Kinn was opening and closing his mouth in such a way that it resembled eating.

  “What are you eating?” said Daean.

  “I think it is called chicken,” replied Kinn.

  Daean looked quite confused. “Chicken does not exist here. It only exists outside of Bufford.”

  “Perhaps. But I do not believe that.”

  After an awkward silence, a weaselfolk walked up to the bar counter and spoke to Kinn, the barkeep. “Ey, Kinn my kin! Get me a beer!”

  Kinn sighed. His brother was quite the pain at times. But so is everyone to everyone, if you believe that everyone exists, which is quite unlikely in all actuality. Well, that is what the narrator supposes.

  After hearing these voices in his head, Kinn began to speak. “Sure, give me money.”

  Kinn’s brother, Hael, handed Daean a banknote as Kinn fixed the beer. The banknote blinked.

  “Hello,” said the demon in the banknote. “May I have a beer as well?”

  “Sure,” said Daean. “What kind?”

  There were many kinds of beer Kinn and Daean served at the tavern. One of their most popular choices was “The Royal.” It was named so because it is very strong and easily makes you make dumb decisions, like royalty. Another was “Pain in the Side.” This gave you heartburn, stomach ache, and occasionally death. This aside, the demon in the banknote ordered “Pain in the side.”

  “How should I give you beer?” asked Daean.

  “Oh, just fill a glass and stuff me in,” Replied the demon.

  Daean fixed the demon his drink. After stuffing the banknote inside, loud slurping noises ensue that are quite disgusting. But they were only disgusting if you find those disgusting noises disgusting. Daean did not find those noises disgusting.

  Daean had now taken pleasure in helping the demon wet itself. Not in the way a river would spring forth, but in the sense of when you jump into a vat of clear liquid.

  “I think you humans call it water,” the narrator said to the audience. “I also think that you think it weird that I be talking to you. I am sorry…. Oh, person sitting in a chair somewhere… You’re not dead, are you…

  Hello?”

  “Anyways after seeing the demon wet itself, Kinn thought it his turn to do so. “I need to let a river spring forth,” he said, then promptly went to the room of rest where you answer phone calls from nature… The Bowel Communing Room.

  The demon had finished inhaling the beer and needed help getting out of the beer glass. He said so, and Daean helped the demon get out of the glass. The demon was quite soggy.

  “What up with him?” asked the demon, referring to Kinn.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “He is quite a strange brother,” said Hael. “When he came out of our mother, he started to speak like he was twenty years old and majoring in physics. He said ‘Quantum theory suggests that whenever a person is birthed, twenty-six children chew their food with enough combined force to crush a chair.”

  “Oh… he is special… I guess..” said the demon. “Also,” the demon said, “call me Doug.”

  “Ok, Doug,” said Daean.

  Kinn returned from the Phonebooth of Nature. He described in detail to Doug how he has let a river spring forth and had named it the Euphrates… The next would be named Tigeress. Doug did not like crap jokes… or maybe he did…. Crap! I don’t know…

  “Daean,” Kinn said calmly. Calm being defined as a sense of deigust towards a friend because they have not taken a shower in 5 days. “Have you told Doug your name?”

  For the record, Daean had not taken a shower in 22 days… Instead he took garlic, paprika, basil, and onions and spicened his body from head to toe. It was tempting not to eat Daean… But it was also pretty deterring since he had not showered in 22 days.

  “Ok,” said Daean. “My name is Daean of the House of Meese corpses.” … Meese is the plural of Moose.

  “I am very sorry,” said Doug. “My mutter was named after a rat my grandpap had when he was young. The rat’s name was Stinky. Stinky died a few months before my mutter was born… She was then named Stinky, after Stinky the now deceased mouse… Wanna see the corpse?”

  For the record, it was the mouse corpse, not a mom corpse.

  The banknote was blank for a bit as Doug rummaged through his belongings for the corpse. It was quite a spacious banknote he had…

  As Doug did this, the beer glass Hael was holding started to speak. “I wanna be filled with wine! Not beer!” it said

  Hael threw the offending beer glass across the tavern, hitting an old lady in the face.

  “Thank you!” she yelled, thinking a knight in shining armor had come and kissed her. But it was a beer glass. minutes later her Husband, Herold, returned. OhHere here ,he is he is ugly… Everyone knows that anyone in a story named Harold is a bad guy. Harold is an evil name…

  “Harold,” the old lady said, “Why must you come back from the Phonebooth of Nature? Why cant you fall in and never be seen again.”

  This is the way of marriage. Listen, kids, never marry a man named Harold… They are bad men.,

  Well this was quite the tangent. I am sorry for your loss for those of you Harold or are married to a Harold.

  Hael found it fun to throw things. Rarely did it accomplish anything, but it was fun. He never accomplished anything… nor did he plan to. He only planned to be a pain in the side… That was why the drink “Pain in the Side” was named after him. He was a pain in the side and sometimes talked and annoyed people so much that five minutes into his rambles, they died. This was either by a heart attack, knife, or window.

  This story accomplishes nothing.

  “Thank you for getting this far, you bunch of abominations,” said the narrator.

  “Do you think Poetry is scary?” asked Hael.

  “Can that wait?” asked Doug. “I have the corpse here.”

  Doug held up Stinky’s corpse. It was covered in maggots. The kind that live in Harold’s shoe. They were cute maggots, though.

  They were still quite disgusting, I might add, would you agree? Maggots are quite disgusting, but once in a while, there is a cute one… like my wife… She looked like a cute maggot, but a disgusting one. That's why I kept her in the dishwasher. But now she ain’t there no more… Where are you? I’m lonely…

  “Cool corpse!” said Hael. “But seriously, is poetry scary?”

  “Oh yes, quite it is,” said Kinn. “That is why we don’t have singing in this bar. We like bards until they open their mouths, then we run away.”

  “Really?” said Doug.

  “Yes.”

  Kinn continued jabbering on and on about how Poetry is horrifying and should not be required. Hael ‘whoo-hoo’ed and “YEAH-ed” throughout. Everyone stared at Kinn.

  SILENCE!!!

  The crowd cheered.

  Even the old lady with the Herold husband (her name was Vie) applauded. For once, she heard something good. Her husband was not that good. Perhaps he could be sold… or perhaps just left on the side of the road… or poisoned! Ohhh! That is always fun…

  But all of this is not important.

  …

  Buford was almost to the bank. And he was happy. The bank was on fire. Then he wasn’t happy. This greatly decreased Buford’s happiness to a wee-little amount, so little that you couldn’t do anything with it. This being, Bob cried as did Buford…

  WHAAAAAA!!!