Tagged: booze

Fetch Quest

Flash Fiction Month 2016, Day 13

Challenge #6: Write a story involving a stranger and an ambiguous proposal, borrowing the first line from another author’s story written this month. As an optional bonus, incorporate one thing from the list of “2425 Things Mr. Welch Can No Longer Do During an RPG.”

The first line of this story is borrowed from squanpie‘s Summer Drinking, and it incorporates Thing #1111: “There is no such thing as a Magic Murder Bag of Holding.”

Sunshine, good music and a very long bar queue. This, Büzenpüken decided, was a strange sort of oppressed village. A strange sort of oppressed village indeed.

“It’s the dragon,” whispered a nearby peasant, the bags around his eyes black as the devil, and saggy as the devil’s devilish man-boobs. “The dreaded Party Dragon! He has made his home in Bierkan Mountain and demands that we honour his appearance with a thousand years of vigorous celebration!”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” said Büzenpüken, scratching his beard.

“It wasn’t at first!” The peasant dropped to his knees, clutching Büzenpüken’s barbarian bearskin briefs. “But that was ages ago! I haven’t slept in weeks! All I do is dance and uncontrollably guzzle cheap booze!”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” said Büzenpüken, again.

“It’s horrible!” cried the peasant. “And if we so much as complain about it…”

There was a roar from the cave at the foot of the mountain. A searing orb of flame arced across the sky.

“Uh-oh!” yelled the peasant, desperately zig-zagging away from the bar queue. “Uh-oh! Uh-oh!!!”

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