Xtreme Manly Man Force of Intense Badassery: Book One: The Fountain of Testoserone (4 page)

UDGD glances to the side when IMRM
mentions a space gate.

“Yeah, you lead,” he says, too
embarrassed to admit that he has never been to a genuine dimension,
let alone another subspace realm other than this one. He feels that
it is peculiar, how he has lived thirty five years now, and he
still has never traveled much of anywhere, let alone an actual
dimension.

The three begin their trek to Liuil's
space gate, down at the beginning of the south road leading out of
the city. UDGD has rarely ever gone south, let alone the
southern-most part of the city. A matter of fact, he has never even
seen the space gate at the southern tip of the city, as it is quite
a big city, and most wealthy people don't enjoy the sight of
violent, manly, blood-splattered mercenaries running around their
sissy diaper quarter of the city. UDGD does not particularly care
about this, as he usually has no real need to go to this part of
the city; but he is surprised with how much it has
changed.

After walking down several dozen blocks
and entering the city's southern zone, UDGD sees some peculiar
people walking about the richest of Liuil's four quarters. They are
each outfitted in their own shiny, advanced-looking suits of armor,
complete with admittedly cool plate helmets. UDGD looks at them in
with an angry, but impressed expression. Their heads, their faces,
without concave or convex of any kind, are exactly like what he’s
seen of IMRM. The only difference with these people is that they
are of just about every shape and size, with very human-like
frames. The cloaked IMRM looks roughly in the shape of a human,
that UDGD presumes he is of some other humanoid race; perhaps he’s
an elf, one that isn't a sissy little baby wimp like most of
them.

Mr. Honkers and IMRM continue along as
if there is nothing wrong with a bunch of shining, faceless
soldiers of some group rushing around with the weird boardy, stick
things that they carry around on their backs. He would ask his two
companions who they are, why they're here, and why it seems that
everyone in the southern part of the city is afraid of them, but
UDGD is a man of pride, and it would be hurt if he were to lower
his badass levels for just a moment to learn something
new.

The group weaves through the wealthy
crowds for only a small moment until the city's space gate comes
into view, guarded astutely by more of these men and women (judging
by a few of the figures) dressed in their identical suits of armor.
In front of them is a long line of people, each waiting for their
turn to use the gate after having their use and intention of travel
recorded by one of the more important-looking soldiers standing
next to the gate. As expected, Mr. Honkers leads the others into
the line to wait, but has trouble waiting in line
himself.

“Ugh, who do these noobs think they
are?! Don't they realize how much more important I am than these
scrubs?” he complains with his squeal of a voice. UDGD doesn't
really care all that much about waiting in line, he doubts anyone
else has a map like his own, or a map reader than knows where it
is. Thinking on it, he can only imagine the power he would receive;
not even the #1 mercenary could stop him.

During the wait, IMRM proves to be far
more patient than his short accomplice, who began sighing as loudly
as he can every few seconds. The UDGD finds this quite manly and
approvable, and considers IMRM all the more badass for it. After
about five minutes in line their turn has come, in which they are
confronted by who UDGD presumes is a higher-ranking officer of the
armored people.

“Please present your identifications,”
the armored man asks. His voice is strange, as if the man was
breathing in while he was talking. UDGD has never heard the
feedback from a helmet-bound mic before, so obviously he would be a
bit confused by the sound of the static. Mr. Honkers eagerly hands
the man his identification and IMRM does the same. Once it becomes
UDGD's turn, it becomes apparent that he’ll have to deal with this.
The armored man looks over UDGD, and waits just a moment for him to
pull out his identification card. When UDGD takes nothing out, the
officer can take a fair guess about his situation.

“Pardon me, sir; have you been
registered with the O.E.L. yet?” the man asks. UDGD
frowns.

“No, and I don't think that's gonna' be
necessary,” UDGD says, attempting intimidation. Mr. Honkers laughs,
but the soldier does not seem all that amused, not that one could
see the expression of his face under his helmet, or
anything.

“Sir, it is perfectly necessary. The
Omniverse Expeditionary Librarium has jurisdiction over 70% of the
known Omniverse's space gate technology, and the Librarium must
keep track of who is going where and for how long. Registration
will only take a moment, and will cost you nothing,” the man says,
with a tone of perfect respect in his voice. UDGD stares down the
man a moment, not sure where on the face-plate he should be looking
at to presume eye-contact, and shrugs.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Excellent, please step aside to the
registration center,” the man says as he gestures over to a desk
near the space gate with a man in the same kind of armor as the
others, sitting patiently. UDGD nods, and walks over to the desk.
As he walks over to the registration service desk, the soldier at
the gate turns back to Mr. Honkers and IMRM.

“I'm sorry, but you're going to have to
wait for the other member of your party to finish registration, and
then you will be re-inserted towards the front of the line, as long
as both of you stay present,” the man says to the two. Mr. Honkers
sighs, as if waiting five minutes to travel between dimensions were
a huge pain, and crosses his arms hesitantly.

At the desk, UDGD looks down at the
registrar, who promptly addresses the new “imperialistic gain” of
the O.E.L. .

“Hello there. You wish to register with
the O.E.L., I presume?” the armor-bound, concealed man asks. UDGD
smirks.

“Do I have a choice?” he responds. The
man laughs as if UDGD were joking with him, and takes out a sheet
of paper.

“Alrighty then. I'm going to ask you a
series of questions which you must answer as truthfully as
possible. Are you ready to begin?” the man asks UDGD as he takes
out a pen. UDGD looks at the guy as if he had just came out of the
sissyness closet.

“Yeah, whatever,” he says with perfect
apathy to the non-manliness of the current situation. Answering
questions is totally unmanly- everyone knows.

“Excellent. Alrighty then. Technical
name?” UDGD sighs hearing the man ask this.

“Rick Durenor.”

“Preferred name?”

“... Death.” UDGD crosses his arms and
turns away with a snort of air from his nostrils. The officer
conceals a scoff under his breath before posing his next question,
making UDGD even angrier.

“Age?” The officer asks.

“Thirty Five,” UDGD says.

“Race?”

“Human.”

“Eye color?”

“Black.”

“Skin Color?”

“Black.”

“Please be more clear. We have strict
policies about this considering the O.E.L. has discovered more than
a thousand body-colors for sentient beings.”

“Uh, not darkness black. Sort of, ya’
know, coal black,” UDGD answers, embarrassed to be more specific.
The O.E.L. operative looks him over a little, and hums.

“I’ll just put you down as color
#5,032: Deep ashen seduction.”

“What the fu-”

“Sorry sir, I thought you had scanned
your skin-color before to find out the number and name,” the
officer explains as he fiddles his pen across UDGD’s entry form
with mechanical precision.

“What the hell is scanni-”

“Marital status?” The officer
cuts.

“... Divorced.”

“Height?”

“… Average?”

“Eh, no sir. I need your precise
height,” the man stops. UDGD is a bit set aback by the requirement,
as he has no idea how to know his exact height. The soldier behind
the desk smiles inside his helmet.

“Alrighty then. Please step over to the
ruler next to the desk, and after that you might as well step on
the scale pad while you're at it,” the man leads.

The next ten minutes are filled with
questions and measurements of real life-things until the registrar
has all that he needs to be able to identify UDGD in case he turns
out to be a terrorist to the Librarium. The man then uses a strange
machine to print out a card with UDGD's face on it, complete with
his very own I.D. number. The stoic warrior of skulls doesn't
really mind being labeled, because he’s sure even if they did use
his information against him, it would be in some stupid, sissy
way..

All things taken care of, UDGD returns
to his group, and the officer at the space gate proceeds to ask
them his own questions.

“Okay, looks like you're good to go as
far as I.D.'s go. What is your destination?” The man asks. After a
short pause from the three, IMRM decides to answer for the two, who
have apparently forgotten.

“Subspace realm zone number 7769892,
Crimson Kingdom space gate is our destination,” IMRM explains,
causing UDGD to raise a brow. Is this guy hiding a dictionary or
something?

The officer nods, and writes the
information down as an assistant configures the space gate to lead
to the requested location.

“Business?”

“Searching for a-”

“Sex-tourism,” Mr. Honkers interrupts
his tall companion. The official drops his pen and stumbles to
catch it.

“Terribly sorry about that... What is
your reason for going again?” the surprised man asks, making sure
that he heard the short, funny man correctly.

“You heard me, noob! We're going there
for sex-tourism!” Mr. Honkers claims. UDGD respects that Mr.
Honkers would want to keep their goal a secret, but the way he is
going about doing it is... not the way he would prefer. The officer
is quiet a moment and shrugs.

“Uh, okay then. Alright, and time of
stay?”

“One month,” Mr. Honkers again says
with little consideration. The man writes that down as well, and
looks up to the group.

“Okie-dokie. Looks like you're ready to
go. Just step into the gate there and enjoy your... trip. Rondi as
the highest,” the soldier says in a weak-sounding, unmanly voice
that UDGD thinks could do with a couple shots of
knife-whiskey.

“Thank you, Rondi as the
highest,”

“Thanks,”

“See ya’, no-faced nerd,” the three say
in their own respective manners. They finally enter the space gate,
traveling through a wound of the Omniverse to their
destination.

CHAPTER FIVE: WELCOME TO THE
WASTELAND! WE GOT FUN N' GAMES!

The trio consisting of two badass dudes
and one less-than-badass, exit the space gate in subspace zone
#7769892’s kingdom of manly barbarians, deadly dragons, and people
wearing much less than they should; The Crimson Kingdom, Crimland.
UDGD feels sickened to have jumped through space like this, but
keeps his manly cool for the sake of appearences. The three upon
exiting the gate are looked over by several O.E.L. guards, making
sure that all of them are registered and upstanding civilians. They
go past without difficulty and walk into the broad, blood-stained
streets of the Crimson Kingdom.

The kingdom, UDGD sees, is a seriously
manly place, and is totally worth caring about. Lining the streets
are awesome, busy people, most of them at least 50% drenched in the
blood of other people, instead of the usual 2% that UDGD is used to
seeing. Dragons fly through the sky, and people are fighting to the
death all around him. There are several weaklings scrambling about,
screaming at the top of their lungs to the degree that UDGD can see
inside of their gross weakling nostrils. It is a most wholesome,
manly sight. Upon further observance, it seems that everyone along
the streets have special-looking armbands, of the colors either
sanguine red or darkest black, and the people who are fighting in
the streets seem to only be engaging other people with
differing-colored bands. UDGD almost smiles at the glorious sight,
but guesses that smiling probably wouldn't be a very good idea
here.

“The location on the map should be
towards the east. Are you both ready for a long walk? It will
likely take us a few days,” IMRM states as he points softly in the
eastern direction.

“Yeah,” UDGD says, ready to start
killing things.

“Eheh, of course not, you noob-star. I
skipped breakfast just to get here on time!” Mr. Honkers says along
with cool crossing of the arms. UDGD frowns intensely.

“You were already late, and ‘sides,
it's lunch now,” the blackened Axeman grunts, scanning the crowds
with his direct, manly gaze. Mr. Honkers chuckles
obnoxiously.

“Well, Mr. Literal, let's get lunch
then!” the short one says to the broad one as he points to a nearby
tavern. UDGD sighs and nods.

“Fine,” UDGD responds, rolling his eyes
with so much bone-cracking strength, that one would almost believe
he could kill a person with his pupils.