, his eye twitching.

"Pepper, Lords," Parmesan greeted them. He sat in one of the large red couches as Provolone and Monterey glanced at him for two seconds before returning to their conversation over files. Pepper Jack seemed to simply be writing aggressive requests for reforms. "Goat!"

"Hm?" Goat didn't look away from his salad.

"I'm concerned... are you going to miss your meeting with Maroni?" Parmesan asked. Goat instantly jerked his head toward Parmesan to stare him in the eyes with a completely dumbfounded expression. "I heard he was expecting you in three minutes!"

Lord Goat groaned, grunted, and then leaped up, carrying his salad with him as he exited. Only a moment later, Provolone sighed and exchanged some paperwork with Monterey Jack before shaking his hand and standing up.

"I see what this is, Parmesan." Provolone said in a disappointed tone. "I'll leave--just spare me your lies for once."

"Lies? There are no lies here." Parmesan twisted his head.

"It's of no concern; I have somewhere to be." Provolone shook his head. "Don't forget that dishonesty and fabricated niceness never got Cheese anywhere. We didn't invent pasta or destroy the armies of Blue by pretending everything was happy in the world. If something must be done, it should be done without hesitation."

"What are you talking about, Provolone?" Parmesan asked.

"You want the Conference Room to yourself. It matters not - I must attend a meeting; Lord Maroni will be there." Provolone said as he exited. Parmesan suddenly realized what had happened.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, what are you here to lecture us about this time?" Pepper Jack asked.

"No lectures. Actually, I wanted to speak to Monterey Jack." Parmesan announced. Monterey Jack simply raised his eyebrows. Pepper Jack almost looked offended, but he went back to his paperwork. Monterey and Parmesan both stood up and stood at the large window as if following a routine.

"Let me guess. You're running your loop and you've decided to check in on my well being." Monterey Jack commented.

"You could say that." Parmesan stated. The two of them didn't make eye contact. Instead they simply gazed out of the window, admiring the scenery and paying respect to the clouds. Parmesan clasped his hands together while Monterey locked his behind his back "Some of the others, including the headhunter, requested that I ensure-"

"Yes, yes, you're all itching about my loyalty," Monterey remarked. "Then again, is there such thing as loyalty to a group of powerful Cheesians seeking to scheme their way into positions that would make them into even more powerful Cheesians?"

"What we are doing will tremendously benefit dairy." Parmesan replied. "But you've heard all of that already, haven't you? I can tell from the look on your face that you're ready to puke."

"My ears have always been a tad bit too large for my own good." Monterey responded. "After a while, hearing the same things in repetition does indeed get boring... but I never become numb to a point's meaning. I find that meaning has very little meaning, actually. Intention is much more crucial knowledge."

"Have I ever told you about my brother?" Parmesan asked.

"Former Cheese Lord of Parmesan, died on a diplomacy venture to the Meat Dynasty, writer of very ill-regarded poetry." Monterey yawned. "If your idea is that I will be heartbroken by your family history, please spare me. I could've gotten that anywhere."

"So be it, but he didn't die on a diplomacy trip." Parmesan replied. "I've always loved violence. I'm not sure what was so alluring about it. Obviously we are half-human and humans crave violence, but I was particularly thrilled by it. Fighting was all I could think about as a child. I was quite good at it too, I'd say." Parmesan cracked his knuckles and clenched his teeth for a moment. "My brother, on the other hand, detested conflict. He'd rather smother his enemies with cheese dip than have to use his Cheesian ring for anything. I always beat him as a child, even though he was older. I suppose he only fought me because he knew I enjoyed it."

"I think I'm going to fall out of this window." Monterey remarked. Parmesan rolled his eyes and continued.

"Many decades ago, Lord Crow chose a few Cheese Lords to accompany him on a very 'secret' task. I only knew of this because my brother told me, but he and a few others joined the bird to dispose of some long lost sea creature." Parmesan went on. "Apparently this beast had been a spawn of the Blue centuries ago, and it was wounded in the great wars. Only then had it reappeared, and Crow wanted to destroy it immediately. My brother and the others took it down, but he couldn't even defend himself when the monster struck him. Had I been chosen instead, my brother would still be alive."

"But you weren't a Cheese Lord." Monterey Jack remarked. "And you wouldn't be a Cheese Lord if not for your sibling's death. You might want to thank that sea creature."

"I would rather be powerless if I could bring my brother back!" Parmesan coughed. "But you see my point. Cheese Lords must be willing to act. According to the stories, my brother simply stood there in shock as the creature fell on him. He had no will for violence or even defense."

"How did you hear of this if it was so secretive?" Monterey smushed his lips.

"Lord Crow told me he died of an illness, but I knew that something else was at play. I confronted the Monger... and I'll never forget the expression on his face when he told me how my brother had died. It was as if he were satisfied... like he planned it all along. Then he gave me his Cheesian ring and proclaimed me Lord Parmesan."

"Your point is that violence is essential." Monterey mumbled. "But I see it more as a last resort, an often chaotic means of resolving issues that proves to be a gamble of odds. Personally I've always preferred mental solutions to physical ones, but to each his own cheese, I suppose."

"Cheesia got where it is today by fighting." Parmesan retorted. "Cheesius and Lord Crow personally dispatched the High Sorcerers of Blue. Our ancestors won lands from other empires and communities. Violence is the only way in which anyone can establish authority."

"And yet it was the very idea of altering Cheesia's current state that brought us all together." Monterey raised his eyebrows again.

"The Monger is hopeless. He struggles with decisions and fails to act when pressed. We need a ruler who is willing to make the difficult decisions. We need a Monger who isn't scared of violence." Parmesan replied.

Monterey Jack scoffed, "We both know who will become the Cheesemonger if Cheesarius is removed, Parmesan." Monterey turned away and walked toward the exit, but he stopped for a moment when Parmesan spoke again.

"I have to tell them something. Can I trust you, Monterey?" Parmesan asked.

"Me? Of course," Monterey glanced back at Parmesan. "But be careful--there are schemers about." Monterey exited slowly.


Meanwhile, in the Throne Room...

"Right this way, my lords." Said Smith as he gestured for Lords Crow, Cheddar, Havarti, Maroni and Provolone entered through the large elevator. The room had been partially cleared out and few cheese men wandered from the left hallway, which led to the teleportation room and other sections, to the right hallway, which led to the staircase. As if on cue, all traffic through the elegant, decorated chamber of the Cheesemonger's residence ceased immediately with the arrival of the High Cheese Lords. On the black, burnt throne in front of them, which was facing forward this time, sat the Monger, as usual. The high-seated chair was now elevated on a few large platforms which served as steps, and the opening behind its occupant was currently opened to allow a pleasant gust of wind to occur every few seconds.

"Cheese, seal us up." The Monger said; The opening was promptly closed. The cheese man exited. "Cheese Lords."

All five of them bowed lightly and stood in a line before their Monger. "The Monger would like me to remind you that the matters dicussed during this session of counsel shall be kept among those present in this room-" Smith began.

"Of course, as always." Crow interjected, tapping his beak. "Now, what is this about?"

"As you know, I rarely call upon a personal meeting with so many Cheese Lords at once without simply addressing the Cheese Council, but matters have made this necessary," the Monger stated. "Lord Cheddar, explain the status quo?"

"The consumers engaged the Fresh Lord at the site of the Holy Cheese, but their Stench Lord managed to ward him off. Following that incident, the authorities arrived, and we sent in bears to contain the situation. Since then, the consumers have scattered about the area, many of them injured. Knowing the history of this lot, I do not have a favorable prediction of the outcome of this situation, my Monger." Cheddar spoke.

"There's the cheese. The bullswissers can't go two minutes without destroying their environment." The Monger admitted coldly. "I have called upon the five of you because you are my most trusted advisers and because I believe all of you represent the voices of Cheese. Crow, obviously you have lived for centuries and are wiser than us all. Havarti, you speak for the mystics and the most learned practitioners of Cheesian sorcery. Maroni, you represent the interests of the Italians and the consumer relations. Cheddar, you are the manager of logistics and you speak for many of the staff members. Provolone, you represent the traditionalists and the most educated Cheesians. Now I must decide, with your help, whether or not to have these consumers exterminated, and what to expect as a result of my decision, either way."

"Without the consumers to acquire the Holy Cheese, the process of Cheesian magic will continue to diminish." Havarti's hands shook as he held onto his robe. "As you know, since we outlawed natural birth, the essence of dairy is what allows us to produce offspring in the Baths of Creation. The Holy Cheese embodies the flow of that process, and Cheese Lords must consume it on a regular basis to ensure the continuation of our highest cheeselines. I will also remind you that the Holy Cheese cannot be mass-produced like other cheeses, and that the work of our mystics is greatly tampered with when it is consumed by non-Cheesians, especially when the consumption occurs to far from the Cheese Palace."

"I think our Monger knows the process of Cheesian energy, Havarti." Provolone commented. "What are the consequences?"

"If the consumption is disrupted further, we could face losing high cheeselines or even losing significant power over Cheesian sorcery." Havarti explained. "The Holy Cheese takes an incredibly long time to mold or 'go bad,' and it is labeled as such. The consumers probably save it for special occasions, as it is marked as a delicacy, due to that fact. But do not think for one second that it will not be eaten. The lost batches are essential to the restoration of the flow of Cheesian energy, and also in discovering how they were misplaced in the first place."

"Are there any new developments on that end?" Cheddar asked.

"There are traces of... something... but I cannot yet tell what. The other mystics have noticed it as well, but there is not enough to make a clear judgment. It could be another cheese, or something else entirely. Also, the sorcerers have continued to predict a great surge of death to come, my Monger."

"What is this surge of death? What could it entail?" The Monger asked.

"Well, many consumers could die due to our actions... or many Cheesians." Havarti continued.

"There is obviously a greater force at work here than consumers or foolish Cheesian workers." Crow stated. "Someone or something poses a threat to dairy, and I have felt a presence of death as well."

"Let me guess, Crow... you're blaming the Ruffalo family?" Provolone asked.

"Potentially." Crow tapped. "It is impossible to know without sufficient information."

"Intervention from the Ruffalo family would explain many occurrences, but let us not forget Crow's bias on this situation. He has been enemies with the man for centuries, after all." Maroni spoke.

"Not to mention that the Ruffalo's have not engaged in any hostility toward Dairy for over a century." Provolone argued. "They have no reason to attack us now."

"No reason?" Crow jerked aside to face Provolone. "The man bears children solely to rip away their consciousness and take on a new body once the last one has been used up. He has held a vendetta against me for many centuries, and he has been to realms where there is no such thing as cheese. Do you really think that waiting a few centuries to strike at us is beyond him?"

"Say it is Ruffalo." The Monger said. "Then what? We still have no solution."

"I could track down his current host and beat the answers out of him myself." Crow suggested. "I've killed him before, and I will do it again. If it turns out he's not involved, so be it. At least we will know."

"Perhaps, but I need you here for now, and tracking him down would be quite a task, even with your crows." The Monger replied. "I do need further investigation, but right now I need a decision that can please the council and my conscience."

"Using Cheesian force would certainly mop up the situation, and it would please the council, not to mention intimidate other kingdoms." Maroni mentioned. "But... I can see how that seems difficult."

"That would be an idiotic move." Cheddar interrupted. "Exposing ourselves will only lead to many more problems."

"At the same time, though, we are exposing ourselves by sending legions of bears to fight the authorities. Never before have Cheesians taken such risks to ensure the survival of consumers." Provolone mentioned.

"Using Cheesian forces is not an option." The Monger declared. "Neither is continuing to intervene otherwise. We have done what we can. Remove the bears from the scene and clean up the situation with what influence we have left." Cheddar and Maroni nodded, clearly planning to take to these tasks.

"Perhaps the consumers will come through, Monger." Maroni suggested. "After all, they have gone this far. I suggest that we simply allow them to attempt to complete their mission for the time being. In the meantime, we should discover the truth behind these problems. Crow can continue meditating and look into his Ruffalo theory, while Havarti can continue to study the cheese. In fact, it might be a reasonable proposition to investigate the other shipments of the Holy Cheese."

"We already checked all of the other batches." Cheddar explained.

"But we haven't checked the newest ones." The Monger thought.

"Why would the culprits be so foolish as to do the same thing twice?" Provolone asked.

"It won't cause anyone any blue to verify the batches." Cheddar stated.

"We must ensure all measures are taken to solidify our chances of solving our predicaments... even if they are unpleasant or inconvenient." Maroni declared.

"Indeed." The Monger agreed. "While we investigate, I will allow the consumers one more chance to follow through. Sending influence or Cheesians would expose us, and that is unacceptable. I'd rather disrupt the flow of dairy by waiting than cause us more strife by acting irrationally. If it means we lost a bit of Cheesian power, so be it. I am willing to sacrifice that to come to a true solution. Besides, when's the last time any of us had to truly conjure much of our magic?"

"My Monger, the sorcery is used for much more than just combat." Havarti added. "Our sorcery binds the flow of Cheesian birth, production, and safety."

"If we lose some high-born cheeseline, so be it. A worthy sacrifice in the name of dairy." The Monger stated.

"What if it were your cheeseline?" Lord Crow asked. "You might reconsider your words if that were the case."

"If that were the case, then I would be forced to acquire myself a Cheesewife and continue the royalty of dairy." The Monger replied.

Provolone gasped. "What!? Is this some ill-conceived joke!? A cheesewife!? We are forbidden! It would be disastrous!"

"Come now, Provolone, do you really think that the Monger would give birth to a Blue Lord?" Maroni asked.

"Do you really believe that, Provolone?" The Monger asked. "Cheesius had a wife and many children, including my grandfather, Cheesilius. My father loved a female Cheesian and didn't tell anybody about it. Who knows if they had... relations... but just because one Blue Lord was born doesn't mean every offspring will be Blue."

"Our current system is flawless and does not require the nasty process of human reproduction." Provolone replied. "We can ensure the gender and type of every Cheesian offspring. With... 'natural' methods, we will be forced to wonder if a Blue Lord will be born! We have these rules in place for a reason, my Monger."

"We have these rules in place so we don't have Cheesians like Colby Jack running around making twenty Cheesians, one of whom likely would be a Blue." The Monger retorted. "Do you really believe that not one couple has broken this rule over the centuries?"

"I have full confidence in our surveillance of the lower sections, Monger." Cheddar stated.

"And what of the upper sections?" The Monger asked.

"There are no females allowed in the upper sections, obviously." Provolone replied.

"And no Cheese Lord has ever sneaked a female up here? I find that unlikely." The Monger replied. "It is my personal opinion that the females are far better off downstairs anyways. They are free from the endless torture of politics and High Cheese Affairs."

"What have we come to? Allowing a few consumers to push us into ignoring our most sacred vows?" Provolone asked. "Parmesan and Maroni's Italian goons harass me without consequences and Cheese Lords challenge our Monger without being severely punished?"

"My fellow Italians can become quite irrational at times, yes, but they simply have values of their owns. We are a passionate people, after all." Maroni explained. "I am more independent than the others, though. While they might choose to eradicate the consumers, they would only temporarily solve the issue at hand. I prefer real solutions rather than easy fixes. We must do what is necessary to achieve progress. With the proper patience and intellect, you can accomplish things that once seemed inconceivable."

"I agree, we must be patient, but we must also know when to act." Crow argued.

"I believe I have heard enough." The Monger declared. "Investigate Ruffalo. Continue to monitor for Blue magic. Bring forth the current shipments of the Holy Cheese for inspection. We shall allot the consumers one more small period of time to complete their task. If they fail, then I will be forced to bestow a very belated smiting upon them."

"A very wise medley of decisions, Monger." Maroni nodded, along with Crow, Cheddar, and Havarti. Provolone scoffed and the five of them exited.

"Cheese. Open the gate. I'm starting to melt in here." The Monger ordered.


Merely a couple of hours later, once the night had fallen, Vincent stationed himself inside a crate of Pepper Jack cheese in the docks. He had already been there for an hour, but he had no plans to give up now. It didn't take long for two hooded figures to appear again; conveniently the main lights flickered off, but Vincent could still see the two figures. He recognized the distinct glow of a Cheese Lord's ring on the finger of one of them, and the two Cheesians he was spying on were the same ones he saw before, from what he could tell. After a brief exchange of words which he could not decipher, the two suspects, as expected, procured a crate of the Holy Cheese from its place in storage. Glancing around to make sure no one was in the direct vicinity, the Cheese Lord used his ring to bypass the locks on the crate; the other figure removed what was left of the locks.

"Is this the last one?" Asked the second figure.

"Yes, I already told you!" Said the Cheese Lord. "You are worthless."

"I'm sorry, my lord." The Cheesian looked down in defeat.

"Stop pouting and help me get this finished." The Cheese Lord said, and the two of them began their deeds. Some sort of machine was activated. Some material was exchanged. Unseen actions altered the very course of dairy.

Vincent had heard enough. Remaining in the shadows, he drew his cheese gun, approaching quietly. The two suspects were on opposite sides of the shipment. The Cheese Lord was faced toward him, while the other faced the Cheese Lord. Once Vincent was close enough, he acted before the Lord could notice him.

"Halt! Cease this cheason!" Vincent raised his weapon. "Reveal yourselves!"

Instinctively, the second figure drew his own weapon and swooshed around toward Vincent, but the Swiss Officer had placed himself at the perfect distance. He quickly fired, disarming the servant, who crashed toward him in a panic, but Vincent defensively plugged a shot right into the Cheesian's face. The energy impacted in a large splash, blasting and burning the front of the Cheesian's face and frying the cheese inside him - he fell over as yellow liquids leaked out of his skull.

As this occurred, Vincent gritted his teeth and breathed heavily. Although his attention wisely remained on the Cheese Lord, he gazed at the Cheesian's falling vessel briefly, painfully adjusting his footing slightly to accommodate room for the new occupant of the floor. He looked on it as if it were him who had been shot, not the conspirator.

"How dare you!?" The Lord shouted. "I am a High Cheese Lord! You cannot point a weapon at me!"

"I can if you are acting against the greater good of dairy." Vincent replied.

"What we are doing is helping to save dairy, you fool! You cannot begin to comprehend these matters."

"I can start by comprehending your face." Vincent made a gesture with his weapon.

"You just made the last mistake of your life, bullswisser." The Cheese Lord declared, raising his arm. He shouldn't have said that, as Vincent quickly fired another shot, blasting off three of the Lord's fingers, including the one with his ring. He flung his arm back in pain and let out a screech. "How!? Cheese guns cannot damage Cheesian Rings!"

"No, but they can destroy Cheesian flesh, especially if you know where to aim." Vincent stated. "I once scored a headshot on Gravy Bones. You cannot outmatch me. Now, reveal yourself, or I'll shoot again!"

After glancing around desperately, Lord Pepper Jack reluctantly removed his hood.

"No wonder." Vincent scoffed. "You've been causing trouble on the council, according to Lord Swiss. You disgust me, cheese-grater."

"The Cheesemonger is the cheese-grater." Pepper Jack replied. "We are restoring the balance of dairy."

"You can tell that to the Monger yourself." Vincent replied.

"I'm afraid the Monger won't be hearing about this." Pepper Jack said confidently. Vincent realized just then that Pepper Jack had been glancing behind him. He thought to fire a shot; it was too late. A long, needle-like rapier plunged through Vincent's torso, crashing into his pistol. Before he could react, the sword was then plucked from him, neatly exiting in the same way it entered, leaving one perfect puncture in Vincent. As he collapsed to the ground, Lord Mozzarella wiped the cheese off of his sword using a cloth he had on hand. Pepper Jack quickly grabbed his Cheesian Ring from the ground and placed it on his other hand.

"You fools!" Mozzarella spoke. "How could you let some bullswisserous lackey disarm you!? The benefactor would have had all of our heads if this situation was not contained! The others thought I should oversee this batch, since it is indeed the last. How fortunate for all of us that I had the time."

"He was some kind of special marksman!" Pepper Jack pleaded. "And I've still been a bit dizzy since the Colonel hit me!"

"Excuses!" Mozzarella exclaimed. "The very fate of dairy is at stake here. No mishaps can be tolerated! We must act with precision and cheesious-"

"Yes yes, precision and cheesious consideration. I've heard it dozens of times now." Pepper Jack sighed.

"Then why have you nearly allowed some officer to expose us?" Mozzarella questioned. "Unacceptable! If you fail me again, you will no longer be a part of our movement... and you know what happens to loose ends, don't you?"

"Of course." Pepper Jack coughed. "But I had the situation under control!"

"I believe that as much as I believe that Gravy Bones is a wonderful dinner companion!" Mozzarella squawked. "If you weren't a Cheese Lord, you'd be dead right now, Pepper Jack."

"Bull with swiss!" Pepper Jack objected. "You cannot be so disrespectful to a Cheese Lord."

"Clearly I can." Mozzarella remarked.

"Neither of you will make it out of this situation alive..." Vincent coughed, yellow cheese leaking out of his gut. "The cameras... an agent is watching them. You're already.. eugh... exposed."

"I'm afraid not, officer." Mozzarella knelt down to Vincent's level. "I ensure that nothing is seen every night myself. Your agent was simply... misinformed. I would not let something as cheesiously petty as a security camera stand in my way. Your efforts have failed, Vincent, and now you will die, forgotten and abandoned."

Vincent coughed in grief and attempted to move, but he could do nothing. He simply gazed into Mozzarella's face as his Cheesian essence left his body.

"Finish up the job." Mozzarella ordered.

"I've lost three fingers! Do you have any idea how many weeks it will take for these to grow back!?" Pepper Jack argued.

"You'll manage." Mozzarella replied. "In the meantime, I'll send someone to clean up this mess."

Chapter 40: Gathering Information Edit

The sheriff sat in a blue plastic chair inside the law enforcement headquarters of the town in which Blake Stewart's Entertainment Shop was stationed. Seeing Communications Officer Arnold approaching, the sheriff stuffed his tissue in his pocket and locked up.

"What is it, Arnold?" He asked.

"I have word of the Doctor and his companion, sir." Arnold reported. "They were spotted yelling for help from the back of a pink van only one county away from here. They shall arrive here shortly."

"Very good, Arnold." The sheriff replied. "At least one thing's goin' my way today. No sightings of the suspects in this area?"

"No sir, and the doctor and the other officer were not harmed - I was told you might inquire on their conditions." Arnold responded.

"Mm." The sheriff grumbled, sniffing to call back more runaway mucus into his nose. "If those two have just now been spotted, then the driver must have only left them there not long ago. This ain't makin' any sense. How the hell are these buttafackers all the way in Tennessee? Potty-squat! Cockin' up a suckin' of a lifetime, Arnold. Last I heard, bears were seen attacking police units! What in the fack is goin' on?"

"It is confusing, sir. How could the suspects have traveled that far so quickly?" Arnold asked.

"You're a waste of my time, Arnold, a waste of my time! I'm gonna make another go at the geezer." The sheriff stated, stretching as he stood up and tried to work out the soreness from his legs. He then walked into another room, where Arnold followed. Present were Investigator Kearse, the Russian investigator, Officer Peter, Officer Bob, Officer Robert, and Officer Willard.

"Aight. Anyone make any progress?" The sheriff asked.

"Progress on what?" Bob asked. "I made some progress with that redhead last night!"

"Bob, go take out the trash." The sheriff ordered.

"What?" Bob asked, huffing and puffing suddenly.

"Take out the trash, back-straddler." The sheriff grew stern.

"Nobody cares about the fuckin' trash." Bob protested. The sheriff approached him slowly.

"I left a half-eaten pastry in there last night. If I have to look at it one more time, your ass is gonna be more fired than the Fourth of July." The sheriff threatened. Bob huffed and puffed again before exiting in a hurry. "Now. You, Russian... what was your name?"

"Harry." The Russian investigator replied.

"Harry." The sheriff paused. "That ain't a Russian name. Anyhow, since you're finally back from your time in the hospital followin' your encounter with this very geezer, maybe you can contribute something to this investigation. Did you get anything out of 'em, Harrison?"

"Nothing too substantial, but he gave me some cryptic messages about why he attacked me." Harry replied. "Sir, I must say, you were right all along... magic is real! I... I'm not sure what to think about anything now."

"Spit it out, son." The sheriff gestured.

"Well, you can listen to the tape, but he went on about the protection of dairy products... something to do with keeping his cheese out of the hands of wrongdoers." Harry explained. "I'm still not sure how he used that stick to make lightning."

"Yes yes, the wizarding world of Harry the investigator... I knew I should've been a writer." The sheriff spat. "Anyhow, did he spill the beans to anyone else? Hmm?"

"How bout you, Robert? Did you get anything?" Peter asked.

"Not too good." Robert replied. "I mean, when he starts talking about prophecies and cheese and stuff, you can understand him okay, more or less, but then if you question him specifically, his topic is goin' all over, and you're interrogatin' blind."

"We ran some tests on his weapon, sir. It appears to have no hidden functions." Investigator Kearse explained. "There were no traces of metal or other materials within the item either. It's simply nothing more than a log."

"You saw what it could do, though." Peter replied. "Dat thing might as well been a laser shooter!"

"Dummit-gad." The sheriff moaned. "The buttfellas are all the way across the country and we're sittin' here gettin' our asses handed to us on a paper plate by some geezer in his shit-stained panties!"

"I woulda gotten more out of 'em if somebody else hadn't spooked 'em earlier." Peter commented.

"Who the hell spooked 'em?" The sheriff asked.

"Willard." Peter pouted.

"Well conduct your own damn interrogation!" Willard protested. "I tried every trick in the book with that guy! He just kept gettin' grumpier and grumpier. He had an answer to everything! I tried my best and all I hear is criticize, criticize, criticize."

"Nobody's sayin' we don't appreciate your efforts, Willard, but how the HELL did some measly little weasel like you manage to spook a geezer with an asshole that tight?"

"All I did was give 'em the usual protocol, sir." Willard replied. "I told 'em the rules and the consequences for his crimes and all that, but he wouldn't have none of it! He said we was meaningless insects and that the true mongers of the world would smite us any day now. What am I supposed to say to that, huh?"

"Gentlemen, it's these moments that require someone to do the right thing-the necessary thing... the unpleasant thing. I'll handle this geezer myself, but prepare transportation to Tennessee. I want those buttafingas in custody!" The sheriff exited and headed for the holding room. He passed a few officers and then unlocked the door, entering in a slow pace. "Good day, sir." He said proudly. "Since you won't tell us your name and we can't seem to find any records, I suppose that's what I'll call ya. Actually, I think I prefer geezer."

"I won't speak to you." The old man from the shack, who was sitting at a small white table, looked away from the sheriff. "You will regret your actions soon enough."

"Well, that's the thing, geezah..." The sheriff began. "I don't regret a thing. I've tracked these mafians through four states. I've been in pursuit of 'em for months now, and from the looks of things I'll be spendin' a lot more time thinkin' about 'em. I'd do it all over again if I had to, though. I reckon these buttafingas would go unpunished if not for my efforts."

"The consumers should not concern you. You are interfering in matters which are beyond your comprehension. Cease your harassment now, or you will be smote." The old man replied.

"You see, this is why I'm in 'ere talkin' to ya." The sheriff sneezed. "I know that you know more about these issues. I know that you serve Gravy Bones, the ruthless leader of a thought-to-be-dead mafia."

"Gravy Bones?" The old man hesitated. "I... I don't think you understand what you're talking about, sir."

"But you do know 'em." The sheriff concluded. "Ya can't hide the look on your face. Your wrinkles are saggier than my wife's taters. I'll know every twitch in yer face."

"Bones is a grater." The old man replied. "He is not involved in these matters."

"I beg to differ, son." The sheriff replied. "Y'see, the reason I was promoted to Sheriff in the first place was that I was a key element in bringin' down this mafia and its affiliated businesses. My associates and I were the most thorough you could ask for; we were like chicken fried steak. We may taste like shit, and we may be extremely hard to swallow, but we were the toughest, grungiest items on the menu. Even Gravy Bones ran away when I arrived on the scene. The higher-up mafians would rather hire serial killers like Barbooza to defend 'em than face us in the field. Unfortunately for him, I shot that butterfacker in the chest."

The sheriff continued, wiping more snot from his nose and lazily tossing the used tissues to the ground. "These mafians would also employ bears to their aid. It was like nothing we'd even seen! I mean, who the fack tames a whole horde of bears? Who'd-a-thunk-it? Anyhow, we learned to deal with that too, eventually, but Gravy Bones... he disappeared. We never got 'em. Ever since then, I've been waitin' for another chance at that sonuvabitch."

"I doubt you'd recognize him now." The old man grumbled.

"I wudn't finished, geezer." The sheriff retorted, grabbing a bag of pretzels and offer the old man one. The man refused, so the sheriff took one, ate it, and then put the bag away. "So when I show up at a crime scene and see the strangest things, and I mean the most shit-your-panties crazyass toe jam, I know somethin good is goin'. Well, not good in the sense that the greater good of humanity is in benefit, but good in the sense that we've got a real show on our hands. Y'see, there was a certain distinction to the crime scenes left by Bones and his mafians. Not only the bears, the pizzas, the butter, and the certain particular cases of violence, but there's just a certain... feeling... in the air."

"You might make a skilled sorcerer yourself," the old man commented, "if you had the stomach for it."

"HEH-hahaha, nah, I wouldn't dare delve into the darkness of saurcery and the arts of mafian fortune tellers, but I sure do know how to pick one out who does." The sheriff responded. "I've always had a keen sense for the cases connected to the dark deeds of the mafia I was charged with dismantlin'. The only other person with that manner of skill was slain in combat by Barbooza himself, but I've remained, just as determined as ever to put an end to these mafians, their bears, and their shenanigans."

"If I needed your history, I'd read into your past through your mind." The old man replied. "You seem to be under the impression that I hold valuable information, but your theories are simply... theories. You are mistaken, and your tales bore me."

"Well, it seems as though your source of magic has been removed!" The sheriff belched. "Without your handy-dandy walking stick, you can't do shit! That reality on its own is making me have a very good day. Look, you and I never exactly got along... obviously I'm not your favorite guy out there, but I've been at this for a long time. I ain't stoppin' now, and refusin' to divulge information is only gonna delay the inevitable, geezer. Help a man out. I'm clearly tryna do the right thing here."

"You don't even understand what the 'right' thing is, fool. Your vendetta is the only source of your willpower, and without your passion for spite, you would be nothing. Your soul is empty. Your purpose is... purposeless." The old man commented.

"My soul's only empty when my stomach is." The sheriff replied. "But it ain't my spirit that I'm worried about. I sleep well at night. Well, that's cause I go to bed with empty balls and a full belly... but I also sleep well because I operate within the law. That's what separates you from me. Hell, you could be a law-enforcin' wizard for all I care... but you're more of the old, retired outlaw magician, it seems to me. You attacked my fellow officers and clearly have information regardin' criminal activities. Refusin' to divulge said data is, obviously, against the law. You know Gravy Bones, and you were spotted at two crime scenes states apart from each other. You're dead to rights, geezer... but that can change."

"There's nothing you can do to aid me. I will be free of these infernal bonds soon enough, and this prison will seem like a faded memory." The old man responded.

"Actually, I can aid ya, buttfungus. Ya ain't magicianin' yer way outta this cell, and I'm sure the mafians wouldn't enjoy you tattlin' on their affairs. Whoever yer workin' with would probably dispose of your old, wrinkly, saggy flesh the moment you got outta here if you handed us over any crucial info." The sheriff yawned. "Ya gotta protect your own ass, as usual... but nobody would have to be aware of your cooperation. Y'see, if you help me, I'll help you, geezer. I'm not beyond allowin' some old man to live out his last few years in a cabin in the woods. Granted, we can't let you keep that saucerer's weapon, but I reckon you won't harm anyone without it."

"You are indeed desperate." The old man sighed tiredly. "Life and death are merely fragments of this realm's true form. Measuring one's existence in age is like trying to grab a handful of water and pour it into a measuring device. You will never truly handle the material properly until you truly understand the material. You can indeed cup a small portion of the water into your hand, splash it into a container and determine how much you grabbed... but you'd be clawing at tiny drops before you ever truly moved all of the liquid. Even then, how much of the material did you absorb into yourself? How much knowledge did you consume without even realizing it?"

"Well, I don't speak in riddles, buttfella, but I do know that I'm your only shot at gettin' outta here." The sheriff replied. "You've gotta be able to tell me somethin' of importance."

"I don't have what you want, and, even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you." The old man stated. "But I will say one thing... things are not as they seem. Gravy Bones is living a fate worse than death, and these so-called mafia members may be dealing with more problems than you right now. If you pursue this, dark deeds will follow."

Before the sheriff could respond, another officer knocked.

"Sheriff Lambert?" Asked Officer Blademorgan, entering slowly.

"How the hell do you know my name now, buttfungus?" The sheriff asked.

"I was finally able to identify you, since you seem so reluctant to state your name." Blademorgan moaned. "Sheriff Lambert of Colorado... what the hell are you doing in South Dakota?"

"Son, this ain't none of your business." The sheriff stood up, turning away from the old man and facing his new talking partner. "I'm what you call an international officer, Officer Bladmorgan."

"I'm not sure what the sheriff of this county would have to say about that..." Blademorgan muttered. The two exited the holding room. "Besides, this isn't our problem anymore. The authorities in Sharon, Tennessee are tending to Parax and his motley crew."

"Yes, 'Parax'... who is this guy you keep mentioning?"

"He's the man who attacked me, you idiot, weren't you listening?" Blademorgan pouted. "I swear, you're the worst coworker ever. But hey... gotta do what you gotta do. Unfortunately for you, I don't have to work with you anymore. Once we wrap this up here, I'm done."

"That's right... 'cept we haven't been able to identify anybody with the name of Parax Chuchuoverlord." The sheriff replied. "Mind spillin' the beans, veggies, meatballs, or whatever it is you got to spill?"

"That's just a codename, he called himself the overlord of chu-chus... I have no idea what that means." Blademorgan replied. "I encountered him before... it was a nightmare."

"Yes, and everything involved with these cockbaskets seems to be a nightmare... but you've been holdin' back information, son." The sheriff continued.

"I'll pull up any info I can find on what happened, but not much will be found. He covered his tracks. He's smart, he's determined, and he doesn't do anything on accident. That's why I was surprised to see him here! Why he would be involved in this... I don't know." Blademorgan mumbled.

"Well, Bladmorgan, you get me that background. Even if you can't prove it, I'll at least take your word for it--you aren't smart enough to be much of a liar." The sheriff replied. "We know about this Parax guy and we know about the fat guy... that's a good enough start."

"Yessir." Blademorgan nodded. "On another note, the reason I disturbed you was that we have one more matter to tend to here. The injured victim wants to give some statements to the authorities, but he'll only talk to, and I quote, 'the man in charge.' I suppose that's you."

"Yep, that's me, Officer Bladmorgan." The sheriff promptly grabbed a grape Jolly Rancher from a bowl nearby and stuck it in his mouth. "It sure as hell ain't you." With that the sheriff exited the hallway and made his way through a few more rooms. He passed some quiet, dull looking offices and some officers standing about before he finally reached his destination: a small room with a table, a few decorative plants, and a soda machine which only had Coca Cola. Sitting on one side of the desk and tapping its leg with his foot was a very impatient Blake Stewart.

"Finally." Blake moaned, only connecting in eye contact with the sheriff for a brief second. Both of his hands were completely wrapped up and he could barely move them, so he rested them on the table hopelessly. He couldn't even move his thumbs, much less pick up the can of soda which someone had thoughtlessly opened for him. "Sheriff Lambert, right? I heard you were the guy in charge of these people."

"That's right, son." The sheriff took a seat, comfortably scooting into position. After glancing at Blake, he took the soda for himself and drank a good gulp, swallowing his Jolly Rancher with it. "And I heard you had information that might be instrumental in the apprehension of the jokas who injured ya."

"Yes." Blake replied. "But first I want to make sure I'll be rewarded."

"Rewarded?" The sheriff raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. What's the point of telling you anything if I don't get anything? Lol." Blake asked.

"Maybe the satisfaction of knowing that the suspects have been taken into custody will warm your good heart, son." The sheriff spoke slower than usual and paused between words.

"Well, yeah, that will make me happy. But that's not enough." Blake replied. "I should get like, paid. I don't care how much, I mean, lol, obviously it has to be a fair amount, but whatever you think. Like, I don't wanna be greedy. But after what I've dealt with... well, uh, rofl, I should definitely be compsated or something."

"Compsated?" The sheriff asked.

"Yeah, totally. I mean, why the fuck not? Lol." Blake responded. At this point, the sheriff took another drink of the soda and sighed.

"Son..." he began, looking up at a plant. "You expect to be paid for providin' information to the authorities? No. Negative, buttafinga."

"What? Why not?" Blake asked. "Like, dude, if I spill, you will have these guys in no time! I'm talking next level shit goin' down here. This is BIG."

"If I started handing out checks to people claimin' to have valuable data, then everybody would claim to have valuable data." The sheriff sneezed. "Look, son, there are rules in place here which your tiny little brain can't understand."

"Rules? RULES!?" Blake shouted. "I'm sick and tired of hearing about shitty rules! Like, come on. I try to obey the rules, and you people just make up new ones to criminate me! LOL!"

" 'Criminate'." The sheriff chuckled silently.

"And tiny brain? Me? I have a tiny brain!?" Blake nearly suffocated. "You know who has a tiny brain? The guy who shot me in the hand! The guy you could be catching if you weren't so arrogant. He's got a tiny brain and you still can't get him! Some kind of cop you are, huh? Maybe I'll just leave. Why tell you anything? Nah. I think I'll just get the hell outta here."

"Blake Stewart..." The sheriff wiped his nose, adjusted his pants, and took another drink of the soda.

"What?" .

"You are an associate of Tyler Crossbones, are you not?" The sheriff asked.

"Yeah, so?"

"You are aware of his criminal activities?"

"I heard some things... why?" Blake pouted, his hands twitching.

"Local records describe a very lengthy conversation with Mr. Crossbones on some of the illegal trading he was participating in. He had lots to say about your establishment as well. Now, we've got several witnesses who claim you've had frequent outbursts at your store. You've disturbed the peace and given the impression to many that you're a drug dealer laundering money through your... what was it, entertainment shop? Anyhow, we know where to look to find out whatever you've been doing to keep your business afloat. I know you're involved with some interesting fellas. I know your business ain't legitimate."

"Wow, really?" Blake remarked. "You're accusing me of breaking the law? ROFL! You're just mad, huh? How mad are you? Omg. You just can't stand it that I'm right and you're wrong. You can't handle the fact that you HAVE to pay me."

"Well, this isn't my town, but the locals here say they have enough to pursue you and drag your buttery ass to a cell. I suppose it ain't worth their time, plus they figure you ain't hurtin' nobody." The sheriff sighed, taking another sip. "Mmm. That's a good soda pop. As I was sayin', your buddy Tyler spilled some nice baked beans with extra bacon bits for added measure. You know the sweet southern style kind? Delicious. He squawked about some kinda island y'all jokas used to go to... whoo-wee, that's some good shit there." With that, the sheriff took a good look at Blake, who was now silent. Instead of his usual bloated expression, Blake was... shaking. He seemed on the verge of madness and despair simultaneously. "Mashed potatoes and gravy. Now, there are also records of you threatening customers. That's just somethin' ya don't do, son. So, you're a drug dealer from an island known for criminals working with an illegal trader of various items, and you abuse the few customers you even have in your illegitimate DvD shop. Those are some nice veggies."

"Look, I may have done some things I'm not proud of. Small, insignificant things! Things you can overlook! I said I was sorry to everyone." Blake pouted. "But look! I'm the VICTIM! I can't use my hands! I shouldn't be the one punished here. Yeah, I've made some mistakes, but I... I can make it better. Trust me. I've changed."

"Well, every meal needs a good slice of meat to give it that protein! We've got bacon in the beans, but I think we need a larger piece to satisfy us large, hungry men. We are all animals, after all, ain't that alright? Mm." The sheriff belched, flexing his cheeks and smacking. "Here's the meat: Have you ever heard the name John Breasly?

"No." Blake said immediately. "I mean, uh, like, it doesn't seem familiar."

"Well, that's a curious thing, 'cause Mr. Crossbones says otherwise. He said you and Mr. Breasly were tight buddies at one point!" The sheriff replied. "That is a juicy piece of meat."

"Look, fine. I'll tell you everything." Blake frowned. "But you have to promise I'll get off free."

"Of course!" The sheriff clapped. "After all, you aren't worth our time, ain't that right?"

"Okay, so, the guy who shot me is Richard Goldvane. He was an administrator at the POTCO Player Island you talked about. Another guy is Parax... he was also an admin. Both of them were horrible, biased, corrupt, and super angry." Blake explained.

"This Parax fellow... he got a last name?" The sheriff asked, taking notes.

"Nope, people just called him Par... but he didn't say much. Goldvane, though, he was a real piece of shit. Dude's a pissy crybaby who wants to shoot you when he doesn't get his way!" Blake shouted.

"Anybody else you can identify?" The sheriff inquired.

"Uh... one guy's name was Bill." Blake replied. "He wasn't from the island though. Some other guy was called kink something..."

"The kinkmeister." The sheriff gritted his teeth. "We'e heard whispers and rumors of this man, but have so far been unable to identify him. Keep goin'."

"Well, I don't know the others, but there was a fat guy and a guy with blue hair." Blake explained. "Then the dick cutter girl showed up. Lol, I kinda liked her. She sliced off Goldvane's penis! ROFL! Good stuff."

"That about matches the descriptions. Hell, Bladmorgan was right... there is a guy named Parax." The sheriff scoffed. "So, what else ya got?" A few more minutes passed as the sheriff milked any information out of Blake, who cooperated willingly, despite a few screaming sessions. The sheriff eventually emerged from the room only to be immediately approached by Blademorgan.

"Sir, you have calls from Colorado pending, and the others want to know what Stewart had to say." Blademorgan said. "It's quite urgent."

"Stewart's guilty, but he cooperated. Arrest 'em if you want. I'm all done with that buttfungus." The sheriff replied.

"Did he provide any help?"

"Somewhat. I've just about narrowed down the mafians, although I've heard they're traveling in larger numbers now. We're gettin' closer, buttfella." The sheriff nodded.

"And the calls from Colorado?" Blademorgan asked.

"Wrong number." The sheriff spat. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a much more important phone call to make." With that, the sheriff headed into another room, this time locking the door and closing the blinds. He appeared to be in the investigator's office, and there were files lying about which pertained to the group and their various crime scenes. The sheriff's items apparently occupied a single corner in the room, and he procured a suitcase which had to be unlocked. From it he pulled a small container, which also had to be opened, and procured a set of notes from that. On the thirty-seventh page was a single phone number written twelve times. The unorthodox law enforcer dragged a cell phone from his pocket and nearly placed his finger on the keys to call the number, but he was startled: he instantly received a call... from none other than the number itself. Hesitantly, the sheriff picked up. "Yello."

"Sheriff Lambert." A voice responded, deep and somewhat disinterested.

"Yessum." The sheriff replied. "Is this... Mr. Baldwin?"

"What do you think?" The voice asked. "You know what? Nevermind. Your answer is too long."

"I never did understand your way of talkin'."

"You want my assistance apprehending the criminals you're investigating." Mr. Baldwin spoke.

"How'd you kn-nevermind. That's right, I figured you'd have valuable information regarding these buttfellas." The sheriff coughed. "They're moving too fast for me to keep up."


"Scuse'em? Why what?"

"Why would I have what you need?" Baldwin asked.

"Well, you certainly aided us tremendously in our pursuit of Gravy Bones." The sheriff replied proudly. "I shouldn't have to remind you that you volunteered for that."

"It suited my best interests." Baldwin replied. "What makes you think this will?"

"Well, for one thing, Bones' signature is all over this shit... we've got bears and mafians and saucerers involved. I even apprehended one saucer who nearly wiped out my entire team."

"No name?"


"Did he have paper clips for hair?" Baldwin asked plainly.

"What? No, this geezer's got old, white, stringy things on his head."

"Did he use a wooden staff?"

"Yes. He did indeed." The sheriff was now all the more interested.

"Ooh. Tell me, Lambert, what exactly do you want from me?" Baldwin asked.

"I think you'd know that more than I would, actually." The sheriff replied.

"Fair." Baldwin agreed. "And just what exactly do you want to happen to these guys?"


"Fuck!" Baldwin shouted.

"What now?"

"Sorry, I'm playing a videogame. You were saying?" Baldwin resumed his casual way of speaking.

"I want these assfetchers taken into custody and given a nice helping of justice on their fat, greasy plates. Not only that, I want to resume my investigation into Gravy Bones and his mafians. It's about time I resolve that business." The sheriff responded. "You could say my soul hasn't rested since this all began, but I think I just have nothin' left to lose - these buttafingas got me my job, but I've practically wasted it since then. I never truly earned this badge, Mr. Baldwin. It's time I put in the rest of my shift."

"Don't go to Tennessee, then." Baldwin replied. 

"And why's that? We've got their location. They're fleein' into the woods at this point!"

"You'll never find them in time. Not unless you use your brain." Baldwin commented. "Ah, come on... yes! Finally."

"What? A-are you accusin' me of brain misuse? Son, I have been in pursuit of these gee-" A loud, static noise was heard. Before the sheriff could go on, he had to pull the phone away from his ear to avoid the noise. Then it stopped.

"If you address me as 'son' again, I'll arrange a meeting with Gravy Bones during which he will literally eat you alive." Mr. Baldwin replied. The sheriff didn't have a response. "Now, as I was saying, you have to stay one step ahead of your opponents. Always. That's my specialty, as it happens."

"But how in the world does one predict where these mafians will end up? They're random as can be. We've discovered nothin' connectin' their various scenes of chaos." The sheriff grew frustrated. "Mistah, last time we worked together it was very beneficial to my investigation, but now you're speakin' in riddles just like the old man. I don't have time for this... and threatenin' an officah of the law is no-good feet-lickin."

"Last time was different -- entirely different." Baldwin replied. "Last time was failure. I got what I needed just before I realized what I needed wasn't actually something I needed. The group you're tracking is involved with much more than even you realize. I'd be wisest to let them continue, but I'll give them to you if you give something to me."

"And what is that?" The sheriff quacked.

"You never catch on. I guess everything I say goes over your head." Baldwin replied. "I want the wizard's staff. Simple, no pain for you, and lots of pain for me."

"Lots of pain for you? Sounds like you'd be causin' a lot of pain to others if you possessed a weapon like that." The sheriff replied.

"Oh, trust me, it won't exactly be used as a weapon, and I only plan to bring pain to one person... and anyone else if they get in the way. Collateral damage is always hit and miss." Baldwin responded. "You don't even know how to use that staff."

"Well, if I had to choose a walking stick, I certainly wouldn't pick that one." The sheriff commented, looking at the ground. The tiles of the floor nearly faded into one in his head as he hesitated. "I'm sorry, buttsnatcher, but I can't make that trade. I can't hand over a dangerous super laser weapon to a man I haven't even met in person. I was hopin' you, being the good samaritan that you are, would willingly assist in the capture of these dangerous fugitives. Seems I was wrong - you're only in this shizit for personal gain. I must confess myself disappointed, but then again, I never have expected much from the human race." 

"You sure? It's your best option." Baldwin replied.

"Sorry mistah, but I'll decide myself what my best options are. I'll find these mafians myself, if I have to die in a ditch doin' it." The sheriff responded.

There was a pause.

"I'm gonna hang up the phone now." Baldwin said, and the call went dead. Sighing, the sheriff erased the call from his phone and put his papers away. He studied the pile of notes on the group and the several drawings from eye witnesses. There were records of interrogations of the Spanish mechanics, but two of them had apparently gone insane during questioning and none of them would give up anything. All of the pink vans were taken into evidence, but the local authorities ended up donating them to a school. 

"Shoulda grabbed that fat guy while I had the chance." The sheriff said to himself, wadding up a drawing of Boogie and tossing in in the garbage. He looked over the records of each civilian or officer harmed or killed by the group, and found studied research on the population of bears in each area observed. "Gum-dad bears." he swatted the papers aside. He heard a few noises outside his room and finally grabbed his phone, stuffed it in his pocket, and unlocked the door - he left the room to the sound of Blake Stewart.

"DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK!? WE HAD A DEAL!" Shouted Blake as Blademorgan slapped cuffs on his wrists. 

"What deal? I didn't hear about a deal. Keep moving." Blademorgan ordered.


"I'm sorry, what in the hell are ya talkin' about, son?" The sheriff asked calmly. 



Chapter 41: Gathering ConsumersEdit

The hour was 11:49 PM. Walker, having heard enough of Dent and Chey's conversation, sneaked out of the restaurant and into the humid, misty air of Tennessee's atmosphere. He stood on the sidewalk, watching the streets grow more asleep with every passing minute. Only a few cars made their way by at the late hour, and Walker felt safe enough to move around. He hiked across the concrete, his march sloppier and more half-assed than every before. His legs barely shot up at all after his steps, although there was clearly an effort to make them do so. It was as if he were simply kicking his feet forward slightly with each step. This pattern caused him to nearly trip multiple times, but he kept his pace, circling the restaurant and stopping only when he passed the window next to Dent and Chey's booth. He would observe them laughing and smiling, then proceed before they could notice him.

Eventually he encountered an Asian woman leaving the restaurant. He stopped her and pulled on her arm.

"Miss? Excuse me, I need your bag." Walker proceeded to snatch the woman's purse from her. She yelped, but Walker dumped out all of her items onto a small bench. "I'm so sorry for this, but I assure you that your contribution will be remembered in the coming ages of Ood."

"Help! Someone help! He's taking my purse!" The woman cried.

"No no! I'm not stealing anything! I'm making a purchase." Walker then procured a small wrapper of bubble gum and handed it to the woman. "Here is compensation for your generosity! I assure you, it is the most highly recognized and hardest to come by flavor in all of the lands." He then grabbed a random plastic trash bag which was being thrown around by the wind and tossed all of the woman's possessions into the bag, handing it to her. She made a horrified expression, but she took the gum and the bag and then ran off. Nobody was there to hear her shouts anyway. Walker put the purse's strap over his shoulder and continued his sluggish march until he finally tripped, falling straight off of the sidewalk and into a puddle in the unforgiving pavement of the parking lot. This ruined what was left of his hairdo. He climbed back onto the sidewalk and sat there, staring into the puddle until he heard a voice calling out from the woods.

"Dumbass!" Bill repeated two times, squawking in his Bane voice almost like a bird. It took Walker a moment to realize where the voice originated, but he stood up and marched over to it once he readjusted himself. 

"Bill! What are you doing?" Walker asked.

"What are you doing, Mr. Walker?" Bill asked. "Did you just assume there were other dumbasses nearby? Well, there are quite a few dumbasses here, by my calculations... but I was addressing you... and only you."

"What's going on? Are you alone?" Walker asked.

"Nigh." Bill broke into his Davy Jones voice again. "They'll not be far behind. Full bore into the woods-ah."

"But Dent and Chey are in that restaurant." Walker replied.

"Do they serve steak-ah?" Bill asked. "Perhaps I shall pay them a visit."

"No, their food is actually quite disappointing. On Ood, it would simply be used as fuel. Food like that has no place being eaten by people. You see, while you may call it fast food, we on Ood consider it fat food. It is only produced because of its speed, but it offers no benefits to those who eat it, so it is sent straight to the fuel plant to be used to power our mechanical unicorns."

"In that case, I have no need for that shit-ah." Bill replied as the others arrived. Noah, Nnam, Keira, and Squirt huried through the bushes. 

"Ah... look at you, standing here, drenched in stench." Noah commented. "You have located the blue-haired man!"

"Dent and Chey are inside."  Walker explained again, a sound of near-suicidal irritation in his voice.

"Thank God, she's okay." Nnam sighed in relief. "Fuck, she's with that guy." He rushed to the restaurant. Inside, Dent and Chey were still giggling when suddenly Mrs. Nice's gaze was instantly directed to the door. In came Nnam, sweating and panicking, his eyes bigger than golf balls and his breathing rapid. His hair was slightly messed up in the front, but in the back it had been completely ransacked as it flew in various directions and even wadded up in a ball on the top of his head. 

"Nnam!" Chey squeaked and ran to him; in this moment Dent had ceased to exist, and the only person, the singular utmost center of the universe... was Nnam. Before Mr. Nice could respond, Chey bumped past a blind Asian man who was attempting to sit down with his wife, knocking the man into a cardboard poster of a chicken and slamming herself against Nnam, embracing with him and locking her limbs around him while their lips made very detailed peace treaties together. 

Unfortunately, when the two of them unlocked from their kiss, they were both slightly stunned to see Dent standing right next to them.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm." Dent gave his input as his women smiled instinctively, both of them posing like models on a game show. "Kink it up bebies."

"Dude..." Nnam produced a sound that was a combination of a scoff and a laugh, then moved Chey and himself away from the Kinkmeister. "You're so fuckin' weird." Despite the context, Nnam smiled, clearly feeling no more competition from Dent.

"Nnam, language." Chey frowned and gently touched Nnam's cheek, mimicking a slap evoking an "OOH" sound from Mr. Nice. Unfortunately, this brought Nnam's gaze back to her, forcing the two hormone-filled soul mates to immediately come together for another kiss. Even Dent seemed caught off guard by this, so he reacted the only way he could.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" Dent shouted. All of the customers looked at him. Dent sat back down. 

"I knew you'd find me." Chey commented. 

"I'm not stupid. The first place you go is always somewhere with food." Nnam smiled. 

"You do know me well." Chey chirped. "Can we go home now?"

"Not yet." Nnam replied immediately. "Let's finish this stuff and help these guys get out of here, and then we can go back to how everything was before this happened."

"But why? We don't owe these people anything." Chey replied.

"I wouldn't have met you if it wasn't for Richard saying sausage!" Nnam reminded her. "Look... without you, I'm nothing. You're everything to me. So I owe Richard everything."

"He pointed a gun at you." Chey responded. "These people behave like children."

"He does that. They do that. They're not exactly normal people." Nnam replied. "But neither are we. They're my friends... at least some of them are. We have to at least make sure they make it out of this okay."

"Nnam, you're blinded by your... niceness." Chey scrunched her face. "They tried to dart us. They were just going to leave us there! Did you see that... fresh guy or whoever that was? He nearly killed all of us and then the police tried to shoot at us! You're spending time with a bunch of criminals!"

"Where is all of this coming from?" Nnam asked. "You seemed fine with helping them before. They need us. Clearly something really important is going on, otherwise they wouldn't have taken such drastic measures to get their cheese or whatever."

"You're blindly trying to justify their actions because Richard said the word sausage." Chey frowned.

"Whatever, you might be right." Nnam replied. "Still, we'll see what happens."

Meanwhile, Par, Cher, and Richard avoided cops and bears alike as they scurried through parking lots and small patches of trees. 

"Where the hell did they all go?" Richard asked.

"Who knows, they can't function properly without us." Par responded.

"You two are always flattering yourselves." Cher added. "At least it's better than flattering each other."

"We've often been accused of that." Richard noted.

"It's funny cause those accusations usually come from the people we're slapping repeatedly." Par added.

"With a fly swatter, no less." Richard commented.

"How and why the fuck did I end up with you two..." Cher muttered.

"I do believe you hand-picked us from the basket of lunatics!" Richard chuckled.

"A good choice." Par added.

"Starting to question it." Cher mumbled.

"Wankers!" Par shouted and the three of them instinctively jumped behind a random truck as a police car came across the street.

"If you shout that loud he might as well hear you before he sees you." Cher remarked.

"Lies. Everyone knows cops listen to music at full volume. They're the only ones who can get away with bass that sounds like an earthquake." Par commented, watching the cop car drive by.

"Country music, no less." Richard remarked. "The horror."

"And you said you grew up in the south." Cher said.

"I said I thought I did... I prefer to delete those memories." Richard responded. "Besides, not everyone from the south has to listen to shitty music."

"Some country music is decent." Cher shrugged.

"Only the older stuff. People fill their ears with garbage these days." Richard replied.

"Hmm." Par said to himself, ignoring the conversation. "The police seemed to get here really quickly. They were already prepared when they arrived too, and they're definitely sticking around now, despite the bears. How nice of them."

"So someone fucked up." Cher concluded.

"So someone tipped them off." Par confirmed.

"So there's a sausage in our company." Richard declared, then looked to Cher. "You're not a sausage, are you?"

"I could be." Cher made a face.

"It's either that or some patriotic civilian decided to call them at lightning speed." Par remarked.

"To be fair, that Reverse Stench fellow was quite the noticeable type." Richard added.

"True, but we were alone, save for him. We made sure of that when we formed our plan, and it's not like us to make that type of miscalculation." Par replied.

"Oh snap." Cher joked, and Richard gave her a blank expression. Par didn't react.

"Well, Cher's a vigilante and the others in our group would've already called the police long ago if they wanted to, so that leaves Keira, Squirt, and the Nice couple." Richard stated.

"As long as it's not Keira, we're fine. She's the only one we need anyways." Par responded.

"Let's hope she and the others even survived." Richard commented.

"Shh." Par shushed. "What's that noise?" A strange, ear-piercing vocalization was heard. It echoed again. "What the fuck is... oh."

"What is that?" Richard.

"It sounds like an old woman having coitus." Cher remarked, then laughed at herself. "What?

"Seems like she's fitting right in." Richard remarked. "Now, what the hell is that?"

"That, my friends, is a baby." Par sighed. One minute later they located the source of the commotion - a large Boogie who was stuck in a bush.

"HALP ME GAWLD, PLEASE! I SEE YOU OVER THERE! Pull me out of this thing-aaaheeeh." Boogie complained, his legs sticking out from the top of the bush.

"Well... that is unfortunate." Par commented. 

"Yeeeah..." Boog admitted. "Like. Can ya each pull on one of my legs and get me outta this thing?" Par and Richard exchanged looks.

"How did you even get in there?" Richard asked. 

"Well, the others didn't want to have to deal with me so they abandoned me and left me all alone in the woods." Boog whined. "They hate me, Gawld. Par... halp." Boogie pushed a twig into Richard's foot. Seeing as he was upside down, Boogie could only see from ground level, and he couldn't tell Richard and Par apart. 

"The others were here? Which way did they go?" Par asked.

"Huergh. Hey Cher. You're a sight for sore balls... hueh." Boogie grumbled. Cher kneeled down to face him.

"Do you know what I do to people, right?" she asked.

"Yeeeah... but, like, you already tried with me! Herherheh... guess I got too much stamina for you." Boogie replied. "But really, there's a branch right in my ballsack."

"Boogie, pay attention." Richard muttered. "Who else was here?"

"Nnam... and that knight guy." Boogie admitted. 

"Just them?" Par asked.

"Hueh... yeah." Boogie frowned, which from their angle looked like a smile.

"Well, that's better than nothing. Can you remember which way they went, or am I going to have to push on that branch?" Par threatened.

"Uh... I think so. They went... " Boogie squiggled. He struggled to move, but he jerked one of his arms in a certain direction. "That a-way." 

"Good job. Let's go." Par turned toward the direction Boog pointed. 

"Hey wait! First get me outta this thing." Boog protested.

"No time for that. Let's move, quick march!" Richard added. Cher laughed at this, and the three of them made their way through the woods.


"We really are mean people." Cher commented.

"Eh, he'll just get transported or whatever if we succeed - if we don't, then we're all dead anyways." Par explained. 

"Besides, who knows how long it would take to remove him." Richard added. 

"I could, just give me a knife and I may cut a few pieces off in the surgery." Cher replied.

"No time for that." Par responded. "There are footsteps and I smell something awful. We're close." 

Meanwhile, the rest of the group met up at the restaurant. Walker, Bill, and Noah elected to remain outside, but the others grouped up in the building. They received some confused looks, but anyone who started dialing 911 was quickly distracted by Dent with offers of his special services. 

"I don't think we should be here." Keira commented.

"Why not? They have great appetizers." Nnam indulged on some chicken wings.

"Ummm... maybe because we could be arrested at any moment?" Keira replied nervously. 

"Yeah, and I'd rather be at home under my bed with a thousand blankets of invincibility wrapped around me like a cocoon of eternal safety." Squirt gave his input.

"Nao nao nao nao nao naaao, beybeys." Dent chimed in. "If there's anything we've learned through out predicament, it's that hiding in plain sight is the best course of action."

"We were all nearly killed and arrested due to one of your group's stupid shenanigans." Keira complained.

"Baybay please, don't be kankidiculous. That's fack." Dent replied and his women shook their heads. "If not for that fresh baybay we would be outta here. That's kink." Dent's women nodded.

"At least get that knight guy to come in here instead of showing off his illegal ass to everyone who drives by." Keira grew frustrated.

"Why's he out there beyboy?" Dent took notice.

"Bitch said he couldn't come in even if he wanted to. No idea what the fuck he means; I can't understand half the shit that guy says. And the other half I can't even hear because of his stupidass helmet!" Nnam complained.

"Language." Chey moaned.

"Sorry honey." Nnam snuggled his oddly-shaped beard into Chey's neck.

Dent walked outside to find Noah, but found himself distracted when he heard a strange noise to his right. Something was moving inside the trash bin.

"What in the fackity..." Dent's women held the door open as he approached the trash. He was then surprised to see Bill's head poking out of the pile of garbage. His face was covered in ketchup and mayonnaise and there was an empty plastic cup leaned against his cheek. "Billy baybay, what are you doin'??" Dent asked.

"I am recharging-ah." Bill declared. 

"Mmmmmmmmm, charge it up baykinkbay... but why the FACK are you in a trash can beyboy!?" 

"I require more stink. I have been robbed of my power. I need steaks and pussies, but when there are none of those nearby, my only hope is the trash." Bill explained. "You should know this by now, Dent bitch. Haven't you been paying attention to ANYTHING I say?"

"Well baybay, I pay attention to everything." Dent replied. "Just like that french fry stuck in your ear." Bill looked shocked by this, and he wiggled his head to feel the fry, but then he did nothing about it and his gaze returned to normal. Suddenly, Noah took notice. Upon seeing Bill in the trash, he simply tapped his helmet. "So Bheely beyboy, you're saying you need to be MORE stinky?"

"Exactly-ah." Bill replied. 

"This guy is either stupid and doesn't know, or a schmuck and doesn't care. It might be both, but it can't be neither." Noah concluded.

"Noah baybay, joinus in the restaurant for kinks! Why ya gotta stay out here in the rain?" Dent asked.

"The blue-haired man and the man drenched in stench are outside, yet you are complacent. You will remain so with me." Noah replied.

"Mmmmmmm. Just come inside anyways beyboy. It won't hurt ya."

"Going in there would alert any customers to my presence. I am a wanted man in shining armor. You don't get much more recognizable than that." Noah explained. "I've already had to incapacitate three ruffians who thought they recognized a TV star."

"Kink." Dent responded. "Then come in here and get away from those kankyfackies."

"It's nothing worth seeing-ah." Bill spat. "They don't even serve steak!"

"BILL, YOU FACKY. It's a Tuesday! Who serves steak on a Tuesday anyways? Just go in and have some kinkyliciously kinked up hot dogs! Mmmm, they are so good bibehs. Mmm." Dent moaned. 

"Can you please... for the love of God... calm the fuck down?" Noah asked.

"MMMM! I will... if you get in the restaurant." Dent replied.

"No." Noah responded.

"But the kink loves you, baybay." Dent added.

"My soul is too hardened to love." Noah replied.

"MMMM! Then prove your hardness by joining us in the restaurant, beyboy." Dent suggested. Bill rolled his eyes at this, and a napkin fell on his face afterwards.

"Nah." Noah replied.


"You know the best part?" Noah asked. "I don't have a reason. I just don't want to."

"Bitchbay, what if we're having a kinkylicious time and you're missin' out?" Dent asked.

"Goody for you." Noah replied and turned away to walk in the opposite direction.


"Do it, pussy." Noah replied.

"I WILL. I'M DOING IT RIGHT NOW. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!" Dent screamed. Noah did not respond to this. When Dent looked to his side again, he noticed that Bill was no longer in the trash. Paying no mind to this, Dent continued screaming until Noah finally reacted.

"Your constant high-pitched tone is giving me conniptions." Noah replied


"Hey. Be nice." Noah replied.

"HEY. GET IN THE RESTAURANT." Dent responded.

"Be nice." Noah repeated.


Meanwhile inside the building, Nnam took notice when Bill, the humanoid toilet, entered with the slamming of a door(which was somehow not noticed by Dent, who was likely far too busy screaming like an idiot). He was covered in trash, dripping blood and ketchup, and flies circled around him as he walked. Each time he took a step forward, the muck that had accumulated on his shoes would squeak loudly. His pants squished as random items fell out of them, and his gaze, which was directly toward the counter where food was ordered, was unmoved. Although his hair was messy and partially hanging in his eyes, he didn't so much as blink as he stomped through the place. Nobody seemed to be able to eat while he was within the proximity, and several customers had to cover their noses as the master of odors walked by. 

"Ooh. Uh, he's not with us." Nnam muttered quietly as he, Chey, Keira, and Squirt clenched their palms to their table, anticipating what Bill might do next. Unlike Walker and Dent, who were outside, these four hadn't encountered Bill as much. To them, he was as unpredictable and dangerous as the Reverse Stench. The woman who was currently stationed at the counter seemed to share this thought as she looked ahead in horror as the harbinger of stink slowly made his way toward her, his expression of tension, building anger, amplifying desperation, and at times extreme agony remaining as he stepped forward. The counterwoman, who was of Asian ethnicity, brushed herself off and straightened her gaze toward the almighty stenchfest whom she was about to encounter. She glanced twice at the menu to prepare for whatever he might order. As Bill made his way forward, some customers were relieved to reopen their noses and resume feasting. However, the mere presence of such an odor seemed to have left them in a state of nausea and disgust, as they dropped their utencils and request their plates be taken away. One man vomited. More and more of them were released of Bill's aura of stench as he walked by, but then he reached the counter, and all those nearby were forced to endure the odor. The woman, whose eyes were larger than golf balls, stuttered before speaking.

"What can I get you today, sir?" She said, nearly gagging. She held her breath for as long as possible. Bill simply stared directly at her, licking his teeth for a moment. He then produced some strange growl before speaking.

"Why are you here?" Bill spoke slowly in a Davy Jones tone, but his vocal chords seemed to be suffering along with the rest of his body. 

"Excuse me, sir?" 

"This isn't an Asian restaurant-ah!" Bill groaned. The woman looked startled and offended, but she searched for the most appropriate reaction.

"We do have rice." 

"NIGH!" Bill placed his hand on the counter. "Make me... a steak-ah." 

"I'm sorry sir, we aren't cooking steaks tonight." The woman replied. Bill paused.

"Ha ha... do you fear... stench-ah?" Bill began. "You know what? Never mind, just make me a steak. I'm sure you have the meat for it."

"I'm afraid we only serve steak on Fridays..." The Asian woman braced herself. Bill inhaled sharply, groaning and exhaling vocally.

"Augh..." He leaned in closer to the woman, staring her directly in the face. "Then tell the cooks...... to pretend it's Friday..... and make me a nice, fat, juicy slab of beef-ah! Medium rare, by the way."

"Sir, we won't get any steaks until Friday morning... but we have a very nice roast beef sandwich! It comes with-" the woman was cut off by Bill swooping his hand away and then flailing his arms around frantically. 


"So you don't want the sandwich?" The woman asked. Bill slammed his fist onto the counter in response.

"Fine. I'll eat your nasty lettuce-infected sandwich if it's the closest thing you have to steak!" Bill responded.

"Okay sir, do you want the combo?" She asked.

"Large-ah." Bill replied.

"Okay! That'll be fourteen dollars and nine cents." The woman stated. Bill paused.

"Hmmm." Bill thought. Suddenly he reached his hand deep into his underpants and procured a small pouch of sorts. It was slimy, greasy, shiny, and stinky. "Go on, open it." The woman looked horrified, but she pulled the sack open only to find something truly bizarre inside.

"Are these... boogers?" The woman asked in disgust.

"My own personal collection-ah." Bill said proudly. "Priceless."

"You expect to pay with this?" The woman asked.

"I'm sure you'll find it a good faith payment. You can pick..... one-ah." Bill decided, looking down happily at his various globs of mucus. "Except that one!" Bill pointed to one booger. "That one must be kept forever. It belonged to..." suddenly, Bill looked off into the distance. He gazed in several directions, almost as if he were looking for something. "Ahh..." Bill's face changed to terror as he desperately turned in various directions. He then looked down at the mucus. "No... it can't be..." 

"Someone call the police!" Shouted a man nearby.

"No! Ooh! Uh, don't worry. Don't do that. I've got this." Nnam sprung to action. "Hey Bill." Nnam said in a faked happy tone. 

"What do you want, ya insolent worthless fool!? Ya duck-fuckin' traitor to yer own wife! A duck! Over your own wife! What a fool." Bill suddenly unleashed his anger. "Do you have any idea what I've been through!? You don't!? Neither do I, so shut the fuck up about it!" Bill shouted. Suddenly, Nnam punched Bill in the face. Failing to see this coming, Bill was caught off guard, but he turned his bleeding face back to Nnam and spat in his face before fainting and falling over. Nnam dragged Bill to the group's booth.

"There. All better." Nnam declared.

"Nice." Chey added. Dent then returned to the building and rejoined the others. Moments later, Richard, Par, and Cher located the restaurant.

"Well, that's definitely our guy." Cher remarked as she saw Noah awkwardly pacing about the sidewalk. 

"And there's Walker." Richard pointed to the blue-haired man who was still sitting on the side of the concrete.

"The others must be inside. Let's go." Par declared and they exited the brush. Cher and Par encountered Noah and headed inside, while Richard went to fetch Walker. 

"Walker! Let's go." Richard suggested. Walker didn't respond. "Well, come on then, we don't have all night." Again, no response. "Something wrong?" Richard laughed. "Well, obviously, many things are wrong... but you seem particularly dejected, even more so than usual."

"I wish I could go back to Ood." Walker muttered. "I wish I could have my bag back. I wish none of this ever happened. You know what? I wish I never met Dent and never got that bag and never encountered Spoderman. Fucking Spoderman of all people, and I have to encounter him TWICE. For fuck's sake."

Richard frowned, realizing that this was going to be a difficult situation. He sat next to Walker, joining him in his ongoing gaze into the puddle of water in the parking lot. Neither of them made eye contact or even flinched, but rather just sat there staring.

"Well, I never volunteered for any of this either. None of us did." Richard added.

"Dent might as well have with his excessively persistent stubbornness on going to random places and meeting random people. Something like this was bound to happen - I knew Boogie was an omen of an ill future." Walker sighed.

"You guys had no idea what you were getting yourselves into." Richard clarified. "Dent may be a bit too 'friendly,' but I don't even think he expected this. I had no idea that Par and I would be cut short of our undercover mission when we ate that special cheese appetizer. Hell, I was just trying to find an excuse to say I was constipated and needed a bathroom break - the people we were sent to locate were so boring. Then everything went black. You, Dent, and Boog were just caught in the crossfire of some really weird shit. And the crazy thing is that this isn't even the strangest thing I've encountered in my lifetime!"

"The Reverse Stench attacked me twice in my lifetime." Walker pouted. "Of all people, I make friends, if that's even what you'd call my relationship with Bill, with the one guy he wants to kill the most."

"Well, if you think about it, that's a good thing." Richard replied. "For one thing, he'll always prioritize killing Bill over you. Plus, it gives you a chance to finally end that miserable sausage's existence."

"I already had that chance!" Walker sighed. "I had the grapes... how did he control them? It worked so well last time."

"How did you even meet him in the first place?" Richard asked.

"I encountered him randomly. He stole my bag and tried to kill some people, but I got him back. I should have killed him all those years ago." Walker mumbled.

"Well, I'm sure we'll get another chance." Richard added.

"Your forced optimism isn't helping." Walker complained.

"It isn't forced. I'm just a naturally happy person! Definitely." Richard stood up. "Really, though. This incident has changed everything for me. Before all of this happened, I wasn't even sure who I was. Hell, I still haven't figured it out. I used to convince myself that I was worthwhile and try and justify what I was doing, but really I was only channeling my inner hatred of stupid people. The Agent of Chaos is more of a coping mechanism."

"That sucks, but what does that have to do with anything?" Walker replied.

"I don't know. Nothing, really. My problems don't mean shit to anyone - but I suppose my point is that you're not the only one who isn't exactly having a great time. All of this time away from home and away from the people I'm used to is just forcing me to face my failures and my lack of importance to... well, anyone." Richard continued.

"At least you can remain calm through it all. I can't just turn a blind eye when bullshit is happening." Walker added. "Your problem is yourself. You can fix that easy! In Ood, we have machines that make people rethink their own lives and realize what they're doing wrong. My problem is that nothing is going my way, and even though I'm constantly running away from things like a pissed off rabbit that just wanted a simple damn carrot, I can't ever avoid anything!"

"You think I remain calm? Have you seen me when I have something to drink?" Richard asked.

"No, I've only seen you when you've had a soda." Walker corrected.

"Same thing." Richard sighed. "Either way, we all have shit we deal with. It isn't fun, but it won't fix itself. Come on. You can't stare at that puddle forever."

"You bet I can." Walker argued. "But fine. Only because I'm thirsty now and need a drink, and thanks to Spoderman stealing my bag, I now have been deprived of my infinite supply of chocolate milk."

"Sure thing." Richard remarked. He and Walker entered the restaurant to hear a commotion.

"And why is Bill sleeping!?" Par asked. He and Cher had joined the others near their table.

"OOH! UH, like, dude, he was shouting and disturbing people, like you're doing right now. He was causing shit and I knocked him out. No harm, no problem." Nnam explained.

"And the rest of you? What are your excuses for just sitting around here wanking your lives away? We have shit to get done." Par complained. 

"Man, we were attacked by a wizard, a bunch of bears, and the police. We're just trying to stay away from all that." Squirt argued. 

"You think you've seen anything? We've been dealing with that shite for this entire debacle! You all need to actually stay focused on the plan at hand, or you're all going to end up killed." Par responded. 

"You haven't even explained to us what the fuck is going on. You tried to dart us for no fucking reason. Shut the fuck up about plans and actually TELL us the plan." Nnam became angry.

"I don't think you could comprehend it." Par remarked.

"Sausages!" Richard added as Walker stole Nnam's soda. "We've alerted everyone to our attention. We can talk about this later, but it's time we get the hell out of here."

"No. We're not leaving until you tell us what the fuck is going on." Nnam declared.

"Might as well just tell them. They won't believe it anyways." Walker muttered.

"Who knows, they've already seen some weird shit. I wouldn't be surprised by any of this." Cher added.

"In Ood, this would be worked out so easily. So unfortunate."

"Well, I suppose I better sit down then while everyone looks at us and wonders if they should call the authorities." Richard remarked.

"Don't worry baybaaay, I've already had talks with all of these fine, smexy kinks." Dent explained.

"Very well." Richard replied as the group gathered around. Noah stood by the window so that he could hear them. "So Par, Bill, and I found ourselves in the desert..." after several moments of strange tales, the story was nearly concluded. "... and that's when we were teleported from the Cheese Palace to this lovely town of Sharon, Tennessee where we embarked to locate the cheese and return it to its rightful owner. Did I miss anything?"

"Only small bits." Walker added.

"So you guys are just mentally challenged, right?" Squirt asked. "None of that could actually happen."

"You did see the air demon guy, right?" Keira asked. "Besides, it all adds up to what happened before."

"Indeed. We certainly didn't want any of this to happen, but if we want to survive we have to get this show on the road." Walker commented.

"Wow." Nnam paused. "You guys dealt with a shitton of... shit. It's making a lot more sense now."

"Wow." Chey repeated, and Walker rolled his eyes.

"Still, why the fuck did you not say this to begin with?" Nnam asked.

"Nnam! Languaaaage." Chey moaned. 

"Ooh! Uh, sorry." Nnam mumbled.

"Not enough time, and there was no reason to think you'd believe us." Par explained. "So, with all that said and done, we'd really appreciate it if you'd help us get this shite over with."

"Yeah, I'm down for that." Nnam added. 

"Might as well end this rollercoaster once and for all." Keira commented.

"Seriously? You guys want to do MORE of this?" Squirt asked.

"Yep." Nnam replied. "Squirt, buddy, you need to just shut the fuck up and start rolling with the program. I mean, come on." 

"Wow. I thought we were friends, Nnam." Squirt complained. 

"Squirt, please just grow up. These are Nnam's friends - all we have to do is help them find their cheese and then they'll be gone. If you don't want to join, I'll revoke all of the money I gave you and have you arrested for sexual abuse." Chey commented. Squirt nearly had a heart attack.

"Wait, whoa, what!?" Nnam interrogated.

"I never assaulted anyone except my Lizzy! And that's another story." Squirt defended himself.

"My word against yours." Chey chirped with a smile. Squirt silenced himself.

"So you actually get teleported once you hold the cheese? All of you?" Nnam inquired. The group nodded. "That's sick."

"I still don't understand the part about the cheese people." Keira admitted.

"And where do the bears come from?" Nnam asked.

"I assure you there are confusing and entertaining answers to all of those questions. Unfortunately, it would take much longer to explain, and, as much as I'd like to do that, we need to get the hell out of here." Richard stated, standing up.

"I'm afraid I can't let y'all leave." Said a random restaurant employee. "I knew those sirens meant some bad folks were 'round here. Should've known as soon as you rascals came in here. All customers should make their way out of the store! We're dealin' with criminals here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but we really need to be going." Richard grabbed a random plastic fork and tossed it at the man, who flinched slightly when hit by it. "Run!" Richard declared as he made his way out of the restaurant. 

"Jerry! Grab the broom!" Said the employee as he lunged forward, but suddenly Dent came from behind and procured his pink comb. He moved it through the man's hair slowly, and instantly the employee stopped in his tracks. Dent repeated this process, and the man simply stood there paused.

"Kink?" Dent asked.

"...Kink." Confirmed the man.

"Mmmm. Kink." Dent repeated as Par shook Bill around to wake him up. 

"Come on Bill, you can't check out now. You are needed for the survival of the human race!" Par pleaded. Suddenly, Bill's arm sprung to life and his finger unexpectedly reached into his own nose. procuring a booger from inside, Bill sprung to action and stood up.

"Mr. Nice!" Bill squawked. "Count your stinks." Bill warned, sticking the booger on one of his teeth and swallowing it as he somehow picked up an entire booth and tossed it through the window. He proceeded to jump out said window.

"Time to go." Walker concluded. "And I didn't even get any chocolate milk."

The group proceeded to exit the restaurant, grouping up on the sidewalk where Noah was standing.

"Are you with us? Cause we're leaving." Par asked.

"Of course! I shall remain by your side until that frizzy hipster is apprehended and my sword is recovered." Noah replied. "As for now, though, we cannot proceed. A chicken blocks the path!" Noah pointed toward a man holding a shotgun and covering behind the opened door of his pickup truck.

"You fellas best just stay right there! I will shoot!" Said the man. "I've already called the police!"

"Shall I handle this myself?" Richard prepared his pistol.

"Or me-ah?" Bill sniffed.

"Pretty sure I'm faster than any of you." Cher added.

"No need, baybays, no need." Dent declared as the employee slowly walked across the sidewalk.

"Everything... is fine." said the employee. "It's all a mistake. Simple miscommunication. These aren't criminals!" The man spoke in a strange monotone voice now, as if all life had been drained from him.

"You work here?" Asked the shotgun man.

"Yessir." The employee replied, walking across the parking lot toward the man, who seemed suspicious.

"Hey! Don't come no closer." Said the shotgun man.

"It's all good. Just a misunderstanding." The employee continued forward. The other man lowered his weapon, but still kept it ready for the approaching employee. 

"You don't seem too good. Are you sure you're on top of the situation? The police have been looking for-" the man was caught off guard when the employee reached across the truck door's window and grabbed ahold of the shotgun. 

"For the kink." The employee stated. Panicking, the other man swerved the gun forward and fired, blasting a hole in the employee's arm. This did nothing, as the employee swatted the gun aside and tossed the man to the ground. "Please do not resist, sir." He said as he grabbed the man and slammed him into his own truck. Police cars approached as sirens filled the air once again. 

"I believe that's our cue." Par commented, and the group headed out, retreating back into the woods. They made a decent pace, despite Bill's injuries, and Walker collected random items from the woods to place in his new purse. Once they made it to a safe distance, they stopped for a meeting.

"Alright. Bill, you know where the cheese is, right?" Richard asked.

"I can snag it easily-ah." Bill smacked his lips proudly. 

"Even while you're bleeding all over the place?" Richard inquired.

"I will recharge soon enough. I have the strength to get this done." Bill replied. "After this, I need to take a day long nap-ah."

"Sounds good enough to me." Par added. "Bill, we'll set a timer for you to grab the cheese so we'll all be ready." He handed Bill a random watch, which was set with a timer of 15 minutes. He had a matching one on his wrist. 

"Do you just have these random gadgets with you all the time?" Walker asked.

"Says the one who keeps an orange bag of infinite space." Par remarked.

"Very well then. We elect Bill to acquire the cheese, and the rest of us just... hang out?" Richard remarked.

"Mmmmm. Sounds kinkylicious to me. Besides, if we all go marchin' in there, the kanks are gonna know about it." Dent added.

"We should be on standby the aid Bill if things go south, though. We'll hide in the parking lot nearby." Par suggested.

"Won't there be policemen there since that's right next to the crime scene?" Richard asked.

"It's the last place they'll check." Par commented. "Now, Cher, take this." He handed her a small communications device. "This is a two way communicator."

"So it's a high-tech walky talky." Cher added.

"No. Point is, you can sneak around undetected, so let us know how Bill's doing." Par continued.

"We'll also need transportation for the Nices." Richard commented. "Our vehicles were either confiscated or destroyed by the Reverse, so you lot will need something else."

"It's fine. I'll improvise." Nnam stated. Everyone looked at him.

"How?" Richard asked.

"Impossible." Bill added.

"Improbable." Par corrected.

"You guys are so... strange." Keira sighed.

"Don't worry. I got it. I have a plan." Nnam said confidently.

"And what exactly is that?" Richard asked.

"Nothing that needs to be talked about." Nnam persisted. "It won't affect the rest of you."

"Easier done than said." Noah added.

"Your funeral." Par remarked. With that, they returned to the scene of the storm. With the distant sounds of a Boogie Baby echoing around the now organized bundle of insanity, several police officers began to smell a terrible odor. Despite this, they were "none the wiser," and remained oblivious to the group's sneaking around and hiding behind cars. They made it to a safe spot shortly thereafter and Richard dragged Par and Dent aside.

"You didn't tell Keira she has to come with us." Richard noticed.

"Doubt she'd go through with it. She'll have to be forced; someone can grab her." Par replied.

"Should be easy enough." Richard added.

"Mmmmmmmm. That baybay was inches away from buyin' some of my calcukink, beyboys. If not for those bears, she woulda been a fien customer." Dent replied. "I'm sure she'll be more than happy to hold hands with the kink."

"Very well." Par stated. They returned.

"As always, you all depend on me-ah." Bill boasted.

"I could just as easily do what he's doing and probably be faster." Cher added.

"No need, he still has seven minutes." Par replied, and Bill went to action. Covertly kneeling into a few bushes, he strolled to the front door of the cafe and entered casually, glancing at a small sign that was not there before: "Caution: Wet Floors" Bill smacked his lips at this, but he then joined the line, preparing to order more ice cream. Cher positioned herself outside a window and observed in boredom.

Suddenly, loud stomping occurred followed by incessant grumbling and chewing. The Boogie Baby had returned.

"Huergh. Hey guys." Boogie muttered.

"Oh, you made it! I'm so thrilled." Richard commented.

"Made my day." Walker remarked.

"How did you get past the police?" Par asked.

"I crawled the whole way. Eeugh. Hurts to stand up for long." Boogie sat on a bench nearby.

"Is that because of your weight or because of the injury?" Squirt asked.

"Well..." Boogie hesitated. "Both! Hueheh. So what'd I miss?"

"Nobody was killed, but several people were surprised." Noah added.

"Okay." Boogie slurped.

The group continued their banter for another few minutes before things started to move into action. Bill now had less than four minutes. Dent prepared to grab Keira. Cher monitored Bill as he devoured an ice cream cone and then walked toward the back room.

"Wait a second. Something's wrong." Cher said over the device.

"What's happening now?" Par asked, a tone of almighty annoyance in his voice.

"Cops are here. Three of 'em. They're eyeing Billy." Cher replied. "Should I interfere?"

"Not unless they attack him first." Par replied to her.

"Bill's in the back. Shit, they're following him." Cher added. "Wait a second... they're carrying air fresheners. Shit, they're on me too."

"Dammit." Par smacked away a fly. "Cher? Are you there?" Screams were heard as one policeman lost his penis and another lost his life.

"Gotta move." Cher replied before going silent. Par looked to his device, which now had 2:48 on it. He turned to the group.

"Okay. I've had enough of this. Who the fuck called the police?" Par asked. Richard grabbed his pistol and stood next to him, and Dent and Walker soon joined as well.

"Wait, whoa, what the the fuck now? I thought we were past this!" Nnam added.

"Seriously guys?" Chey sighed. "Also language."

"I think they always want to shoot us." Keira added.

"I told you!" Squirt whined.

"Hey. I'm innocent." Boogie added.

"Do I look like the kind of fella who'd have a phone? YOU DISAPPOINT THE POPE." Noah asked.

"You did spend an awful lot of time out there on your own. If anyone called the police, it's this random knight guy." Nnam added.

"Alright, I look hype. The moon is purple. So am I. This is a good place to end." Noah prepared himself.

"So you admit it was you?" Nnam asked.

"Of course not! I am not so... pitifully petty. But at this rate you sports aren't going to figure anything out. I might as well hang myself." Noah replied.

"Whoever called must have specifically told the police that Bill was vulnerable against freshening products, but this person is protecting themselves because they didn't reveal that we're over here." Par added.

"If nobody comes forward, gonna have to start firing shots! Maybe I'll be merciful if you confess." Richard added.

"It could be Boog for all we know." Walker began. "But I don't think he would know how. So it is probably Chey the seductive whore."

"That's my wife you're talking about you little bitch." Nnam moaned.

"I was either with Nnam or Dent the whole time." Chey's eyes became larger than golf balls. "I would never do something like that. You should know me well enough by now to understand that."

Meanwhile, Bill entered the back room. With just over two minutes to spare, he had to act quick when an employee came from around a corner. Before he could shout, the man was quickly grabbed and his head was forced into Bill's armpit, muting any noises he made. After a few seconds he fell unconscious and Bill stepped forward, laughing in his fish-like voice, farting, and picking his nose. He made his way to the frozen items and found the boxes of cheese. Before he could locate the right one, though, the three policemen entered the room. Sensing their presence, Bill grinned.

"Ha ha. HA ha. You are, all of you, beneath me." Bill declared.

"Are you the one known as Bill?" An officer asked.

"Born to be a king! I ask for one thing in return: a front seat to watch the world stink." He turned around dramatically and stepped toward the policemen. Unfortunately, one of them held up an air freshener and sprayed it at Bill, sending the humanoid garbage can flying back in agony.

"AAAAAARGH!" Bill smashed his back against the freezer and fell to the ground. The officers stepped forward and began man-handling him.



"Could be Keira for all we know. She probably did hold a grudge after Jim Logan." Richard pointed out.

"If I were going to act against you all, you would definitely know it." Keira defended herself.

"Why does it have to be one of us anyways? How do you know you weren't betrayed by Walker or Boogie or something?" Nnam asked.

"Bibeh please, Boogie is a fine customer of the kink awaiting his full payment of calculus. Walka is my most trusted ally and the walka of all the lands. They would never disgrace the kink." Dent replied.

"Huergh. I know who did it." Boogie slobbered.

"I somehow doubt that." Richard remarked.

"I've been tryin' to tell y'all, but you fackers just won't listen!" Boogie stood up. "Like, I'm tired of bein' treated like a child in this group. I'm important too." Boogie whined.

"Then stop acting like a child." Richard replied.

"Well go on then, what's your theory?" Par asked.

"Y'all never give me a chance to act like anything else! To you guys I'm just big funny Boogie. I mean, yeah, I am funny... huergh. But I'm more than that!"

"Nobody cares, spit it out, wanker." Par sighed.

"Well. Huergh... Squirt called the police." Boogie revealed.


Meanwhile, Bill fought off the officers who were beating up on him. Despite being freshened, but managed to procure the twig from his coat pocket and blast the officer who was on top of him, stunning the man. He then breathed directly into the man's face, incapacitating him. Bill then stunned another cop with the twig and got up, retreating near a restroom.

"Stinky water." He muttered, summoning the water from the toilet and sending it into the second officer, blasting him away. He then looked directly at the third cop. "Someone forgot to wipe-ah." With a yellow-toothed grin and a death stare, Bill threw his hand forward, and suddenly the third officer was swooshed off of his feet by a force that came from his very own anus. Bill checked his device - less than a minute to go. Unfortunately for him, this distracted his attention and allowed the first cop to recover and spray him with the cleaner again. The almighty stinker was flung back again.


"Whoa man, what?" Squirt asked. Suddenly, alarms went off and all customers began being escorted out of the cafe by the police. The area was now on lockdown, and cops closed in on the location. Cher narrowly evaded capture, but more cars were converging on the location.

"How would you know this anyways?" Richard doubted Boogie's idea.

"I heard him say it himself! Keira was there too. Like, he was wantin' to arrest us all and rat us out to the police. He's been a bad boy." Boogie was satisfied with himself.

"I did want to send them away, but obviously I didn't, otherwise I would have done it sooner!" Squirt defended himself.

"Unless you were smart and waited for the opportune moment." Par thought.

"He did have an elaborate plan to send all of you away, along with Chey and Nnam..." Keira admitted.

"Dude! What the fuck!?" Nnam asked.

"Wow. I can't believe you'd do that. What a back-stabbing... Nnam, language." Chey added.

"Now look what you’ve done. Who’s going to clean this up?" Noah commented.

"So. We've found our sausage then." Richard added.

"What a kanked up kankidiculous facky-wacky thing to do, baybay." Dent added.

"I didn't think he had it in him." Par added. "Doesn't seem smart enough to me."

"Wow. If you guys think I'd do something like that, fine. I really wish I did, actually. But you've got the wrong guy." Squirt squished, taking a few steps back.

"That's what they all say." Par muttered.

"I always had a bad vibe from you, Squirt." Walker frowned.

"He said that we were a bunch of criminals, and that Nnam and Chey were housing fugitives. Huergh." Boogie quacked.

"So you planned this all along? I bet you'd take all the money and get the fuck out." Nnam asked. Despite his derpy tone, he conveyed actual betrayal in his voice. This man was deeply pained by Squirt's actions, and his fists tightened.

"Well yeah, duh. I wouldn't be dumb enough to leave the money behind." Squirt admitted.

"I'm afraid sausagery of this caliber cannot be tolerated, you confooderate." Richard grew stern.

"Do you realize what would happen if we were caught? We'd all be eaten by bears." Walker readied his rocks.

"Hey, violence isn't the answer..." Squirt stepped back further.

"I beg to differ." Richard pointed his gun forward, and suddenly Squirt rolled away, ducking under a car and running toward the street. "Stop that man!"

"Whore!" Walker shouted as he chased after Squirt the traitor, throwing rocks in his direction. The cops trailed them as well, but Squirt led them into the woods, causing the cops to lose sight.

"Shit. Thirty seconds." Par checked his device and looked at Dent.

"Well Keira baybaaaay, do ya remember my kinkylicious offer of calcu-kink?" Dent asked.

"I'll never forget the crazy things that led us here." Keira gave him a disgusted look.

"Mmmmmmm. Well, baybay, offah's still up... and I'll give you the bonus package. All you can kink buffet of calculus!" Dent approached her, reaching his hand out to touch her, but she grabbed his hand and swatted it away.

"Get off me, freak." Keira rejected the Kinkmeister. "I'll never forget what you did to Jim - I get that it was a weird situation, but there's no way I'm joining you for... whatever that is."

"Now come on baybay, don't be l-" Dent was cut off.

"No." Keira said sternly.

"Fine. Keira, I'm sorry, but I need to secure your future." Richard, gun in hand, leaned toward her and began to touch her shoulder, but Keira swiftly kicked him in the crotch, ripped off a large strand of her own hair and wrapped it around Richard's hand, tying it to his gun and preventing him from shooting. "Bloody sausagewoman!" She then kneed him in the face.

Meanwhile, Bill was subdued by the officer with the air freshener.

"Time to take you in, Mr. Bill, otherwise known as Bill. There's a sheriff from Colorado who really wants to have a chat with ya. He's offered quite a sum to have you brought in, and thanks to that handy anonymous tip, we're the first ones to get ya." The officer stated. He tried to cuff Bill, but this did nothing, as the almighty stinker had recovered. He swatted the air freshener and the cuffs away violently, dodging an attempting blow and then violently jamming two of his fingers into the man's nose.

"Heh-ah-heh-ah." Bill's Grievous voice returned followed by a cough. "Your boogers will make a fine addition to my collection." He dug his fingers in deeper, allowing his stench to penetrate the man's nostrils fully as his eyes began to bleed. "Too bad you won't be around to see it." Bill retracted his fingers and then pitted the man harshly, carelessly tossing his lifeless body to the ground afterwards. He looked to the device and noticed he was out of time. "Shit!" Bill squawked in his Bane voice as he ran to the cheese.

Meanwhile, Keira resisted the group. Richard and Dent found themselves unable to take control of the situation.

"Oh. I suppose that's the cue." Noah then placed his palm on Boogie's shoulder. In this moment, Par went into deep thought.

"There are two kinds of instincts." Par thought to himself. "The sort of instinct that makes you strong, or useless emotions, the sort of instinct that's only a reaction. I have no patience for useless things. Moments like these require someone who will act. Someone willing to do the unpleasant thing. The necessary thing. Fine. I'll do it myself." With that, Par stepped forward, shoving Dent out of his way. He and Keira made eye contact, but he quickly threw his hand around her neck and placed his lips on hers. This time Keira didn't resist, but rather froze in place. It was as if all time slowed down once this happened, as even Noah appeared to be shocked, despite not moving at all. Richard grabbed a small camera and documented the scene, and Boogie started to sweat. Par managed to rotate his wrist to check the device during the long kiss, only to realize that the time was up. Despite this, nothing happened, so he kept the kiss going as long as he could. Keira didn't seem to mind this, as she soon embraced Par with her arms as well. This created an awkward moment, which was not made any better by the distant screams of Squirt as he was chased away by a blue-haired man.

"Ooh. Uh." Nnam, as if waiting for a cue, suddenly grabbed Chey and Richard. Chey didn't mind, and Richard was in too much pain to resist. This added awkwardness to the moment, as they all just stood there waiting.

"My skeleton hurts." Noah added.

Meanwhile, Bill threw open the freezer door and grabbed a large box of cheese. It was the only one of its kind.

"FINALLY! I HAVE RETRIEVED WHAT IS MINE! WHAT IS OURS! FOR THE RIGHTFUL RULER OF ASSGUARD!" Bill held the cheese up above him with both hands in triumph. "NO FRESHNESS CAN CONTAIN ME! I AM STINK! I AM-" Bill was cut off as he suddenly fell unconscious, dropping the cheese onto his head as he was teleported away with it. The rest of the group was transported as well, including Nnam and Chey, who were in contact with Richard. Keira was still embracing with Par, and thus she was transported as well, along with Noah, who was in contact with Boog. Cher was beamed away from her confrontation with the police and Walker was prevented from viciously beating Squirt with a rock. Speaking of Squirt, he then ran out of the woods in a panic.

"What!? Where did everyone go? SOMEONE HELP ME, I'VE GONE OFF THE DEEP END!" With that, Squirt was apprehended by the police.

Chapter 42: Gathering Cheese Edit

Earlier, in the Grand Cheese Palace...

The Cheesemonger met with Lord Havarti and Lord Crow in the Chamber of Cheeseage. The area was a large, open space illuminated by the blue-orange glow of a massive crystal-like structure, although it moved about as if it were underwater. This centerpiece was made up of various bubble-like orbs attached to the moving crystals, and the device flowed in a circle continuously. Additionally, two large cone-like devices sat atop the structure and led into the ceiling, connecting all the way at the top of the Palace with the two pillars which held the massive orb of Cheese. Despite the synergy of the formation, however, several of its pieces were... stuttering. Vibrations occurred randomly, and one part of the machine had begun to turn a dark color.

"Havarti, give me an update." The Monger stated, gazing upon the centerpiece.

"The mystics have begun to feel an increased intensity in anomalies, my Monger." Havarti replied. "Things are simply out of place. Something is not right."

"King Cheesius expressed concerns when he ordered the creation of the Channel of Cheeseage. Cheesilius even tried to replace it, but the proper sorcery could not be conjured. It seems they foresaw the risks of such a device." Lord Crow added.

"Unfortunately, there were no other options, and it seems I have lost any chance to change the system." The Monger replied. "The Council would certainly have my Ring if I tried to alter the machine that controls our very existence."

"If the consumption of the Holy Cheese is not restored, we could be looking at potential losses to major Cheeselines, and extreme lessening of Cheesian magic." Havarti explained. "However, the symptoms I'm seeing suggest more than a failed process of consumption. The Holy Cheese was created by the machine and is bound to it, but the machine is bound to the very source of Cheesian sorcery. It seems as if, somewhere, our power is being abused. Something is disrupting the flow of Cheese."

"This device has also been known to prepare itself for losses to the Cheeselines in the past. Some deaths have been predicted or even averted due to its power." Lord Crow replied. "But a schism of that size... that would indicate a major purge of dairy."

"My ancestors used the Channel of Cheeseage to prevent such events from happening... can it be done now?" The Monger asked.

"It depends on the situation." Havarti explained. "I have not seen anything quite like this anomaly in my lifetime, but I have read the scrolls of the earliest Cheesians who dealt with these affairs. Nothing can be done until we understand the cause of these effects."

"Right now we know nothing of whatever the device is predicting. We must double our spiritual defenses. Any whispers of the Blue must be rooted out. Ruffalo must be investigated." Crow stated.

"I would think that whoever misplaced the Holy Cheese is the same person who is abusing Cheesian magic. If we find that Cheesian, we could solve some of our problems." Havarti spoke.

"Lord Mozzarella is prone to rebelling in the Cheese Council. If I had to suspect a cheese-grater, it would be him and his Italian allies." The Monger responded. "Of course, such words could not be spoken at the council table. I doubt Mozzarella could manage a scheme without being caught, but investigate him anyways. Still, this appears to be the work of someone behind the scenes."

"My crows have told me nothing so far." Crow replied.

"One would assume that the Holy Cheese investigation will give us some answers, but we cannot be sure." Havarti explained. "If we truly have a cheese-grater among us, dairy will suffer. The proper consumption of each cheese type is required to replenish the energy of the device, and if we lose a Cheese Lord we might have to lose that Cheeseline entirely."

"With less Cheesian sorcery, we will be vulnerable to attacks from other food kingdoms, not to mention the enemies. With the threats looming, I have taken to training my next Cheesian apprentice." Crow added.

"Are you sure that's wise? You know what happened with the last one-ah." The Monger drew an eyebrow.

"We agreed not to speak of that." Crow tapped his beak. "Anyhow, this one will prove most useful, I'm sure. I have not seen a Cheesian like her for centuries."

"Her? You brought a female into the upper sections?" Havarti questioned.

"I'm sure Lord Crow doesn't wish to reproduce with a Cheesian." The Monger scoffed.

"I have no need to reproduce. My kind are extinct. Any attempt at mating would result in a demon." Crow explained. "Besides, I am not plagued with the same desires as humans."

"Still, that's an odd choice. You've never taken a female apprentice before... what cheese is she?" the Monger asked.

"Gender is irrelevant; it was such in the earliest days of Cheesia, and it is such now." Crow explained. "Besides, I think she'd sooner decapitate any potential suitors than mate with them. She understands the laws, although she doesn't quite agree with them. Nevertheless, her skills in combat are most exceptional, but what makes her useful is her mind. She sees things on a level that most beings cannot comprehend. It almost reminds me of a certain race from another realm." Crow grew silent as he said this. Without any warnin