Potions
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Caught in a rather good romance
It sounds like I’m playing a video game and someone is trying to sell me potions. :D
…that is exactly what it sounds like
ITS 4/20 YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS
be responsible and don’t smoke with your pets in the room and don’t ever leave your weed within their reach. weed is very fragrant and seems tasty to them. trust me when i tell you you don’t want the vet bills or insane emotional stress of letting them eat it. do you know what it’s like to see your young and healthy dog unable to walk and completely none responsive to your touch or voice?? no?? lets keep it that way. please.
Annual reblog, do not smoke or leave weed around any pets! Ever!
Steve Irwin travels back and forth between heaven and hell to make the most watched TV show as of yet: The Crocodile Hunter vs. Satan’s Abominations
Transcription of Celestial T.V. Spot: Steve Irwin’s Abyssal Creatures, #S15-2. Location: The Abyss, Layer #66, the Demonweb. Starring Steve Irwin, Directed by Inias, Produced by Metatron, All rights reserved: Celestial Broadcasting Center (CBC) and The Lord, He Who Is On High. Reproduction and/or distribution without express permission is punishable by a fine of up to $5,000 or eternity in Hell.
BEGIN TRANSCRIPTION
Steve Irwin crouches beside a gnarled tree covered in thick webbing.
STEVE: G’day, I’m Steve Irwin. I’m here in the Abyss today, on layer 66, which you may know as the “Demonweb.” Come on over here. Let me show you a real beauty. (indicates creature). That big fella right there is called a bebilith. She must be four and a half meters tall. Now look at those legs! Those legs! Wow! Those legs could skewer me in one bad step. Or a good step if she’s looking for it (laugh).
The bebilith drinks moaning souls from a steaming cesspool, then scuttles over to a stone spire to begin covering it in webbing.
STEVE: She’s got eight legs like an arachnid, but she’s no ordinary house spider, I can tell you. She’s also got those big old claws. See that curve at the end like a fish hook? Or I guess pry-bar is a better comparison because she’ll take those wicked beauties and put them right here (indicates sternum) and tear me open like a bag of crisps. We’ll try to avoid that today (laugh). Come on, let’s try to get a closer look.
Steve carefully stalks closer and pauses when the bebilith looks at him.
STEVE: Here we are. She’s taken notice of me. Get a look at those eyes. They’ve got the visage of damned souls in there, and she’s trying to bind me with fear, because that’ll make me easy prey. If I’m afraid, I’ll freeze. I’m not that easy mate. Nice try. I’m making small movements to show I’m not paralyzed with fear, but I’m still taking it slow so she doesn’t perceive me as a threat. That’s it, mate. That’s it, mate.
Steve moves closer. The bebilith produces webbing from its backside and flings some at Steve. He dodges and circles the bebilith slowly.
STEVE: Boy! What a right trick she’s got. (laugh). Did you see what she did there? That webbing’s not actually all that dangerous. None of the toxins you’ll see in the Nest Shriekers, and nowhere near the tensile strength of a Derragon. She’s just trying to pin me down, even for a moment. But if she’s got that moment, she’ll charge and then it’s all over for old Steve. Let’s not give her that moment, what do you say? (laugh). Come on, Mate. That’s it. Come on.
Steve approaches to within arms length of the bebilith. It remains stationary, but watches him.
STEVE: She’s still trying to figure me out. I’m not all that bad. You’re a beauty. Wow, look at that chitin. Imagine a Archon’s Sword on that armor. She’s like a tank. (bebilith shifts). Whoa, mate. Let’s keep away from those claws. Whoa, mate. Come on, mate. There we go. (laugh). That’s right. I’m trying to put her at ease. A lot of people think demon’s are composed of pure chaos and evil, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. They’re just the lovely little gifts we get from the Abyssal Maw. They just need respect. Don’t take that to mean you should walk right up and pet one, though. Don’t forget, I’m a professional. Just look at her. Wow!
BEBILITH: (Abyssal curses)
STEVE: Listen to that. Doesn’t that just amaze you? What a commanding voice. What a majestic sound. She’s got a real range of vocalizations that she can use to warn off intruders or plant the seeds of madness in the mortal mind. It’s a beauty. Wow. Now, you may notice I’m keeping to her side right here. That’s for good reason, friends. I told you about her claws, but I’m also keeping some distance from that wicked pair of mandibles she has there. Look at them. Wow! Must be 20 centimeters long. If she bites down on me, she’ll pump a good half-liter of poison right into my veins that’ll seize up my muscles in the blink of an eye. (laugh). Then I’m ripe for the picking. Boy, what a bad day that would be. You’ve got a thousand ways to kill, don’t you, mate?
The bebilith turns away from him and begins etching arcane runes into a bleached human skull with a sharp claw. Steve wraps his arms around a leg in a hug-like embrace.
STEVE: There we go, girl. There we go girl. (petting her). I can call her “girl” now because we’re in love. She knows I’m not here to hurt her, and I know she’s not interested in laying a clutch of eggs in my intestines. She may look like a giant spider-crab made of spines, but I know she’s just a big softy. We were lucky to find her today. Here in the Demonweb, bebiliths are becoming harder and harder to find. Layer 66 in general is shrinking as other infinite layers grow and spring into existence. It could get squeezed down until our girl doesn’t have the habitat to sustain her soul harvests any longer. What a shame. But that’s just the way of life in the Abyss.
Steve touches the bebilith for a moment longer, then carefully backs away towards the camera.
STEVE: In a few millennia we might see the layer bounce back, and hopefully our girl here will still be going strong. Until then, we’ll let her be. Oh, look at that beauty. Wow! I hope you had as wild a time as I did here with this beautiful bebilith. I’m real excited we could make the trek all the way down here. The Abyss can be an amazing place if you know where to look. Thank you for joining me, and I hope to see you again soon on “Steve Irwin’s Abyssal Creatures.” G’day!
Wow! You had me smiling the entire read. I love the story @drrove
Tonight on “What the fuck is my life”:
Arwen found a dead fish in the back yard, which is Odd, becuase I’m more than half a mile from the nearest lake.
It’s a completely intact but also totally dessicated bluegill.
Like someone caught a bluegill, and stuck it in a dehydrator.
If it was fresh or had puncture marks I’d chalk it up to the osprey but how does a completely dehydrated, otherwise intact bluegill end up in my yard?
New complication: so apparently the county stopped stocking bluegill five years ago.
Which is about the exepected lifespan for wild bluegill.
And this is a juvenile fish.
They’re not breeding becuase the lake is a resivor that gets drained to a puddle every year and only the carp survive (Part of the reason they stopped stocking bluegill.)
So this fish didn’t come from anywhere in my county, or someone is illegally stocking the lake.
S E C R E T I L L I C I T B L U E G I L L.
You turn on the radio one morning to find another one of those Rap songs where every 4th word is a swear. Naturally the Radio bleeps it out, but you realize that it sounds familiar. You realize that the rappers are speaking in Morse code.
Your eyes widen as you swerve over onto the shoulder of the expressway, nearly hitting a Jeep Cherokee in the process. It didn’t matter to you. Frantically searching the glove compartment, the backseat, and your purse, you finally find a small notepad and a pen with a low ink cartridge. You listen closely to the radio, and begin to scribble down as much as you can. You realize it was merely a pattern.
— -. . / - .– — / - .– — / ..-. .. ..-. - -.–
Unfortunately for you, you aren’t very well versed in translating Morse code, merely recognizing it. You reach into your purse to grab your phone, but after a moment of searching, you realize you had left it at home before you left for work. “God damnit,” you mutter. You’re more than halfway to your office, and you’re already running late due to the fact that that you decided to follow some whim and jot down some cryptic message from a provocative rapper. Concluding that it would probably be best for you to mosey to work, you pull back onto the expressway and try to make it to work on time.
Upon arriving at work, you ask any coworker in sight if they know Morse code. Nobody seems to, and some don’t even know what Morse code is. You slump your shoulders in disappointment and head over to your desk, when suddenly, the quiet, mouse-like secretary clears her throat and says, “Excuse me, I know Morse code!”
You turn around with the same wide eyes as before. “You do!?” you ask vigorous excitement, which seems to startle the young woman.
“Yes,” she says, “when I was younger, I planned on joining the navy, so I taught it to myself.” You feel a bit sorry for her, that she wound up as a mere secretary instead of a naval officer, but that feeling of pity didn’t stop you from being grateful for the lucky coincidence of her knowing Morse code. You show her the pattern.
— -. . / - .– — / - .– — / ..-. .. ..-. - -.–
“That’s all there is?” she asks, furrowing her brow.
“Yeah,” you shrugged, “it just kept repeating that over and over again. What does it say?”
“One, two, two, fifty.”
Your heart sinks a little. “What is that? What does that mean, is it like a phone number or house address or something?”
The secretary shrugs. “I’m really sorry, I don’t know. It’s too short to be a phone number, but beyond deciphering it, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
You nod slowly, and though you understand, you are still not at all satisfied. You go to sit at your desk. 1 2 2 50. The sequence plays over and over in your head all day, and needless to say, your curiosity an wonderment got the best of you. It was not a very productive work day.
You head home, and the same damned song plays on the radio. You shake your head as if that would make the song stop, then decide to plug 12250 into your GPS to see if there are any autofill results. None. You become increasingly frustrated.
When you get home, your daughter is sitting at the kitchen table, working on homework. She runs up to you and gives you a big hug, and asks about your day at work. You put on a fake smile and sigh. “Interesting,” you say— no doubt sugarcoating the intense excitement, disappointment, and confusion.
“Will you help me with my homework? I have to memorize something for my history class tomorrow.”
“Of course, doll! What are you memorizing?”
She hands you a laminated sheet of paper. “Roman numerals!”
You glance over the page, your eyes quickly darting from one, to two, to fifty.
It dawns on you. You’d recognize this pattern anywhere.
I II II L