Missed the shipment, too. Tragicker. Told em it was out of my hands, which it was, really. Hard to pick sides before you can tell who's winnin. They're mad if they thought I was luggin all that back by myself anyway, so if it chafes em they can bite my twat.
At least I could squeeze em for the place they took Mr. Honcho's wands. Cuthbert himself gave me the tip right in front of everybody. Not much for subtlety, but gods usually ain't. I think most of em had me pegged anyway.
Oh yeah: the wands are for stoppin the flood. I dunno, personally, I think it might improve the place if more of it was underwater. Picture it: "Cauldron, now with bigger lake!" They'll be linin up at the gates. No? Your loss.
So, we're in a cave, right? Watch the first step. Long drop, and water for ages. Gotta gondola tho, which is pure class. The rooms is cozy, too. I could get used to livin in a place like this, only there's this smell. Maybe dad's cookbook has somethin I could whip up for that.
That's if anything's left standin when we're through. Somewhere between here and the Lucky Monkey, the dragon figured out how to teleport. I know, right? It's like if a bull could teleport into a china shop. Tragickest yet. Every time we lose sight a him, the place loses anotha load-bearin wall and he loses anotha few gallons a blood. He's fallen ass first into about ten different flavors a spikes and needles, and don't get me started on the great big honkin dragon skeleton. He don't gripe much tho. I mean the dragon, not the skeleton. Tho I can see how you'd be confused.
(Note to self: get this guy's blood appraised.)
Otha than that, it's been surreal. We're like this deputized police force for the big-G Good Guys. I never been in one a those before. Mostly because I generally ain't given the chance to get anywhere near a bunch a magic wands whetha they been abdupted by a evil cult or not. Apparently Osiris here has been seen about town thwartin the fell plots with a bunch of otha jerks, so they started trustin em with betta jobs. Only the otha jerks turned up M.I.A. so now he's got us.
He don't seem too interested in claimin the leader's hat tho. We don't got much in leaders really. At first I thought we was all united in our love of lithe, oiled-up gladiators. So I was lookin to our resident oiled-up gladiator and waitin for him to start barkin orders like a real army man. But nobody seems to wanna listen to the poor precious babe. But he don't seem to talk much either, more just stares. I'm used to that tho.
So I guess these folks is pretty malleable. And yet they got a lotta talent, so that's good news. Maybe I can give em a little harmless encouragement. Steer em to where the real money is. While the dragon's in anotha room.
At least I could squeeze em for the place they took Mr. Honcho's wands. Cuthbert himself gave me the tip right in front of everybody. Not much for subtlety, but gods usually ain't. I think most of em had me pegged anyway.
Oh yeah: the wands are for stoppin the flood. I dunno, personally, I think it might improve the place if more of it was underwater. Picture it: "Cauldron, now with bigger lake!" They'll be linin up at the gates. No? Your loss.
So, we're in a cave, right? Watch the first step. Long drop, and water for ages. Gotta gondola tho, which is pure class. The rooms is cozy, too. I could get used to livin in a place like this, only there's this smell. Maybe dad's cookbook has somethin I could whip up for that.
That's if anything's left standin when we're through. Somewhere between here and the Lucky Monkey, the dragon figured out how to teleport. I know, right? It's like if a bull could teleport into a china shop. Tragickest yet. Every time we lose sight a him, the place loses anotha load-bearin wall and he loses anotha few gallons a blood. He's fallen ass first into about ten different flavors a spikes and needles, and don't get me started on the great big honkin dragon skeleton. He don't gripe much tho. I mean the dragon, not the skeleton. Tho I can see how you'd be confused.
(Note to self: get this guy's blood appraised.)
Otha than that, it's been surreal. We're like this deputized police force for the big-G Good Guys. I never been in one a those before. Mostly because I generally ain't given the chance to get anywhere near a bunch a magic wands whetha they been abdupted by a evil cult or not. Apparently Osiris here has been seen about town thwartin the fell plots with a bunch of otha jerks, so they started trustin em with betta jobs. Only the otha jerks turned up M.I.A. so now he's got us.
He don't seem too interested in claimin the leader's hat tho. We don't got much in leaders really. At first I thought we was all united in our love of lithe, oiled-up gladiators. So I was lookin to our resident oiled-up gladiator and waitin for him to start barkin orders like a real army man. But nobody seems to wanna listen to the poor precious babe. But he don't seem to talk much either, more just stares. I'm used to that tho.
So I guess these folks is pretty malleable. And yet they got a lotta talent, so that's good news. Maybe I can give em a little harmless encouragement. Steer em to where the real money is. While the dragon's in anotha room.
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