Rumbl-o-Rama

Rumbl-o-Rama, Initial (I)

A collaborative work on behalf of MadGoblin, MintMan, Vinny D, Writer77, and folks of RE.

Hear ye, hear ye! The Grand Quest for the Legendary Cheese is Upon Thou All! Whom shall maketh the trek? Art thee brave enough? ... th? If it be so, seeketh the Dire Mire, lair of the Hairy Dairy Fairy, just beyond the Mount of Olive Gardens. But many other perils do lay 'twixt these threats. First of trials shall be the Fields of No Return, for, once there, you shalt not redeem thou purchased goods at the shoppe for returned coin!!!

"Dairy Product of Lore?" exclaimed the mean, green fiend. "'Tis quite the interest... I accepteth this queer adventure, mysterious booming voice! Hopefully, no one else shall attempteth to hinder me in this quest..."

Pfft, like that'll happen!

Enter a blue clad vagrant. His gaze shifts about the crowded tavern. He pushes his way past the filthy patrons to a slightly more deformed green figure perched on a stool, nursing away on a giant tankard. Standing for quite some time sending the little monster a poisonous stare but not detracting his attention from the fermented fount, the human... -ish finds a better way to detract his attention with a swift strike to his head.

"What do you think you're doing? Do you not have anything more important to be doing?" accused the blue one.

"... it's beer," replied the goblin. He searched hard for a retort, but eventually gave up this quest already to grow wealthy in a mug of his own.

"Holy carp! These things are huge."

"Tell me about it. Just look how many adventurers stopped in and haven't finished their drinks. Well, most of them are just passing out and drowning in their own mugs. Why do you think this thing is the Bar of No Return?"

"What? I thought it was the Fields of No Return?"

"Yeah, in which the Bar of No Return is located."

"Isn't the Bar of No Return located in the Pennsylvania... of No Return?"

"No, that's the Hershey Bar of No Return."

"Ah, yes..."

Just then they notice a man in green armor in the corner.

"Hmmm, don't you think we would have noticed some guy with green armor sitting in the corner?" The fiendish one says.

"Meh, drink your beer, it's a plot device idiot." Man-o-mint responded. He then approached them, and said:

"I hear you are looking for some giant candy bar or something."

"Close enough, you can help in the search for dairy of lore. But you don’t get any!" Gobbo exclaimed.

"Really? 'Cause I can make good stuff with cheese...."

"... Okay, but end this post before it stops being funny."

Aha, it is too late for that!

"I do not trust men of invisible boomingness!" Vincent D, the returned adventurer of funk and knight-in-training yelled in confusion. Vinny strikes the inexplicable booming voice with reckless abandon!

"Oh, well," declared the Ghobling. "'Tis time for me to secretly elude these hapless fools and obtain that delicious dairy product! That'll learn those jerks at the market for raising the price! I mean, five shillings? Not out off my wallet! ... pouch," he correct himself upon realizing the time frame.

"What do you mean 'secretly,' you ass?" The blue one slammed his tankard. "You just outwardly and loudly yelled all of that out! ... from atop the bar! ... directing your voice at us!"

"And let's not forget your visual aids," the Not-Knight of Funk added, pointing to the black board with stick figures of the two weeping while one with a pointy nose held a shapeless, radiant blob above his head, presumably the cheese, with women throwing themselves at him.

"Yeah, I guess 'twas a little much," Gobbo admitted, "and I don't know what I was thinking with these!" His words were in reference to pink and orange sock puppets of unclear origin.

"But those didn't have anything to do with your presentation there, green boy. You just periodically had them make out," the D corrected, "with you!"

"That's not true!" the fiend objected, pulling the socks from his face. The other two merely delivered a stare, along with the rest of the bar's occupants, including those drowned in draught (who returned from the dead for that sole purpose). Shaking off the weight of the eyes upon him, he menacingly thrust forward a finger. "Oh, yeah? Well-" and thusly kicked over a mug as distraction to his swift and bizarre exit, emitting a strange "whooping" noise repetitively.

And so the hideous fiend made his way from the Bar of No Return to the next task on the way to the milky prize, the Pits of Eternal Agony. However, not being that much of a moron, the freak took a not well known short cut through the-

"Hey! Shut it up, you booming voice!" Gobbo ordered. "You're gonna let everyone know how to follow me!"

No, you shut up! I'm the voice, here. Don't you think I know what I'm doing?

"Well, n-"

Exactly!

As though enough characters were not already introduced, a man in a dusty old robe enters. Having almost been run over by a drunken goblin of some sort, he quickly stumbles into a chair.

"Hmm..." says the man in the cloak. "I need to find some human shields, so for I can be casting the magic-ness. When I learn the magic-ness, that is." The man looks slowly around the room, in a manner that is more dramatic than necessary. "Perhaps I should be finding someone that is wearing armor, as that person would be making a good shield. Or perhaps I should stop speaking to myself in such an annoying manner...-ness."

"And maybe you should just shaddup!" snapped the blue one.

"Oh... I’m sorry," apologized the not-so-magic-user.

"Not you," equally repulsed the vagrant spoke. "I was speaking to... that peanut!" he clarified, dramatically pointing to the honey-roasted and lightly salted fiend on the floor. "You think you're the boss of me. Well, no one is the boss of me, save that one guy who is the boss of me... and probably all of his bosses.... and those dorky teens down at the fast food place... and woodchucks, with their hypnotic eyes, but I shall show them yet." His eyes narrowed as his rambling went on, now apparently speaking to no one at all -- exactly who was listening to him in the first place.

"Hmmm, I do not think I want a human shield that enemies will go out of their way to kill," the newcomer considered, "or that I would slay myself... slowly and painfully... with a spoon. Maybe there is someone better here. After all, I am in a bar, and you don't gets no betters than barfolk!" One man passed from his stool while another vomited on the floor holding the blue clad vagrant's peanut.

"Master, what have they done to you!" he wept, falling to his knees. "I take back all of those things I said! It was okay that you drove my car off a cliff, and I never thought you were that fat! Just don't die! The wombats cannot win like this!"

"I thought it was the woodchucks?" the greenish armored un-knight asked, for some strange reason actually paying attention.

"That is what they want you to think," he replied in ominous tone.

".... the wombats or the woodchucks?"

"Neither! It is the peanuts, those vile fiends!" screamed he, spinning up from the ground. In a flash, he produced Gungnir, the Mighty Spear, from his coat pocket. "You'll never take me back to the hatchery! Two fried Waldos never split lampshades over the valley for five hours!"

"Hey," introduced the not-so-knight, "I am not trying to kill inanimate objects right now."

"Sold!" the apprentice agreed. "Fortunate for you, my requirements for a human shi... er, body guard just became 'not that guy'." In similar fashion, both bolted from the bar leaving the madman raving among the drunken denizens and beer-bloated corpses.

"So, the peanut-woodchuck-wombat-Where's Waldo-scotch-tape-worm agents think they can escape me, do they?" ranted he. "... wait, they just did," he realized and quickly followed suit. Just then, a huge, shambling mass of lard uncharacteristically dashed in front of the door, blocking all hope of escape.

"Wate er minit, youse," spake the barkeep. "Al dem frends uv yers ar onn yer tabb, sah ya gotta payup b'fer ya goe."

"But kind barkeep, how can I leave when I am still sitting over there!" he dramatically pointed out once again, this time to a mop leaned against a stool, topped with a blue piece of construction paper most likely intended to have been cut into the shape of his hat, but more than obviously finished after halfway through as a horsy.

"Thou art a damned and accursed villain! But thou shan't ever best I! Thou shalt relinquish this foul hold or suffer gravely by the biting edge of my steel!" Tossing aside tattered rags, he fabricated a jagged claymore from a rusted scabbard.

"Sir, for the last time," the pimpled punk squeaked, "I can't refund your money. It's against our policy."

"And just why must that be?" The goblin placed the crooked blade against the clerk's twiggy neck.

"Well, for starters, nothing can be returned in the Fields of No Return," he explained in high pitch, "but, even if, no one would accept this back."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Well, it's a waffle," he said, "or it use to be. We can't take it back after you ate it." He added, "and digested it."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'll be speaking to your manager, puke-face!"

"That was hurtful," the adolescent sniffed, "but shouldn't you be going?" The fiend stared at him blankly. "You know, you were on some sort of quest and trying to get ahead of a group of other people after the same prize, but then you doubled back to the Fields of No Return to get some breakfast. Sounded to me like you were in an awful hurry to be stupid enough to go back just to grab a bite to eat, though."

"What the-" the green-skin stuttered. "How do you know all this?"

"You sorta babbled it out loud when you got drunk on maple syrup," he told, "which I still don't understand fully myself."

"Oh... well, then you should understand while its imperative that I get this transaction complete as swiftly as possible!"

"Sir, the last thing I want to do is take your sack of cra-"

"I'll take that," a deep, voice rang out as a gelatinous man-thing grabbed the sack and darted off back to the next near-by restaurant, Burger Berg.

"Wow," the clerk gasped. "For being so fat, that Bubba sure can run when he wants to." He turned back to his customer. "Are you still here?" The pointy one nodded. "You really should be going if you want to keep your lead, you know."

"Oh, what? Is the lot of them standing right behind me in line this very moment?" The dorky boy leaned to his side with an odd glare to see around Gobbo, who followed his gaze.

"Can I get blueberries on mine, Mr. Un-mage?" the green armored one begged.

"Never!" the wizardly one denied. "That would cost extra!" The blue vagrant popped out mysteriously from behind him yelling at just the cap of a syrup dispensing vessel, accusing it of stealing his gall bladder.

"Gar!" cried the Un-mage in utter disgust. "Stop calling me an un-mage! My Dastardly Wizard kit turned out to be faulty, and I can't return it for a new one until we escape this place!" In pouting rage, he blasted Vincent with a burst of magical energies.

The wizard became suddenly aware of the idiocy that was going on around him. The goblin was causing quite a bit of ruckus with the workers at the restaurant, and had begun screaming "My favorite color is pink!" at an unhealthy rate. Suddenly, thirty ninjas dropped from the ceiling, and D realized the true meaning of Christmas... assuming he's not Jewish.

"Damn you, semi-mage, with your semi-magical technique! Oh well, isn't it about time we get on our way with this dairy quest and what-not," the one-who-is-impatient-about-being-a-not-knight decided. To officially begin his quest, Vincent pulled a radiant mace from his side, brandishing it skyward. "There, now we have the Justice Morningstar at my disposal!"

"What does it do, jackass? I mean you can't just give it a cool name and expec-" but the mage-ish one was interrupted by mace falling on headage.

"Heh, heh, heh, can't just give it a cool name and expect whatnot. Anybody else got some questions??!!" the funk adventurer asked as he brandished the pointy object around with a mix of paranoia and anger out of lack of blueberries. "Nobody best be messin’ wit’ me berries." Sneaking over to the blueberry jar, they then finally leave.

"So... um.... how are the kids?" Ninja #1 asked his successor.

"Don't have them," the second replied.

"Oh... sorry. I thought you were Ninja #3," apologized he. "We really should wear name tags or badges or something."

"Ninja badges?" asked the fourth.

"Those do not sound to stealthy," whined number fifteen, who always was complaining; fortunately for him, the others could never tell.

"Yeah, they would need to be made from a very stealthy material that is, like, invisible or something," twenty-five, the smart one, said.

"Wait, didn't we have this conversation before," brought up eleven, "and aren't we wearing them right now?"

"I forgot mine at home," admitted nine, "my ninja home."

"I dropped mine in the toilet," told twenty-one, "my ninja toilet. I got it back, but... it gave off very hiding-unfriendly smell-lines... and smell."

"Weren't we, like, fighting people or something?" asked seventeen. They all looked about at each other, not knowing whom to place the blame on.

"Number Thirteen did it." Suddenly, the mass of ninjas began hacking away at one another, drawing sword and blood at and from every other there being entirely unable to discern which one was in fact Ninja #13 save for Thirteen himself, who instead just bore the wrath of the others.

Meanwhile... I interrupt this story just so that I can get more time in. Oh, just because I am an omnipresent voice means that I cannot be in every post! Boo-hoo-hoo! I have feelings too! And I would run away and cry if I had a body!

"We really gotta kill that voice," muttered the armored... guy.

"Worry about that after we get to the Mount of Olive Gardens," stayed the mage of sorts, studying an unfolded map borrowed from the goblin's thought carefully watched belongings. "According to this, there are two possible routes. We could take that short path to the Mount," he said, motioning an arm to the gardens already in clear view, "or we could go through the Man-Eating Cyclops Lair in the Pit of Thorns and Skin Irritation."

"Aw, are those our only choices?" complained the green non-goblin. "Are you sure you are reading that present-fangled device correctly? What is that little line?"

"That... is the short path."

"What about all those pointy things?"

"Those would be the Pit of Thorns."

"And that big, one-eyed guy?"

"You mean... the Cyclops? That would represent," he said, "the Cyclops."

"Yes, I seem to recall something about him being a Man-Eater."

"I did say that only ten lines- I mean, seconds ago."

"Well, he seems like a friendly bloke," decided the quasi-knight. "Let's go that-a-way."

"Are you mad? He eats Man... Men!" shouted the magic user.

"Yeah, but I am sure only other Mans. We should be fine."

"Well, according to this," the apprentice said, consulting his conveniently subscribed-to issue of Bridge & Lair Monthly, "the Cyclops demands a sacrifice of one Man for every party passing through."

"Great!" said D, while starting off down the dark, frightening trail. "I like my odds. Last time I checked, I was only one person." Grabbing him to a halt, the mage reiterated.

"Are you mad? ... der?" again he questioned. "There are only two of us! The only way you could have a worse chance of getting out alive is by traveling alone or smothering yourself in bacon grease, which I should remind that you were doing only moments ago."

"Well, can't we just find someone to throw at the Cyclops to eat?" the really non-magician asked.

"Yeah, preferably somebody stupid and unsuspecting," the blue clad vagrant added, appearing suddenly from no where. Both looked him over and smiled. "What are you smiling for? Are we going to have a party? I like parties!" Their grins turned dark and the situation became obvious for even he. "Uh-oh, I really hope that Cyclops chews well, 'cause I don't wanna break on through to the other side." He proceeded to feignly guarded himself in hopeful desperation.

Just then, something dropped in, screaming, from above, breaking its fall on the quasi-mage.

"Ouch. I guess that's why they told me that riding dragons was bad, especially when they roll over... good thing I tasted so foul he regurgitated me..." Looking around, the oddly clad man stands up, brushing off his leather armor and... fur? Grinning and helping up the person he nearly squashed, the odd-looking person begins to clean the dirt from his cat-like ears as he apologizes. "Sorry about that, friend, didn't mean to cause a ruckus."

"Well, it's a bit late for that!" replied the Aspiring Mage. Unaware of the non-knight behind him, the cat-man is thwacked upside the head and crumples down into a heap.

"Let's use this guy for our sacrifice! We don't know him at all, and maybe his fur will cause him to stick in the Cyclops throat and choke him! Then we'd get the Cyclops' treasure to add to whatever we find at the end of the quest," quoth the wannabe-knight.

"Well, that sounds far better than using me," the vagrant said, aiding the others in tying up the sacrifice. "But now we have to lug him all the way there."

Maniacal laughter filled the air as the twisted freak stepped past the hustling lot of men.

"Thou art witless fools," he mocked, "that Cyclops be a man-eating brute! Man-eating!" The trio of humans' eyes glossed over. "What type of man dost he looketh like? Or dost I, for that matter. Didst thou not heed his words on dragon perils? We non-humans bear a bitter, wretched taste that the flesh of man is lacking of. Humanity taste supple and sweet, like candy picked off the vine!"

"Vine? Candy doesn't grow on vines," the blue one protested. "It's mined!"

"Not the point," the goblin silenced quickly to bring a quick end to either his own or the blue guy's idiocy, no one could tell, not even the speaker. "All that does matter is me and this fuzzy dude have an easy ticket through! Let's roll, hairy! Gobbo Ray!" Focusing a stream of fiendish energies, the goblin unleashed it upon Cheetarius to free him from the bondage. The felinoid sprang from his captures, a bit more singed than previously. "Whoops, I really have to work on that," he confessed. "None the matter, we're off! ... for some reason!" Grabbing the furry arrival by the arm, he dashed off with the cat man groaning in train.

"Wait, I'm confused," the magic trainee questioned. "Wasn't he the one with the map of the short cut around the Cyclops in the first place?"

"Probably!" yelled the goblin in his ear, popping up from seemingly no where.

"Didn't you just run away into the distance?" a confused everyone asked.

"Yes!" he agreed before taking bounding strides off yet again.

The vagrant, the "knight," and the mage were now planning on a way to get past the Cyclops, with both of their sacrifices having run away.

"I think we should offer it its favorite food: a giant Ruby," said the green humanoid.

"..." The Mage stopped for a few seconds. "The ruby can only be found in a mine on the Mount Olive, where we're going to in the first place. We would have to find another way to get across first, and then we'd have to come back and give it to him. And plus, this isn't Final Fantasy, it doesn't always work like that." The Green One pulled out the mace.

"Uh," started the Mage. "Maybe we could take a vote."

Two Hours Later...

"For the last time," roared the Cyclops, "you're not allowed to steal money from the bank!

"Bank?" said the Minty Man. "I don't recall stealing money from a bank, unless you're referring to this plastic tray with paper money in it." The Cyclops looked at the other two players.

"I thought you said he knew how to play Monopoly?"

"No, we didn't," started the Mage.

"We told you he was an idiot," finished the "Knight."

"You're playing monopoly?!" cried the goblin, who had gotten lonely and came back. "I thought you were playing battleship?"

"We were," said the Cyclops, "but the blinking lights kept scaring the cat-thing."

Suddenly, all of the idiots realized they were on a quest, and began to move on.

"Hey, you can't make us move, you dumb-face!" yelled the Vagrant.

Shut up, or I shall strike you down with lightning... and brimstone.

Once realizing that they were on a quest, and not a game of monopoly, or battleship, the ogre roared in rage.

"Wait..." said the half-mage, "wasn't he a Cyclops??!!"

"Why!!!!" the ogre cried, "why do people assume! I am an ogre, and that goblin thing poked my eye a few years ago!"

"Oh yeah," Gobbo said, "hehe, forgot about that."

"Well, maybe we should deal with his enragement," the pseudo-knight said. "How about we... um, plant this ruby I found..." With childlike hope, he suspected it would flourish into a ruby tree. "There, that should satisfy him, and get us out of this damn skin irritation zone..." the funkish one declared.

"Chafing is fun!" The goblin exclaimed. The half mage blinked twice.

"Wasn't there just a drunken Australian here a while ago?"

"Nay," sayeth the goblin. "That was me. I snuck some more 'Maple Syrup' over here, and in my drunkenness formed an alter-ego."

"Speaking of drunkenness, what happened to the crayon- I mean monopoly set?" asked Mint, in utter questioning-ness.

Hey, uh, guys? The Ogre is going to kill you all if you don't do something. All of a sudden, over the horizon, a ninja appeared.

"Hello, friends," said the Ninja. "I have slayeth all of my foes, and I am here to aid you in whatever way that I can."

"Hey! It's the guy from the waffle place!" said the cat, who had not said anything for an unusually long time.

"Er," started the mage. "You weren't there. How did you know that?"

"I'm a cat. I have nine lives."

"..." The mage stared off into the distance, as if trying to comprehend the statement that he had thought he had heard. The ogre, now overly bored, picked up the ninja and chewed him into tiny pieces. Then he walked away.

"Well, we are finally out of there," he said to his now faithful companion. "It took quite a bit of time -- and a little blood -- but we made it out okay. I have got to say, although small in amount, we sure have accomplished a lot in our time together. No, let me be serious for a moment. Together, nothing can stop us!" The arcane one wandered up to the vagrant.

"Who are you talking to?" asked he in utter confusion. The blue one turned to reveal the stuffed lemming nestled in his arms.

"Watch out, Leonard!" screamed he. "They are after your white, fluffy brains!" In defense of his plush pal, he wildly struck the mage. Running madly through the pit, the strange man found refuge for himself and his friend in a cave -- a large, dark, moist, squishy, tooth-lined cave. "Heh, they must have been pretty stupid to think that I would let harm find you so easily..."

Back deep within the Pit of Thorns, the goblin and his new furry ally were still lost, never supposed to have been in this strange location in the first place.

"Are you sure you know where we are going?" complained the cat. "I think we have passed that tree before, like a hundred times."

"For the last time," the frustrated green one stated between grinding teeth, "we are in a forest, so we are going to pass lots of trees."

"I'm hungry," he replied, never seeming to lose pace with something new to complain about.

"We can eat once we reach the Mount of Olive Gardens."

"Do they have food there?" Gobbo almost instantly replied "Yes," but then thought for a moment.

"Matter of fact, let's break now." Gobbo took out a delicious human child that he had been saving for quite some time now. As everyone in REF knows, Goblins love to eat babies' cooking. They are able to made scrambled eggs and toast like nobody's business. What, were you expecting something else?

"Hey, where's mine?" again whined the Cheet.

"Oh, right, uh, what about this thing?" the green-skin said, pulling a grotesque, whitish orb from his belongings.

"Bleck!" the cat spat, on the verge of retching. "How long have you had that thing? It looks disgusting, and it looks like it is watching me... with its pupil."

"That's just your imagination." Suddenly, a great tremble shook through the forest: ripping the land, felling the thorned trees, and raining fire from above.

"Did you hear that?!"

"That's just your imagination," repeated Gobbo. Then, Gobbo with his cat-like senses, and Cheet, with his cat senses, listened closely to what they heard in the distance. A final explosion tore through the land, and not soon after, the blue-clad vagrant plummeted from the sky, covered in what seemed to be dish detergent and marshmallow circus peanuts.

"Okay... I got out of there," the newcomer said with unsteady breath and a gaze scanning side to side. "Let us vow, Leonard, never to speak of it again, as though we even wanted to remember what happened. The important thing is, nobody was hurt." Looking down just after those words passed his lips, he witnessed the mangled shamble that was the fall-breaking felinoid. "Nobody was hurt...." Stepping off from his unintended victim, he told the group "I was never here, okay? Especially if the pine cones ask." With that, he disappeared into the shrubbery, much to the contentment of the sane.

"Man, that guy sure does have some problem," the Gobbo pointed out uselessly. Looking around, he added, "Hey, where'd my baby go?"

A full cheeked Cheetarius responded, "Ah dun nuh," while the goblin's gaze upon him narrowed. "What?" he said, innocently.

"Okay, so I snagged some of your baby toast, but I was starving."

"Hm, my seventh sense of instant-toast-breath-detection indicates that you aren't lying."

"Seventh? What's your sixth?" asked the cat-thing.

"Blickity-blork." The inquirer stared blankly, as was all too common on this quest. "Yeah, I don't even know what it exactly is. Back to the problem at hand, turning about for a dramatic close-up, the fiend furrowed his brow, asking, "So where is my baby at? ..."

Meanwhile, the Man-o-Mint paced along aimlessly, chewing upon what remained of a delectably tender meal, and found the somewhat wizard and somewhat knight caught upside-down in a tangle of brambles from the Pit of Thorns and Skin Irritation.

"Quickly, you blue fool!" ordered the magically inclined one, "help us!"

Said the blue, "What? You want me to cut you down?"

"No!" the combat inclined one corrected with annoyance. "We need skin moisturizer! Stat! Oh, I'm gonna be all flakey."

And so the three bargined for the cost of assistance. In exchange for the services needed, the trapped would have to dance around in tutus while the ordeal was videotaped and posted on the internet for all to laugh at.

"Hey," protested the hanging mage, "we never agreed to that! And never would!"

"And what's this 'internet' thing?" the D tagged on.

Just do it, you ants. It's funny stuff! Don't you want the Minty to- Hey, what in the- ???

"Oh, they were supposed to wear the pink tutu and dance," Mint Man came into realization. "Whoopsie, I was confused."

You stupid pawns! I'll teach you to disobey the mighty voice! Suddenly, the three wandering fools are teleported in a blink. *blink* But to where!?!? Meanwhile, Gobbo and his companion ascend from a pit in total exhaustion.

"Man, it sure it good to get out of there," the Ghobling wheezed, catching his breath. "I mean, between the Pit of Eternal Agony, the Pit of Thorns and Skin Irritation, the Pit of No Returnips, and the Pit of Death and Candy, I think I just about had it pits. Let's never go into the Pit of Pits again, Cheetarius." He took a good look at his traveling buddy. "Hey, you're not the Cheet!"

"Holy crap!" exclaimed a short, masked man in boxing gloves who popped out of nowhere.

"What th-" the green skin stuttered. "Who the hell are you? Or you? ... Why don't I know anyone?"

"Well, I'ma the guardian of the Gate of the Exit of the Pit of Pits of Exits," the weirdo introduced, "and that thing with you is a goat."

"So it is," he agreed, tearing off a leg to munch on. Amidst the yelling, he ordered, "Oh, shut up. You'll be fine, you stupid goat-" He swallowed his current bite. "Gate Guardian. Blegh," he reiterated. "Man, your flesh sure is tough." Standing amongst a wailing freak of nature and a now startled goat that now leapt about in fright, he pondered what ever became of the cat man...

"Oh, it could be my undoing," he told himself, "but it could also be the greatest thing I have ever known. How will I ever be able to choose? Curse this abysmal domain! I'm just gonna go for it!" Stretching out his hand with tightly closed eyes, it grabbed the object of choice. Motionless, he slowly released his strain and looked down at his furry palm. "Success! I have chosen correctly," Cheetarius celebrated. "The Pit of Death and Candy couldn't best me! I knew I'd be able to tell the difference between the two!" His words referenced the jagged walls of the pit lined with dripping, biting, venomous skulls or sparkling candy ore. With a bright flash, however, a shadow appeared overhead. Peering up, he saw the three other travelers he thought he had escaped...

"Oh no!" the goblin squealed.

"Wait, are you not here?" the felinoid asked. "Again?"

"Correct!" he answered and was, as said, not there anymore.

"... Gee, those guys sure are falling slowly," the cat man noted. "Ah, there they go!"

CRASH

The group of three slowly stood to their feet. Beaten, bruised, cut, and slightly decapitated, the cat quickly realized they probably weren't much of a threat. With newfound energy, the vagrant cried. "Candy!"

In an action powered entirely by persistence and stupidity, the blue one chomped down on a spike covered in venom.

The mage looked at the cat-creature, who he recognized. "Every time I see you," he said, "Someone is falling." The mage fell over after speaking.

"Eh, you wimp!" said the green one. "It was just a small drop, nothing to get excited about." The knight reached over and pulled out a candy cane from the wall.

"Be Careful!" yelled the vagrant. "I have reason to believe that cactus is poisonous! I also have reason to believe that an army of physics-defying giant ants is on their way to the Valley of Smiling Rodents!"

The Mage had a job to do, but his physical ailments were restricting him. "You..." started the mage, before he again fell over, "are..." He struggled to finish the necessary comment. "... an..." Once again he flinched. He was now operating on full adrenaline. "IDIOT!!!"

The sound reverberated through all of the pits, instantly killing several small plants, and miraculously vitalizing the wounded mage. "Wow, I feel much better," said he.

Suddenly, a package fell from above. It landed on the vagrant, who didn't notice it, but did start screaming "Mary had a little Lamb!" several times. A label on the package read "Dastardly Wizard Kit."

"It came! It came! It finally came!" Cried the Mage with great remorse- uh, I mean "glee." Like a little kid, or the vagrant, as it might be, on Christmas day, the mage ripped into the package. "Now, I can finally be a real mage! ... if I can use it right."

"Argh! Why must everyone around me be classes ahead of me! It is angry-making!"

In this fit of rage, the green clad adventurer looks...different...

"What do you mean different, Boomy?...wait...yes finally!!! I am ... a Rogue?? WTF is a rogue!!?? Hmmm, let me see this scroll of classes that mysteriously appeared on the wall! Ah! No knight?! Oh well, I will now be known as the "Rogue, soon-to-be-Paladin, actually-not-so-soon as-I-assume-it's-on the-opposite-end of-the-spectrum-of-classes, of-Funkadelic-Supremeness. Hmmm, that’s absurdly awkward so, um, just call me whatever it is I'm named."

"Are you finally done talking?" the blue vagrant questioned. "Because the rest of the people left a while ago, and I fell asleep when I hit myself in the head with a rock."

"Hmmm, well I think tha....."

But, just then, he ws interrupted by-

"Yeah, you just interrupted me"

What? No, not me. That!

A fit of maniacal laughter swept through the pit. The group looked all about for the source, the sounds echoing from the candied walls. Descending from the sky -- again -- came a great horned humanoid, orange of flesh and hollow of eye. An aura of stench surrounded the being.

"Foolish mortals!" his voice boomed.

"Who art ye?" the blue one questioned, reverting to an archaic speak for some reason.

"Foolish mortals! Know you not? I am the Spirit of the Legendary Wedge," it told. "The Cheeselemental!"

"Wait, I thought there was some sort of fairy of the cheese," inquired the D.

"Foolish mortals! The fairy is the guardian of the cheese!" it told. "I am the embodiment of it! And I am the one holding the princess captive!"

"Princess?" inquired the now-not-non-mage. "What princess?"

"Foolish mortals! Why... that one!" it said, pointing a stringy tendril at a glowing visage hovering overhead.

"Hey y'all," the audiovisual illusion announced. "I'm your average princess who's horny for anyone that will save me."

"Isn't that offensive to this web site's female patrons?" All presently blankly looked around and scratched the backs of their heads.

"Foolish mortals! ... anyway," interrupted the Cheeselemental, dispelling the vision, "you will never save your beloved princess!"

"Wanna bet, cheddar-breath?" threatened the blue fighter.

"Ched... what? Is that even an insult?" it inquired. "I mean, foolish mortals! I'm made of cheese. What else would anything about me smell li-"

"Quiet, you." Crouching to the ground, he used the Earth to empower himself with an actual element. The vagrant lept at the cheese being, brandishing his mighty spear and an Atlantic salmon which he had been carrying for quite some time but no one seemingly wished to address.

"Moolish fortals!" the cheddar guy jumblingly asserted, easily dodging the blow. "I shall now open a portal for no good reason and without any explanation to scatter you across the globe! ... or at least the immediate area," added he quickly under his breath.

"Watch out!" the wizened wizard admonished. "That's a cheese warp! It is just like your run-of-the-mill micro-localized worm hole, but made of cheese and pure evil, which has remarkably similar properties to cheese!"

The group of unlikely un-heroes stood there for several minutes. Finally, the Funk Rogue said something.

"Uh," he started, with great power and garlickiness, "isn't that thing supposed to, um, do something." The cheese hole was suspended in the air about 20 feet or so, not moving or anything.

"I'm on break!" a sudden voice said suddenly all of a sudden.

"So, are we supposed to just wait here until it gets off break?" asked the mage.

"Yes," said the cheesy element. "That would be very nice of you."

Three hours later...

"So anyhow," the Vagrant was saying. "It turned out that the Easter egg was actually a grenade, and my friend was exploded, instead of dancing." The group stared blankly forward, which was now almost a custom for them at this point.

"Okay... I'm ready," said the cheese hole. With a mighty, mightiful might, it warped them all to another location. The adventures could hear only a "zip" sound, and they were in a different place.

"Hey, I remember you," said the cat to the mage. They all looked around. Everyone was here. All of a sudden, an angry cheeselemental appeared.

"You stupid cheese hole! You teleported them all to the same place."

"Well... I can't always be perfect..." said the cheesey creature-thing.

"And you sent them to the princesses' tower!"

"...my mistake..."

"And you gave them each a bag of money!"

"...sorry..."

"A bag of my money!"

"...eh, I guess I messed up."

The mage stood in the corner, plotting evil plots. "With my new mage powers, I don't have to sit around and take this anymore." Working his wizardly ways, he fabricated a weapon of Mega-Death, not to be confused with the metal band.

"Hmm, new powers from the kit? Let's see them in action!" Snatching the enchantment, Vinny studied it. "Woot! Now I possess the power of a thingy!"

"Hey that was my mage attack.