Rumbl-o-Rama

Rumbl-o-Rama, Initial (I)

A collaborative work on behalf of MadGoblin, MintMan, Vinny D, Writer77, and folks of RE.

Hear ye, hear ye! The Grand Quest for the Legendary Cheese is Upon Thou All! Whom shall maketh the trek? Art thee brave enough? ... th? If it be so, seeketh the Dire Mire, lair of the Hairy Dairy Fairy, just beyond the Mount of Olive Gardens. But many other perils do lay 'twixt these threats. First of trials shall be the Fields of No Return, for, once there, you shalt not redeem thou purchased goods at the shoppe for returned coin!!!

"Dairy Product of Lore?" exclaimed the mean, green fiend. "'Tis quite the interest... I accepteth this queer adventure, mysterious booming voice! Hopefully, no one else shall attempteth to hinder me in this quest..."

Pfft, like that'll happen!

Enter a blue clad vagrant. His gaze shifts about the crowded tavern. He pushes his way past the filthy patrons to a slightly more deformed green figure perched on a stool, nursing away on a giant tankard. Standing for quite some time sending the little monster a poisonous stare but not detracting his attention from the fermented fount, the human... -ish finds a better way to detract his attention with a swift strike to his head.

"What do you think you're doing? Do you not have anything more important to be doing?" accused the blue one.

"... it's beer," replied the goblin. He searched hard for a retort, but eventually gave up this quest already to grow wealthy in a mug of his own.

"Holy carp! These things are huge."

"Tell me about it. Just look how many adventurers stopped in and haven't finished their drinks. Well, most of them are just passing out and drowning in their own mugs. Why do you think this thing is the Bar of No Return?"

"What? I thought it was the Fields of No Return?"

"Yeah, in which the Bar of No Return is located."

"Isn't the Bar of No Return located in the Pennsylvania... of No Return?"

"No, that's the Hershey Bar of No Return."

"Ah, yes..."

Just then they notice a man in green armor in the corner.

"Hmmm, don't you think we would have noticed some guy with green armor sitting in the corner?" The fiendish one says.

"Meh, drink your beer, it's a plot device idiot." Man-o-mint responded. He then approached them, and said:

"I hear you are looking for some giant candy bar or something."

"Close enough, you can help in the search for dairy of lore. But you don’t get any!" Gobbo exclaimed.

"Really? 'Cause I can make good stuff with cheese...."

"... Okay, but end this post before it stops being funny."

Aha, it is too late for that!

"I do not trust men of invisible boomingness!" Vincent D, the returned adventurer of funk and knight-in-training yelled in confusion. Vinny strikes the inexplicable booming voice with reckless abandon!

"Oh, well," declared the Ghobling. "'Tis time for me to secretly elude these hapless fools and obtain that delicious dairy product! That'll learn those jerks at the market for raising the price! I mean, five shillings? Not out off my wallet! ... pouch," he correct himself upon realizing the time frame.

"What do you mean 'secretly,' you ass?" The blue one slammed his tankard. "You just outwardly and loudly yelled all of that out! ... from atop the bar! ... directing your voice at us!"

"And let's not forget your visual aids," the Not-Knight of Funk added, pointing to the black board with stick figures of the two weeping while one with a pointy nose held a shapeless, radiant blob above his head, presumably the cheese, with women throwing themselves at him.

"Yeah, I guess 'twas a little much," Gobbo admitted, "and I don't know what I was thinking with these!" His words were in reference to pink and orange sock puppets of unclear origin.

"But those didn't have anything to do with your presentation there, green boy. You just periodically had them make out," the D corrected, "with you!"

"That's not true!" the fiend objected, pulling the socks from his face. The other two merely delivered a stare, along with the rest of the bar's occupants, including those drowned in draught (who returned from the dead for that sole purpose). Shaking off the weight of the eyes upon him, he menacingly thrust forward a finger. "Oh, yeah? Well-" and thusly kicked over a mug as distraction to his swift and bizarre exit, emitting a strange "whooping" noise repetitively.

And so the hideous fiend made his way from the Bar of No Return to the next task on the way to the milky prize, the Pits of Eternal Agony. However, not being that much of a moron, the freak took a not well known short cut through the-

"Hey! Shut it up, you booming voice!" Gobbo ordered. "You're gonna let everyone know how to follow me!"

No, you shut up! I'm the voice, here. Don't you think I know what I'm doing?

"Well, n-"

Exactly!

As though enough characters were not already introduced, a man in a dusty old robe enters. Having almost been run over by a drunken goblin of some sort, he quickly stumbles into a chair.

"Hmm..." says the man in the cloak. "I need to find some human shields, so for I can be casting the magic-ness. When I learn the magic-ness, that is." The man looks slowly around the room, in a manner that is more dramatic than necessary. "Perhaps I should be finding someone that is wearing armor, as that person would be making a good shield. Or perhaps I should stop speaking to myself in such an annoying manner...-ness."

"And maybe you should just shaddup!" snapped the blue one.

"Oh... I’m sorry," apologized the not-so-magic-user.

"Not you," equally repulsed the vagrant spoke. "I was speaking to... that peanut!" he clarified, dramatically pointing to the honey-roasted and lightly salted fiend on the floor. "You think you're the boss of me. Well, no one is the boss of me, save that one guy who is the boss of me... and probably all of his bosses.... and those dorky teens down at the fast food place... and woodchucks, with their hypnotic eyes, but I shall show them yet." His eyes narrowed as his rambling went on, now apparently speaking to no one at all -- exactly who was listening to him in the first place.

"Hmmm, I do not think I want a human shield that enemies will go out of their way to kill," the newcomer considered, "or that I would slay myself... slowly and painfully... with a spoon. Maybe there is someone better here. After all, I am in a bar, and you don't gets no betters than barfolk!" One man passed from his stool while another vomited on the floor holding the blue clad vagrant's peanut.

"Master, what have they done to you!" he wept, falling to his knees. "I take back all of those things I said! It was okay that you drove my car off a cliff, and I never thought you were that fat! Just don't die! The wombats cannot win like this!"

"I thought it was the woodchucks?" the greenish armored un-knight asked, for some strange reason actually paying attention.

"That is what they want you to think," he replied in ominous tone.

".... the wombats or the woodchucks?"

"Neither! It is the peanuts, those vile fiends!" screamed he, spinning up from the ground. In a flash, he produced Gungnir, the Mighty Spear, from his coat pocket. "You'll never take me back to the hatchery! Two fried Waldos never split lampshades over the valley for five hours!"

"Hey," introduced the not-so-knight, "I am not trying to kill inanimate objects right now."

"Sold!" the apprentice agreed. "Fortunate for you, my requirements for a human shi... er, body guard just became 'not that guy'." In similar fashion, both bolted from the bar leaving the madman raving among the drunken denizens and beer-bloated corpses.

"So, the peanut-woodchuck-wombat-Where's Waldo-scotch-tape-worm agents think they can escape me, do they?" ranted he. "... wait, they just did," he realized and quickly followed suit. Just then, a huge, shambling mass of lard uncharacteristically dashed in front of the door, blocking all hope of escape.

"Wate er minit, youse," spake the barkeep. "Al dem frends uv yers ar onn yer tabb, sah ya gotta payup b'fer ya goe."

"But kind barkeep, how can I leave when I am still sitting over there!" he dramatically pointed out once again, this time to a mop leaned against a stool, topped with a blue piece of construction paper most likely intended to have been cut into the shape of his hat, but more than obviously finished after halfway through as a horsy.

"Thou art a damned and accursed villain! But thou shan't ever best I! Thou shalt relinquish this foul hold or suffer gravely by the biting edge of my steel!" Tossing aside tattered rags, he fabricated a jagged claymore from a rusted scabbard.

"Sir, for the last time," the pimpled punk squeaked, "I can't refund your money. It's against our policy."

"And just why must that be?" The goblin placed the crooked blade against the clerk's twiggy neck.

"Well, for starters, nothing can be returned in the Fields of No Return," he explained in high pitch, "but, even if, no one would accept this back."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Well, it's a waffle," he said, "or it use to be. We can't take it back after you ate it." He added, "and digested it."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'll be speaking to your manager, puke-face!"

"That was hurtful," the adolescent sniffed, "but shouldn't you be going?" The fiend stared at him blankly. "You know, you were on some sort of quest and trying to get ahead of a group of other people after the same prize, but then you doubled back to the Fields of No Return to get some breakfast. Sounded to me like you were in an awful hurry to be stupid enough to go back just to grab a bite to eat, though."

"What the-" the green-skin stuttered. "How do you know all this?"

"You sorta babbled it out loud when you got drunk on maple syrup," he told, "which I still don't understand fully myself."

"Oh... well, then you should understand while its imperative that I get this transaction complete as swiftly as possible!"

"Sir, the last thing I want to do is take your sack of cra-"

"I'll take that," a deep, voice rang out as a gelatinous man-thing grabbed the sack and darted off back to the next near-by restaurant, Burger Berg.

"Wow," the clerk gasped. "For being so fat, that Bubba sure can run when he wants to." He turned back to his customer. "Are you still here?" The pointy one nodded. "You really should be going if you want to keep your lead, you know."

"Oh, what? Is the lot of them standing right behind me in line this very moment?" The dorky boy leaned to his side with an odd glare to see around Gobbo, who followed his gaze.

"Can I get blueberries on mine, Mr. Un-mage?" the green armored one begged.

"Never!" the wizardly one denied. "That would cost extra!" The blue vagrant popped out mysteriously from behind him yelling at just the cap of a syrup dispensing vessel, accusing it of stealing his gall bladder.

"Gar!" cried the Un-mage in utter disgust. "Stop calling me an un-mage! My Dastardly Wizard kit turned out to be faulty, and I can't return it for a new one until we escape this place!" In pouting rage, he blasted Vincent with a burst of magical energies.

The wizard became suddenly aware of the idiocy that was going on around him. The goblin was causing quite a bit of ruckus with the workers at the restaurant, and had begun screaming "My favorite color is pink!" at an unhealthy rate. Suddenly, thirty ninjas dropped from the ceiling, and D realized the true meaning of Christmas... assuming he's not Jewish.

"Damn you, semi-mage, with your semi-magical technique! Oh well, isn't it about time we get on our way with this dairy quest and what-not," the one-who-is-impatient-about-being-a-not-knight decided. To officially begin his quest, Vincent pulled a radiant mace from his side, brandishing it skyward. "There, now we have the Justice Morningstar at my disposal!"

"What does it do, jackass? I mean you can't just give it a cool name and expec-" but the mage-ish one was interrupted by mace falling on headage.

"Heh, heh, heh, can't just give it a cool name and expect whatnot. Anybody else got some questions??!!" the funk adventurer asked as he brandished the pointy object around with a mix of paranoia and anger out of lack of blueberries. "Nobody best be messin’ wit’ me berries." Sneaking over to the blueberry jar, they then finally leave.

"So... um.... how are the kids?" Ninja #1 asked his successor.

"Don't have them," the second replied.

"Oh... sorry. I thought you were Ninja #3," apologized he. "We really should wear name tags or badges or something."

"Ninja badges?" asked the fourth.

"Those do not sound to stealthy," whined number fifteen, who always was complaining; fortunately for him, the others could never tell.

"Yeah, they would need to be made from a very stealthy material that is, like, invisible or something," twenty-five, the smart one, said.

"Wait, didn't we have this conversation before," brought up eleven, "and aren't we wearing them right now?"

"I forgot mine at home," admitted nine, "my ninja home."

"I dropped mine in the toilet," told twenty-one, "my ninja toilet. I got it back, but... it gave off very hiding-unfriendly smell-lines... and smell."

"Weren't we, like, fighting people or something?" asked seventeen. They all looked about at each other, not knowing whom to place the blame on.

"Number Thirteen did it." Suddenly, the mass of ninjas began hacking away at one another, drawing sword and blood at and from every other there being entirely unable to discern which one was in fact Ninja #13 save for Thirteen himself, who instead just bore the wrath of the others.

Meanwhile... I interrupt this story just so that I can get more time in. Oh, just because I am an omnipresent voice means that I cannot be in every post! Boo-hoo-hoo! I have feelings too! And I would run away and cry if I had a body!

"We really gotta kill that voice," muttered the armored... guy.

"Worry about that after we get to the Mount of Olive Gardens," stayed the mage of sorts, studying an unfolded map borrowed from the goblin's thought carefully watched belongings. "According to this, there are two possible routes. We could take that short path to the Mount," he said, motioning an arm to the gardens already in clear view, "or we could go through the Man-Eating Cyclops Lair in the Pit of Thorns and Skin Irritation."

"Aw, are those our only choices?" complained the green non-goblin. "Are you sure you are reading that present-fangled device correctly? What is that little line?"

"That... is the short path."

"What about all those pointy things?"

"Those would be the Pit of Thorns."

"And that big, one-eyed guy?"

"You mean... the Cyclops? That would represent," he said, "the Cyclops."

"Yes, I seem to recall something about him being a Man-Eater."

"I did say that only ten lines- I mean, seconds ago."

"Well, he seems like a friendly bloke," decided the quasi-knight. "Let's go that-a-way."

"Are you mad? He eats Man... Men!" shouted the magic user.

"Yeah, but I am sure only other Mans. We should be fine."

"Well, according to this," the apprentice said, consulting his conveniently subscribed-to issue of Bridge & Lair Monthly, "the Cyclops demands a sacrifice of one Man for every party passing through."

"Great!" said D, while starting off down the dark, frightening trail. "I like my odds. Last time I checked, I was only one person." Grabbing him to a halt, the mage reiterated.

"Are you mad? ... der?" again he questioned. "There are only two of us! The only way you could have a worse chance of getting out alive is by traveling alone or smothering yourself in bacon grease, which I should remind that you were doing only moments ago."

"Well, can't we just find someone to throw at the Cyclops to eat?" the really non-magician asked.

"Yeah, preferably somebody stupid and unsuspecting," the blue clad vagrant added, appearing suddenly from no where. Both looked him over and smiled. "What are you smiling for? Are we going to have a party? I like parties!" Their grins turned dark and the situation became obvious for even he. "Uh-oh, I really hope that Cyclops chews well, 'cause I don't wanna break on through to the other side." He proceeded to feignly guarded himself in hopeful desperation.

Just then, something dropped in, screaming, from above, breaking its fall on the quasi-mage.

"Ouch. I guess that's why they told me that riding dragons was bad, especially when they roll over... good thing I tasted so foul he regurgitated me..." Looking around, the oddly clad man stands up, brushing off his leather armor and... fur? Grinning and helping up the person he nearly squashed, the odd-looking person begins to clean the dirt from his cat-like ears as he apologizes. "Sorry about that, friend, didn't mean to cause a ruckus."

"Well, it's a bit late for that!" replied the Aspiring Mage. Unaware of the non-knight behind him, the cat-man is thwacked upside the head and crumples down into a heap.

"Let's use this guy for our sacrifice! We don't know him at all, and maybe his fur will cause him to stick in the Cyclops throat and choke him! Then we'd get the Cyclops' treasure to add to whatever we find at the end of the quest," quoth the wannabe-knight.

"Well, that sounds far better than using me," the vagrant said, aiding the others in tying up the sacrifice. "But now we have to lug him all the way there."

Maniacal laughter filled the air as the twisted freak stepped past the hustling lot of men.

"Thou art witless fools," he mocked, "that Cyclops be a man-eating brute! Man-eating!" The trio of humans' eyes glossed over. "What type of man dost he looketh like? Or dost I, for that matter. Didst thou not heed his words on dragon perils? We non-humans bear a bitter, wretched taste that the flesh of man is lacking of. Humanity taste supple and sweet, like candy picked off the vine!"

"Vine? Candy doesn't grow on vines," the blue one protested. "It's mined!"

"Not the point," the goblin silenced quickly to bring a quick end to either his own or the blue guy's idiocy, no one could tell, not even the speaker. "All that does matter is me and this fuzzy dude have an easy ticket through! Let's roll, hairy! Gobbo Ray!" Focusing a stream of fiendish energies, the goblin unleashed it upon Cheetarius to free him from the bondage. The felinoid sprang from his captures, a bit more singed than previously. "Whoops, I really have to work on that," he confessed. "None the matter, we're off! ... for some reason!" Grabbing the furry arrival by the arm, he dashed off with the cat man groaning in train.

"Wait, I'm confused," the magic trainee questioned. "Wasn't he the one with the map of the short cut around the Cyclops in the first place?"

"Probably!" yelled the goblin in his ear, popping up from seemingly no where.

"Didn't you just run away into the distance?" a confused everyone asked.

"Yes!" he agreed before taking bounding strides off yet again.

The vagrant, the "knight," and the mage were now planning on a way to get past the Cyclops, with both of their sacrifices having run away.

"I think we should offer it its favorite food: a giant Ruby," said the green humanoid.

"..." The Mage stopped for a few seconds. "The ruby can only be found in a mine on the Mount Olive, where we're going to in the first place. We would have to find another way to get across first, and then we'd have to come back and give it to him. And plus, this isn't Final Fantasy, it doesn't always work like that." The Green One pulled out the mace.

"Uh," started the Mage. "Maybe we could take a vote."

Two Hours Later...

"For the last time," roared the Cyclops, "you're not allowed to steal money from the bank!

"Bank?" said the Minty Man. "I don't recall stealing money from a bank, unless you're referring to this plastic tray with paper money in it." The Cyclops looked at the other two players.

"I thought you said he knew how to play Monopoly?"

"No, we didn't," started the Mage.

"We told you he was an idiot," finished the "Knight."

"You're playing monopoly?!" cried the goblin, who had gotten lonely and came back. "I thought you were playing battleship?"

"We were," said the Cyclops, "but the blinking lights kept scaring the cat-thing."

Suddenly, all of the idiots realized they were on a quest, and began to move on.

"Hey, you can't make us move, you dumb-face!" yelled the Vagrant.

Shut up, or I shall strike you down with lightning... and brimstone.

Once realizing that they were on a quest, and not a game of monopoly, or battleship, the ogre roared in rage.

"Wait..." said the half-mage, "wasn't he a Cyclops??!!"

"Why!!!!" the ogre cried, "why do people assume! I am an ogre, and that goblin thing poked my eye a few years ago!"

"Oh yeah," Gobbo said, "hehe, forgot about that."

"Well, maybe we should deal with his enragement," the pseudo-knight said. "How about we... um, plant this ruby I found..." With childlike hope, he suspected it would flourish into a ruby tree. "There, that should satisfy him, and get us out of this damn skin irritation zone..." the funkish one declared.

"Chafing is fun!" The goblin exclaimed. The half mage blinked twice.

"Wasn't there just a drunken Australian here a while ago?"

"Nay," sayeth the goblin. "That was me. I snuck some more 'Maple Syrup' over here, and in my drunkenness formed an alter-ego."

"Speaking of drunkenness, what happened to the crayon- I mean monopoly set?" asked Mint, in utter questioning-ness.

Hey, uh, guys? The Ogre is going to kill you all if you don't do something. All of a sudden, over the horizon, a ninja appeared.

"Hello, friends," said the Ninja. "I have slayeth all of my foes, and I am here to aid you in whatever way that I can."

"Hey! It's the guy from the waffle place!" said the cat, who had not said anything for an unusually long time.

"Er," started the mage. "You weren't there. How did you know that?"

"I'm a cat. I have nine lives."

"..." The mage stared off into the distance, as if trying to comprehend the statement that he had thought he had heard. The ogre, now overly bored, picked up the ninja and chewed him into tiny pieces. Then he walked away.

"Well, we are finally out of there," he said to his now faithful companion. "It took quite a bit of time -- and a little blood -- but we made it out okay. I have got to say, although small in amount, we sure have accomplished a lot in our time together. No, let me be serious for a moment. Together, nothing can stop us!" The arcane one wandered up to the vagrant.

"Who are you talking to?" asked he in utter confusion. The blue one turned to reveal the stuffed lemming nestled in his arms.

"Watch out, Leonard!" screamed he. "They are after your white, fluffy brains!" In defense of his plush pal, he wildly struck the mage. Running madly through the pit, the strange man found refuge for himself and his friend in a cave -- a large, dark, moist, squishy, tooth-lined cave. "Heh, they must have been pretty stupid to think that I would let harm find you so easily..."

Back deep within the Pit of Thorns, the goblin and his new furry ally were still lost, never supposed to have been in this strange location in the first place.

"Are you sure you know where we are going?" complained the cat. "I think we have passed that tree before, like a hundred times."

"For the last time," the frustrated green one stated between grinding teeth, "we are in a forest, so we are going to pass lots of trees."

"I'm hungry," he replied, never seeming to lose pace with something new to complain about.

"We can eat once we reach the Mount of Olive Gardens."

"Do they have food there?" Gobbo almost instantly replied "Yes," but then thought for a moment.

"Matter of fact, let's break now." Gobbo took out a delicious human child that he had been saving for quite some time now. As everyone in REF knows, Goblins love to eat babies' cooking. They are able to made scrambled eggs and toast like nobody's business. What, were you expecting something else?

"Hey, where's mine?" again whined the Cheet.

"Oh, right, uh, what about this thing?" the green-skin said, pulling a grotesque, whitish orb from his belongings.

"Bleck!" the cat spat, on the verge of retching. "How long have you had that thing? It looks disgusting, and it looks like it is watching me... with its pupil."

"That's just your imagination." Suddenly, a great tremble shook through the forest: ripping the land, felling the thorned trees, and raining fire from above.

"Did you hear that?!"

"That's just your imagination," repeated Gobbo. Then, Gobbo with his cat-like senses, and Cheet, with his cat senses, listened closely to what they heard in the distance. A final explosion tore through the land, and not soon after, the blue-clad vagrant plummeted from the sky, covered in what seemed to be dish detergent and marshmallow circus peanuts.

"Okay... I got out of there," the newcomer said with unsteady breath and a gaze scanning side to side. "Let us vow, Leonard, never to speak of it again, as though we even wanted to remember what happened. The important thing is, nobody was hurt." Looking down just after those words passed his lips, he witnessed the mangled shamble that was the fall-breaking felinoid. "Nobody was hurt...." Stepping off from his unintended victim, he told the group "I was never here, okay? Especially if the pine cones ask." With that, he disappeared into the shrubbery, much to the contentment of the sane.

"Man, that guy sure does have some problem," the Gobbo pointed out uselessly. Looking around, he added, "Hey, where'd my baby go?"

A full cheeked Cheetarius responded, "Ah dun nuh," while the goblin's gaze upon him narrowed. "What?" he said, innocently.

"Okay, so I snagged some of your baby toast, but I was starving."

"Hm, my seventh sense of instant-toast-breath-detection indicates that you aren't lying."

"Seventh? What's your sixth?" asked the cat-thing.

"Blickity-blork." The inquirer stared blankly, as was all too common on this quest. "Yeah, I don't even know what it exactly is. Back to the problem at hand, turning about for a dramatic close-up, the fiend furrowed his brow, asking, "So where is my baby at? ..."

Meanwhile, the Man-o-Mint paced along aimlessly, chewing upon what remained of a delectably tender meal, and found the somewhat wizard and somewhat knight caught upside-down in a tangle of brambles from the Pit of Thorns and Skin Irritation.

"Quickly, you blue fool!" ordered the magically inclined one, "help us!"

Said the blue, "What? You want me to cut you down?"

"No!" the combat inclined one corrected with annoyance. "We need skin moisturizer! Stat! Oh, I'm gonna be all flakey."

And so the three bargined for the cost of assistance. In exchange for the services needed, the trapped would have to dance around in tutus while the ordeal was videotaped and posted on the internet for all to laugh at.

"Hey," protested the hanging mage, "we never agreed to that! And never would!"

"And what's this 'internet' thing?" the D tagged on.

Just do it, you ants. It's funny stuff! Don't you want the Minty to- Hey, what in the- ???

"Oh, they were supposed to wear the pink tutu and dance," Mint Man came into realization. "Whoopsie, I was confused."

You stupid pawns! I'll teach you to disobey the mighty voice! Suddenly, the three wandering fools are teleported in a blink. *blink* But to where!?!? Meanwhile, Gobbo and his companion ascend from a pit in total exhaustion.

"Man, it sure it good to get out of there," the Ghobling wheezed, catching his breath. "I mean, between the Pit of Eternal Agony, the Pit of Thorns and Skin Irritation, the Pit of No Returnips, and the Pit of Death and Candy, I think I just about had it pits. Let's never go into the Pit of Pits again, Cheetarius." He took a good look at his traveling buddy. "Hey, you're not the Cheet!"

"Holy crap!" exclaimed a short, masked man in boxing gloves who popped out of nowhere.

"What th-" the green skin stuttered. "Who the hell are you? Or you? ... Why don't I know anyone?"

"Well, I'ma the guardian of the Gate of the Exit of the Pit of Pits of Exits," the weirdo introduced, "and that thing with you is a goat."

"So it is," he agreed, tearing off a leg to munch on. Amidst the yelling, he ordered, "Oh, shut up. You'll be fine, you stupid goat-" He swallowed his current bite. "Gate Guardian. Blegh," he reiterated. "Man, your flesh sure is tough." Standing amongst a wailing freak of nature and a now startled goat that now leapt about in fright, he pondered what ever became of the cat man...

"Oh, it could be my undoing," he told himself, "but it could also be the greatest thing I have ever known. How will I ever be able to choose? Curse this abysmal domain! I'm just gonna go for it!" Stretching out his hand with tightly closed eyes, it grabbed the object of choice. Motionless, he slowly released his strain and looked down at his furry palm. "Success! I have chosen correctly," Cheetarius celebrated. "The Pit of Death and Candy couldn't best me! I knew I'd be able to tell the difference between the two!" His words referenced the jagged walls of the pit lined with dripping, biting, venomous skulls or sparkling candy ore. With a bright flash, however, a shadow appeared overhead. Peering up, he saw the three other travelers he thought he had escaped...

"Oh no!" the goblin squealed.

"Wait, are you not here?" the felinoid asked. "Again?"

"Correct!" he answered and was, as said, not there anymore.

"... Gee, those guys sure are falling slowly," the cat man noted. "Ah, there they go!"

CRASH

The group of three slowly stood to their feet. Beaten, bruised, cut, and slightly decapitated, the cat quickly realized they probably weren't much of a threat. With newfound energy, the vagrant cried. "Candy!"

In an action powered entirely by persistence and stupidity, the blue one chomped down on a spike covered in venom.

The mage looked at the cat-creature, who he recognized. "Every time I see you," he said, "Someone is falling." The mage fell over after speaking.

"Eh, you wimp!" said the green one. "It was just a small drop, nothing to get excited about." The knight reached over and pulled out a candy cane from the wall.

"Be Careful!" yelled the vagrant. "I have reason to believe that cactus is poisonous! I also have reason to believe that an army of physics-defying giant ants is on their way to the Valley of Smiling Rodents!"

The Mage had a job to do, but his physical ailments were restricting him. "You..." started the mage, before he again fell over, "are..." He struggled to finish the necessary comment. "... an..." Once again he flinched. He was now operating on full adrenaline. "IDIOT!!!"

The sound reverberated through all of the pits, instantly killing several small plants, and miraculously vitalizing the wounded mage. "Wow, I feel much better," said he.

Suddenly, a package fell from above. It landed on the vagrant, who didn't notice it, but did start screaming "Mary had a little Lamb!" several times. A label on the package read "Dastardly Wizard Kit."

"It came! It came! It finally came!" Cried the Mage with great remorse- uh, I mean "glee." Like a little kid, or the vagrant, as it might be, on Christmas day, the mage ripped into the package. "Now, I can finally be a real mage! ... if I can use it right."

"Argh! Why must everyone around me be classes ahead of me! It is angry-making!"

In this fit of rage, the green clad adventurer looks...different...

"What do you mean different, Boomy?...wait...yes finally!!! I am ... a Rogue?? WTF is a rogue!!?? Hmmm, let me see this scroll of classes that mysteriously appeared on the wall! Ah! No knight?! Oh well, I will now be known as the "Rogue, soon-to-be-Paladin, actually-not-so-soon as-I-assume-it's-on the-opposite-end of-the-spectrum-of-classes, of-Funkadelic-Supremeness. Hmmm, that’s absurdly awkward so, um, just call me whatever it is I'm named."

"Are you finally done talking?" the blue vagrant questioned. "Because the rest of the people left a while ago, and I fell asleep when I hit myself in the head with a rock."

"Hmmm, well I think tha....."

But, just then, he ws interrupted by-

"Yeah, you just interrupted me"

What? No, not me. That!

A fit of maniacal laughter swept through the pit. The group looked all about for the source, the sounds echoing from the candied walls. Descending from the sky -- again -- came a great horned humanoid, orange of flesh and hollow of eye. An aura of stench surrounded the being.

"Foolish mortals!" his voice boomed.

"Who art ye?" the blue one questioned, reverting to an archaic speak for some reason.

"Foolish mortals! Know you not? I am the Spirit of the Legendary Wedge," it told. "The Cheeselemental!"

"Wait, I thought there was some sort of fairy of the cheese," inquired the D.

"Foolish mortals! The fairy is the guardian of the cheese!" it told. "I am the embodiment of it! And I am the one holding the princess captive!"

"Princess?" inquired the now-not-non-mage. "What princess?"

"Foolish mortals! Why... that one!" it said, pointing a stringy tendril at a glowing visage hovering overhead.

"Hey y'all," the audiovisual illusion announced. "I'm your average princess who's horny for anyone that will save me."

"Isn't that offensive to this web site's female patrons?" All presently blankly looked around and scratched the backs of their heads.

"Foolish mortals! ... anyway," interrupted the Cheeselemental, dispelling the vision, "you will never save your beloved princess!"

"Wanna bet, cheddar-breath?" threatened the blue fighter.

"Ched... what? Is that even an insult?" it inquired. "I mean, foolish mortals! I'm made of cheese. What else would anything about me smell li-"

"Quiet, you." Crouching to the ground, he used the Earth to empower himself with an actual element. The vagrant lept at the cheese being, brandishing his mighty spear and an Atlantic salmon which he had been carrying for quite some time but no one seemingly wished to address.

"Moolish fortals!" the cheddar guy jumblingly asserted, easily dodging the blow. "I shall now open a portal for no good reason and without any explanation to scatter you across the globe! ... or at least the immediate area," added he quickly under his breath.

"Watch out!" the wizened wizard admonished. "That's a cheese warp! It is just like your run-of-the-mill micro-localized worm hole, but made of cheese and pure evil, which has remarkably similar properties to cheese!"

The group of unlikely un-heroes stood there for several minutes. Finally, the Funk Rogue said something.

"Uh," he started, with great power and garlickiness, "isn't that thing supposed to, um, do something." The cheese hole was suspended in the air about 20 feet or so, not moving or anything.

"I'm on break!" a sudden voice said suddenly all of a sudden.

"So, are we supposed to just wait here until it gets off break?" asked the mage.

"Yes," said the cheesy element. "That would be very nice of you."

Three hours later...

"So anyhow," the Vagrant was saying. "It turned out that the Easter egg was actually a grenade, and my friend was exploded, instead of dancing." The group stared blankly forward, which was now almost a custom for them at this point.

"Okay... I'm ready," said the cheese hole. With a mighty, mightiful might, it warped them all to another location. The adventures could hear only a "zip" sound, and they were in a different place.

"Hey, I remember you," said the cat to the mage. They all looked around. Everyone was here. All of a sudden, an angry cheeselemental appeared.

"You stupid cheese hole! You teleported them all to the same place."

"Well... I can't always be perfect..." said the cheesey creature-thing.

"And you sent them to the princesses' tower!"

"...my mistake..."

"And you gave them each a bag of money!"

"...sorry..."

"A bag of my money!"

"...eh, I guess I messed up."

The mage stood in the corner, plotting evil plots. "With my new mage powers, I don't have to sit around and take this anymore." Working his wizardly ways, he fabricated a weapon of Mega-Death, not to be confused with the metal band.

"Hmm, new powers from the kit? Let's see them in action!" Snatching the enchantment, Vinny studied it. "Woot! Now I possess the power of a thingy!"

"Hey that was my mage attack..." the mage moped.

"Hmmm, well I can't use this yet because...." He paused, "my shoes are untied!"

The vagrant replied, "So you are not attacking the embodiment of cheese because of that?"

"Well..."

An earsplitting wail brought them all to their knees as the dairy portal roared. Something had bound through the window and attacked the vortex of dairy, tearing through it at alarming speed. It was... it was... being eaten?

"Damn straight, voice man," Gobbo said, licking cheese from his lips. "My never-failing sense of blickity-blork led me here. Just in time, it'd seem, too."

"Oh," Griffith stated, "so it allows you to detect free meals?"

"What? No," the goblin corrected, "it alerts me of easy tail. Speaking of which, you fools better stay away from my blork!" To safeguard his hottie, the fiend blasted the mage while flipping to his next target. Then, in a stunning display of acrobatics, class changed to Rogue in midair. To learn them of the true power of class alteration, he followed his performance with a blow against Vincent on his way back to the ground before rolling past the others to the Princess.

"Hey, baby," the green skin said as tacky as possible, "what's your sign?"

"Never in a million years," she blankly informed him.

"Sweet! That's the best odds I've ever been given!"

"Best odds?" stated the vagrant. "What about that other quiet chick that smelled funny. You seemed to have had better chances with her."

"The cadaver?" asked the elfin one. "Not even close!"

"Well, it has been a few minutes," the Cheeselemental stated, returning from apparently no where, looking at a wristwatch that had the very same origins, "and even although I was failing miserably before, I can only assume now that all of my adversaries have been destroyed. I shall now turn my head upwards to confirm that fact." The party stood about the now forgotten-of-appearance landscape blankly, waiting for the cheese man to make good on his claim. "Eh, why bother. If they are not dead, I am most certain that they are twitching in agony somewhere. Now, instead of killing the princess, which I think was my plan all along... or something," it rambled, never bothering to look the slightest degree up, "I shall leave her locked away in this tower and murder her later -- even though I am not busy at the moment -- giving plenty of time for someone to save her, but since -- as I have already assumed -- none of the champions are still alive, I can do this freely.... foolish mortals."

At that, the Cheeselemental finally left, much to D's contentment.

"Alright!" he exclaimed, letting the hero inside break out through his roguish exterior. "Now I can get the princess out of here... and get the princess." Well, almost heroic.

It was then that the rogue looked about for where the princess could be, as they had all just left her there in plain sight. Then, their gazes shifted to the normal source of problems.

"Mint, why are your cheeks puffy?"

"Ah dun kno," the vagrant managed to muffledly mouth out below shifty eyes.

"Don't worry," assured the goblin. "He just ate a rock. I have learned to keep an eye on him."

"Then where is the princess?" asked the mage. Now, not knowing whom else to blame, the party sought answers elsewhere. "So, has anyone seen the princess?"

"Ah dun kno," told a puffy-cheeked Cheetarius.

The puffy cheeked cat creature slowly looked at a room filled with people ready to destroy him. "Why?!" Screamed the goblin, who had seen his chances steadily decrease over the past few minutes. "Why would you do that to the princess!?!???!?!?!!!!!???!!??...?"

The cat finished swallowing it's meal, and then began to speak. "That... guy... ate my rock." Mint Man looked around innocently. "How was I supposed to know that the rock I found in your belongings belonged to you?"

Cheets looked around. "That rock was important to me! The souls of my ancestors were sealed in it!"

"I thought it tasted funny..." Intelligent as the conversation was, it was quickly interrupting by something slightly less intelligent. A new antagonist leaped in through the window. The entire group stared blankly at the donut-wielding, poisonous, flying rodent. "The cheese will belong to me!!!" It screamed in an annoyingly high-pitched voice.

"Um, I don't mean to interrupt," said the mage, "but we are all idiots. If you just went to the cheese, you would easily get there before us. Why would you go through the extra trouble of trying to destroy us?"

The rat’s wings made a mighty sound as it stood there, realizing how stupid it was. After thinking for a few moments, the idiotic creature responded, "The cheese will belong to ME!!!"

"Hey, angry kobold guy," said the mage. "I think this guy's edible."

"Well, I never turned down a disease infested meal before..."

"But," the worrying furry rodent put to the Ghobling, "have you ever turned down a free disease infested meal that was reduced in fat?"

"Ew," the fiend retched. "All the time!"

"Well, then, it would interest you to know that I am in fact," the ratling said as it spun around and, after the squeaking of a felt tipped marker, turned back to declare, "diet!" revealing the letters D - E - I - T on its body. The goblin fell to his knees in a horrific wailing that shattered the mirrors in the princess’s room. No, wait, that happened because he knelt down in front of it. Sorry.

"Not to worry," announced Gobbo, quickly recovering from his breakdown, "for I shall still claim yonder cheese!" Making a mad dash to the window, he flipped off the sill, driving his rough blade into the stone walls before sliding down the tower in a trail of sparks.

"Aw, damn, man, that was just cool," admitted D. "How could we compete with that?"

"Well, you better think fast," instructed his wizardly leader, "because we don’t want him to get there first and out perform us.

"But you’re the brains-"

"Silence!" the mage ordered. "Think!"

"Well, I know a very stylish way to go," the blue vagrant bragged.

"Jumping out the window?" asked the green warrior. "Hah! Too late. Later, suckers." In a rush, the man bound out the window, his heel barely being caught by the magic user. Of course, he was trained primarily in the dark arts and not at lifting things. So, the two slid out the window and from view.

"Well, I certainly can’t do that now," complained the minty one. "Luckily, I had a backup plan! Going down the stairs coolly!" Placing his foot on the first step in the seemingly endless flight, he lost his footing and tumbled down, sounding a dull "ow" with every bounce. Cheetarius, left alone, looked about where his recently departed rivals had stood. Shrugging, he pressed a button on the wall behind him and took the elevator down to the ground level.

Gobbo slammed into the ground faster than expected with the added weight of his two unplanned hitchhikers latching to his legs. Rubbing his sore muscles, his body horribly pulled, echoing exclamations approached as the Apothecary’s plummet ended atop him. It was then that a light dinged on by a sign reading "Quick & Easy Access to the Captured Princess" followed by parentheses and the word "Bong!", and the elevator doors opened to reveal Cheetarius, who stepped upon the floor-bound goblin unknowingly upon his exit.

"Well, that all sure got us no where," the D warrior stated. "At least we’re by the Mount of Olive Gardens." He pointed to the structure caught shadowing the sunset.

"Yeah," admitted the mage, "but I think we’re actually further from it than we were before! Well, at least there are not distractingly deadly side-paths for us to take." His companion’s head veered to a cave in the opposite direction that belched fire and pure death. In the middle of his bewilderment, the wizard smacked the back of his head. "No!"

"Well," the blue one said for the third time recently, "that’s the last hurtle in our path to the domain of the Legendary Cheese, and now we all have an equal chance to reach it."

"That’s right," noted the rat man. The felinoid double-took.

"When did you get down here?" he asked. "And how?" The rodent shrugged.

"But," asked the ratling, while failing at an attempt to remove the typoed word from his vestments, "what was that you were saying about having equal chances of reaching the prize?"

"Well," the blue bit his tongue, "we’re now all equidistant from it." With a flat stare, the rat man raised a single finger. Following the point with his gaze, he found the goblin already dashing off into the distance while emitting an awkward whooping sound once again. "Aw, damn." Another "ding" sounded as another set of doors opened next to the other one, labeled with "Longer Taking Way to Princess’s Quarters."

"Foolish Mortals!"

The fiend then fell over after entering a dark, creepy, and generic forest -- minus a few details -- for this was the Forest of Pitfalls and Lacerations!!!

"God dammit!" The ghobbish one cursed! "Why must I always stumble into the random landforms with negative titles? Why can't I once end up in the Castle of Gold and Precious Gems? Or the Bath House of Bi-Sexual Female Swimsuit Models?"

"Or male models," the blue vagrant responded upon catching up. "Wait, did I just say that out loud?" Luckily, the others were too stunned by his saying it to respond, except for the Mage, whom was secretly channeling his thoughts into the fresh one, in a spell which is far above his ability, and therefore inexplicable!

"Argh! Kill the evil heathen! And then make an amendment!!" The suddenly regrouped force of others chanted.

But just then, the crowd plus the Mage whom is not really gay but had wandering thoughts fell into, gasp, a pitfall.

"Well, now that we cleared that one up, let’s continue on our journey to the Mountains of Spaghetti Warehouses!" the green clad warrior exclaimed.

"I thought we were going to the Mountains of Olive Gardens!" The felinian also exclaimed.

"If you two don't stop fighting, I'm turning this adventure around right here, and you'll both eat at the Peninsula of Fazoli's!" the blue vagrant exclaimed of his location.

"No, not that place again! The breadsticks were stale...stale!!!" the two hungering ones exclaimed, with the exclamation!!!

"Jinx!" the armored one laughed.

"Erasies!" the cat-man replied.

"Wait this is stupid..." To settle it more maturely, he smacked Cheetarius on the arm.

Just then, the group heard a panting from the distance. Over a mound rose the creamy orange head of the Cheeselemental. Stopping at the crown to catch his breath a spell, he ran down the slope to our group (although he did normally levitate) and addressed the group:

"Foolish.... mortals," it stuttered in between heavy breathing.

"Yes, swimsuit models are hot," the mage said. All eyes turned to him, especially the empty cavities which served as the Cheeselemental's.

"Hey, I'm hear guys... foolish mortals," whined the Cheese Dude, "and I'm evil."

"What made you just realize that now, Mage?" asked Mint.

"I dunno, I was just thinkin' about it," he replied, still paying no heed to the dairy one.

"I have a puppy," the enemy told, "and I'm not afraid to eat it." He suddenly pulled a small, round-eyed young pup from a dimensional pocket he kept for just such occasions and slowly moved it toward his gaping maw, waiting for some sort of reaction. The only once that gave him any notice was the dog, which licked his face and yapped so utterly cutely that the Cheeselemental had no choice but to release it. "Foolish dog-mortal!"

"Asians are hot, too," the blue guy said. Everyone now paid attention to him.

"Excuse me?" asked the fiend, for some reason haunting the group again.

"Well, I was thinking about them, too," responded the dullard, "a lot."

"And male swimsuit models are hot," the D stated, but this was one comment too many and too much.

During this meaningful conversation, the Cheeselemental was just now returning. He would have come back more quickly from his task, but the dog turned out to not be fond of the cheddar lord, but in fact fond of his flavor. After a rather comical one-leg chase of a small puppy and an even more comical defeat, he depart for an old tool shed he had stored a novelty sized cannon in. From atop the hill, he took aim at the group...

"Now, those foolish mortals shall feel my wraith!"

"Ew," complained a specter from the background. "What are they going to do to me?"

"Er, wrath," he corrected himself after consulting his splelcheckr.

The mighty Cheeselemental ordered his ghostly servant to light the fuse after convincing him that it would be better for him to in case of an accident since he could not die a second time (a fact the Cheeselemental knew full well was incorrect but held it over the wraith's head anyway) and it spewed its destructive contents upon the party, all the while breaking for tea...

"Dude, you can't move like that!" complained the vagrant, throwing his chair from the table in defiance. "That's cheating!"

"What are you talking about?" asked the sorcerer. "We are drinking tea, not playing a game." He should have known that the blue clad vagrant would not hear of it. Kicking over the table, he wielded Gungnir in the magic-user's face. It was then that the sky grew dark. They could not turn fast enough after seeing the shadows below to face their destiny...

"It's..... cheese!" they cheered. The feeding frenzy began, quite luckily, too, since they were embarking upon a land with no edible food for miles....

"What? No! They are eating my evil weapon of evil and tastefulness!" crying the Cheeselemental. "That cat-guy is suffocating in cheese and not even minding it! Bah! I shall show them all. I shall banish them away inside of this bluish portal!"

"Bwa ha ha ha!" screamed the idiotic food-related elemental. "Now, my mighty portal will transport them all to a place so terrible, it gives me three consecutive heart attacks just thinking about it." The group looked at the cheese creature expectantly. "What?" He said. "I don't have a heart. I'm evil and made of cheese."

The blue portal appeared in front of them like a black hole, except that it was blue, and not black. With a mighty roar, it let loose it's massive power.

"Ow!" said the mage. A small coin had been flicked at him, and had hit him in the head. A small hand was sticking out of the portal, and was creating mischief. "Stupid Portal!" cried the evil cheese guy. "You're supposed to be sucking them in to a vortex of terror, anger, and skin irritation."

Sorry cheesy dude, but the skin irritation joke's already been used. I'm sure that breaks some rule that we have, so I'm going to have to punish you.

A bolt of lightning struck from the heavens and left the edible foe stunned.

"Hey!" cried the vagrant. "Look at that portal! I bet it goes somewhere painful and pointless. Let's go through it!"

The group looked around for a few seconds, shrugged, and went through the portal. The Cheeselemental could be heard laughing through the ashes that were now his lips.

The group arrived at the next place in complete darkness. Everyone looked around furiously, but could see nothing. A deep, booming voice soon filled the silence. "You are now in the Valley of Week-Old Cafeteria Food. What is your purpose here? And why are your eyes closed?"

Meanwhile, the lunatic gnome peered backwards to witness a large blue vortex swallow those he had sought to defeat. He, along with the rat thing, had wandered off some time ago when people stopped paying attention to him, despite the fact that he was practicing his balancing act involving twenty-one empty 40s while juggling and simultaneously drinking a twenty-second. He had only begun to scale the steep and unforgiving walls of the barren and lifeless Mount of Olive Gardens when he heard the rip in space-time surrounded by nicely aged laughter.

"Shut the hell up, voice!" The goblin continued ranting, "Why do I have to be informed on my own actions?" On descent, the ratling evened his elevation with the green one.

"What on earth are you screaming at now, psycho?" the vermin inquired, rolling his beady and seedy eyes. "Have the gingerbread men returned?"

"Don't be foolish," Gobbo answered, brushing off his shirt in random locations. "They never left. But, for once, I am not concerned with the tiny moon-dwelling snack people trying to replace my body with a dastardly copy. There seemed to be some sort of swirling blue mass over there. I sure hope it was not another portal that warped people to some bizarre and off-tract location. We sure don't need anymore of those." Both their gazes slowly turned to looking out the screen.

"Whoa, when did that get here," the rodent guy asked, picking a framed set of thin wire mesh from the mountain's side. "I could use this to keep the bugs outta my house!"

"You have a house?"

"Well, a hole." The goblin persisted his doubting glare. "Okay, I lied," the oddity admitted. "I just wanted to feel special." Tossing the screen aside, the two remained motionless in silence for a moment. "Wait, weren't we talkin' 'bout somethin'?"

"Oh, yeah," the Ghobling realized, "about that disturbance down by..." Squinting his eyes, a shape was discerned. "The cheese guy?" The rodent's notched ears stood up.

"There's a cheese guy? Near by?" it exclaimed excitedly.

"Calm down, goober," the goblin insisted, bopping it over the head. "Didn't you two run into each other before? I mean, you had to have. You were in the same location at the same time!" The ratling shrugged.

"I sorta zone out at times," it admitted. "My brain shuts down and everything. It's like I'm not even there!" Somehow, it expected twiddling its fingers of further illustrating its awkward problem. The vile fiend was paying no attention to the rat man, however, and was contemplating what may have transpired between the Cheeselemental and the others.

"Ultra-curses," Gobbo damned the situation. "What if that cheddar retard screwed up again and sent them beyond the Mount of Olive Gardens? Then... then they wouldn't have to brave its many unbearable trials!" His head cranked upwards to see scattered people holding heaping plates of food. Olive Garden food! "No, it's just too much!" Loosing his grasp on the cliff side from covering his eyes from the horrid site, he crashed upon the ground at the foot of the mount, all the way down.

"Are you alright?" the rat-wing guessed, not leaving its aloft position.

"Yeah, I'm pretty good," Gobbo replied, sitting up, putting him even with the vermin's height. "It's a good thing I'm lazy and slow."

After standing up and carefully dusting off his terribly ragged and tattered pants, the green fiend and rodent thing dashed to the site suspected of the Cheeselemental's dealings. There, they found the cheese being along with a small puppy and a wraith. The cute little dog repeated bites and attempts to make the absolute cheese part of his territory while he, unable to harm the adorable creature himself, demanded his specter do it. The wraith, however, was currently taking its break and reading a magazine. The goblin sprang out boldly, mocking the greater being, who returned in kind with-

"Okay, you can stop now!" Gobbo yelled out. "We're actually here." Composing himself, he defiantly hurled a finger at the Cheeselemental and opened his mouth to unload the insulting words of, "... Dang it! Why did that stupid voice have to set such high standards for my yet-to-transpire actions? Now they're just gonna be all lame and stuff." After getting over his pouting stage, he inquired, in a more threatening manner than his pout, "What did you do with the others?"

"You mean your friends?" it refuted.

"No, the others!" the fiend reiterated.

"Foolish Mortals!" it taunted him. "They're in the Bluish Portal! And you, soon, shall feel the bite of my Gluish K- Hey! Stop that!"

The rat thing, consumed in a hungry frenzy, began to consume the Cheeselemental rapidly with is pointy rat teeth, as rat men are accustomed to have, especially the winged variety. Gobbo, seeing that his chances of knowing what happened to his competition slowly slip down a gullet, trotted off in deep depression past the still gaping dimensional vortex and a sign that read "Go in here, stupid!" that the dog had erected. Now that's one smart dog. Unfortunately, to relieve his sadness, the goblin decided to hack off the adorable puppy's head and quaff its blood before mutilating it severely. Wiping dirt in his mouth as preparation, the diabolical one wandered back to transverse the Mount of Olive Gardens, the final obstruction to the Dire Mire, leaving the rat man to his own business. Choking down the last remnants of the mighty dairy-product lord, the vermin rolled over to his back, letting his greatly swelled belly hang in the air, as he passed out. The wraith examined the rodent’s deeds and smiled wickedly. Seeing its master was no more, the ghostly minion seized the opportunity to take a vacation in New Jersey! aka: Funsville! Belching out a foul cloud of churned goods, the pest's eyes slowly opened, showing their original color no more, but now, they were... cheese!

"Foolish Mortals!"

The Blue Vagrant and the Green Knight awoke to a strange sight. The Mage was now break dancing in the middle of the room.

"What... What are you doing?" asked the knight.

"I'm..." started the mage, "I'm tryin' to keep this post alive!"

"Where are we?" asked the Vagrant.

"We're in an inn in the small village of Ren."

"How did we get here?"

"Well..." started the mage, "I'll tell you, but it's a long story..."

"That's okay." said the vagrant. "I'm not going to pay attention anyhow."

"Erm, okay. After we reappeared through that portal, we were quickly thrown into another portal which led near The Dungeon of Unlikely Death. We entered the dungeon and braved its many traps to claim the Charm of Killing from the Dragon of Eternal Fire. Then, just as we were about to escape the dungeon, the entire place began to collapse. We used all of our powers to escape, and came back into the sun. A traveling band of thieves mugged us in our weakened state, and left us for dead. Luckily, a kindly old man found us, and brought us all the way back to his hometown 500 miles away, where we are now."

"Wait, wait, wait," said The D. "Now what really happened?"

"Okay, we stopped by an all-you-can-eat cookie buffet and ate until we passed out, and... now we're here."

"Okay, and why did you wake up first? Aren't you supposed to be the most frail of all of us?"

"I didn't. You two woke up first, but there were more cookies left, so you both ended up passed out again."

"And, how do you know all of this?"

"I... don't know. It probably has somethin' to do with pixie dust, though."

"And where's the cat?"

"Well, I think it's 'cause he's a carnivore, but he didn't want any cookies. I think he went on towards the Dire Mire without us."

Mint looked up from the ground, where he had been staring for at least twenty minutes now, despite the fact that he had only been conscious for the last five minutes. "Did you say something about a carnival?!" The other two heroes ignored him.

"And why do you think that Cheet went on without us? And why would we let him?"

"I think the fact that we let him go may be somewhat related to our combined negative IQ, and I think that he left us because before he left, he slashed us all several times, and then ran away while screaming 'Ha ha! Fools! Now I will claim the mighty Cheddar for myself!'"

"Yes... interesting."

"Well, now how the Hel are we gonna get to the Mire?" asked the vagrant. "I dun even know where this town is!"

"What does the map say?" asked the illusionist. "Wait a minute, this is a place mat from that buffet we were just at!"

"How can you tell?"

"Because it says right at the top 'Buffet Restaurant You Were Just At' and it is scribbled all over in crayon." The blue one looked down to his masterpiece of artwork, depicting his sticky self standing over what could only be assumed to be some sort of treasure chest full of Ho-Hos.

"It's just as good," justified the brigand. "According to this map, we are currently residing in my crotch. We have only my torso's length until we get to my head. I believe that is where The Cheddar is."

"There's nothing in your head, Mint," Vinny told, "and no one ever goes near the former." He hung his hatted head in the shame of knowing the knight was right.

"Well, if this whole adventure has taught me anything..." began the mage. He closed his eyes and spun around as fast as he could. When he finally collapsed, he pointed from the ground straight ahead and spoke. "That is where we need to go! Through the House of..." Pausing shortly to consult his Mad Libs, he restarted "Through the House of Smaller Houses we go!"

"Shock! Not the House of Smaller Houses!" gasped the green knight. "They have houses in their -- really tiny ones. It's creepy!"

"Oh, get over your obscure phobias, Vinny."

He growled at the vagrant and responded, "Don't we have to go through the Dumping Grounds of Imperfect Squares first?"

"Imperfect squares?" a panicked Mint screamed. "Nooooooooo!" He flurried about the lodge, hacking everything in his path to bits, especially D. Boy, did he give that a good thrashin'.

Meanwhile, in other parts of the world less cared about, Cheetarius Griffith wanders thru a desolate Plain of Planeness.

"Dang, there sure are a lot of planes here in the Plain of Planes," he noted. "Who'd a thunk it?"

"I might have!" snarled a voice from the darkness... darkness of a plane.

"Who goes there?" demanded Cheet. "Do you have food? I haven't had a bite for days... so hungry."

"Foolish Mortals!" the rat thing declared, revealing itself, in a voice unfamiliar for the face. "You shall face my dairy wrath! ... two to three times a day!" The gnarled rodent lunged at the felinoid, its massive incisors being caught by his massive hammer, coming from absolutely nowhere.

Meanwhile, in Absolutely Nowhere, Gobbo journeyed thru a landscape speckled with very large hammers.

"Dammit! I knew I shouldn't have taken those directions from Shiftery the Deceiver of Paths," cursed the goblin. But, faintly, he heard a conflict off afar. Channeling mystic energies, he hastened himself to obtain a blinding speed. He found the cat man and the rat man having themselves some combat, man. "Hey, I bet if I helps him out he may give me money," the fiend schemed, "or an ex-girlfriend's number. Cat chicks equal bong!" Making like a stealthy assassin, he slinked into the skirmish unseen thru the shadows and drove the mighty Scottish blade thru the vermin's scrawny neck, raising it to cleave the head in twine.

"Wow, thanks for saving me, Gob, here's one of my prior lady-friend's numbers," was what the Cheet did not say. "What the crap was that?" Yeah, that's what really happened.

"Well, excuse me for saving your life, ass," Gobbo accepted his thanks (at least in his head). "But you were in a battle."

"Dude, it was cat versus a mouse. Who'd you think was the one in danger?" The goblin's thoughts wandered back to his youth in the city where his entire family was consumed by a simple barn mouse in a single day. That, or it was a really funny dream.

"Er, well... hey, look over there!" the Ghobling diverted. Gathering arcane forces, he became one with the Shadows to escape the realm of light. Looking around confused, and a little bit relieved at the green one's departure, Cheetarius finally shrugged at the happening and decided not to let the ages of tradition end with him. Tying a Mickey Mouse bib around his neck, the cat man knelt down to... oh, no...

"Foolish Mortals!" meowed the encheesened felinoid.

Piles and piles of old numbers were scattered about around the group of three. "What?!" cried the blue one. "What are all these numbers here for?!"

"I think those are," said the Mage as he peeked from his hiding spot in the back of the group, "imperfect squares."

"Wha...? I thought that it was some kind of cereal."

"Yeah, me too," said the D. "You know, the reject kind in a bag."

"I'll be honest," said the mage. "I thought it was too. I just wanted to sound smart... but now I'm just hungry..."

"Hey, I think that's the exit up ahead!" said the D. A big sign labeled "Exit" was just within the sight of the group. "Y'know," said the Mage, "it's probably just a trap, but let's go for it anyhow."

"Let's turn it into a race!" yelled a voice from no apparent direction. The D and the Mint took off in the exit direction, which the Mage quickly falling behind. All of a sudden, the mage used his levitating powers to move ahead of the group. "Hey!" said the Rogue. "I didn't know you could fly."

The Mage slowed down just enough to talk. "I can't. This is an illusion. My real body is back there struggling to breathe."

The Illusion continued to dash forward, stopped only by a blade slicing its illusionary head off of its illusionary body. The two warriors stopped in their tracks. The Mage, quite a bit behind the rest of the group, struggled to catch up.

"Hey," said the Vagrant, "I think that that was a trap. Let's draw our weapons and run forward!" The Rogue shrugged, pulled out a dagger, and dashed forward. The Vagrant, whose salmon had been decaying for the past few weeks, instead pulled out a can of green beans to take on this adversary. A ghostly figure appeared in the way of the exit.

"Hey, cool!" said the mage. "This is our first boss fight! We must be able to get all kinds of cool experience for this!"

"It seems to be no ordinary foe! I think a class change is in order," D exclaimed then stated! With unbelievable fakeness, he adopted the ways of a swashbuckler. "Yar, I be'th the swashbuckler commanding the four winds and me morningstar."

"You don't have to talk like a pirate just because you're a swashbuckler, and don't you need a sword to ummm...swashbuckle? I mean deadly maces are good, but that’s just not you," Magey McMage criticized.

"Err, not this time, as we have a rather nondescript ghostly figure advancing on us," the vagrant noticed. Yet as the figure advanced, its body took on no shape, and when you put the cursor on it, it's called "Ethereal Amorphous Figure". No one seemed to question the mysterious cursor.

"Wait," Writer said, remembering something long ago from mage class, "I remember that Ethereal Amorphous Figures take +3 from fire! Plus freaking three!" Even when the Writer used several pantomimes involving putting his hand into a plus sign, and trying to mimic fire, nobody realized or cared what he meant. "It means its flammable..." He sighed and gave them a blank stare.

"Oh...." the D said, "Wait don't you mean inflammable?"

"I thought it was unflammable?" Minty claimed.

"Gah!!!" Not learning anything from the wizard, the D charged the phantom, his attack falling straight through it, as it was a phantom. It proceeded to drain the remainder of his health.

"See! That’s what happens when you hit party members too much!" The buckleswasher yelled while lying down in a semiconscious state, casting an evil eye at Minty for his last blow.

"Oh... right. Sorry about that," apologized the man of much, magical mints. He cast the spell of Earthen Aura on Vinny to correct his wrongdoings... at least these ones. You wouldn't want to even know what else he's done. It's disgusting!

"Wow, that healing seemed to take a while," said the revived green D. "Hey, what happened to that thing that was in front of the exit?"

"I.... think it got bored and left," told the illusionist, his true form finally catching up with all of his illusionary ones.

"Ah!" screamed the vagrant upon seeing the many magi. "This is creepy as all get-out! Which one of you is the real Writer?"

"I am," a choir arose.

"This just doesn't make a lick of sense! Illusions cannot think they are the original; they are not intelligent just because they are modeled after someone who is."

"That's for sure," agreed a second blue clad vagrant, standing next to he that just spoke.

"Great, how are we supposed to tell which one is the real one?" complained the illusionist, dispelling his many, other forms.

"I can answer that," Vinny told, taking a great, big stab into Mint's head.

"Ows! My brains! I keeps my thinkin' in there!"

"Was that really necessary? We could have, y'know, poked with a stick or something."

"I prefer my method."

"Hey, I think I found something over here," said the glammer, already proving more useful than his corporeal twin. There, sleeping underneath a pile of pis was the amorphous ghost-blob-dealy. "He must have got tired of waiting and dozed off."

"Looks like this is going to be the easiest boss-fight ever," chuckled the illusionist while unsheathing a small dagger.

"Oh no, its not!" interrupted the Vinny, who kicked the blob as hard as he could in an area that he thought was its crotch... repeatedly. It rose up, throwing seventeens and other fruity prime numbers all about.

"Why did you do that?" sharply question Writer.

"Because I hate you," admitted Vinny.

"But... it is going to kill you to."

"Not if he can't see me!" he stated, retreated backwards to the top of a mound. He spun about in a dazzling display on to reveal when he came full circle that his hand now covered his eyes. "Ha ha you can't see me," he sang.

While the green pirate spun around childishly, the Writer and blue clad stood helplessly to the blobby blob.

"Oh, no! We are doomed certainly!" cried the Vagrant. "What ever could save us?"

"Wait, why don't we just kill it?" questioned D. "I mean, I have this big mace and have been wanting to try a new battle-skill I've been tinkering with, the V-Driver!" As an eerie green glow surrounded his body, he prepared to trust his weapon forward with devastating force, but a blinding flash halted his action. It was, shock of all shocks, a familiar face returned, dragging down a jagged edge through the amorphic form, cutting the thing in twine.

"Shock, the mean, green, fiend," the Minty one exclaimed, "Lobo!"

"That's not Lobo," Writer yelled, "it's Gobbo!"

"Aw," whined the fresh breathed guy, "but I wanted it to Detective Lobo..."

"Wait a minute," questioned the D, "when did you get here? And how?" Thinking further, he brought forth more questions, “And why couldn’t I hurt the blobule?”

The kobold shrugged and replied, "Plot hole." The three looked up to see a gaping hole floating in the middle of space.

"Well, there's something you don't see every day," admitted Writer. Mint slowly raised his hand. "No," he stressed, "you do not see them everyday." Meekly, he lowered his hand.

"Oh, great!" blurted out Vinny. "You stupid freak! Do you see what you did?" He pointed to the shapeless shape (oxymoronic?!?) as each half of it rose up, become two distinct blobby beings instead of one.

"Ah, crappies..." groaned Gobbo.

"Wait, wait," said Vinny. "I remember this game. If you keep slicing it, eventually, it'll just disappear. Poof!"

"It'll disappear, poof?!" asked Mint Man, with utter zealousness.

"No, no, no!" said the angry fiend. "Don't you guys remember? FtRPG is a joke, not a game!"

"...what's FtRPG?" asked the writer, who didn't want to go an entire post without saying something.

"Erm, I think it had something to do with dancing toilets and flushing chipmunks." The group started blankly forward, as their death quickly approached them, despite their idiotic rambling.

"Wait!" The Illusionist suddenly cried. "I've got it!" The wizard extended his hands and concentrated on a spell. As the mage chanted several words that seemed to be Pig Latin, two shirts materialized on the phantom blobs.

"...Erm, Mister Illusionist, I don't mean to pick at ya or anything... but how does that help us?" Vinny asked. The Mage pointed at the shirts. "Look closely."

The entire group focused their attentions on the shirt. Gradually, words began to appear on the shirts.

"I'm" appeared first, followed by "with." Soon the final word sprung into existence. "Stupid."

"This doesn't help us at all, does it?" asked the D.

"... No, not really. But it's hilarious!" said the Illusionist. "I mean, look at 'em! They're with stupid!"

The Goblin nudged The Writer with the weapon that he had just used to cut the beast in half. "You forgot to put the arrows! It ain't funny without the arrows!"

The Mage chanted a few more words, and arrows appeared, each one pointing at the other phantom. The ghost-like creatures began spinning around, trying to get the arrows to point away, but this was a powerful enchantment indeed. The arrows would always point to the other.

"Well, this is all well and good." Said the D. "But I need less joke-making and more killing!"

"Yeah," stated the Goblin. "I'm with this other, equally green humanoid. We should be slashing them continuously, despite the fact that it will only make them stronger."

"Well..." started Writer, "I'm kinda tired after that spell. And it's someone else's turn to come up with an idea."

As the mighty battle raged on, the blue one was sitting in a corner, sniffling.

"I wanted a shirt..."

After a month of advancing upon the heroes, the ghostly unshaped ones still were several yards away, grimacing madly with nonexistent mouths.

"Got any eights?" The vagrant asked D.

Staring at several eights sitting face up on the cave floor, Diesel said, "Nay, go fish."

"Damn! I always lose at this game," Señor Mint complained.

"Guys," writer interrupted, "if we don't deal with these figures, they may get to us in several weeks."

"Well we could just move a few feet away again, and that'd take care of 'em for a while." the Gobloid reasoned, "Wait! I don't reason, how 'bout we just dive in the ethereal ooze that they be?" With that, he and the Mint stripped to swimming trunks and became enveloped in creature.

"Grab the fishing pole again D," Writer stated rather nonchalantly, "Man, you think they'd learn after last time."

"Hell, I didn't know they would do it the first time, let alone the next six." D shook his head. Pulling the two out of goop, everyone was bored of being in the cave.

"I guess I'll have to deal with these things," the knight rose up and began to hurl his mighty mace at the phantoms...

Or so he thought, because he was incapacitated and lying on the floor helplessly.

"Dammit, Mint! Next time you heal me with that stupid Earthen Aura, make sure it has restoration properties involved so I can...."

"Is he still mumbling?" Gobbo asked, "He's been incoherently jabbering ever since you thrashed him a good one Mint."

"Maybe we should take him to a hospital?" the illusionist questioned.

"Nah, he'd be mad we killed those ghosts and didn't share any exp with him." The vagrant said. The three ran off, leaving the crumpled body to sit where it is.

"... God damn, they did wha... a... t...?"

"I'm finding it hard to remember," the vagrant spoke up. "Where were we again?"

"I don't even remember," Writer responded, "I'm just glad we're out of there."

"Oh, yeah," sarcastically agreed the goblin, "and our current location is a lot better!"

"I think it is," answered the minty one. "It's fun! Wee!"

"Oh, of course you'd say that," Gobbo scolded. "You have the brain of a two year old girl! You couldn't possibly fathom the situation we're in!"

"What do you mean 'situation'?" he inquired.

"Well, I believe he is referring to how, after we escaped that ghastly blobular deal," the illusionist explained, "we somehow managed to find the dreadful Dire Mire-"

"And don't you question it!" the kobold yelled at seemingly no one.

"Um, right... anyways, shortly after entering, we were confronted by a perilous beast of three lungs-"

"Which doesn't make any sense, really," Gobbo again interrupted. "I mean, first, how could we tell it had three lungs and how would such make it any more dangerous than a two lunged beast?"

"The fact that each of the lungs stuck out of its back and spewed forth deadly death gas?" the Blue Vagrant informed.

"Ooh! You got owned by the idiot!"

"Yeah! ... hey!"

"So, after it somehow got subdued by Gobbo wielding a toothpick-"

"That really was something, wasn't it?"

"- we wound up in our current predicament: ensnared by the horrid Swamp Snare Tree, which is our bad situation. Which I really don't see just who we wound up caught by it. I mean, it's completely neon colored!"

"The snares had cookies in them," the Ghobling whispered to the mage.

"Oh, right... those."

"Um, okay, that's all well and good, but that wasn't what I was asking," the Blue grudged out.

"Then, what were you asking?"

"... what's a 'situation'?" The blaring idiocy brought pain to the two adventurers, causing blood to seep from their ears.

"Gah! Our brains!" So profound was the mental damage, that the Snare Tree, though lacking a true brain, instantly withered and died.

"... hooray! I freed us!"

The D-Knight awoke in a daze, looking around for his deranged companions.

"Dammit, left again!"

The three wandered through the Dire Mire, snatching the cookies from Snare trees with the forgotten fishing poles.

"Maybe we should find that guy in armor?" The weak and emotional illusionist thought out loud.

"Woah, your brain is shooting sounds out loud!" The vagrant exclaimed.

"No, its just coming out of my mouth... But seriously, he'll probably get caught in those cookie traps too!"

"Yeah, but if we help him now, we won't have the guy who crashes in at the end with like a giant airship, or something predictable like that."

Meanwhile, at the exit of the cavern, the green clad spied some freshly baked cookies surrounded by neon rope.

"Mmm, floor cookies."

And the rest of the group continued, almost to their goal of the Hairy Dairy Fairy's lair.

"So, then," the illusionist questioned, pushing through some thick bog flora, "how much further do you think it'll be until we find-"

"The Hairy Dairy Fairy!" screamed the goblin, pushing the others from his way was he threw a guiding finger forward at the great beast which lied just ahead.

"It cannot be," exclaimed the blue-clad Vagrant. "This is it? The end of our quest? All of our trials over these past ten months-"

"Few days," corrected the illusionist, "tops."

"-and now it comes to an end," he continued. "At last, my friends, we shall-" His words were cut off again as a mud covered talon smashed into his face.

"Mine! Mine!" screamed the goblin as he bound ahead of his former partners. A great shape began to manifest before him, crafting itself from the light. He ceased his advance, falling and scurrying away on his back as it took the shape of his worst fear. "Nooo! A bath!"

"Just what do you think you are doing?" demanded the wizard, concentrating on a glow within his hand that mimicked the porcelain fright. "You thought we would bring you all the way here and you would just snap up the Legendary Cheese for yourself? Huh?"

"... yeah, that's pretty much it," the fiend said with a shrug of his shoulders, scampering back to his feet to reach the prize. Not wanting him to reach the floating fluff ball first, the blue one gave a mighty leap forward, stretching his arms out far. The mage dashed toward the mythical cow-esque being, as well. They all three sped towards the bovine pixie, straining their hardest to get it first. Shadows began to surround them from all sides, but their focus was on the shaggy ball. Whoever did would be the one to receive the most epic of cheddars. Their distances were all tied, making who would be the victor unclear...

Do you know which it was whom obtained this most glorious treasure? ... Neither do I. It is unknown as to who truly won this amazing contest, this race through a perilous and strange world. The true end to this story has been lost to time, to legend, or to too much to drink. There are many ideas, however, that tell of an end, but none tell the same tale. Here be one such telling...

... Flying through the air, the pointy, aerodynamics of the goblin gave him the lead.

"'Tis mine!" he proclaimed, gaining lead with each slowly passing moment. "'Tis mine! 'Tis mine! 'Tis mi-" The three crashed into one another, none having the Fairy within their grasps. "What's going on here?" demanded Gobbo, looking about for the culprit. Upon analyzing his surrounding, he noted a looming shadow. Tracing it to its source, he saw a hairy being shrouded in darkness. Glowing eyes burned from this black as an outstretched, clawed, furred arm clasped the Hairy Dairy Fairy within its hand.

"Looking for this?" the lack-light figure purred.

"Who are you, and what do you think you are doing?" scolded the mage, irritated that someone outside of the small group had gained possession of the glitter winged globe before them.

"What I am doing is taking back what is rightfully mine," deeply huffed the large person. "As for who I am," he snarled, "Foolish Mortals!"

"Oh, ya've gotta be crappin' me," cursed the goblin. "Aren't you dead?"

"He did?" blurted out the mintous one. "When did that happen?"

"Oh, you know," he blandly explained, "some time ago when we were in one of those dimensions."

"Which dimension?" he wondered. "I think we've been in, like, eighty."

"Get out!" doubted the sorcerer. "You can count up to eighty?"

"Anyhoo, that lil' rat guy chewed up the big bad cheese, last I saw. Apparently he's back... and very moldy."

"Foolish Mortal!" he repeated, stepping from the shade. "I am Cheetarius Griffith!" The felinoid revealed himself, in the non-perverted way, with his new encheesened eyes. "I consumed that wretched host and gained his powers." The trio stood still for a moment without exchanging words.

"Who the hell is Cheetarius Griffith?" asked it-doesn't-really-matter.

"Oh, c'mon, guys!" the cat man whined with an awkward, uncharacteristic change in his voice. "I was there with you... doing stuff... kinda." The blue and pointy hat shrugged at one another. "It matters not," boasted Griffith, reverting back to his booming voice. "I now have the Hairy Dairy Fairy! I am victorious! Ghoulish Chortle!" He spoke the action rather than perform it.

"But you can't win," Mint complained, "you're the guardian of the Cheese. You're job is to keep those from getting it!"

"I am? When did that happen?"

"Well, when you ate the rat who ate the cheese who had the job in the first place," rationalized the wizard. "With cheese power comes cheese responsibility."

"What?" the hybrid man shouted. "Oh, screw that noise! Wanna just buy her from me? How much you guys got?"

"I have a few twenties on me," the illusionist spoke while searching his pockets.

"Some coins, some Milky Ways, and a long since expired condom," revealed the blue, emptying his large coat's pockets.

"Whatever's in my wallet," added Gobbo, holding up some bound leather marked with the initials "V. D."

"Sold!" accepted the cat man, swiping up the payment.

"Now give her here, Cheet," calmly ordered the goblin. A tap on his shoulder from the illusionist and the following point alerted him to the cat man flying off through the air.

"Suckers!" he sneered as he waved the booty mockingly. "Er, I mean, Foolish Mortals!"

"Damn," understated Gobbo. "I did not see that coming."

"And we didn't see this one coming, either," noted Mint.

"Which one?" A response was never delivered as a giant, amorphous shape came crashing down from the sky, ridden by the D Knight.

"I have no idea how this happened," he admitted.

END

Last Modified - February 8th, 2007 | Established - February 8th, 2007