Oct 1, 2010

KFK. (Funnier if it was spelled Cobolds...)

Manbearpig readied himself.  The tiny pitter patter of Kobold feet and Kip's helpful tips all but pinpointing their locations for him, he launched a fireball from around the corner, engulfing the Kobold in instant flames.

"YEEEEAH!" Screamed Kip, clearly enjoying his vicarious revenge.  "BURN BITCHES, BURN!"

Silently, Manbearpig wondered if the fact that the guards were obese meant that they'd taste good...  It had been a while since he'd eaten.

The Kobold redneck swore at him in its yipping, yapping language, and, then, its fingers still greasy from whatever it was that they'd been eating, he attempted to hit Manbearpig with his whip.  The grease, however, turned the strike into something more of a sloppy, almost friendly toss.

Reacting quickly, Manbearpig caught the Kobold's whip and, in one quick Jack-Burton-Its-All-In-The-Reflexes motion, attempted to attack the 'bold with it.  Failing in his attempt (though not as graphically as the Kobold) he shrugged, and hit the greasy lizard with a second fireball.  "That'll do." he smiled.

"BURN, YOU SCALED FUNGUS (fungus?  No... maybe something like... rodent... rodent?  yeah) FUCKING RODENT BITCHES! (yeah, that's more apt)"

Manbearpig shook his head.  He did not relish killing the creatures, and merely did what he needed to ensure his own survival.  Still, he could understand the malice one would tend to generate under such circumstances.  The slavery, the imprisonment... He empathized with Kip, who, Manbearpig guessed used to be a considerably more gentle soul.

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