As they followed her into the crowded outer layer of the ostrich racing balloon and weaved through the crowds, Biscuit Pisser and Krumbumbum turned to Broderica.
“Wow Shitface I didn’t know you had shit for a fart! Trying to throw us out like empty glasses of ale, eh? Well you can go cluck yourself!”
“Yea go cluck yourself.”
“Wow Krumbumbum think of an original thought ugh cock you wizards really are the worst.”
“You take that back.”
“No.”
Broderica stopped swigging her alcohol and spat on the floor. “Will you two shut the cluck up already?”
They stepped over to a thin, ornate door to a surprising corner (surprising because they were in a balloon—where had this hamned corner come from?). The lady swung the door open, then all four of them gasped.
AAAAAAHHH
Every inch of the small, dark hallway that the door opened up to was coated in purple frosting. It almost looked delicious; in a frightening way.
“Please excrete this mess, I will alert the cleaning staff immediately,” the woman warbled. She picked up a small glowing crystal that everyone knew was an old, now inexpensive precursor to the magickaphone. “Cleaning staff to room 432B.”
It was but a blink before a small closet doorway materialized on the left wall of the room and a crotchety old wizard with a slick grey ponytail and face tattoos denoting numerous gang memberships trudged out holding a large, crooked broom. He raised it high, then planted it in the middle of the frosting encrusted room.
“Alright cleaning staff, do your thing,” he grumbled.
The cleaning staff wiggled and jiggled and spun around like a top, and once it had lost momentum and fallen over all of the frosting was gone and the room was spotless.
“Thank you, Lenny,” replied the woman.
“Yer welcome, misirrah,” Lenny answered, turning around and walking through the doorway with the broom. The door then promptly disappeared.
They walked through the hallway to a doorway which opened up into a smaller, darker hallway. The end of this hallway opened up into a smaller, darker hallway, and the end of that hallway opened up into a humongous, bright hallway that opened up into a hallway that was quite similar to the first.
Just when everyone had thought they had had their fill of hallways, the doorway instead of opening into another hallway opened into the brilliant round room that was inner chamber.
The ceiling was painted in stained glass fashion with beautiful illustrations of the feathery chickens and their respective gods, swirling around a large golden egg within which was in fine calligraphy that all too familiar mysterious phrase ‘WHICHIUS CAMEIUS FIRSTIUS?’
The round glass walls, or wall, were unmolested, allowing as rumored a perfect 360 degree view of the ortich track, while also magnifying and sharpening the image to significantly improve the viewing experience.
In the center of the room was a large round bar lathered in gold and emerald. A small floating orb housing a small brown gremlin was bartending with telepathy. It was currently pouring glasses of champagne that surely cost an exorbiant amount as it was bottled out of what was clearly a humongous sapphire.
Sitting in a humongus velvet chez lounge behind the bar was a large, bloblike figure clad in a fine tweed suit. It was wearing a large golden chainmail hood that completely obscured its face, yet somehow allowed the thing to sip on a frighteningly large glass of whiskey.
“Ehwell ehwell ehhhwhhhelll. EhBleu ehLouie. Ehow ehnice to ehfinally ehmeet yew,” garbled the thing, setting down its glass on a hovering side table. It clapped its hands and the chez lounge floated over to face in front of the newcomers. “Ehnow ehwait a second. Ehwhich ehone of ehyou is ehBleu ehLouie? You’re all ehwomen!”
“Bleu Louie had himself turned into a woman by a wizard for…anonymity,” the woman replied.
“Ehwell ehwhich ehwoman is he?”
“He—ehrm—she is!” Krumbumbum, accidentally sending her dress straps tumbling once again for an awkward adjustment, pushed Broderica forward.
“Hey now watch it you spilled some of my alcohol!” growled Broderica.
“Ehwell I ehguess ehit ehwas an ehassumption of ehmine that ehBleu ehLouie was a ehman. Just ehgoes to ehshow you. Ehmay I ehask your ehpronouns?”
“Eh what now?” spat Broderica.
“You ehpronouns. I ehwas ehgiven a ehlovely ehbooklet full of ehthem by a nice ehyoung…eh…ehwell I ehforgot ehwhat they ehwere I’m ehsure I’d ehremember if I ehran ehin to ehthem ehthough.”
“Cluck that shit. Call me Shitface. What do you want?”
“Ehinteresting…ehvery ehinteresting…you are ehnothing ehlike I ehimagined you to ehbe, ehShitface…and ehyet you are eheverything I ehhoped ehfor,” the thing was clearly oggling her enormous boobs, which were slightly swaying, “Ehplease, ehhave ehsome of the ehfinest ehchampagne.”
“Thank you, sirrah,” Broderica nodded, taking the glass of champagne and raising it. “Cheers to…”
“Ehto ehyour ehhealth.”
“Yes. To that,” Broderica sighed, clinking glasses with the thing and pressing the champagne to her lips.
It barely touched her tongue before she bristled and chucked her glass at the floor.
SMAASSHSHSHHSHHH
“That was the nastiest shit I’ve ever had grace my lips, and that’s including literal shit! That’s clucking horrible! You paid for that? You should pay me for making me drink it you bass turd!”
Biscuit Pisser looked like she had almost pissed herself, and Krumbumbum just about fainted. They noticed the short woman who had led them there was nowhere to be seen.
“Ehhehehehehheh Ehehehe EHEHEHEHHHHHH. Ehyou ehamuse ehme.”
Broderica snorted. “Ehehehehehhhh. ehCock. ehWhy the ehclucking hen do you have to keep ehhehing so much I mean cluck what the ehhen is wrong with you?” Brodeica shook her breasts dissaprovingly, emphasizing the rock hard nipples and surprisingly large ariolas through her dress. Biscuit Pisser visibly pissed herself; it was running down her thighs and to her right heel. Lady Krumbumbum stumbled forward and the top of her dress fell clean off, revealing her small nipples and a symphony of dark moles.
“Ehhoo ehhoo ehhoooo!”
Broderica gawked. “What are you, a clucking owl or something?”
“Ehno! I ehwas ehjust ehappreciating the ehcompany you’ve ehbrought to ehme. Ehwhile I ehoriginally ethought ehthey ehwere the ehugliest ehhookers I’d ever ehseen, I ehnow ehsee their ehappeal.”
“We aren’t hookers!!” Biscuit Pisser screamed, thrashing around in an unintentionally sexual manner that made it rather look like she was showing her body off, namely her ass. She soon noticed this and froze. “That was not on purpose! Hamn this womanly body!”
“Ehwell ehthen. If ehyou are ehBleu ehLouie,” the thing pointed a gloved finger? at Broderica, “ehthen ehwho ehare you ehtwo?”
Lady Krumbumbum scrambled to cover herself, struggling hopelessly with her noodly straps, “I am Lady Krumbumbum.”
“And I am Xav—er—Biscui—er—Lady Biscuit Pisser! Baroness of Southeastwesterward Caldonia!”
Broderica and Krumbumbum looked at ‘the Baroness’ in disbelief and amusement.
“Ehvery ehwell. Ehthose ehsound ehlike ehhooker ehnames to ehme, ehbut ehwhatever ehmakes you ehhappy, ehBleu ehLouie. I ehhave ehnot ehshied ehaway ehfrom ehhiring ehladies ehof ehhalf ehpassed ehgas ehin ehmy ehmoments ehof ehweakness.”
Broderica was annoyed, then infuriated to catch her mind thinking about this strange ‘ehhh’ing thing frequenting a night club.
“What the cluck is wrong with you! You’re clucking disgrossting! I’m more nauseous now than in two decades of copious drinking! What power you yield, sirrah! I had found myself titillated—”
“I’ll say,” Krumbumbum mumbled, staring at Broderica’s heaving boobies.
“—absolutely titillated—”
“Is she just going to keep saying that?”
“—just, completely, fillingly, blisteringly titillated at the idea of watching these ostrich races. But you are such a vile, irreproachable louse of a creature that it is all I can do to keep myself from pelting you from every orifice of my body with varying detritous.”
“Ehouch. Ehbut ehstill, I ehsee your ehpoint.”
Broderica shook her head. He busty boobs bobbed in the opposite direction. “Okay what’s the clucking deal here? Why are you sucking up to me you strange blob creature?”
“EhBleu ehLouie you and I ehboth ehknow ehwhyy. EhPlease ehjust ehhelp ehme ehout.”
Broderica turned to Biscuit Pisser and Krumbumbum, both of which looked flushed and sweaty.
“I don’t give a cat’s cradle that you said please! Go to hen, motherclucker! And get someone to come in here and sweep all this glass before I sever a clucking arterie!”
While it was impossible to see what the head of the thing looked like, they all got the clear impression that it was terrified of this heavy chested woman.
“Ehyes ehyes ehof ehcourse ehmissirah ehof ehcourse,” then, the thing loudly ejaculated, “Pin pin!”
The small brown gremlin, still floating inside a glass orb, suddenly hopped to telekinetic attention. All of the glass shards shot into the air, dodging every person’s face like each shard was a hummingbird.
They twirled into a swurling flurry, and with a light poof settled into the shape of an ornate glass rose that slowly glided towards Broderica, attempting to molest itself into her right hand.
“What the cluck? Ew! No! Stop it!”
“Ehmy ehhhhpologiesss, ehmissehsirrehrrrahhhh.”
“Stop clucking rasping! I’ll have nightmares for weeks you clucking salami!”
The golden chainmail masked, tweed-clad monstrosity’s ‘head’ collapsed into its ‘hands’ and it began to…sob.
As they followed her into the crowded outer layer of the ostrich racing balloon and weaved through the crowds, Biscuit Pisser and Krumbumbum turned to Broderica.
“Wow Shitface I didn’t know you had shit for a fart! Trying to throw us out like empty glasses of ale, eh? Well you can go cluck yourself!”
“Yea go cluck yourself.”
“Wow Krumbumbum think of an original thought ugh cock you wizards really are the worst.”
“You take that back.”
“No.”
Broderica stopped swigging her alcohol and spat on the floor. “Will you two shut the cluck up already?”
They stepped over to a thin, ornate door to a surprising corner (surprising because they were in a balloon—where had this hamned corner come from?). The lady swung the door open, then all four of them gasped.
AAAAAAHHH
Every inch of the small, dark hallway that the door opened up to was coated in purple frosting. It almost looked delicious; in a frightening way.
“Please excrete this mess, I will alert the cleaning staff immediately,” the woman warbled. She picked up a small glowing crystal that everyone knew was an old, now inexpensive precursor to the magickaphone. “Cleaning staff to room 432B.”
It was but a blink before a small closet doorway materialized on the left wall of the room and a crotchety old wizard with a slick grey ponytail and face tattoos denoting numerous gang memberships trudged out holding a large, crooked broom. He raised it high, then planted it in the middle of the frosting encrusted room.
“Alright cleaning staff, do your thing,” he grumbled.
The cleaning staff wiggled and jiggled and spun around like a top, and once it had lost momentum and fallen over all of the frosting was gone and the room was spotless.
“Thank you, Lenny,” replied the woman.
“Yer welcome, misirrah,” Lenny answered, turning around and walking through the doorway with the broom. The door then promptly disappeared.
They walked through the hallway to a doorway which opened up into a smaller, darker hallway. The end of this hallway opened up into a smaller, darker hallway, and the end of that hallway opened up into a humongous, bright hallway that opened up into a hallway that was quite similar to the first.
Just when everyone had thought they had had their fill of hallways, the doorway instead of opening into another hallway opened into the brilliant round room that was inner chamber.
The ceiling was painted in stained glass fashion with beautiful illustrations of the feathery chickens and their respective gods, swirling around a large golden egg within which was in fine calligraphy that all too familiar mysterious phrase ‘WHICHIUS CAMEIUS FIRSTIUS?’
The round glass walls, or wall, were unmolested, allowing as rumored a perfect 360 degree view of the ortich track, while also magnifying and sharpening the image to significantly improve the viewing experience.
In the center of the room was a large round bar lathered in gold and emerald. A small floating orb housing a small brown gremlin was bartending with telepathy. It was currently pouring glasses of champagne that surely cost an exorbiant amount as it was bottled out of what was clearly a humongous sapphire.
Sitting in a humongus velvet chez lounge behind the bar was a large, bloblike figure clad in a fine tweed suit. It was wearing a large golden chainmail hood that completely obscured its face, yet somehow allowed the thing to sip on a frighteningly large glass of whiskey.
“Ehwell ehwell ehhhwhhhelll. EhBleu ehLouie. Ehow ehnice to ehfinally ehmeet yew,” garbled the thing, setting down its glass on a hovering side table. It clapped its hands and the chez lounge floated over to face in front of the newcomers. “Ehnow ehwait a second. Ehwhich ehone of ehyou is ehBleu ehLouie? You’re all ehwomen!”
“Bleu Louie had himself turned into a woman by a wizard for…anonymity,” the woman replied.
“Ehwell ehwhich ehwoman is he?”
“He—ehrm—she is!” Krumbumbum, accidentally sending her dress straps tumbling once again for an awkward adjustment, pushed Broderica forward.
“Hey now watch it you spilled some of my alcohol!” growled Broderica.
“Ehwell I ehguess ehit ehwas an ehassumption of ehmine that ehBleu ehLouie was a ehman. Just ehgoes to ehshow you. Ehmay I ehask your ehpronouns?”
“Eh what now?” spat Broderica.
“You ehpronouns. I ehwas ehgiven a ehlovely ehbooklet full of ehthem by a nice ehyoung…eh…ehwell I ehforgot ehwhat they ehwere I’m ehsure I’d ehremember if I ehran ehin to ehthem ehthough.”
“Cluck that shit. Call me Shitface. What do you want?”
“Ehinteresting…ehvery ehinteresting…you are ehnothing ehlike I ehimagined you to ehbe, ehShitface…and ehyet you are eheverything I ehhoped ehfor,” the thing was clearly oggling her enormous boobs, which were slightly swaying, “Ehplease, ehhave ehsome of the ehfinest ehchampagne.”
“Thank you, sirrah,” Broderica nodded, taking the glass of champagne and raising it. “Cheers to…”
“Ehto ehyour ehhealth.”
“Yes. To that,” Broderica sighed, clinking glasses with the thing and pressing the champagne to her lips.
It barely touched her tongue before she bristled and chucked her glass at the floor.
SMAASSHSHSHHSHHH
“That was the nastiest shit I’ve ever had grace my lips, and that’s including literal shit! That’s clucking horrible! You paid for that? You should pay me for making me drink it you bass turd!”
Biscuit Pisser looked like she had almost pissed herself, and Krumbumbum just about fainted. They noticed the short woman who had led them there was nowhere to be seen.
“Ehhehehehehheh Ehehehe EHEHEHEHHHHHH. Ehyou ehamuse ehme.”
Broderica snorted. “Ehehehehehhhh. ehCock. ehWhy the ehclucking hen do you have to keep ehhehing so much I mean cluck what the ehhen is wrong with you?” Brodeica shook her breasts dissaprovingly, emphasizing the rock hard nipples and surprisingly large ariolas through her dress. Biscuit Pisser visibly pissed herself; it was running down her thighs and to her right heel. Lady Krumbumbum stumbled forward and the top of her dress fell clean off, revealing her small nipples and a symphony of dark moles.
“Ehhoo ehhoo ehhoooo!”
Broderica gawked. “What are you, a clucking owl or something?”
“Ehno! I ehwas ehjust ehappreciating the ehcompany you’ve ehbrought to ehme. Ehwhile I ehoriginally ethought ehthey ehwere the ehugliest ehhookers I’d ever ehseen, I ehnow ehsee their ehappeal.”
“We aren’t hookers!!” Biscuit Pisser screamed, thrashing around in an unintentionally sexual manner that made it rather look like she was showing her body off, namely her ass. She soon noticed this and froze. “That was not on purpose! Hamn this womanly body!”
“Ehwell ehthen. If ehyou are ehBleu ehLouie,” the thing pointed a gloved finger? at Broderica, “ehthen ehwho ehare you ehtwo?”
Lady Krumbumbum scrambled to cover herself, struggling hopelessly with her noodly straps, “I am Lady Krumbumbum.”
“And I am Xav—er—Biscui—er—Lady Biscuit Pisser! Baroness of Southeastwesterward Caldonia!”
Broderica and Krumbumbum looked at ‘the Baroness’ in disbelief and amusement.
“Ehvery ehwell. Ehthose ehsound ehlike ehhooker ehnames to ehme, ehbut ehwhatever ehmakes you ehhappy, ehBleu ehLouie. I ehhave ehnot ehshied ehaway ehfrom ehhiring ehladies ehof ehhalf ehpassed ehgas ehin ehmy ehmoments ehof ehweakness.”
Broderica was annoyed, then infuriated to catch her mind thinking about this strange ‘ehhh’ing thing frequenting a night club.
“What the cluck is wrong with you! You’re clucking disgrossting! I’m more nauseous now than in two decades of copious drinking! What power you yield, sirrah! I had found myself titillated—”
“I’ll say,” Krumbumbum mumbled, staring at Broderica’s heaving boobies.
“—absolutely titillated—”
“Is she just going to keep saying that?”
“—just, completely, fillingly, blisteringly titillated at the idea of watching these ostrich races. But you are such a vile, irreproachable louse of a creature that it is all I can do to keep myself from pelting you from every orifice of my body with varying detritous.”
“Ehouch. Ehbut ehstill, I ehsee your ehpoint.”
Broderica shook her head. He busty boobs bobbed in the opposite direction. “Okay what’s the clucking deal here? Why are you sucking up to me you strange blob creature?”
“EhBleu ehLouie you and I ehboth ehknow ehwhyy. EhPlease ehjust ehhelp ehme ehout.”
Broderica turned to Biscuit Pisser and Krumbumbum, both of which looked flushed and sweaty.
“I don’t give a cat’s cradle that you said please! Go to hen, motherclucker! And get someone to come in here and sweep all this glass before I sever a clucking arterie!”
While it was impossible to see what the head of the thing looked like, they all got the clear impression that it was terrified of this heavy chested woman.
“Ehyes ehyes ehof ehcourse ehmissirah ehof ehcourse,” then, the thing loudly ejaculated, “Pin pin!”
The small brown gremlin, still floating inside a glass orb, suddenly hopped to telekinetic attention. All of the glass shards shot into the air, dodging every person’s face like each shard was a hummingbird.
They twirled into a swurling flurry, and with a light poof settled into the shape of an ornate glass rose that slowly glided towards Broderica, attempting to molest itself into her right hand.
“What the cluck? Ew! No! Stop it!”
“Ehmy ehhhhpologiesss, ehmissehsirrehrrrahhhh.”
“Stop clucking rasping! I’ll have nightmares for weeks you clucking salami!”
The golden chainmail masked, tweed-clad monstrosity’s ‘head’ collapsed into its ‘hands’ and it began to…sob.
