Xtreme Manly Man Force of Intense Badassery: Book One: The Fountain of Testoserone (19 page)

“I am here to learn, I have very
specific and legitimate reasons for helping him achieve his goals,
regardless of how mundane they may seem to me, I am certain they
are of great significance,” IMRM says with complete honesty. DTO
laughs.

“Significance, really?”

“Do you find that funny?”

“Well, you can’t really blame me. Mr.
Honkers doesn’t exactly seem the guy to have significant
thoughts.”

“Perhaps not. I have no right to judge,
however, because I’ve never been him,” IMRM says as he makes the
final observations to the various magical and mechanical devices
required for the generator. DTO looks at the tall, mysterious man
strangely, and shrugs.

“To all their own, I guess.”

“Perhaps. Pardon me.”

“Yeah?”

“As you have asked me why I am here,
might I ask the same?”

“What, why I’m here?”

“Yes. I have reason to believe that you
do not actually know where the location of the ruins are that
contains our current goal,” IMRM accuses with a tone of complete
peace. DTO is quiet a moment, not showing fear.

“Heh, now why would you think that? I
obviously know the way.”

“Then, can you tell me the subspace
latitude?”

“Well, no.”

“Or the longitude?”

“Not really.”

“The geological features surrounding
the area?”

“... Sure, it’s uh, Jungle!”

“It’s flatland.”

“... Are you calling me a, uh, a
liar?!”

“I suppose I am.”

“And should I be lying. What
then?”

“Well, obviously I would then question
your motives for coming along. If you truly have feigned the
knowledge that lead to your recruitment, why are you here?” IMRM
asks. There is a small pause, filled with the repetitive whirring
of machinery and humming of magic.

“The, uh, key that you need to, you
know, get rid of the traps inside.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and I’ve had just about enough of
you and your petty accusations.”

“You showed it to us two days ago. It
was a necklace then, not a key.”

“W-... Well that’s because it...
changes form, the closer it gets to the fountain! Anyone who knows
anything about the ruins would know that!”

“So it’s in the shape of a key
now?”

“Well of course! Why else would I...
Shit.”

“May I see it?” IMRM asks simply,
extending his hand. DTO looks away a moment, gritting his teeth in
fear. He screwed up. Hesitantly, he removes the item from around
his neck, and places it in IMRM’s extended, armored palm. IMRM
takes one look at the jewel interworked into its metal fittings,
and then hands it back to DTO.

“This is not in the shape of
a-”

“I know I know.... I lied.”

“... I see, for what
purpose?”

“I wanted to get Graveman back for
screwing me over.”

“Oh, Mr. Death? What did he
do?”

“Cut me out of a paycheck that was
rightfully mine.”

“I see. So what precisely do you intend
to accomplish, accompanying us?”

“I was hoping I would get the
opportunity... well, the nerve, actually, to kill him.”

“You intend on murdering
UDGD?”

“... Yes.”

“I find that quite
objectionable.”

“Well... well fuck you, man. What are
you going to do about it?”

“Oh, well I suppose I would suggest to
you that you attempt simply forgiving him and-”

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I’m sick of being talked down to like
I’m some kind of worm. You’re not going to tell him.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, because I’m... I’m going kill
you right here!” DTO says, losing breath from excitement. IMRM does
not move, but simply continues to focus his gaze.

“You seem to have gained a surprising
amount of confidence.”

“Maybe. I don’t care. I know I could
kill all of you. You’re not even slightly good fighters. You may be
really tough, but you’re all... you’re all dumbasses!”

“... Is that so?” Hearing this, DTO,
breathing heavily, shakingly moves his grip to the hilt of his
rapier.

“Yeah, that’s so.”

“I think that this is a bad way to go
about this, I would not consider continuing along with-” IMRM is
interrupted with the sharp sound of DTO’s rapier being drawn from
its hilt, and the quiet whimper of a young man, preparing to commit
his first murder.

ENGAGE!

DTO thrusts forward at IMRM’s neck,
meeting into it and producing a satisfying denting sound. IMRM
pulls away quickly, and raises his guard.

“I must say, I find your capacity for
logical discourse amid emotional stress quite dissatisfying,” IMRM
says as he prepares for a quick fight.

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” DTO yells as he
rushes forward. Throwing a barrage of strikes forward, DTO is
surprised seeing the impressive dexterity of IMRM. He never really
paid attention to how fast he was during fights, considering he
himself was preoccupied. “Stay still, dammit!” DTO again exclaims
as he thrusts forward again and again, missing every time. DTO
pushes forward with all his might, until his sword is caught
between IMRM’s index finger and thumb. DTO tries his best to pull
the blade from the grip of the tall, black mystery, but is unable
to wrest his blade from his hand. A few seconds of struggling, and
DTO finally enters a neutral stance, keeping a tight grip on the
blade, but not resisting. “Please, I don’t want him to find out, if
he does he’ll ki-”

“Hey,” UDGD interrupts the moment
before he sends his axe into the back of IMRM’s head producing a
strong dent. DTO draws back in surprise; he didn’t even hear him
come downstairs!

“W-what are you doing here?!” DTO asks
with a look of terror. UDGD frowns.

“Heard a ruckus downstairs, n’ look, a
sissy fightin’ a tall asshole. Thought I’d chip in, seein’ you
could use some help,” UDGD explains. DTO’s eyes brighten, realizing
that UDGD is not only unaware of his intention, but also wants to
help.

“O-okay, let’s get him!” DTO exclaims
as the two turn to IMRM, getting back to his feet.

“Wait, Mr. Death. Why would-” IMRM is
interrupted by the joint strike of DTO and UDGD, one striking into
his face, and the other smashing his axe into his shoulder. That
strange, ceramic sound of IMRM taking damage again fills the
generator room, crushing his faceplate and damaging the chassis of
his plating. IMRM decides that a peaceful outcome is now quite
impossible. UDGD raises his axe once more to smash down into his
foe, but misses the strike as IMRM moves out of the way and gains
his feet in only half a second’s time. DTO leaps forward and UDGD
comes up from the side. IMRM takes one look at the two of them and
moves forward himself.

Leaping up with prodigious dexterity,
IMRM smashes his metallic foot topside into DTO’s rapier,
neutralizing the threat for only a second, and brings his other
foot around and meets it to UDGD’s neck before the axe hits him
again. UDGD flies to the side, gripping his neck in pain as he
recovers. IMRM then dodges DTO’s next strike, enters his personal
space, and grazes the correct point on his foe’s body. DTO coughs,
heaves, throws up the remainder of last night’s dinner, and falls
over. UDGD rushes forward and sends his axe right at IMRM’s neck.
The tall unknown grasps the axe mid-travel, extends his long arm at
UDGD, and does the same to him. UDGD is again, just like in the
swamp, met with the intense inner pain of having one’s digestive
system voided. He does his best to push out a swear word, but only
more bile comes up before he falls to his side, and loses
consciousness.

... *sigh* DEFEAT...

IMRM looks over the unconscious bodies
of his two companions, and wonders about their strange behavioral
patterns. It seems that, whenever they are accused of murder, they
instantly become hostile to the accuser – how very peculiar. That
aside, IMRM decides that things would be most troublesome should
all four be aware of these unpleasant, unnecessary nightly
activities, as morale would take a serious hit as a result. IMRM
takes a moment to think of a solution, and then gets to
work.

CHAPTER NINETEEN: BUCKLE UP, YA’
DWEEBS! (AKA: THE UNLICENCED DRIVING OF MAGICAL
FORTRESSES)

DTO opens his eyes and finds himself
laying in his bed. Coming to grips with the reality of what he is
pretty sure happened, he pulls off the covers and inspects his
body. Not a single mark and yet, he seems to be covered with...
some sort of blue powder. DTO thinks back, straining his mind to
recompose the course of events in his mind, but is unable to come
up with a reason why he is so dirty. Noting that he is already
dressed, he gets up from his bed, and decides to go out and meet
his fate.

Stepping right out of the door, DTO is
met with the same humming as before, but this time, can also smell
the distinct scent of melting cheese and eggs. He sighs, decides
that he might as well find out what is causing it, and goes
downstairs to the kitchen. Inside is all four of his companions,
three sitting at a large table, and IMRM preparing one last plate
of food.

“Ahh, good morning, Mr. Dick,” IMRM
greets with a bow of the head. “Would you like some breakfast? I’m
certain you’re quite exhausted after last night,” he adds as he
serves another plate of the breakfast he prepared. DTO stands in
confusion for a moment, until SISY, who has been stuffing his face
while sitting in one of the long table’s chairs, looks up with a
mouth filled with bacon and eggs.

“Mornin’, Dick,” SISY says with a smile
and a look of gratitude in his eyes. Hearing the greeting, the
other two at the table look up. UDGD, covered in the same blue
powder, looks as though he has just been beaten at a game twice
now, and Mr. Honkers looks as though he has just lost the
self-reliance Olympics.

“Peh, thanks, I guess.
Dweeb.”

“Mornin’,” the two of them greet. DTO
raises a brow; are they just not talking about it?

“Um, thanks for what, exactly?” DTO
says, taking the plate of food from IMRM. Mr. Honkers grumbles
under his breath, thinking DTO just wants to rub it in.

“Well, you and UDGD rather did save our
lives,” IMRM notes, turning off the magic stove and joining the
others at the table.

“We... we did what?” DTO asks. UDGD
gives a dirty look to DTO, telling him to just shut up and play
along.

“I see, perhaps you’re still recovering
from the explosion. Allow me to explain.”

“Ugh, again?” Mr. Honkers gripes,
hating it that someone else has the spotlight.

“Naw, he should hear it. It’s awesome!
I gotta’ say, Dick, I’m super impressed. You really are manly!”
SISY says, finding the thought of being around men as capable as he
is quite appealing. Mr. Honker sighs, rolls his eyes, and lowers
his face to his food. IMRM looks again to DTO, and begins his
second strange, and yet surprisingly effective lie.

“Now then, I was sleeping in my room of
choice, when I heard a sound coming downstairs in the generator
room. I had thought I had finished with calibrating the generator,
having found earlier that it had fallen into serious disrepair over
the past few decades, but this sound was louder than its usual
running noise. Naturally I went down to investigate, and I found
that the generator was actually sentient, and attempting to use its
magical trickery to destroy the tower.”

“YEAH! STUPID MAGICAL GENERATOR SISSY
BITCH!” SISY yells over IMRM, totally pumped up that the story
contains a theme of how much magic sucks. DTO squints a bit hearing
IMRM’s claim. It’s completely ridiculous, but it’s obviously enough
to fool Mr. Honkers and SISY, so it should suffice.

“Hmm, yes. Anyway: I told the generator
to stop casting its evil tower-destroying spell, but the tower
proved to be most unamiable and then accused me of entering sexual
intercourse with my mother. I would not allow the generator to kill
us, so I prepared my scythe and fought it in a battle. Regrettably,
the generator proved to be too much for me, and it smashed some of
my armor plates-”

“Yeah, friend. You might want to get
that looked at. Your armor looks pretty messed up,” SISY again
interjects, pointing at IMRM’s faceplate that looks like it was
smashed in with a giant axe guitar or something of similar weight.
IMRM bows his head.

“Thank you for your concern, however I
am quite unharmed. I will be able to get it repaired after we find
the fountain,” IMRM says, causing an interested look from Mr.
Honkers.

Mr. Honkers may not know much about
magic and sentient generators and the like, but he certainly does
know that IMRM is obviously damaged. The face plate is arguably the
most important physical asset of any A.C.E., so it’s strange that
IMRM is acting as though it is no big deal. The small man shrugs it
off, assuming that IMRM is simply stating that the damage is not
enough to seriously affect his fighting efficiency. What is
downright suspicious, however, is that IMRM said he was sleeping in
his room. Mr. Honkers knows well that something like that is
impossible for him.