by Robert Bevan
“Did you build all of this yourself?” asked Julian.
“Heavens no!” said Felix. “I have a partner. Alonzo. He’s inside polishing his rod.”
“Um…” said Dave. “If this is a bad time, we can –”
Felix waved his hand at Dave like he was trying to shake off a swarm of bees. “Don’t be ridiculous! He’d love to show it to you.” He slid the front door open. “Alonzooooo!”
Alonzo appeared from around a corner at the far end of the house, carrying a tray of coconut cups with little bamboo straws poking out of the tops. His curly, brown hair bounced on his shoulders in time with the spring in his step. He was rocking a 70’s porn star handlebar mustache and a robe made of peacock feathers. Neither of these adornments, however, could break Tim’s gaze away from yet another man’s crotch.
A tiger had died to inadequately conceal this elf’s genitals. The eyelids were sewn shut, but the mouth hung wide open. Tim couldn’t identify the pink, scaly animal that had given its life to be this guy’s dick sock. It hung out like the tongue of no tiger that ever lived.
“There you are!” said Alonzo, his mock tiger tongue swaying hypnotically from knee to knee as he advanced with his refreshments. “I was expecting you to come in the back door like you usually do.”
Felix wagged a finger at him. “It’s not as much fun when you’re expecting it.”
They smiled broadly at each other, then spoke simultaneously. “Too true!”
Dave backed up a step and leaned down to whisper to Tim. “Man, we need to get the fuck out of here before we get drugged, raped, and turned into fabulous home décor.”
“I was just boasting to them about your rod,” said Felix.
Alonzo rolled his eyes. “Oh stop!” Tim’s heart froze when Alonzo turned to face them. “Do you want to see it?”
Tim, Dave, Julian, and Cooper silently shook their heads.
“I’d love to!” said Gilda. She stepped into the house before Tim could try to stop her.
Alonzo addressed the rest of them. “Don’t be so bashful! Come on in and have a drink. I’m afraid all we’ve got to offer is coconut rum.”
Tim looked up at Dave and whispered. “What if you’re wrong about these guys? Coconut rum sounds really good right about now.”
“I’m telling you, man!” Dave was barely keeping to a whisper. “There’s nothing in those cups but semen and horse tranquilizers.”
Cooper sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”
“Haven’t you figured out by now,” said Tim, “that you’re always the answer to that question?”
“It smells like…” He sniffed again. “It smells like weed.” He pushed his way past their hosts, sniffing like a bloodhound as he walked down the hall.
Felix, Alonzo, and Gilda followed Cooper toward the rear of the house. Tim could feel Dave’s eyes on him, pleading with him not to follow, but Tim couldn’t see how they had much of a choice now. He stepped inside.
“Sweet mother of fuck!” said Cooper when he turned the corner. “You guys have got to come check this shit out.”
Tim hurried to see what could possibly get Cooper so excited. The room was sparsely furnished, with only a rough wooden chest on the left wall and some palm leaf mats in a semi-circular pattern on the floor. The main attraction, however, was the clay fireplace, in which sat a crude, stone crucible full of boiling liquid. Above the crucible was a dome made out of some tanned animal hide. And connected to the front of the dome was a ten foot long length of bamboo as wide around as Tim’s arm. The other end of the shaft was capped with a coconut shell, and rested in front of the center mat. The semi-circular pattern of the mats suggested that the shaft could pivot from side to side.
Tim was so impressed that he was unable to form a coherent exclamation. “Magna Carta!”
“Gindo herb grows wild on this island,” said Alonzo, placing one of the coconut cups in front of the nearest mat. “It’s one of our few luxuries.”
“Me first!” said Cooper, taking a step into the room.
“Stop right there!” said Felix, his voice uncharacteristically authoritative.
Everyone looked at Felix. Even Alonzo paused in his task of distributing coconut cups to gawk at his partner.
Felix’s harsh expression melted into a warm smile. “We are not brutes in this house. Is it not the custom where you come from to offer a lady the first opportunity to partake?” He gestured down to Gilda.
Tim and Cooper hung their heads, mumbled apologies, and stepped to the side.
“That’s okay, boys,” said Gilda, looking very pleased with Felix’s act of chivalry and making Tim feel like even more of a lowlife. “You have your fun. I don’t smoke.”
Felix looked quizzically down at her. “But just a few moments ago, when we were outside, you said you wanted to –”
“Oh shit!” said Dave. “When you said ‘smoke your pole’, you were talking about this?”
“But of course,” said Felix, looking thoroughly confused now. “What else would I have been talking about?”
Dave grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Forget it! Let’s smoke some pole!” He skirted past Cooper faster than he’d run from the T-rex.
Cooper, Julian, and Tim fell in line behind him, each taking a seat on one of the palm leaf mats.
Dave uncapped the end of the bamboo shaft, releasing a cloud of white smoke which ballooned around his head. The cloud shrunk as he took a long, deep inhalation.
“Careful!” said Felix. “Go easy on the first draw!”
Dave’s eyes glazed over with either inner peace or death as he fell over backward, armor and head clunking on the polished wooden floor.
“Hand it over, Dopey,” said Cooper. He took the bamboo tube away from Dave, who didn’t even seem to notice, and put it in front of his nose. He sniffed hard a few times, then frowned. “Dave smoked the whole goddamn thing!”
Tim crawled over and grabbed the pipe from Cooper. “Give me that, idiot.” He sat back down on his mat and re-capped the end. “You have to give it a chance to build up.” He sipped his rum. Exquisite. The sip turned into a gulp. When his coconut was nearly half empty, he decided enough time had passed, uncapped the pipe and inhaled.
The vapor was smooth. Tim felt immediately light headed, and the soles of his feet tingled. This was some good shit.
Passing the pipe to Julian, Tim caught sight of Alonzo smiling down at them as he rubbed an unfinished wooden scepter with a cloth. He giggled and nearly lost his balance as he tried to nudge Julian’s arm.
“Check it out. He’s polishing his rod.”
“Do you like it?” said Alonzo, holding up the rod for everyone to get a better view. “It’s to be my first enchantment. Magic is a persnickety force. You can’t just enchant any old stick. The magic won’t take unless the rod is of Masterwork quality.”
“I keep telling you guys,” said Julian. “You need to get your minds out of the gutter.” He uncapped the pipe and inhaled.
“Alonzo,” said Felix. “Grab my sack. I wish to smear my nut butter on the half-orc.”
Julian choked violently on the vapor.
Cooper sprang to his feet in a karate stance. “What the fuck, man?”
“Oh heavens!” said Felix. “Is there some kind of problem?”
“Just back away from the exit,” said Cooper. “Come on, guys. It’s time to go.”
“Speak not such folly!” said Alonzo. “You are injured, and your dwarf friend is not even awake. You are unfit for travel.”
“Oh, but I’m fit enough for your nut butter, am I? You two grab each other’s sacks and squirt your nut butter all over each other, but we’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“You can smear me with your nut butter,” said Gilda.
“My dear!” said Felix. “Are you injured?”
“Hey!” said Tim, trying to stand on wobbly legs. “You keep your nut butter away from – Wait a minute. What kind of question is that?”
Alo
nzo pulled a half coconut container out of a small leather pouch. Inside the coconut shell was a light brown cream. “The oil from the pukka pukka nut has medicinal properties that can help your friend’s wounds.”
“I’m sorry,” said Cooper, cautiously sitting back down on his mat. “I was confused. Probably the Gindo herb.”
Alonzo frowned. “But you’ve not smoked any yet.”
“Quit hogging the pole, long ears.” Cooper took the pipe from Julian, who was still red in the face from coughing.
“You guys are kind of remarkable,” said Tim. The Gindo herb was clouding his mind, making him say nice things. “You built this house. You planted a garden. You know about medicine and magic and shit. Are you guys some kind of geniuses?”
“Pft,” said Felix. “You’re too kind. Nothing of the sort. We were but a couple of humble servants in Cardinia.”
“That makes sense,” said Julian, swaying like it was a major feat of Dexterity to remain sitting upright.
“How’s that?” asked Tim.
“They came to this island as zero-level NPCs.”
“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you,” said Alonzo.
If Julian heard him, he made no acknowledgement of it. “If you’re lucky enough to survive your first few encounters with dinosaurs, you’re bound to level up pretty quickly, right? Their Skill Points for every gained level were allotted to skills that they needed to live here.”
Tim lay on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. “Far out.”
“I’m sorry,” said Gilda. “None of that made a shred of sense to me.”
Felix frowned. “Perhaps we’ve had enough Gindo weed for today.”
Tim sat up. “No!” He scurried over to take the pipe from Cooper. Capping the pipe, he sat on Dave’s belly and tried to think of something to keep them talking. “So how did you wind up here anyway?”
Felix sighed. “Our master was Boswell the Grand, a powerful wizard. We’d only served for two days when he banished us to this island.”
“What did he banish you for?”
“The gods only know,” said Alonzo.
“Maybe you said something that might have been misconstrued?” suggested Gilda.
“I don’t see how,” said Felix. “We are simple men. We speak not in riddles.”
“Master Boswell seemed in fine spirits just beforehand,” said Alonzo. “He had recently acquired us in a wager, along with Bindle the Bard and his famous miniature piano.”
“Stop,” said Tim, shaking his head. “Just stop.”
“Does our story displease you?” asked Alonzo.
“No,” said Tim. “I’ve just heard it before.”
Felix and Alonzo exchanged confused glances.
Alonzo refilled Tim’s coconut cup from a clay jar. “That seems highly unlikely.”
“You said something about his tiny pianist, didn’t you?”
Gilda choked on the rum she was gulping.
“It was all complimentary,” said Felix.
“I wondered aloud,” said Alonzo, “how hard such a gift must come.”
Gilda sprayed rum all over Felix’s bronze, oiled ass.
“Oh heavens!” said Felix. “Did you not like the rum?”
“I like it just fine,” said Gilda. She grabbed Felix by the hips. “In fact. Hold still and I clean that up.” She opened her mouth and lunged her face toward his ass.
“Yeeeee!” Felix squealed, tearing himself free from her grasp. “Not necessary, dear. We’ve got plenty. I’ll just run out and get some more.” He ran out of the room, then poked his head back in. “I may be a moment.”
“I never thought I’d say this, Alonzo,” said Cooper. “But your nut butter feels great.”
“Oh stop!”
“Seriously dude. I feel great.” Cooper lay on his back and closed his eyes. “I just want… to stretch out and…” As a tendril of drool made its way from his mouth to the floor, a long, low fart rumbled out of his ass like an outboard motor in neutral.
“Jesus Christ,” said Julian, swiping the pipe out of Tim’s hand.
“Hey man!” said Tim. “I haven’t taken my turn yet.”
Julian ignored him, uncapped the pipe, and surrounded his face with the only air in the room that could compete with Cooper’s fart. Tim had apparently been talking too long, as the cloud around Julian’s face was nearly as big as the one that had dropped Dave. Unsurprisingly, Julian went down like somebody punched the bottom of a Jenga stack.
“Ha!” said Tim, taking the pipe back from Julian’s unconscious body. “Stupid fucker.” He downed what was left in his coconut cup and hoped Felix would return soon with the next round.
“So!” said Gilda, speaking unabashedly directly to Alonzo’s tiger face crotch. “Do you guys ever miss anything from life in the big city?”
Alonzo frowned as he listlessly polished his rod. “We used to get more homesick, back when we had to fight off dinosaurs every day.” He spread his arms out, showcasing his surroundings. “But now that we’ve made all of this, we have everything that we need.” He looked down at the floor. “Almost.”
“Why didn’t you ever look for the portal?”
“Portal?
“Boswell didn’t tell you about the portal on the north beach?”
“Master Boswell didn’t say anything but a quick and angry incantation. Next thing we knew…”
“Who’s thirsty!” said Felix, prancing back into the room with a fresh clay pitcher. His mink fur appeared a little scruffier than Tim remembered it looking before. He stopped when he saw the three unconscious bodies on the floor. “Oh heavens, it seems the party is winding down.”
“Nonsense!” said Tim, holding up his cup.
Felix winked at him. “Ladies first.” He filled Gilda’s cup with coconut rum.
Alonzo looked up from his rod. “The lady was just saying something very interesting with regard to this island.”
“Is that right?” Felix started to fill Tim’s cup.
“She says there’s a magic portal back to civilization.”
Felix froze. The rum stopped flowing. Tim nudged the bottom up with his finger to get it going again.
Alonzo looked scrutinizingly at Felix. “She says it’s on the north beach.”
“Impossible,” said Felix. He turned to Gilda. “We know every inch of this island. There’s nothing on the north beach but ...” He pursed his lips and looked at Alonzo. "Terrence's cave?"
“Who the hell is Terrence?” asked Tim. “You mean to tell me there’s another one of you guys on this island?”
“Don’t be silly,” said Felix, pouring himself a cup of rum. “Terrence isn’t one of us.”
Tim’s mind tried to sort its way through a maze of booze and weed. Felix and Alonzo, for all of their eccentricities, seemed like a pretty welcoming couple of guys. Why wasn’t this Terrence guy here with them, unless…
“So is he like… a homophobe or something?”
“I beg your pardon?” said Terrence, a little more sternly than Tim was expecting.
“Terrence is the nickname we’ve given to a peculiar tyrannosaurus that lives on the north beach.”
“He lives there?” asked Gilda.
“That’s right,” said Felix.
“What do you mean he lives there?” asked Tim. “Like he’s got a hut and a margarita bar?”
“I know it sounds strange,” said Alonzo. “But he’s always there, day and night, in the same spot. He steadfastly refuses to move from the entrance to this cave. He won’t chase a hare. Our weapons have proven useless against him. He just stands there, staring out at the sea.”
Felix raised his eyebrows. "It's almost as if he's guarding something."
Tim gulped down the rum in his cup. “That’s some fucked up shit.” At least he thought it was some fucked up shit. He knew he couldn’t trust his mind in the state it was in. He looked at Gilda. She was starting to look all right, bordering on ‘good enough’. Abort! Abort! “We shall investi
gate in the morning.” He uncapped the end of the pipe and inhaled like he was about to get plunged into the sea. The world was beautiful. Then fuzzy. Then gone.
*
“Rise and shine!” an unwelcome voice penetrated through the warm, comfortable oblivion. “It’s a beautiful new day. Time to get up and have some breakfast.”
Consciousness returned slowly. Despite Tim’s best efforts to shut them out, the day’s realizations came to him in their standard procession.
He was still a halfling. Shit.
He was still stuck in this goddamn game. Shit.
He’d gotten high and passed out in the home of two – Tim sat bolt upright and opened his eyes wide.
He was fully clothed. Thank fuck.
Neither his jaw nor his asshole felt as though they’d been violated. Thank fuck.
Was he a terrible person for having worried about these things in the first place? Probably. Even still, he took a quick glance around to make sure his friends were all accounted for, and that Cooper was the only one covered in nut butter.
“What the hell happened last night?” asked Dave, rubbing his eyes. “I feel like I got punched in the face by a fist made out of rose petals.”
Tim shook the last of the sleep out of his head. “You hit the Gindo weed too hard. We all did.”
Cooper reached under his loincloth and scratched his balls. “Did I end up blowing anyone?”
“No.”
“Sweet. What’s for breakfast?”
“Oh heavens!” said Felix, his nose scrunched up and his eyes started to water as he made a beeline for the window on the other side of the room. He flung the shutters open, flooding the room with blinding morning light, but also with some welcome fresh air. “What’s that smell?”
Cooper rolled up the mat he’d fallen asleep on, presumably to hide the evidence of him having shit on it during the night. “This mat could probably stand a wash.”
“Ew!” said Felix. “Just get rid of it. I’ll make a new one.”
Cooper balled up the mat and chucked it at the open window. Catching the air, it opened up, hit the wall, and stuck there.
Felix gaped at the mat, his chin quivering.
“Shit,” said Cooper. “Sorry about that.”
Julian stifled a yawn and shook his head. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. Perhaps it’s time we part ways with our gracious hosts.”
