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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Da Mighty Pen Beerkeg Boxcar Derby


Wyvern

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The last of the dark wooden cylinders is slowly rolled across the bumpy Conservatory floor, making for a grand total of 26 kegs brimming with Bruteweiser. The orcish underlings collapse as they give the heavy booze case a final heave, their dehydrated tongues tasting carpet fiber. Combined together, the many kegs of alcohol seem to take the shape of a large racetrack garage, with various taps and attached beer bongs jutting from the sides like gasoline pumps. Wyvern grins and rubs his claws together at the sight of the structure, then hops on top of one of the collapsed orcs to get a better view of the ventilation fan and booze circulation design.

 

"Exxxcccellent." Wyvern snickers to himself in long hisses, desperately trying to contain his reptilian glee. The overgrown lizard bounces up and down a bit, then turns to the troglyodyte wearing the green racing cap standing next to him. "Everything'sss arranged for the track, then?"

 

"Oh, y-yessir." The troglyodyte licks one of his fingers and examines a checklist,. "Everything in order, sir."

 

"Goooood. Then it'sss all going according to plan."

 

Wyvern grins and looks out over the Conservatory, which has been modified to resemble a large indoor racing arena. The racetrack begins with a straight starting line and a billboard advertising Almost Dragonic Brand X-tra Meady Racing Tires™, then slowly begins to develop curves and small turns as the track progresses. Once the halfway point has been reached, the real obstacles commence... purple fuzzies dot spots on the raceway, embedded in the ground, and orcish acrobats swing by the area and perform stunts in the air. A section of the track cuts by an area that has walls with tubes connected to Waterlilly's greenhouse, from which random tentacles occasionally emerge. The set of three ramps that follow promise leaps of faith over cushions made of several cute and innocent kittens tied together, and the track is topped off by a tunnel resembling a drunken idiot with a wide open mouth. The interior of the tunnel is powered by Almost Dragonic Brand X-tra Secure Idiot Flashlight Lighting™, and eventually reaches the finish line.

 

"I hereby deem thisss racetrack 100% secure in accordance with the Almost Dragonic Brand Security-Shmecurity Racing Guide™!" Wyvern lets out a victorious cackle, then pauses and eyes the troglyodyte with the checklist. "That is, if everything's been arranged."

 

"Y-yessir." The troglyodyte with the cap clears his throat and breaks into a smiley sweat. "Everything arranged, sir... except for the turtle."

 

"What?!" Wyvern grits his teeth and turns to the troglyodyte with an angry glare. "You mean you haven't found Helga yet?! I need her slow pace and hard shell as an obstacle for this course, you think these little mini-obssstacles are going to pose any sort of challenge to creative pennites?! Get yer croonies searching harder, she's gotta be around here somewhere. I mean, she's slow, how hard can it be???"

 

Wyvern throws his claws up in the air, causing the green-hatted troglyodyte to flee. The overgrown lizard breaths a short sigh, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a racing announcer microphone. He raises the mic to his snout, projecting his voice over speakers across the Pen.

 

"Come one, come all, to the Mighty Pen Beerkeg Boxcar Derby! Consssume one or more beer kegs filled with booze and use the empty kegs to design and construct yer own racing boxcar. Then, race other pennite contestants along the custom-built Conservatory racetrack using your vehicle. Partner up, brave it solo, go whichever way ya wanna go... The winner (or winners, if it's a team) of the derby will receive as a prize the sacred 26th keg of Bruteweiser, and will have the honor of finishing this last keg regardless of how hammered they already are. No need to sign up - just join in and start yer drinking as you sssee fit! I'll catch ya at the races."

 

With that, Wyvern licks his lips and begins heading over to the keg garage, determined to do a little "fueling up" of his own.

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  • 3 months later...

Kikuyu stood frozen at the doorway of the Conservatory. Her eyes turned a slow circuitous movement around the room as she took in every little detail. For a moment she wondered what crazy boozer had decided to take over the Pen, but then she realized, spotting the dragon slurping down the amber liquid nearby, that the boozer had not taken over the Pen. He lived there.

 

Kikuyu slowly, cautiously made her way over to the dragon. "Hallo Wyvern. Ahh...need some help?"

 

Wyvern looked up, burping outrageously and wiping foam from his lips. "Oh hi Kikuyu! Are you here for the boozin'-erm, I mean, racing?"

 

Kikuyu glanced suspiciously again at the racecourse, wondering what fates had taken their evil interest in her to turn her morning walk this direction, and then looked back down at the dragon. "There wouldn't be any point," she said. "Degorram and I are impervious to alcohol unless in immense quantity."

 

Wyvern grinned. "Well, as you can see, we have alcohol in immense quantity, so no problem! And as for being impervious, well, there's always a first time for everyone!"

 

Kikuyu once again let the consequences of a massive boozing party ramble around her mind, searching for something to connect with, and then shrugged. "I'll get Dego."

 

Wyvern grinned, once again turning to his Bruteweiser. "Exsssellent!"

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Degorram pulled her door open with the speed of anger. An outsider might have seen a demon staring with bloodshot eyes from within the room, but Kikuyu only saw her sister, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes dead to the world in irritation at being woken at such an ungodly hour.

 

"What?" Degorram grumbled, scratching her cheek.

 

"I wonder what a drunk shape shifter looks like," Kikuyu replied.

 

One of Degorram's eyebrows moved slowly upward, arching in exhausted amusement. "Why ever have you entertained such a thought??"

 

"Wyvern is holding a booze party," Kikuyu said. "In the name of racing."

 

"An alcohol induced race. Tell me it's not cars we're racing."

 

"Yep."

 

"I see." Degorram rubbed her face wearily. "Why does it have to be so early??"

 

"It's nine o' clock," Kikuyu said, rolling her eyes.

 

"Exactly," Degorram replied, once again turning her agitated stare upon her sister. "Fine, I'm coming."

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