It’s been six months since I came through a magical portal into the Enchanted Booty Forest. I’ve been accepted into the Elven kingdom of Inelthi, and pledged allegiance to their Queen: Hylissia Arrenhold. One day, her Captain of the Guard saw me flexing in the mirror and thought I was engaged in some kind of mystical combat practice. (Truth be told, I was just about to start jerking off.) He sold me on the idea of becoming an Elven foot soldier, and I accepted. I really have no desire to serve in the military again, but dude—they get to swing giant fucking swords! I’m sure I can use my creativity to get out of cleaning the scrying pool or shoveling pegasus poop or whatever the hell goes hand-in-hand with being a fresh recruit.
That’s what I thought for about a week or so, then I realized I was in over my head. Elves have way more discipline than your average mortal. They don’t fart in public, they don’t pick their nose, and they certainly don’t jerk off. Kind of like the exact opposite of what I experienced in the human military. Right now I’m formed up with my fellow soldiers—Kordani’s Bladesinger Regiment—kitted up in enchanted armor and my thrice-blessed scimitar. We’re arrayed across a levitating platform that overlooks the Dreamer’s Glade, kneeling on our left knee with our right fists over our hearts, heads bowed.
We’ve been here for over an hour, and I am fucking SICK of it.
“Hey,” I hiss to the Bladesinger to my left, an Elf named Rellion. “When the fuck is Hylissia gonna make her speech? I have to take a shit.”
“Silence, Kent Wayne!” he hisses back. “ ’Tis a great honor to be summoned by the Queen! We will wait here for as long as she wishes!”
“Yeah well my asshole won’t,” I grumble, shifting back and forth. “I’m about to brown this armor, know w’um sayin’? Y’all are some racist fucks, expecting regular humans to have the same level of butthole control as you pointy-eared Magicals.”
“NOW who’s being racist?” Rellion fixes me with a burning stare. “You think you’re the only one who feels discomfort, Kent Wayne? I should teach you a lesson with the flat of my blade!”
“Eat a dick, you Orc-sucking—”
Rellion springs off his knee and spear-tackles me. We roll across the ground, snarling and cursing. He mounts my chest, but I buck my hips so I can pin the crook of his elbow with both hands while I hook his right ankle with my left. Then I bridge my hips so I can roll him over. Ha HA! Jiu-jitsu, bitch!
But even though he looks like a total beta-male, he’s got the strength of ten roided-out bros. He stiff-arms me in the chest and sends me flying ten feet back. FUCK!
I land on my butt and we both get up. We’re about to get back to scrappin’ when a querulous grumble erupts from my stomach.
Our eyes lock, and horror dawns on both our faces.
“This is a sacred place, Kent Wayne! You cannot unleash the unspeakable evil you store within your backside!”
“I know man! Oh FUCK!” I fall to my knees, clutching my belly, and curl into a fetal position. A cold sweat breaks out across my body, and my b-hole’s starts spasming and jumping like Charlie Sheen in a full-on meth rage.
Rellion cups a hand around his mouth. “We need a mage! If any of you value the sanctity of our kingdom, then—”
Mass chaos erupts among the Bladesingers. Almond-shaped eyes widen in undisguised panic as they search amongst themselves for any wizard who might be able to avert the oncoming apocalypse.
“Dost thou know any enchantments that might—”
“I’ve only practiced magic missile and cone of frost! Nothing that could prepare me for the likes of—”
“By the spell-crafted dagger of Shildani Oakensong! What in the seven hells are we going to DO? I’d rather face an army of Black Cloak Goblins than smell what’s about to come out of his—”
“Oh God,” I mutter through clenched teeth. “I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all that cheesy lembas!”
Only one option left. I open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
I’m instantly teleported back to Earth, into some lame-ass frat house’s disgusting bathroom. I yank down my pants and fix butt to toilet-seat. A second later I relax my sphincter, and I hear the trendy-ass music sounding from downstairs overtaken by a rising chorus of horrified screams.
“Oh dear sweet GOD—”
“The pipes are bursting! SOMEONE CALL 911!”
“We’re all fucked! Game over, man! GAME FUCKING OVER!”
“Just leave me bro—tell my mom I love her!”
HEH heh heh! Maybe Elves are some stuck-up fucks, but they don’t deserve the heinous damnation that pours from my anus.
Frat Bros? Now that’s a different story. 😉
Are you about to unleash Ragnarok from your poop chute and need an appropriate place to deposit your villainy? Never fear! Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here: Combined Edition I’ve started a podcast: Logical Idiots! If you want to check it out on YouTube, see it here: Logical Idiots on YouTube and help two complete morons out by subscribing, liking, and commenting! Here’s the iTunes page: Logical Idiots on iTunes. Also, my buddy Jumar Balacy has made a supercool microsite at kentwaynebrain.com! Go check out his computer-based wizardry 🙂 🙂 😀
Hold on! I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate! If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish. Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens! In this manner you can support my books, musings, podcast, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to! Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy! Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts! 😲💪 😜
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