Xtreme Manly Man Force of Intense Badassery: Book One: The Fountain of Testoserone (27 page)

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Authors: Kell Inkston

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BOOK: Xtreme Manly Man Force of Intense Badassery: Book One: The Fountain of Testoserone
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“Actually, Mr. Graveman, I would very
much like to hear of your worries. If we are to trust one another
with our lives, it is only logical that we can be mature and
discuss emotional topics like these as well,” IMRM requests, trying
to unite the group as usual. UDGD groans, wipes his eyes, and
nods.

“Th’fuck you care? Not like we’re
friends or anythi--”

“Mr. Graveman, please,” IMRM says,
leaning in. UDGD is silent as he looks over the figures with him in
the room, and then sighs.

“Fine, alright. It all
started--”

“THE PARTY’S BACK, YA’ NEEEERDS!” Mr.
Honkers yells as he kicks open the doors to the dining hall,
accompanied by applause from all the servants present upon his
request. UDGD rolls his eyes, and gestures to IMRM for them to put
it off until later.

Mr. Honkers strikes a daring pose,
signaling his quickly-appointed “Honk Squad” to pick him up, twirl
him around, and the lay him in his seat with feather-like
delicateness.

“Swag,” he dictates as he makes a
shooing motion, sending the servants away to give the O.K. to the
cooks.

“Nice to see you’re up and about,” IMRM
says amidst a deep sigh from UDGD and concealed chuckles from DTO
and SISY. IMRM is glad to see the mood lightened, but he really
felt as though they were about to have a breakthrough in the group
dynamic.

“Yup, can’t keep the ol’honkster down
for long,” he says proudly as he is quickly handed a glass filled
with wine. He taps the glass with a small spoon from the laid out
silverware.

“Good to know,” DTO says with a smirk,
finding his shortest companion as laughable and contemptible as
usual.

“Yeah, so just so you guys know I had
to kill like a billion things while baby-bot here was changing his
tampons, so I needed a nap,” he says, supposedly justifying his
unconsciousness. SISY quickly shakes off the intensity of the
previous conversation, and displays his finest grin.

“Oh, you sure you didn’t just freak out
and faint?” SISY asks, getting a smile of approval from DTO. Mr.
Honkers draws back in shock and offence.

“Hu-Wha-Of course! It’s not like Robutt
can do anything without me or anything!” Mr. Honkers
retaliates.

“I’m sure he could manage, actually,”
DTO adds, sharing SISY’s love of Mr. Honker’s
discomfort.

“Yeah, he’s only saved your life five
times by now,” SISY says with a teasing grin.

Mr. Honker puffs his cheeks juvenily
and looks away.

“Stupid! So stupid, you idiots don’t
even know!” Mr. Honkers responds as he turns to the kitchen
doors.

“HEY! WE NEED FOOD NOW!” he yells in an
attempt to change the subject.

“YEAH! HE’S TOO EMBARASSED! GET THE
FOOD OUT HERE!” SISY yells himself, getting a laugh out of DTO.
UDGD’s silent as he watches the three of them banter about; he
finds it all really trivial. A group of alerted cooks rush out of
the kitchen with several dishes, half of them finished, with the
others only partially-cooked.

The group had a fairly lively meal as
the floating fortress traveled to IMRM’s specified coordinates,
their journey nearing its completion, but their legacies only
beginning.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: DROPPING
DOWN

The day passes and the next morning
rears its beefy arms in the sky. Mr. Honkers has gotten used to the
pampered life in the floating keep far more quickly than the
others, requiring that he be carried everywhere and all manual
tasks (with the exception of being awesome) are done for him. The
various servants are quite happy to accompany their new commander’s
strange requests, as the requests of the previous were far, far
more brutal. Time passes easily for the group, DTO, SISY, and IMRM
talking as usual, while the other two remain fairly unsocial to
uphold their cool exteriors. They have almost reached the
coordinates given by IMRM to the navigational crew, who have been
working hard to reach the destination as soon as
possible.

SISY wakes up in his provided room, one
of the officer’s beds. Of course, there is a commander’s helm-room,
but Mr. Honkers insisted that he should have it on grounds of him
being the leader of the group. SISY doesn’t quite mind, considering
he’s slept on a pile of swords before, and is quite happy with the
fluffy accommodations. IMRM was the one who got the worst deal out
of them all, as there are only four rooms for officers. SISY
wonders at times how IMRM has the capacity to put up with such
devious mistreatment, but again just writes it off as IMRM being a
total badass that doesn’t even give a single damn about sleeping.
SISY sits up off his bed, having enjoyed his two-hour mid-day nap,
and goes in search of food.

The Swordsman exits, wanders about, and
eventually stumbles his way into the servant’s kitchen. He his
instantly assailed by a mix of terrified gazes and looks of
admiration from the various servants, some more loyal to their old
leader than others. He yawns.

“Hey, friends, I’m sorta hungry,” he
says with a smile as he looks around for something edible. The
cooks quickly sit him down in the commander’s dining hall, the very
same from last night, and deliver to him dish after dish of
delicious delicacy, everything from blood-dragon’s heart to the
fried meat of the ravenous tooth-eater. He thanks them, waves them
off, and pushes down the food with a relaxed, though still very
manly, speed. He spots across from the room is UDGD, just sitting
there by himself with a cup of coffee, completely quiet. SISY
realizes that he has not spent very much time with his brothers in
arms in a quiet setting like this, most of the time they’re
fighting stuff and arguing. Seeing the mighty Grim Axeman sitting
alone in a private, common setting like this unpainted by the blood
of his foes is really quite sobering. He looks far less badass and
more along the lines of pathetic and lonely. SISY presumes last
night’s conversation likely had something to do about his demeanor
today.

“Hey, friend,” SISY says across the
table. UDGD shifts his cold, obsidian-colored eyes to
SISY.

“Yeah?” he asks simply.

“About last nigh-”

“No, forget about it. I was...” UDGD
takes a deep breath, and continues, “I was out of line. You’re
right, I guess. I shouldn’t have talked you down about your
religion. It’s okay,” he says. SISY’s eyes widen in shock. UDGD
just apologized!

“Oh, well thank you, but actually I
wanted to talk about your wife. It seemed like you got really, I
dunno, hurt when you brought her up,” SISY asks with a tone
surprisingly tame in comparison to his usual, violent blare of a
voice. UDGD rings the coffee around his cup a little in thought,
bitter expression intact.

“I guess you’re okay. Do ya’ really
wanna hear it?”

“We have time, sure,” SISY encourages.
UDGD nods.

“Alright. Well it all began when I was
about twenty four years old. I told you yesterday I ‘spose. I was a
blacksmith, an’ it w’s a day like mos’ other. I was just finishing
up the work for th’ day when this lady came by. She was... she got
me, if ya’ know what I mean. Everythin’ seemed jus’ a bit different
with her around- better, somehow. A year or two passed and I
finally asked’r t’ bind with me. She said yes, and for a
few-”

“Hey, scrubs,” Mr. Honkers interrupts
as he enters the room atop the hands of four maids much like he did
last night. “Set me down over there,” he points out to the
servants, who quickly comply to his wishes. UDGD sighs, and any
honesty in his eyes shrouds back into bitter silence and
discontent.

“Heya, Honkey,” SISY says with a
courteous grin. Mr. Honkers jolts from the shock of being called by
such a loathed nick-name.

“Shut up! Nerd! I told you that such a
title is reserved for the honorable people of my own kind!” he
snaps back with discontent. SISY’s grin only widens, quickly losing
track of UDGD’s who is now forced to sit in his seat and be
tormented by the pathetic stupidity of the Lord of the
Honk.

“Yeah, and like I said, friend, there’s
no labels on words. I can call you what I want. You do the same
thing, don’t you. Dweeb?” SISY states with a smile. Mr. Honkers
jolts back even further in offence, having had his personal
vocabulary brought into question. Unthinkable!

“How dare you! This is the treatment I
get from someone I could kill a million times over?! Do you not
understand that-”

“So where’s that little device you’re
always carrying around?” SISY asks, changing the subject. Mr.
Honkers squints with suspicion under his goggles.

“Peh, I have it right here, of
course!”

“Did you find out how to use it yet, or
is that attention span of yours just too short?” SISY says with a
sly smirk, ensuing a vicious squeal from Honks.

“Oh!? How about you, friend?!” he snaps
back under the impression that it’s a good comeback. SISY shrugs
and looks over to UDGD who also shrugs.

“Yeah what’s the problem with that,
friend?” he asks. Mr. Honkers grinds his tiny teeth in the
uphorrous rage of realization that there is simply no way that SISY
will take him seriously.

“Pfffft! Pfffffffffft! You don’t even
know,” Honks says with a strong crossing of the arms as several
plates of pancakes are served up to him. SISY chuckles.

“Maybe I don’t. But you should try and
realize if you don’t ‘even know’ either,” SISY replies with a
modest proposal, rather beginning to like this silly man. Mr.
Honkers huffs.

“Don’t you have some blood to freak out
at?”

“Don’t you have some device to not know
how to use?”

The two of them are very
quiet.

“Yeah, whatever,” Honks says as he
picks up his fork and begins swallowing whole pancakes one after
the next. SISY sighs, wishing Mr. Honkers wouldn’t suddenly avoid
topics when he loses his hand. SISY turns to UDGD.

“Alright, carry on, friend,” SISY
encourages to UDGD, putting sharp emphases on ‘friend’ to cause
another cringe from Honks. UDGD shakes his head.

“Later,” he says simply, putting it off
again. SISY nods.

“Alright,” he agrees as he returns to
his food. It seems as though UDGD is approachable on a social level
only to some degree; he’s pretty reserved around everyone, SISY
decides. A few minutes pass of the three simply enjoying
themselves, two to their feasts and one to his beverage, then a
servant steps in.

“Pardon me. We’ve about reached your
destination,” he says as he bows politely. The group looks at one
another.

“How far is ‘about’?” Mr. Honkers
mumbles with a mouth full of syrupy pancake.

“I don’t know, the navigator said that
all of you should consider meeting with him,” he responds. The
three exchange glances.

“Could you lead us there?” SISY asks as
he gets up from his meal.

“Absolutely,” the servant again replies
with grace. UDGD raises with his cup in hand to come along,
figuring he might as well not make problems. Mr. Honkers grumbles,
ponders a moment, and sighs.

“Alright, I’ll change your diapers,” he
says, pushing aside his half-eaten plate of food and throwing up
his short arms in stress.

The group of three follows the butler,
and is led through several halls and corridors to a large
room.

Unlike the rest of the shining keep,
this room has a subdued light and color, catering to whoever might
be spending a long night setting out coordinates. The outside of
the circular room is thickly-accommodated with tables holding
charts, graphs, and all sorts of accouterments and devices for the
sake of charting and navigation. The room smells of old paper and
dogwood, which is the material used in most of the tables. Quite a
comfy place for spending longer nights.

The servant leads the three up to the
center of the room, surrounding a circular table with what seems to
be a perfect map of their surrounding location, glowing with
obsessive accuracy. IMRM and DTO are already there, sharing a bit
of polite discussion about personal matters. At the other side of
the table is a smart-looking man sipping what looks like tea; what
a pansy.

“Sup guys?”

“Hey there.”

“Hello.”

“Dweebs,” four of them greet one
another. UDGD stays silent, finding his coffee far better company.
The slim, rather-dashing geek looks up from the map and his tea to
the others.

“Greetings!” he introduces in a
slightly-nasally voice. IMRM turns to the others.

“This man is Hokair Boneshear. He tells
me he is one of Smashland’s top engineers and strategists. He tells
me we are upon our destination.” the tallest in the room says with
a nod. UDGD finds it strange for such a scrawny man to have such a
manly name, but it is normal for the people of Smashland to always
give their kids sweet names.

“Nice to meet ya’! I’m Super Insane
Swordsman That Yells a lot!”

“Mr. Honkers, your boss.”

“... They call me Death,” the three of
them introduce. Hokair adjusts his glasses upon hearing the
introductions.

“Oh, of course! Yes sirs! I’m here to
help! Reason I called you all in here, commanders, is because we’ve
arrived at your destination, the ruins of the face-punching cult’s
ancient home fortress!” Hokair exclaims with an intellectual
interest.

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