I have no idea how I crossed the interdimensional bleed (probably had something to do with that gigantimous dose of magic mushrooms), but come hell or high water, I’m gonna use this opportunity to make some money. My payment for MyFriendsHotMom dot com is several months late, and despite the site’s graciousness in maintaining my access (no one has shown more loyalty to MyFriendsHotMom dot com than me), they’ve sent increasingly aggressive emails saying I need to pay up. Now that I’m inside the Lonely Mountain, I’ll grab a few duckets off Smaug’s horde, return to Earth, and get back to jacking my prothagonous wiener.
Heel, then toe. Heel, then toe. Nice—Smaug is asleep. It’s just like I pictured in my mind’s eye: big-ass dragon snoozing on gold, jewels, and mithril. Not really sure why you would need an invisibility ring…I got this shit down. It’s just heel, then toe. Heel, then toe. Heel, then—
Suddenly, my ass decides to make a contribution: BLAAAT!
Smaug snuffle-snorts awake. “WHO FUCKING DARES????”
GodDAMMIT! I thought my sphincter could hold off those burritos! Kent Wayne, you arrogant FOOL! Your barking spider has endangered your life!
His slit-eyed pupils laser in on me. “WELL, WELL, WELL…A SNEAK-THIEF FLESHLING, COME TO TAKE MY HARD-WON GOLD.”
“Uh…” I glance quickly around and bullshit with the first excuse that comes to mind. “What the fuck? This isn’t Olive Garden.” I follow up with nervous laughter. “Wish I could stay, but I’ve got a date with—”
His claw shoots out and wraps me up. “NOT SO FAST, LITTLE SPECK! SMAUG IS HUNGRY!”
Big-ass talons squeeze my body, drawing a pained HURKKK from my lips. Fuck—if I don’t act soon, he’s gonna pop my head off like an overpressured cork. So I reach in my pocket and open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
Somewhere behind me, I hear another set of feet crunching across treasure. A familiar voice accompanies the footsteps.
“Let the Man Whore go, Hobbit-dick.”
Holy shit! Martha fucking Stewart!
“IT’S OVER TWO FEET LONG!” he bellows. “HOW DARE YOU!?!”
“Yeah, but you’re at least sixty feet in length.” She stops before the dragon and crosses her arms. “If Shaq was packing a seven-inch penis, you think he’d get a big-cock pass? No, it’d have to be at least nine and a half plus, or no one would give him the time of day. Proportionately speaking, yours is giving off serious gerbil vibes.”
“YOU BITCH!” He unleashes a barrage of wyrm’s breath fire. Martha completely disappears in the smoke and flame.
Fuck, I guess this it. No one could surv—
“Try again, angry-inch.” Much to my astonishment, Martha is standing in the same exact spot, unfazed by the blast-furnace heat. “Roast me all you want. It won’t make your wiener grow any bigger.”
Smaug’s jaw drops open in shock. “WHAT THE…HOW…”
Martha gives a dark chuckle. “People forget I did time in prison. I spent my days and nights learning shiv-to-shiv combat, how to cook meth, and—icing on the cake—the Dark Arts of Yore. Your fiery breath is no match for my eldritch knowledge.”
“NOW HOLD ON A SECOND.” Concern flashes through his yellow-slit eyes. “WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS.” He gently lowers me onto the deck. “HOW ABOUT WE BOTH GO OUR SEPARATE WAYS AND CALL IT A—”
Before he can finish, Martha breaks into a sprint, yells out something that would make Cthulu shit himself, and bitch-slaps Smaug with a power-charged hand.
“OW! FUCK!!! NO, PLEASE, LET’S JUST—”
Martha keeps chanting, summoning magic-boosted armor that would make Prince Arthas turn green with envy. At the same time, she continues throwing her prison-trained hands, juking and bobbing as she beats the shit out of Smaug’s liver and face. Finally, she ends up behind him, resting a Mithril lance on his puckered butthole.
“Doubt you have PETA here.” A malicious smile. “No one’s gonna save your genocidal ass, either literally or figuratively.” She turns and locks eyes with me. “Go outside and wait by my giant eagle. Gonna ride your wiener like there’s no tomorrow.”
As I run out of the mountain, I hear Smaug begging. “NO, PLEASE, DON’T—NYAAAAAAAAAGGHHH!!!”
I get to live, AND I’ve got me a date with a Dark Arts milf! Kent Wayne wins again! HEH heh heh!
Need to be saved from a terribly endowed, cranky-ass dragon? Never fear! Buy my books, summon Martha, and ravage his asshole with Dwarf-crafted mithril!
Get A Door into Evermoor here: A Door into Evermoor. Get Kor’Thank here: Kor’Thank: Barbarian Valley Girl. 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 Vol.4 on Kindle here: Vol. 4 on Kindle Echo Omnibus here: Echo Omnibus Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here: Combined Edition Musings, Volume 1 is available here: Musings, Volume 1 Here’s the miscellaneous gear that I use to try and become an uber-human: Optimization!
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