Part 9
Just kidding. V
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V
I walk down the longest hallway I've ever seen for no reason but to remind me that I'm in a castle. Hey, fuckos, I'm a Princess, I don't need reminding. I could buy and sell your ass just to feed it to my Chihuahua. Tinkerbell loves to eat asses.
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About three and a half hours later, I make it to a staircase descending into darkness. I shrug and figure, hell, why not? I'm a big girl, and obviously, I kick ass at adventuring.
I step down onto the top stair and somehow trip over my own feet, falling down about forty marble steps onto my face. Ten years of ballet and I can't even walk like a grown up.
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The floor appears to be made out of someone's small intestine. I'm not complaining, because it sure was soft to land on, but you'd think they'd choose a material that smells less like human shit. Who the fuck owns this place? It's like Martha Stewart's worst nightmare.
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Even the flames are depressed. It's not so hard to decorate, you know. A few bolts of taffeta draped over the walls and a nice hardwood would do wonders. It's not a crime to be fashionable in your own dungeon.
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And we are two wild and crazy... well yeah you get the idea.
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As he said, it's a maze. Mazes always suck, no matter what. No exceptions. The gaudy gothic decor continues throughout this level, but a few floors down there's a pretty rockin' disco. I take some time to boogy with the fella in the middle there, but when he refuses to buy me a drink I kill him like the swine he is. Like I'd sleep with him for nothing. I'm a high-quality woman and as such I deserve a high-quality man. One who buys me drinks or at least throws
some money towards me before I put out.
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I emerge from the dungeon into, great, yet another abandoned village. Who the crap built this deathtrap kingdom? <
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>
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Yeah, you know, I understand that nobody's living here right now, but what the fuck good is a house with just a table? Where did they sleep?
What did they eat, for that matter? And in case you think they might've had a lush furniture set in the basement...
![](9-8-basement.jpg)
YOU'RE FUCKING WRONG. <
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>
This is like the cabin from Evil Dead. That makes me uneasy, because we all know what happens to girls in Evil Dead movies.
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Your boyfriend.
![](9-10-splatter2.jpg)
Oops, I hope it wasn't too serious.
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Oh, whew. Thank God there's no fire. That would clearly be the most dangerous thing in these dungeons. I mean, giant slime that looks like a mass of flesh that shouldn't be alive? Gang raping aliens spawning from sticky clitoral masses? The fucking
Reaper? Oh yeah, no problem.
But FIRE.
Well.
Next Time: REUNION. FOR REAL THIS TIME.