House Guests

I really loath house guests.

Specifically one house guest.

Specifically that one house guest who's punched me in the face so many times.

Anyhoo.

It was the morning after I got lost in the jungle, but it didn't look like morning. The rain was still pouring, though the wind had died down a little. The clouds made the whole thing so dark that it almost looked like night.

Of course, naturally, I had a cold. A cold. I am an overlord. I shouldn't get colds.

But I had one, and Salt said that there was actually no bloody cold medicine on the whole bloody island. Thanks to the storm, no contact was being made with the mainland or anything - of course, I don't make contact anyway, normally, because they actually don't know of my tyranny here.

So I sat and suffered in silence broken by the occasional groan or exaggerated fit of coughing.

Everyone was gathered in the only comfortable room in the fortress, which had a fireplace, a few bookcases, and some assorted chairs and such. Mathew was humming some annoying ditty while throwing bits of wood on the fire (the power was out, naturally). Salt lounged against the wall reading, while Pepper and Hero chattered over hot chocolate.

That was another thing that annoyed me; Pepper and Hero got along wonderfully. They bickered about some things, chatted over others, and the whole thing was irritating. I mean, they wouldn't shut up.

And I was lying, shivering, wrapped in blankets in the giant black armchair. I couldn't even kick Hero out of the fortress, and none of the others would. I mean, what kind of minions were they? They wouldn't even destroy the hero who we were fighting against. Totally ridiculous. If only I could reach my explosionator gun...

Continuation of Chaos

First off, I just figured I'd announce to the world that I hate this new blogger thing. I think the old way worked just find myself...

But I'm sure you're all anxiously  awaiting the thrilling conclusion to my wet and muddy adventure.

The rain continued to fall for hours as myself and Captain Hero staggered, lost, through the jungles of Gothica, which is annoyingly filled with vegetation.

I don't really know why C. Hero was out there, really. He didn't seem to be having a good time of it, anyway. I think it had something to do with the rain, or the winds, or the fact that he was rapidly running out of hair gel.

I suppose I wasn't exactly in top-notch frame of mind either, when it comes to it. In fact, quite the opposite; I was miserable. But there was little else to do besides tag along after C. Hero, so that's what I did. Of course, I made sure to always keep my hand on my stun gun (it was broken, but don't tell him that).

It was several hours later, when the first sign of human life other than myself (Captain Hero is classed with other bipeds such as orangutangs) in the form of Pepper. Clad in a bright orange raincoat (memo to self: Buy the mercenaries more appropriate rain-gear; orange is not a suitable evil color), she was holding a battery-powered lantern.

"I've been searching for you for fifteen minutes!" she yelled faintly over the rain, completely ignoring Hero.

"Sorry to keep you bloody waiting!" I replied, in my usual, soft, sweet tones.

"I was just on the web," I heard her say over the winds, "and it looks like in a few minutes, it's going to get really bad out here."

"Heaven forbid it should get bad!" I screamed. "Drat it, Pepper, where's the fortress?"

"It's just beyond that clump of vaguely foreboding trees," she said, pointing with her free hand, and we stumbled off towards the obsidian shaded building. Hero trailed behind, and it wasn't long before we arrived at the fortress. Pepper banged on the giant main entrance, and the doors swung open, pulled by Salt.

"I've been looking for you for hours," I gasped as I trudged in.

"I was reading," he said quietly.

"Where, Nebraska?"

"Shut up," said Pepper bluntly. "Salt, go make some hot chocolate. Captain, will you please shut the doors? It's getting water on the floor, and I really hate mopping."

That was really only the start of that horrible, horrible week.