"What a surprise," Black muttered, his throat sac expanding, "more pro-turtle legislation. You know the only thing worse than that?"

"What's that?"

"The fact that this is the course of Fudgpakistan! Mark my words, by this time next year, the turtle will have the bullfrog's job!"

"That's impossible," Sean protested, "I love everyone...carnally."

"Listen up, guys," Liam said from Maradon's shoulders, "if we have to go to the road, we should probably get heading out soon. It's going to be dark, eventually, and-"

"Bandits," Maradon interjected grimly. "We should be aware of any thieves. Good thinking."

"I was actually going to say that I think it's illegal for the four of us to associate in any way and we'll get arrested for conspiracy to commit indecent exposure or something. But yeah, bandits too."

And so, with a song in their hearts and a spring in their step, the four companions who may or may not be arrested for the various schemes they undoubtedly had planned for any hapless maiden they should come across, strolled casually down the road as the sun hung high overhead.

"So," Maradon said, after the fourth hour of walking, "does anyone know what we should look for in a treasure?"

"Something shiny," Sean nodded.

"Something golden," Liam said.

"Something fresh-smelling," Black concluded.

"Huh," Maradon scratched his greasy head. "I'm not sure what sort of thing has that sort of quality."

"Gems are shiny," Liam said.

"Coins are golden," Black offered.

"Minors are fresh-smelling," Sean said, licking his lips hungrily.

"But don't they dig for copper all day?" Maradon asked, puzzled.

"...so, anyway, I'm thinking we should probably set our goals low. Here, let's try to rob this guy up ahead."

Maradon squinted down the road and saw the subject of Sean's surly statement. Standing short with a mop of black hair and clad in a black cloak, the young man seemed wildly out of place. Behind thick-rimmed glasses, two narrow eyes squinted back. A mouth drawn tightly against his face was sharp and irritable above the yellow and red scarf wrapped so tight as to be a fluffy noose about his neck.

"Good morning!" Maradon cried out in greeting, waving his wart-encrusted hand to the newcomer. "What do you say, stranger? I'm really sorry, but I was kind of hoping I could rob you!"

"Get his scarf," Black urged, "get the scarf!"

"Jesus, do you really need another one?" Sean grumbled. "You've got, like, six silk ones already."

"Sometimes I like to feel pretty," Black replied, turning up his nose. "And sometimes, I like to wear a scarf that says to the world 'hello world, I'm as tough as I can possibly while wearing a scarf.' So grab it!"

"Anyway," Maradon continued, "I was hoping we could take that scarf of yours and-"

"GENITALUS POULTRYGEITUS!" The stranger howled out the words, shaking a tiny stick at the monster.

"What's that mean?" Maradon looked from companion to companion, finding no answer save a shocked look. As he glanced down, peering out of his loincloth was the head of a large, white chicken. "Oh...well...that's strange." He glanced at the sea turtle. "Say, Sean, what kind of disease is it called when your balls apparently turned into a chicken?"

"Have you been sharing eggs with strangers?"

"No."

"In that case, I think it's probably a spell."

"Oh," Maradon said. At that moment, his eyes went so wide as to leap out of his head and he began to run about in circles, shrieking. "MY SACK IS A CHICKEN! OH GOD!"

"Calm down, bro," Liam said, struggling to hold onto his mount. "If you keep this shit up, you're going to excite the chicken!"

"If your genitals have turned into chickens already, you may be a little too excited to begin with," Sean muttered.

"By the hairy ass of Parcelus," Maradon wailed, looking to the stranger with tear-stained eyes, "who in God's name are you?!"

"Nemmy Potter!" the boy proclaimed, lifting up his hair to reveal the emblazoned scar of a drumstick across his forehead. "I am great hero come far to defeat Lord Voldemutt!"

"Voldemutt?"

"CHICKEN BUTT!" Nemmy Potter howled with delight as he waved his wand and, out of thin air, a cast iron skillet fell upon Maradon's mighty skull. "Look, you're a pot head!"

"Huh," Black said, humming quietly before his dark eyes lit up. "Oh...OH! I get it! Yeah, that's...that's cute."

"Nemmy Potter put the cutey in the scooty booty!" the wizard proclaimed.

"What?"

"JUNKUS DE LOS TRUNKUS!"

At that, Maradon's bottom quivered. A quick glance behind him revealed that his rear end was no longer made of hideous pink flesh, but rather bore several feathers of dull white plumage.

"Wait, does he do anything besides turn various parts of you into chickens?" Sean asked, scratching his head.

He would soon find out, for as they all looked up, Nemmy Potter's wand was already twirling in his finger.

Maradon knew he had to think fast...

What should Maradon do?

1: Run away! Run away!
2: No, stand and fight! Throw Liam at him!
3: Think defensively! Use Sean for a shield!

1d3 => 3

quote:

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Check out the big brains on nem-x:

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holyshit haha

quote:

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And coming in at #1 is Lazzay with "Reply." I'm Casey Casem.
The best defense is a good Liam throwing.

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I declare shenanigans!