Rage Against the Juice 3: Vampires and Minotaurs, A Love Story
Posted by Universal Shift
Nord Juice? Find out what started it all in Part One
What’s up with the frog named Pappy? That’s crazy! Read that in Part Two.
Never mind the indignities visited upon him at the docks when he tried to hire a ship. Never mind the humiliations and dispersions on his character he suffered at the Carriage Express when he tried to secure passage over land. Never mind that ended up walking (walking!) over the craggy Muerto Mountains and to the costal town of Fileep. Never mind that he was beset upon by bandits, wild animals, orcs and the occasional berserker unicorn on his journey. Never mind that he conquered each and every one of these obstacles (adding to his swarm of zombie minions in the process) without flinching once in the face of overwhelming odds. None of these things were half as annoying to the Mighty Morass as the situation he found himself in since his arrival in Fileep and subsequent meeting with Raphael Esperanza (sigh) who, as it turns out, had been ensorcelled.
Where once was a dashing rogue, now stood an over-muscled, stinking minotaur. Oddly, his eyes burned red and he spoke with the lisp of someone who recently grew a new set of teeth.
“Are you a vampire too?” asked the Mighty Morass, consumed in complete fascination at the magical monstrosity sitting across from him.
“Yes,” sighed Raphael, “As if this disgusting bull-man body wasn’t bad enough. I was also cursed with Vampiretus Blood Suckulus.”
“Amazing,” murmured the wizard and leaned across the table for a closer look only to be batted away by Raphael.
“Head shots are ten coins. What is it you want?”
“Well, to be honest, I wished vengeance on you for Nord Juicing an entire population of unstable lunatics. But any vengeance I could’ve wished has been outdone. So now, I’d just like my barbarian Unstuck, if you don’t mind.”
“Ribbit,” croaked Pappy in reminder.
“Oh yeah. And I’d like you to autograph a head shot.”
“Unstick your barbarian AND an autographed head shot? “ said Esperanza and snorted. “That will cost you a princely sum.”
“The Mighty Morass does not pay for favors! People do his bidding out of fear!”
“Yeah. Maybe a century ago. But now you’re just another spindly old coot who talks to frogs.”
Anger churned in Morass’s gut and he felt his magic rising. So did Raphael.
“You better squelch that right now,” warned the bullish rogue. “Or I’m taking the head shot off the table.”
Morass swallowed his rage and belched a plume of smoke.
“Now, to business. It just so happens that the answer to both our problems lies in the same place.”
“Ribbit?” croaked Pappy hopefully
“I doubt he means Tampa. Now shut up!” Morass returned his attention to the vampire minotaur. “Please, continue. You were saying?”
“I was saying, I can’t Unstick the Stuck. I was supplied with a special concoction by the Sisters of Silent Sheltons. They placed this curse on me and only they can remove it.”
“You crossed the Shelton Sisters?” Morass couldn’t help but be a bit impressed. Not that that ragtag group of glorified nuns could’ve challenged his supreme power, but for a run-of-the-mill thief like Esperanza, it was a moderate accomplishment.
“Not them, per se, but one of their daughters. I…showed her the wonders on the opposite end of the spectrum from Chastity. Needless to say, here I am.”
“You bagged one of the Daugthers of the Dirgeful Daughtries?” Now Morass was impressed.
Despite his condition, Raphael’s bullman frame beamed with pride. “I did. And I did it again…and again…and one more time to round things out. It was that last round that did me in. We were discovered and I made a dash for the window, carrying my clothes in a bundle. Somehow I lost a sock which they used to curse me.”
“That old black magic,” said Morass dryly. “It’s so passé.”
“I don’t care what it looks like. Get the Infernal Contract the Sisters signed against me and I’ll give you what you ask.”
Morass thought long and hard. He wasn’t used to “making deals”. Deals always meant he was getting a shorter end of the stick than he wanted. And Morass hated short sticks. But the necromancer smelled something other than bullshit from Raphael. The cursed man reeked of desperation. And desperation was Morass’s favorite cologne. If he did reclaim the Infernal Contract for Raphael, he could swindle much more out of the thief than an Unstuck barbarian and a blurry head shot. Something like this could catapult him back into legendary status. Uttering his name could once again send waves of awe and terror through entire countries. Yes, this could all be worth it…
“I’ll do it.”
About Universal ShiftI am the Sonata Unusual. I coat myself with some obtuse angle too far below zero to become any warmer. I create motivation, activate schemas, moisten gardens with scents of natural honeydew. Construct this meaning, you sleepy flock. Silence your singing—despairing contortions out of tune. Shatter the brittle butterfly glass with your hideous wailing. I am born of my god’s imagination. When I die I shall meet him. For there are many things to discuss over tea…or scotch.
Posted on February 21, 2012, in Author, Fiction, writing and tagged Comedy, fantasy, frogs, humor, juice, minotaur, Nord, Rage, Raphael, Science fiction, Vampire, wizard. Bookmark the permalink. 8 Comments.