(Modern fantasy and humor with medieval undertones. Guest starring the Heartbreakers.)
*****
Ralph was sitting by the foldout table, concentrating so furiously he looked like one of those ugly stone gargoyles they used to put up on cathedral corners to frighten evil spirits away. Across the table from him, his buddy Frank was in a similar frazzled state of mind. Both men were in their mid-thirties, highly focused on the fantasy board game resting in their midst. They were in the back of the house because Mabel couldn't stand the sight of the meticulously hand-painted miniature people, the game cards and dozens of little tokens the board game used. Every time Mabel saw the great clutter from the game, the industrious woman was nearly compelled to bring out the vacuum and suck it all away.
"If I can roll an eight through ten, I'll do enough damage to the Dungeon Boss to kill it." Ralph formulated in a low, tense voice.
"Be very careful what you wish for, dude." Frank cautioned his friend. "If you don't drop that Boss, she'll use her Retaliate skill to deal you a four-plus attack. You only have three Life Points left, dude. I don't want to sound like a downer, but maybe this is one fight you can't win. Maybe you should flee for your life, like I did."
"If I flee, I have to drop half my gold and a third of my gear!" Ralph growled. "I am not leaving my Vibrant Cloak with plus one to Dispel Darkness behind! Besides, we've been at this frigging game for nearly two hours now. I have a chance to end it, and I really think I should take that chance!"
Both men paused to have a look through the window. It was dark outside. In unison, they swiveled their heads to look at the wall clock, which said nine o'clock.
"We've been at it longer than two hours, dude." Frank said.
"I'm going to roll." Ralph said, decisively. He picked up his favorite blue, ten-sided die and dropped it into the plastic cup they'd been using. As Ralph took the cup in both hands and began shaking it, he tried to coax the die to give him a good roll. "Come on, baby. We can do this. If we take out this Boss, she can't spawn all these evil monsters and the town of Safe Haven will truly be a safe haven. Gimme an eight or better, baby!"
Ralph tipped the cup over, allowing the die to jump out onto the game board. Both men tracked its movement. For a second, it looked as if the die would bounce off the table, but it halted right there on the edge and showed the lowest numeral it could possibly show.
"You got a one, dude." Frank grumbled.
"I know that!" Ralph exploded. He was so angry he tightened his hands into fists and began pounding at the table, causing all manner of game pieces to jump up and down. "God damn it! I was this close!"
"Dude, you're causing an earthquake in Safe Haven!" Frank started grabbing at the flying pieces and quickly returning them to their former places.
"Oh, man!" Ralph barked, standing up so roughly he knocked over the chair he was sitting on. He paced away. "I was that close! If I killed that bitch Boss, we could have looted the chamber and taken her treasure!"
"Keep it down, Ralphie!" Mabel called out from down the hall. "I'm trying to watch my reality show!"
"I'll show you a reality show..." Ralph fumed, nearly ready to punch a hole in the wall. He didn't do that because he'd have to repair the hole like the last time, and besides, it would hurt like a sun-bitch.
"Shit, dude." Frank muttered, as he kept on playing.
"What?"
"Well, when the Boss used Retaliate, she activated her poison aura. It just did ten damage to me and I wasn't even in the same room. At least you got a hero's death. I'm over here gasping and dragging my ass all over the chamber while turning green. Fuck! I died too!"
"The next time we face the Boss, she'll have her full health again, won't she?"
"That's right." Frank nodded. "She resets every time we get killed."
"Turn over the loot card." Ralph urged. "I want to see what we could have gotten if we'd beaten that red-haired bitch."
"Dude, what if it is something really good? We'll both get pissed off. Let's just put the game away and forget about it."
Adamant, Ralph leaned over the table and turned over the first loot card. The card showed a shiny golden helmet with plus ten to life, and bonuses to strength, dexterity, agility and a holy freeze aura against undead monsters.
"Dude, I could have sooo used that." Frank lamented.
When Frank started pounding at the table, Ralph took his chair and followed the man's lead. Both men were pounding so hard they were making all the game pieces fall off the table, because that was the only way they could get revenge on the game for having killed them. Well, they could have destroyed the game itself, but it was their favorite game so they didn't do that.
"What the hell is going on in here, Ralphie?" Mabel walked in, wearing her snug cotton shorts, gasping when she saw all the little pieces on the floor. "Oh, you pair of bastards, you just had to go and make a mess in here, didn't you? That's it, Ralphie, I'm getting the vacuum!"
"No, you're not." Ralph muttered. "When Frank and I cool off, we'll pick everything up."
"Pick that mess up right now, Ralphie!"
"I said we'll do it in a little while." Ralph repeated.
"I know you, Ralphie." Mabel scolded her husband. "You always lose at that game, and you always say you'll pick the pieces up. Then you get drunk, and I end up having to pick them up in the morning. I guess I'll have to do it myself, again!"
When Mabel mentioned beer, Ralph glanced over at the lamp stand. Since the men were always knocking things over, they'd taken to putting their beer cans away from the table. Ralph stood up and went to grab the two open cans that had been sitting there for a while. Luckily, the alcohol was comfortably cool. Still upset, Frank had his head cradled in his hands, but he did have a few gulps once Ralph brought his beer over.
Both men were distressed as they drank their sorrows away. It wasn't the first time that same Dungeon Boss had killed their characters, and if past history was any indicator, it probably wouldn't be the last. Absently, the two men looked at the game board, before they turned their attention toward Mabel, who had the bad habit of not bending her knees when she was in a bad mood and picking things up off the floor. Mabel still had a pretty good figure on her. She looked like an ostrich with a nice plump ass when she leaned over to scoop up all the game tokens.
"You know what this game really needs?" Frank asked. "More than frigging boots with plus one to walking speed?"
"What?" Ralph replied.
"Wenches."
Mabel wasn't paying any attention to them by then. She would grab as many of the little game pieces as she could, before dumping them all into a pile on the table. Ralph was ready to go and sort the tokens, as there were different sorts and they went into their own little pouches. He paused when Mabel brushed by him and went to collect another bunch. The same as before, she leaned way over and rounded out her butt as she clawed the scattered items off the floor.
"Wenches are always good, right?" Ralph shrugged.
"Think about it, dude." Frank envisioned. "What if we beat this Dungeon Boss, and the loot was really a doorway to a hidden chamber. And what if, inside that chamber, there was a harem of wenches? Wouldn't that be something?"
Ralph grinned. He used to have a stack of old Playboy magazines hidden in the upper shelf of his closet, up until Mabel had discovered them and tossed them out.
"What are you looking at?" Mabel asked, when she noticed Frank ogling her.
"A wench." Frank chuckled.
"Did you just call me a wench? Ralphie, you'd better say something, before I punch Frank's lights out."
"Frank, don't call my wife a wench." Ralph said.
"You two were farting in here, weren't you?" Mabel asked, as she went down on her knees to get at the miniature people that were hiding under the table. This time, she bent all the way over to reach them, shoving at Frank's feet until he slid his chair back.
Both men stood up and, while holding their beers, went to the end of the table where they could have a better look at Mabel's big, round ass.
"Yeah, that's what we need around here: wenches." Frank nodded. "Our wives, dude, they'd make for really shitty wenches back in the day. They don't cater to us or flirt with us like the wenches do in the movies. They don't bring us chips and beer when we need them, and they don't really dress sexy, either. In fact, all our wives do is nag us until we can't stand them anymore."
"This is true." Ralph nodded. "I guess times have changed."
"I read somewhere that in the old days, knights were not as chivalrous as people make them out to be." Frank nodded. "I heard that knights would woo the ladies, and they'd write poetry for them and bring them gifts and shit. When they were out in the villages, on the other hand, if a knight would see a chick he liked, he'd just drag her into the woods and hump her."
"There's a couple of girls at work I'd like to take into the woods." Ralph grinned.
At some point, Mabel had begun paying a little more attention to what the men were saying. She was still on all fours underneath the table, as she looked over her shoulder and saw the men standing behind her. "What did you just say, Ralphie?"
"Uh, nothing."
"It had better be nothing." Mabel grumbled, while she gathered the last of the fallen game pieces.
"Here's what I'm saying." Frank punched his open hand. "Back in the day, a knight wouldn't ask anybody permission to do anything! He just went out and did it! And he didn't have any wenches giving him any back talk! We lost it, Ralph. We really lost it. In what kind of messed up world do the wenches lord it over the knights? You see what I'm saying?"
Mabel stood up, dropping her last handful of tokens on the table. She pointed an accusing finger at Frank. "Did you just call me a wench again? You've had too much to drink, Frank. Get out. Go home and go to sleep. We don't need you here speaking all these vulgarities to my sweet Ralphie. Tell him, Ralphie."
"Yeah, it is getting late." Ralph nodded. "We'd better call it a night, Frank. I'll walk you outside."
"That's it, dude?" Frank asked. "The wench snaps her fingers, and the knight loses his balls. Fine, I'll go home. Hey, Ralph, why don't you call me when you find your balls, okay?"
"I have balls."
"Not in this house you don't." Frank made a face at him. "Ask your wife where your balls are. Go ahead, I dare you."
Ralph faced his better half. "Well? What do you have to say about that?"
