Xtreme Manly Man Force of Intense Badassery: Book One: The Fountain of Testoserone (38 page)

“Sounds good enough t’me,” UDGD grunts
with a casual nod to the side. Hokair shrugs.

“Well alright then, wait just a
moment,” Hokair says as he rushes off for a minute, and then
returns with a box full of something mysterious. He opens the box
to reveal several small objects tied to strings, looking long
enough to be necklaces. UDGD scowls with disgust, finding the
objects sissyish, ornate, and probably weak in a fight.

“Jewelry? I do-”

“Oh, but sir! This isn’t jewelry,
they’re homing beacons! You just twist the two sides and press the
button, and if you’re anywhere near Smashlandian territory, we can
come pick you up. Just keep them if you’re ever in the
neighborhood, alright?” Hokair explains as he hands the five of
them said homing beacons; “hands” being the correct term for only
four of the five, as IMRM doesn’t have any. IMRM makes due,
however, as Honks offers to take his as well. UDGD sighs, and
decides he might as well take it along, just not around his
neck.

“Alright, thanks,” he says as he and
the others gladly take the gifts. Mr. Honkers is thrilled
especially, as he’s been looking for cool things to decorate his
new get up with; the Reader can guess that this new “get up”
actually doesn’t look all that cool.

“Right then, sirs, it’s been such an
honor serving you!” Hokair says with a bow as a group of servants
open the doors leading to the gates of the flying keep.

“Whatever.”

“Pleasure’s all mine!”

“Sure thing, dweeb.”

“Anytime, friend!”

“Thank you for your service,” UDGD, HT,
Honks, SISY, and IMRM respond respectively. They leave with a
banter of goodbyes between HTO and Hokair, moving between the two
rows of servants and soldiers on their way out. SISY gives a
special wave to Len, the doctor, who responds by waving lightly and
with an unenthusiastic smile. As the floating keep Bashgaurde
descends to the ground, the gates swing open, and the manly men go
down the steps and onto solid ground. The soldiers and servants in
the keep give them a warm goodbye, and the fortress takes flight
into the air. The five stand there, and watch Bashgaurde disappear
into the clouds as the light of the day cycle gives it a
resplendent sheen.

“Well, that was pretty fuckin’ stupid,”
UDGD says with raised, judging brow. SISY laughs.

“Oh, come on, friend! This was
incredible! How else could we all have met?” SISY asks with a grin
as he turns with the others to enter Crimland. HTO nods.

“Gotta’ say. While this has been sort
of a complete waste of time, it was nice enough to meet you all.
So, if Laivok and Rick’s coming back to Liuil, what will you do,
Ace?” Phillip asks, scratching an itch as they get onto the main
road into the city. Ace nods his head a bit to the side a moment,
and then looks over to Honks, who promptly scoffs.

“Cool stuff that you dweebs couldn’t
appreciate. Hope you guys like being scrubs without us. I’ll be
busy swimming in my pool of money, ain’t that right, robo-dork?”
Mr. Honkers asks with his squeal of a voice. Ace decides to
nod.

“Yes, that’s what is currently being
planned,” IMRM says, knowing that’s obviously not what they’ll be
doing, and understanding that everyone but Honks can guess
that.

“Heh, yeah alright. You guys have fun
with that,” HTO answers with a shrug.

“Yeah, we will,” Honks replies with a
wry smirk, ending their conversation. At that, the group moves into
Crimland, amidst a few nasty glares from passerbys, and up to the
space gate in the center square. The O.E.L. entry-control officer
motions them over.

“You wish to use the gate?” the officer
begins, dressed in the standard O.E.L. armor, giving them that
face-less appearance much like IMRM’s, just white armor instead of
black. Honks crosses his arms, and tilts his head back.

“ ’Course,” Honks says.

“And according to the records you’re...
oh, m-.”

“ ’Course,” Honkers says again over the
guard’s surprise.

“R-right, and the record here says
you’ve been visiting this sector for... sex tourism?”

“ ’Course.”

“Right, uh... I hope you enjoyed that,
sir.”

“ ’Course.”

“I guess I’ll just set you all back to
your previous destination... Liuil, it says here?”

“ ’Course.”

“Right, have a nice day,
si-”

“FOR THE HOUSE OF SANGUINE!” A meaty,
manly voice gurgles from behind the group.

ENGAGE!

SISY turns just in time to dodge a
sweeping axe strike from a giant dude in armor made from the skin
of thirty different men, rife with maggots and flies. Around his
arm is a crimson band, signifying his allegiance in Crimland. SISY,
UDGD, and HTO go to draw their weapons, but barely enough to pull
them from their sheaths as the titanic man is disintegrated by a
hail of high-velocity shells from both sides of the space gate. The
assassin, having had about three hundred shells unloaded into him
by the O.E.L. operatives, is now but an unrecognizable pile of
blood, organs, and skin. The operatives lower their rifles, quite
certain the threat has been neutralized.

VICTORY!

“Sorry about that, sir. Crimland’s been
in a good bit of disease thanks to some idiot from the rebel force
assassinating the sole heir of the royal family a couple days ago.
Anyway, we’ll get this mess cleaned up, so you can go on ahead,
sir,” the main officer says as he takes a quick moment to check his
bullet count, and then motions another operative to open the gate
for the group. The four in the group spare a quick look over to
SISY, who just turns his head away from them with a huge, stupid
grin on his face.

After SISY’s slightly awkward moment,
the gate opens up to reveal Liuil, looking as depressing as usual.
Honks casually waves off the now-saluting O.E.L. guards, and the
five manly men enter into the warp.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE: GOOD BYES ARE
NOT MANLY

Stepping out, the five of them spend a
short moment waiting for one of the others to do something. Mr.
Honkers finally decides he’s sick and tired with these noobs for
now, and to take initiative.

“Well, it’s been cool, ya’ scrubs. Now
that you’re all dropped off and such, me and gears here can enjoy a
proper meal, which we were so rudely interrupted from,” Honks says
with a pretentious afro-sway; SISY chuckles.

“Right, friend. Remember to never turn
away from a challenge, especially not a fight!” SISY says with an
enthusiastic fist pump. Honks rolls his eyes, and IMRM
nods.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Alright, you as well,” the two of them
reply in their own ways. At that, the two minions of the O.E.L.
step off to the crowds of people, toward the precise same
establishment UDGD found them in. HTO sighs, thinks a moment, and
then speaks up.

“Hey, Ace!” Phillip says. IMRM stops a
moment and turns his head.

“Yes?”

“Thanks for everything,” Phillip says
with a wide, real gaze. IMRM nods.

“My pleasure,” is all he has to say
before the armless man turns again and leaves.

Phillip, Laivok, and Rick stand a
moment; one obviously admiring the absence of the noble Ace, and
the other two just glad Honks is gone.

“We’ll, they’re gone, finally. Guess
I’ll see ya’ two ‘round, then,” UDGD says with a cold expression.
SISY laughs and nods.

‘ “You bet! This is going to be
incredible! I’m so pumped to live here with you guys, it’ll be like
an EVERLASTING SLEEP OV-”

“Chill out, Swordsman.”

“Seriously,” HTO and UDGD say
respectively.

“Oh, eh, yeah alright. Anyway, so I
guess we will be seeing more of you, Death,” SISY says as he
scratches the back of his neck. UDGD shrugs.

“Right, I’ll probably be busy doin’
mercenary work, considerin’ I’ve just wasted a ton a’ time on this
whole fountain thing,” UDGD says with a grunt, manlier than it’s
ever been.

While he claims that it’s been a waste
of time, the three of them know that’s not really true. The three,
and perhaps by extension five of them have become all the manlier
for it, forging new, unbreakable bonds of manly friendship through
blood and battle; they feel pretty cool about the whole thing,
especially when they killed that super manly dude.

“Right, I’ll see you there later I
guess... and sorry, again, for trying to murder you,” Phillip says
with a smile. UDGD raises a brow.

“Yeah, whatever,” he says as he turns
about to leave. The Grim, manly Axeman disappears into the crowds,
and HTO turns to SISY.

“By the way, my real mercenary title is
Heart Tearer Outer, not Dick Tearer Offer,” HTO says, fairly
excited to have his rent costs split. SISY laughs.

“Ahh, good, that’s nice, that names
better.”

“I agree,” Phillip says as they step
off themselves to his apartment.

“So is there a gym here?”

“Yes.”

“Lots of restaurants?”

“Definitely.”

“Fights?!”

“Not really. At least not in comparison
to what you’re used to,” HTO says with a hint of
sympathy.

“Aww, well, at least I can still become
a mercenary now, right?!”

“Eh, yeah. Lots of that work to go
around.”

“And fighting!”

“Yes, lots of fighting, during
missions, Swordman,” HTO notes, making very sure SISY understands
that it would be bad to run around killing civilians for
fun.

“Cool, so we’re going to the mercenary
guild now, right, to get a new mission?”

“No, we’re going back to my apartment
so I can take a nap.”

“B-”

“No, sorry, I’m taking my fucking nap
right the fuck now,” HTO says bluntly.

“... yeah alright,” SISY says with a
re-sobered expression, having again re-adjusted his excitement
knob.

The two warriors reach the apartment
complex, a large wooden working of windows with a front like an
inn- charming in its own way. The Subspace Orchestra begins slowly
crooning out credits music. The two take a moment to note the
unexpected tune, and then they step inside to enjoy a well-deserved
rest. They are unaware that these friendships they made are simply
the beginning to something much, much greater than any one of
themselves.

TO BE CONTINUED

A very sensible and possibly also-manly
note from the author:

Hello, Reader! Thank you so much for
reading the first book in XMMFIB, an experimental series that,
aside from having a very large acronym, is meant to explore many of
the ways people look at modern writing and various themes contained
within. You, beautiful, intelligent Reader, can look forward to
many more badass, sweat-and-blood-drenched adventures led by Ultra
Death Graveman Death Death Death and his many allies as time goes
on; finding the Fountain of Testosterone is only the easiest of
their quests!

That said, I’d love to hear what you
thought of it all. All love and hate should be sent to
[email protected] Or, if you’re more of a social media
creature, you are more than welcome to check out my blog,
inkston.blogspot.com. I love hearing what you have to say, dear
Reader, be it your declaration of undying love for me, or your
hateful, angry curses, everything will be beheld by my watchful
email eyes. Just a note, though, while I might not have the time to
answer everyone’s emails, I certainly will read all of them, so
there you have it, Reader; you game?

But, while I’m on that subject of
asking questions and giving feedback, I might as well give you a
quick Q and A list so I can save your time; after all, this is a
satirical novel with crude content attempting to display less-crude
ideas, so I’m certain you must have one or two things on your
mind.

Let’s begin with probably the most
common one:

Q: Are you a
racist/sexist/classist/artificist/someotherist? Is that why you
presented (group) as (Trait or I don’t approve of)?

A: Dear Reader, I need to walk you out
on a limb here, and ask you to treat the people portrayed in this
story as people that represent people rather than characters
representing characters. For example: just because Phillip is the
only white person in the group, and he just so happened to be
plotting murder for 85% of the novel does not mean that you should
walk away from this thinking that I think light skinned males plot
murder 85% of the time. For another: just because Mr. Honkers finds
purple and white fashionable colors to put together, or that it’s
appropriate to call one’s comrades “dweeb”, does not mean you
should take from this that short people with darker skin all have
terrible fashion sense, or are unpleasant people in general. On the
contrary, as some of the most un-murdery people I’ve met were
white, and some of the most enjoyable and fashionable ones black
(not necessarily implying that whiteishes are unstylish and
unpleasant and blackesques love murder); so hold your horses,
Reader. Besides, if all goes as planned, I’m going to be tackling
racial and sexual themes in later novels in this series, so wait on
that.