“Role Playing Reality” Episode One: A History of Violins

"Do you want to run over it again?"

"Take me for a fool human and I will remove your testicles through your trout."

"Trout?"

"I meant throat."

"Well you said trout."

"I am aware of what I said."

"Why don't you be aware of what you say, as your saying it? We are here at the request of the local garrison to find out what really happened, we are their last chance for justice. Now try it again."

"Your head will make for a fine codpiece."

"I'm not really feeling it Rangnar. Have you eaten today?

"Must I always be the bad guy McCool?"

"I have some salted meat, do you want that? Hold on, here have some cheese."

"MacCool, you know that this is not about delicious num nums."

"You're a troll for Sighlongs sake....."

"And I have quested to rid myself of what is supposedly set in stone. You know this."

"Its an act Rangnar."

"Its a betrayal to what I strive to become."

"It doesn't mean anything. We do this for good."

"If it does not mean anything, why do you not do it?"

"Fine, we haven't time to argue about this. All you have to say is, 'You'll need these spare undergarments because if you don't tell me the truth, it’s my friends job to rip your hands off and at that point, most people defecate themselves.' I'll handle the rest. You understand?"

"Perfectly."


Rangnar slouched slightly to accommodate his height. The room was small and hairy like the internals of a rabbit that had been turned inside out. In the centre under directed sunlight sat Racs Bass, business associate of the murdered elf, Sequoia Bigtree and chief suspect in the subsequent investigation.
Behind Rangnar, leaning moodily against the shadowed wall, posed the dark figure of Legend McCool. Renowned for his altruism and heroics, he was now awaiting the cue to get violent.
Amateurs, thought Racs Bass. The stench of smug dripping from his very gums. They had nothing conclusive and the Troll and Thug were the theatrics of desperation. Maybe after he was free he would commit another murder just to rub it in the hollow fleshpots that bore their faces.

"What were your business dealings with the victim?"
So the smelly abomination was asking the questions. Bass decided then that he would enjoy this.
"The end of wee as the world knows it."
"I do not understand."
"Of course not," sneered Bass. "We were developing a process by which urine could be used as a cleaning agent for clothing."
"And where did you acquire my rine?"
"Urine troll. Piss. What your kind drinks instead of everything else."
Legend shifted slightly but Rangnar let the comment slide.
"You clean clothing with piss?"
"Its technical. In the future all civilised people will wash in urine. Not that you'll know about it."
"Somewhere along the path," Rangnar declared grimly, "the purity of this piss was tainted with the shittiness of murder." He was facing the wall now, arms folded behind his back, pretending to contemplate some meaningless speck on the wall.

The lumbering pus bag was dumber than a stillborn sow. Bass would have laughed, but he was saving that for the thugs almost certain attempt to strong-arm him. These fools would get nothing, no confession, no clues. Nothing. Interrogation tactics were child play to a man steeped in the business guild.
The troll turned, one arm remained resting by his back; the other outstretched offering a washboard fresh pair of jocks. Legend moistened his lips. Rangnar's eyes lit up. One hundred and forty seven miles east, a white buffalo was born.
"You will need this spare undergarments," said a newly intense Rangnar, "after my friend here gives you a hand job."
A barely audible snap was the only clue that MacCools suddenly tensed body had broken a rib.
Racs Bass's head darted from side to side in a desperate attempt to catch any words that may have lost their way to his head. Surely he didn't just say that. A vice gripped his face. "...What?"
Rangnar, unaware of his error, nodded viciously. "You will felate yourself," he declared. .
"...Excuse me?"
"Most people do," smiled the Troll.
"You can't do this, there are rules for prisoner treatment."
Rangnar snorted, "You may talk sweet about rules to my friend as he is pulling bits of you off. He does enjoy the moan of his victims."
Snap.
"You can't..."
"Make no mistake Bass, he does not want to do it, but you have forced his hand."
The prisoner licked his lips, his breathing thick, his pupils wide. Silence.
"On your head it be." Rangnar moved for the door. Legend's bowls moved for the floor.

"Okay, okay, Bigtrees methods of refining the urine were disastrous to the environment. I tried to make him understand but he didn't care about the damage."
"Are you admitting your involvement?"
"Yes...but I had to kill him. His mind was diseased with thoughts of lucrative profits and the three types of elfen pun tang. Someone had to stop him. For the sake of us all."
Racs put his arm on his chest, the finishing touch to a calculated move.
"Earth is an anagram for heart you know."

"And Racs Bass is an anagram for ass crabs," spat Rangnar, "spew your falsehoods else where."
"It," said Bass referring contemptuously to Rangnar, "knows what an anagram is?"
"That's the problem with you smart people," said Rangnar, "you believe everyone else to be stupid."
Legend's words were whitewashed with relief, "who the fool now?"
"I shall think fondly of you over a warm jug of piss, ass crabs," said green hero as he moved from the room.
"Don't feel left out. In prison you get to drink from the source," quipped Legend." And he too was away.

EPILOGUE

Rangnar and Legend stood with the leader of the local law enforcement. Their belongings packed, the road to adventures new waiting.
"My thanks to you both. I must say, you make for an odd couple, troll and human."
"I've seen stranger in my travels commander." said MacCool. "On one occasion I happened upon a chicken having intercourse with an egg."
"I have not heard this tale," said Rangnar.
"There is plenty more you haven't heard."
"A chicken and an egg," mused the commander.
"Tell me," ventured Rangnar, "which came first?"
A mischievous grin caught Legend's face by the balls.
"I did," he said sheepishly.
The commander laughed heartily at the joke. Rangnar knew better.


************************************************************

On the new season of John Doe.
John Doe remembers who he is, but forgets everything else.


John Doe
"I remember who I am. But I've forgotten everything else."

Black Cop
"Maybe we should call you John Duh. Snizzle."


And coming up next, Pimp my Ride.

Mike.
"How you gonna trip this sucka out 2shay?"

2shay
"I'm gonna put a 20 inch LCD on the bitch's back so when our boy Tyrone is pounding her dog style, he can watch skin flicks."

X-biscuit
"Faw real."