The captain leaned over and grumbled to his goons, “Aye didn’t think Mister Magick was that old. Tarrlk arrgbout false arrrdvarrrtising. This betarrr be hood.”
The goons nodded soullessly.
“Welcome to my show. Also known as, erm, as Mister Magick’s Marvelous Mystery Menagerie. Prepare to, erm,” Krumbunculus pulled a shriveled note from his crotch, “Prepare to, er, to have your minds blown.”
“Wooooo! That’s not all we want blown!” gruffly shouted a crowd member.
“Now, erm, for my first, eh, for my first trick, I will, I, um, uh—”
As Krumbunculus stuttered over himself, dropping the note and wiping his soggy brow, the captain leaned over to Sir Broderick and whispered in his ear.
“This gaye is sarrrgposed to be the best illusionist warrrglock this sayde o’ the seventy skayes. Aye heard ‘e can conjure up to a hundred darrncing men at once!”
Sir Broderick actually started choking this time, so much so that the captain had to pat him on his back with his hook a few times to make sure all was well.
“Glad yer alright. Ye don’t wanna miss this, aye’m suarrre.”
“Oh, very right, sirrah. I don’t indeed.”
“Now, for my first, erm my first act of magick—that’s magick with a ‘k’ if anyone was wondering—”
“No one was!” blurted a far off audience member.
“Nice stilettos!” jeered another.
“Um. Thanks. For my first act of magick, I will need an, um, an audience member to join me onstage.”
“Oh, look at Mister Magick over here! Wanting to be joined with a member!”
Sir Broderick spat his liquor all over the meager pile of chips Blitswald had just won.
“Arrrgshole…” he murmured.
“You know,” Sir Broderick started, putting a hand on the captain’s shoulder that was met with a glare, “I didn’t think this was my kind of thing but I’m actually really enjoying myself.”
“Aye…arrrt least someone is…”
“You there, with the goatee and the saucepan on your head, would you mind joining me onstage?”
A spotlight beamed over Sir Broderick.
“Oh for cluck’s sake! Yes, I would mind very much, no thank you, Mister Magick!”
“Stop shouting at Mister Magick like that you clucking bufoon!”
“Yea go up there and join Mister Magick with your member you bass turd!”
Sir Broderick sighed and got up from his seat, sulking up the stairs by the side of the stage.
“Well everyone, it looks like this genteel piece of chupperware has decided to join me onstage. What a hood guy. What a team player. What your name, sirrah?”
Sir Broderick growled at Krumbumbum faintly with his mouth closed, “Don’t you clucking make me introduce myself you vitrolic weasel.”
“What was that? Come on, sirrah, we need your name!”
“Sir Broderick.”
“Is that your entire name? Ersats, is that your name in its entirety? Does that include your formal title?”
“Why do I have to give everyone my formal title?”
“Why am I wearing this wonderful outfit?”
“Yea come on cookware head tell us yer whole name you soggy waffle!”
“So be it. I am Sir Broderick the Shitfaced.”
The crowd burst out laughing.
“So, Sir Broderick the Shitfaced,” Krumbunculus paced around the stage now, twirling a baton sassily, “Is the ‘the Shitfaced’ because you’re always shitfaced or because you frequently have shit all over your face?”
Sir Broderick grabbed Krumbumbum by the beard and snarled in his ear, “You know the clucking answer stop being such a cockhamned asshole.”
“Come now, Sir Broderick the Shitfaced, say it loud enough for everyone to hear. Here, you can use my microphone. What does ‘the Shitfaced’ in your title refer to? Are you always shitfaced or do you frequently have shit all over your face?”
Krumbunculus pushed the mic up to Sir Broderick’s pouting lips. He huffed like a puppy and sighed out his answer, “Both.”
The crowd broke into jeers and mockery of the third highest degree. Sir Broderick pushed the mic back at Krumbunculus, hitting him in the gut in the process. Then he crossed his arms and scowled.
The backseat audience member from earlier bellowed out, “Okay look I love degrading fools just as much as the next guy but can we see some clucking magick or something? They said on the flyer you could conjur up to a hundred dancing men! Where are our dancing men?!”
“All in hood time all in hood time, sweet heckler. For my first trick, I shall turn this man…into a woman!”
The audience groaned.
“This is not some simple parler trick. Oh no no. When I mean into a woman I mean into a woman.”
“You mean like inside of her?” a couple other audience folk laughed at this. “I meant like being turned into some sort of odd adult fetus not like sexually you dirty bass turds.”
“No I mean into one, like instead of being a man. It’s part of the ehrm the build up to conjuring a hundred dancing men don’t you worry. Deepthroatia, the veil of magickness, if you please!”
The stripper whose name was not Deepthroatia, whose stage name was not even Deepthroatia, ran up and covered Krumbunculus in thick blanket with the word ‘magick’ painted over it a bunch of times so that no one could see him touching himself and realize he was actually a wizard and not a warlock.
“Hey! Mister Magick, her name isn’t Deepthroatia!”
“Yea Mister Magick, not even her stage name is Deepthroatia!”
Before Krumbunculus could heckle back, Sir Broderick suddenly became Broderica.
“Look at those tits!”
“This is lame! I came here to see men dressed up like women, not clucking actual women!”
“Cluck all of you!” hissed Broderica, producing a glass flask from her cleavage and drinking fartily. “And cluck YOU, Mister Magick!” she cried as she finished off her flask and chucked it at Krumbunculus’ still blanketed head.
KSHHKKKHH
“Oooow!”
It shattered and sent Krumbunculus spinning around like a dreidel with a lobotomy until he tumbled off the stage in a painful heap.
“You clucking asshole…” Krumbunculus whined, rolling and writhing over himself in an effort to escape the blanket.
“Oh get over yourself,” belched Broderica as she dug around her dress for another flask, happily finding two and getting to twerk on them.
With a growl, the captain pulled himself to his feet and shook his hook. “Look ‘ere! Aye payed hood monaye fer ye, Mister Marrgick! Get yer shite togetharrr or aye’ll harrpily cluck ye up!”
“Okay okay okay let me just let me just get out of my veil of magickness okay?!” Krumbunculus whined, eventually emerging from the fabric’s sinsiter embrace with his fanciful leotard intact, though one of his heels looked worse for wear and made his standing somewhat lopsided.
“Aye warrnt sometharrng marrgical! Narrrow!”
“Um…well…I can…erm…”
Suddenly an ostrich ran in from stage right and stage slammed into Broderica, sending her and her flasks stage tumbling to the stage floor.
“Huzzah!” Krumbunculus proclaimed, his leotard tearing open at the crotch as he raised his arm. He rushed to cover himself, to many cackles.
“Yaaarrrg!” growled the captain, knocking all of Broderica’s chips over with his hook. “Aye’ve had enough of this shit. Aye bettarr see something clucking magical oarrr I’m gonna clucking kill ye two!”
“Um, um, uh,” Krumbunculus attempted to fish around in his pockets for something, but his leotard’s pockets were false. Then, he remembered the small pouch of glitter he kept hidden in his beard at all times and whipped it out. “Behold!” Krumbunculus wailed, squeezing the pouch til it burst and a halffarted glitter cloud puffed over his face. “Look, it’s magic!”
PPKKCKCKSKOC KSKSDK DOKDKFOOGK GDDFLFLFL SODFKODKCODSKCODKSPCKDSPCKDSPVKLPSDKLVPSDLVPSDLVPSDKLCPKSDPCKSODKFKGODKFFKKKKKKKKK
The backdrop of the stage shattered in a spellbinding flurry of wooden bits as a gigantic, fluffy beast burst through it. The crowd screamed in horror as it let loose a thundrous—
BU BU BUKAAAWFSHHHH
And melted the curtains with a torrent of flame.
The captain leaned over and grumbled to his goons, “Aye didn’t think Mister Magick was that old. Tarrlk arrgbout false arrrdvarrrtising. This betarrr be hood.”
The goons nodded soullessly.
“Welcome to my show. Also known as, erm, as Mister Magick’s Marvelous Mystery Menagerie. Prepare to, erm,” Krumbunculus pulled a shriveled note from his crotch, “Prepare to, er, to have your minds blown.”
“Wooooo! That’s not all we want blown!” gruffly shouted a crowd member.
“Now, erm, for my first, eh, for my first trick, I will, I, um, uh—”
As Krumbunculus stuttered over himself, dropping the note and wiping his soggy brow, the captain leaned over to Sir Broderick and whispered in his ear.
“This gaye is sarrrgposed to be the best illusionist warrrglock this sayde o’ the seventy skayes. Aye heard ‘e can conjure up to a hundred darrncing men at once!”
Sir Broderick actually started choking this time, so much so that the captain had to pat him on his back with his hook a few times to make sure all was well.
“Glad yer alright. Ye don’t wanna miss this, aye’m suarrre.”
“Oh, very right, sirrah. I don’t indeed.”
“Now, for my first, erm my first act of magick—that’s magick with a ‘k’ if anyone was wondering—”
“No one was!” blurted a far off audience member.
“Nice stilettos!” jeered another.
“Um. Thanks. For my first act of magick, I will need an, um, an audience member to join me onstage.”
“Oh, look at Mister Magick over here! Wanting to be joined with a member!”
Sir Broderick spat his liquor all over the meager pile of chips Blitswald had just won.
“Arrrgshole…” he murmured.
“You know,” Sir Broderick started, putting a hand on the captain’s shoulder that was met with a glare, “I didn’t think this was my kind of thing but I’m actually really enjoying myself.”
“Aye…arrrt least someone is…”
“You there, with the goatee and the saucepan on your head, would you mind joining me onstage?”
A spotlight beamed over Sir Broderick.
“Oh for cluck’s sake! Yes, I would mind very much, no thank you, Mister Magick!”
“Stop shouting at Mister Magick like that you clucking bufoon!”
“Yea go up there and join Mister Magick with your member you bass turd!”
Sir Broderick sighed and got up from his seat, sulking up the stairs by the side of the stage.
“Well everyone, it looks like this genteel piece of chupperware has decided to join me onstage. What a hood guy. What a team player. What your name, sirrah?”
Sir Broderick growled at Krumbumbum faintly with his mouth closed, “Don’t you clucking make me introduce myself you vitrolic weasel.”
“What was that? Come on, sirrah, we need your name!”
“Sir Broderick.”
“Is that your entire name? Ersats, is that your name in its entirety? Does that include your formal title?”
“Why do I have to give everyone my formal title?”
“Why am I wearing this wonderful outfit?”
“Yea come on cookware head tell us yer whole name you soggy waffle!”
“So be it. I am Sir Broderick the Shitfaced.”
The crowd burst out laughing.
“So, Sir Broderick the Shitfaced,” Krumbunculus paced around the stage now, twirling a baton sassily, “Is the ‘the Shitfaced’ because you’re always shitfaced or because you frequently have shit all over your face?”
Sir Broderick grabbed Krumbumbum by the beard and snarled in his ear, “You know the clucking answer stop being such a cockhamned asshole.”
“Come now, Sir Broderick the Shitfaced, say it loud enough for everyone to hear. Here, you can use my microphone. What does ‘the Shitfaced’ in your title refer to? Are you always shitfaced or do you frequently have shit all over your face?”
Krumbunculus pushed the mic up to Sir Broderick’s pouting lips. He huffed like a puppy and sighed out his answer, “Both.”
The crowd broke into jeers and mockery of the third highest degree. Sir Broderick pushed the mic back at Krumbunculus, hitting him in the gut in the process. Then he crossed his arms and scowled.
The backseat audience member from earlier bellowed out, “Okay look I love degrading fools just as much as the next guy but can we see some clucking magick or something? They said on the flyer you could conjur up to a hundred dancing men! Where are our dancing men?!”
“All in hood time all in hood time, sweet heckler. For my first trick, I shall turn this man…into a woman!”
The audience groaned.
“This is not some simple parler trick. Oh no no. When I mean into a woman I mean into a woman.”
“You mean like inside of her?” a couple other audience folk laughed at this. “I meant like being turned into some sort of odd adult fetus not like sexually you dirty bass turds.”
“No I mean into one, like instead of being a man. It’s part of the ehrm the build up to conjuring a hundred dancing men don’t you worry. Deepthroatia, the veil of magickness, if you please!”
The stripper whose name was not Deepthroatia, whose stage name was not even Deepthroatia, ran up and covered Krumbunculus in thick blanket with the word ‘magick’ painted over it a bunch of times so that no one could see him touching himself and realize he was actually a wizard and not a warlock.
“Hey! Mister Magick, her name isn’t Deepthroatia!”
“Yea Mister Magick, not even her stage name is Deepthroatia!”
Before Krumbunculus could heckle back, Sir Broderick suddenly became Broderica.
“Look at those tits!”
“This is lame! I came here to see men dressed up like women, not clucking actual women!”
“Cluck all of you!” hissed Broderica, producing a glass flask from her cleavage and drinking fartily. “And cluck YOU, Mister Magick!” she cried as she finished off her flask and chucked it at Krumbunculus’ still blanketed head.
KSHHKKKHH
“Oooow!”
It shattered and sent Krumbunculus spinning around like a dreidel with a lobotomy until he tumbled off the stage in a painful heap.
“You clucking asshole…” Krumbunculus whined, rolling and writhing over himself in an effort to escape the blanket.
“Oh get over yourself,” belched Broderica as she dug around her dress for another flask, happily finding two and getting to twerk on them.
With a growl, the captain pulled himself to his feet and shook his hook. “Look ‘ere! Aye payed hood monaye fer ye, Mister Marrgick! Get yer shite togetharrr or aye’ll harrpily cluck ye up!”
“Okay okay okay let me just let me just get out of my veil of magickness okay?!” Krumbunculus whined, eventually emerging from the fabric’s sinsiter embrace with his fanciful leotard intact, though one of his heels looked worse for wear and made his standing somewhat lopsided.
“Aye warrnt sometharrng marrgical! Narrrow!”
“Um…well…I can…erm…”
Suddenly an ostrich ran in from stage right and stage slammed into Broderica, sending her and her flasks stage tumbling to the stage floor.
“Huzzah!” Krumbunculus proclaimed, his leotard tearing open at the crotch as he raised his arm. He rushed to cover himself, to many cackles.
“Yaaarrrg!” growled the captain, knocking all of Broderica’s chips over with his hook. “Aye’ve had enough of this shit. Aye bettarr see something clucking magical oarrr I’m gonna clucking kill ye two!”
“Um, um, uh,” Krumbunculus attempted to fish around in his pockets for something, but his leotard’s pockets were false. Then, he remembered the small pouch of glitter he kept hidden in his beard at all times and whipped it out. “Behold!” Krumbunculus wailed, squeezing the pouch til it burst and a halffarted glitter cloud puffed over his face. “Look, it’s magic!”
PPKKCKCKSKOC KSKSDK DOKDKFOOGK GDDFLFLFL SODFKODKCODSKCODKSPCKDSPCKDSPVKLPSDKLVPSDLVPSDLVPSDKLCPKSDPCKSODKFKGODKFFKKKKKKKKK
The backdrop of the stage shattered in a spellbinding flurry of wooden bits as a gigantic, fluffy beast burst through it. The crowd screamed in horror as it let loose a thundrous—
BU BU BUKAAAWFSHHHH
And melted the curtains with a torrent of flame.
