Mr. Judge
As always, it's been a lovely day today. Hell, I'd love to make it rain some days, just to mix it up somewhat! My good sorcerer self and my companion, Dr. Jacque, are off to save the world. Yes, again. Some evil guy's captured some far-off king's daughter, and is threatening to blow up the whole world if anyone tries to rescue her. Sheesh! My, it gets oh-so-very droll these days rescuing so many bloody damsels, especially now they won't put out due to that damn poison. Remind me to declare a war on rats at some point. It'll probably be the most important war at the time, what with all those other important nations being murdered to death and whatnot.
After a few minutes of careful idling around our town, which incidentally we never bothered to learn the name of, we encounter this old guy, reminiscent of that new Mr. Judge fellow I know we won't be seeing, walking across the street. I think nothing of it, but apparently Jacque does, going over to him and drawing his sword. Don't quite know how he carries it, it's bigger than he is, the midget! Anyways, as I helplessly watch, Jacque dispatches the old man with one swing, and naturally, we both take off. I try to reassure him that there'll be no consequences to his rash actions...
GUILTY!
Rats!
Well, that sure was a lucky escape. Mr. Judge is such a senile old bastard, after everyone evacuated the court he forgot about the whole trial! Now Jacque and I can continue on our quest. So...yeah. Umm. Err...Narrator? What was the quest again? <whispers> Ah yes, that was it. For talons and tardiness, behold!
Well, Jacque and I have almost reached the dark woods of indiscriminate description that I shall not attempt to describe for fear of over description, when we notice a sign saying “No Tree Chopping” on the entrance to these undescribed woods (have I mentioned that I'm not describing them?). We can't chop down those trees? Damn environmentalists, taking all the fun out of life. Next thing you know, I won't be able to use whipped cream on my wife, uhh, my strawberries, because of danger to those bloody cows. Meh! Let's chop them down anyway, I'm sure there'll be no consequences to our rash actions...
GUILTY?
Rats!
Uhh... we're not lumberjacks.
Fifty hours later, Jacque and I had crossed the forest and had reached a pet sanctuary. There were teary-eyed dogs, cats which claws the size of Mozambique, and the odd dodo fossil, but we decided to purchase a rat. Why? Because we want to be able to poison the hell out of enemies. Nothing quite like seeing a great big troll suffer vehemently at the hands of little Petey here. In fact, we're just about to try that right now!
GUILTY‽
Rats!
But it was the rat, I swear, I...
Well, after getting away from that randy judge (unspeakable acts occurred in that estate car) Jacque and I went to that big doom fortress of that evil guy. Very easy to defeat, too. Naturally, the gal, like in those action movies, just ran off screaming. And knowing my luck, those sexual harassment suits will be dropping through my letterbox all too soon...bad memories. I guess there's no reward for being hero of the universe for the eleventy billionth time. Well, off to write my memoirs. Twenty-eight's rather late to write those these days, but there's been too much heroism lately to cash in. But now, obesity and unemployment here I come!