“I fucking hate ‘Gunk Lyf,’ dude, what does it even mean?” I asked. We were discussing who should join the other’s party, Evan joining ours was the obvious choice, but like always, he was being a bitch. We were mostly stalling, the crossroads only gave us one option, all three directions other than backwards led to the same place: Whittier Drive, specifically, the cul-de-sac on Whittier Drive. Five of the houses on the street had been stacked on top of each other, complete with doors and stoops or porches. The icon on the sign was a golden skull behind some vertical bars, like a jail cell. We didn’t want to go, but we had no choice.

“It’s like, y’know, gunk life, it’s punk. It’s saying ‘fuck your clean, suburban lifestyle,’ we’re dirty, we’re grimy,” Evan explained.

“Dude, we live in a clean suburban house,” I said.

“Yeah, but not in spirit.” Evan defended.

“I shower everyday?” Shelby said, confused.

“Yeah, no we’re not going with Gunk Lyf 69,” I said.

“Ughhhhhhhhh, fine, but can I be party leader?” Evan asked.

“What makes you think you should be party leader?” I asked.

“I have the highest intelligence. And I’m a wizard.” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m cool with that.” Shelby said.

“I’m not, I made the party, I get to lead it.” I said.

“But, like, you and Shelby wouldn’t even know each other if it wasn’t for me.”

“Yeah, that is true…” Shelby said. Evan and I were roommates freshman year of college, and he and Shelby- being the only non-white kids in their middle school- were childhood best friends.

“Yeah! I’m like the glue that holds us together,” Evan said.

“We were screaming at each other, like, 5 minutes ago. If anything, Shelby’s the glue.” I said.

“Does that mean I’m the leader?” Shelby asked excitedly.

“I’m cool with that,” Evan said, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, that works, I guess. I don’t see why we should change it up, though. It was working before,” I said.

“That’s because we didn’t have a leader, it was just you and me,” Shelby said.

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” I said. I didn’t really think a leader would do anything, I just didn’t want Evan to pull rank on me, because I would punch him in the face if he did.

“Yes!” Shelby said, pumping his fist. He immediately made a new party and invited us to it. The new icon was of a purple, flexing, muscular arm.

“Whoa, ‘Hunk Hunters Inc.?’ I didn't agree on that,” Evan whined.

“You did when you made me the leader,” Shelby said.

“Wait, are we hunting hunks, or hunks that hunt?” I asked.

“Uh-huh,” Shelby nodded.

“Aight.” I said.

“As my first act as party leader,” Shelby said, “you guys can’t fight ever again. I won’t allow it.”

Evan and I shared a look.

“Alright, deal.” I said.

“No promises,” Evan said. I threw my arm around his shoulders and pulled him in.

“Best friends,” I said with a smile. He glared at me but cracked a smile.

“And now, with our friendship restored, let’s go kill this boss.” Shelby said, and stepped onto Whittier Drive.

Evan hung back, “I don’t think I like this, the power’s going straight to his head.”

“Yeah, be happy he’s just making us be nice. It’s not like we’re doing his bidding,” I said, giving him a pointed look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just don’t trust how quickly you advocated for party leader,” I said.

“Oh, I didn’t really want to be the leader. I just didn’t want it to be you either,” he said, and followed Shelby, who was now stopped in the middle of the road.

“I think that’s our house,” Shelby said, pointing at the second house from the bottom. The other houses were long and straight, while ours was L-shaped and had a crack in the front door. Shelby and Evan had put that there after fighting with the shitty katanas they bought at some anime convention, Shelby’s broke on impact and went flying into the door. I confiscated Evan’s.

“We live on Whittier, doofus. No way that’s our house,” Evan said.

“So?” I said, stepping to join them, “What else has made sense about today?”

“Uh, yeah, okay, fair enough,” he admitted.

“Well, you guys wanna head in?” Shelby asked.

I looked around at the now empty lots along the curve, there was literally nothing else to do here. “Yeah,” I shrugged, “let’s go.”

The front door was unlocked, but reality froze for a second when I opened it. When time unfroze, a whole swarm of goonlets spawned inside of the house. They squawked loudly and rushed at us, but I slammed the door before any could get out.

I turned to my friends and shook my head, “let’s not go in there.”

“Goonlets?” Shelby asked as they thumped against the door I was holding shut with my body. I nodded.

Evan summoned his Minor Hand and made triple-finger guns at us, charging yellow energy at the finger tips.

“Step aside losers, let me show you the power of magic,” he said, a big smirk on his face.

“Alright, man, suit yourself,” I said and threw myself aside, letting the door fly open.

Evan made short work of, like, ten goonlets, scorching them to death with his new lightning spell and then frowned, having barely made a dent in the swarm of enemies funneling out the door. “Guys, I’m out,” he said, and materialized his sword from his inventory.

Taking the goonlets out into a wide open area made them a non-issue. Shelby took to his new spear very well, holding it almost like a broom as he swept through the encroaching crowd of goonlets. Much like our last encounter with them, he did the bulk of the killing, while Evan and myself pushed the little birds towards him. About 10 minutes later, we got through the horde.

“We didn’t even level up from this shit,” Evan pouted when we were done.

I shrugged, not wanting to entertain his complaining more than I had to.

“Yeah,” Shelby said, nodding, “goonlets suck. I hate fighting them. They’re just so little and I’m so big… they’re hard to reach.”

While they were talking, I was already on my way back to the house. I wanted to see if there was anything valuable on the first floor, hoping that more enemies would only spawn when we went up the stairs. The goonlets had trashed the living room, the couch and chairs were pecked to shit while the home’s entertainment center had been repurposed as a bathroom, despite there being a real bathroom literally 7 feet away. I gagged at the smell and kept on going.

There was a lone goonlet bathing in the kitchen sink. I didn’t even know these things knew to bathe. It struggled as I picked it up and punted it out the door, I figured Evan and Shelby would know what to do with it. I found a couple regular knives in the kitchen, which I pocketed, but the real treasure was in the fridge. The shelves were lined with bottles of blue, green, and red liquids, stocked to the brim like a frat house before a rush party.

“Evan,” I called, “I fixed your mana problem!” He and Shelby rushed in, awestruck by the amount of potions in the fridge. We ended up with five health and stamina potions each, while Evan took all but two of the mana potions, leaving one for each of us.

Lesser Mana Potion

Common Potion

Restores 10 MP.

Minor Stamina Potion

Common Potion

Restores 10 + (½ * Constitution) SP.

“Oh fuck yeah, dude,” Evan said after chugging a mana potion.

“What’s it taste like?” Shelby asked.

“Like, somewhere between blue raspberry and those really sweet grapes that Chris gets,” he said.

“Cotton candy grapes?” I said.

“Yeah, those ones.”

“They make cotton candy out of grapes?” Shelby asked incredulously. Evan and I shared a look and then side-eyed Shelby.

“Yeah,” Evan said.

“What do you think they made it out of? Marshmallows?” I asked.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“No- but-... I don’t know, man, I’m not a candyologist,” Shelby said, a little defensively.

“Hmm, I coulda told you that,” I said and made an exaggerated face.

Shelby gave me a suspicious look, “I don’t know if I believe you.”

Evan shrugged and said, “whatever, we should go upstairs. You guys ready?”

“Yeah,” I said, before Shelby could say anything else.

Shelby looked back and forth between me and Evan, and shrugged, “yeah, alright.”

We checked the rest of the rooms, but the only valuable thing we found was a bunch of sticky Playboys in what looked like a teenage boys room.

“What the fuck?” Evan muttered, flipping through a crusty magazine, “who even buys Playboy anymore?” The kid seemed to be a collector, having some from the 80s to 2020. Evan ripped open the centerfold and showed her to us.

“Nice,” I said with a thumbs up.

Shelby leaned in close and made a face, “are those real?”

Almost at the time, Evan and I both said “chat, is this real?” and the scoffed at each other.

“You guys are perfect for each other,” Shelby remarked. I smirked at Evan and cocked an eyebrow.

“Put that down,” Evan said and tossed the magazine at me.

“Ew,” I said, using [Flurry of Blows] to quickly knock it aside.

The staircase was awkwardly placed in the master bedroom, right in the middle of the room. Right when Shelby, leading the way, planted his foot on the first step, a new and much smaller horde of goonlets spawned and tumbled down the stairs. At the top of the stair, a creature that stood about chest-high stared down at us.

The looming Level 4 Suburbs Goon resembled a scaled-up goon with a dark hood pulled over its wrinkly bald head. Its red lips were pursed into a pout, and its eyes were more sunken and tired than ever. Instead of bulby, clubbed hands, it had three long spindly blades for fingers. The goon howled at us, staccato like a monkey, and swung itself, chicken-feet first, down at us. Shelby parried the goon with Lambo, whacking it onto the bed beside us, leaving himself open for the goonlets to tackle him.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop! Ow!” Shelby yelled as the small bird monsters pecked at him.

“Hey, get off of him!” Evan said and started poking at the goonlets with the point of his sword, skewering a few. The goon hopped to its feet and clacked its claws at me, cooing lightly.

“Alright, gooner, you freak me out. Time to die,” I said, drawing my knives and activating [Flurry of Blows] once more. With my heighted reaction speed, I was quick enough to block the goon’s attacks, but just barely. It smiled at me and clacked its teeth as if to say “you’re too slow.” In response, I took a half-step back and flung a knife straight into the goon’s rotund stomach.

The goon shouted in pain and my stamina filled back up thanks to [Red Siphon]. It lunged toward me, thrusting both arms forward at me. I dodged sideways, grabbed one of the goonlets swarming Shelby by its long neck, and slammed the goonlet on the goon’s head. The goon stumbled forward, dazed, and the goonlet’s neck broke with a sickening snap.

“Eugh, sorry dude,” I said and tossed the dead bird thing aside. Meanwhile, Evan and Shelby were handling the rest of the goonlets fine enough, Shelby was back on his feet, at least. His health was down to two-thirds, but I wasn’t really worried about him. Evan was squishy and not a good fighter, being a wizard was his best case scenario.

The goon snapped back to attention and hopped onto the bed. It started bouncing up and down, lashing out with its foot-talons when I tried to get close. I tried to throw my other knife at goon, but it lazily kicked the blade aside.

I cursed and grabbed the duvet, yanking right when the goon landed and knocking it onto its back.

“Ha-ha! Get magic tricked, bitch!” I said and lunged with the chef’s knife and paring knife I’d pilfered earlier. I landed with my knees on its arms. It scratched at me with its talons, but I tried not to let it bother me.

“Stop quipping and kill that thing!” Evan shouted at me.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I said, and stabbed the goon beneath me. “Besides,” I said, and pointed a bloody knife at him, “you’re one to talk, loser, where’s your power of magic now?”

The goon screamed at me again, angry that I wasn’t even paying attention while I killed it. I stabbed it until it stopped.

“Happy now?” I asked and stepped down from the bed. Shelby had the last goonlet in his hand and casually tossed it out of a window that had shattered during their fight. He gave me a thumbs up.

Evan didn’t answer me and instead pointed out that we leveled up. We didn’t have time to check out what we got before a fireball crashed through the opening in the ceiling, singeing us and igniting the king-sized bed. Two more goons screened loudly and bounded down the stairs, launching towards us with knife-fingers outstretched.

I kicked upwards with a strangled shout at the goon lunging toward me, catching it squarely in the chest. The kick did nothing to stop its momentum, but its health went down a little as it tackled me. The other goon went for Evan and currently had its arms over his shoulder, riding him piggy-back and stabbing at his chest.

“Get him off me!” Evan shouted at Shelby. Shelby grabbed the goon's wrist from behind and stretched out his arms, lifting the goon off of Evan. He stumbled back, turned, and slammed the goon onto the burning bed. With his back to the staircase, another bolt of fire came from upstairs and ignited Shelby’s recently-ruined hoodie.

“What the fuck!” Shelby growled angrily and tore off the burning sweater. Meanwhile, I was wrestling with the second goon, trying to keep it from stabbing my eyes out. I managed to get a hold on its wrists and- sacrificing my arms- planted my feet on its chest and pushed hard. I wasn’t able to rip its arms off like I had planned, instead, I flipped its torso while holding its arms in place, dislocating them from the goon’s shoulders. The goon bellowed in pain and I flung it off of me and climbed to my feet.

“When the hell did you guys become professional wrestlers?” Evan said, and then looked up the stairs, “fuck, nevermind, don’t answer that.”

At the top of the stairs, taunting us with a goofy dance, was another goon. Instead of a hood, however, its neck-foreskin-flesh was stretched into a wide pointy hat. Unlike the other goons, it didn’t have knife fingers, its hands were large orbs like the younger(? I don’t understand their lifecycle) goonlets. According to the nameplate above its head, it was a Level 5 Goonomancer.

“Holy shit,” I pointed, “they have an Evan.”

“Hey, fuck you, go kill your goon,” Evan said. The goon whose arms I dislocated was still writhing on the ground in pain. I felt kinda bad for it, and then took another good look at its face, and decided something like that has no place in our world. After recovering my knives from the ground and the dead goon, I put this one of its misery.

“Stop telling me what to do,” I said, “you’re not the party leader. Shelby is!”

“Yeah, fuck you Evan, go kill that wizard.” Shelby said, stabbing the burning goon with Lambo. The goonomancer was still dancing at the top of the stairs, hopping from one foot to the other and waving its arms around.

“Ugh,” Evan rolled his eyes, “whatever.” He loosed a Spark Shot at the goonomancer, who casually waved its arm and deflected the shot. It stuck its blue tongue at him.

“Oh fuck you, you bitch,” Evan said and started storming up the stairs. He immediately slipped and fell. The goonomancer howled with laughter and shot a fireball at the stairs, igniting the grease or oil that was coating it.

“Dude, stop getting Home Alone-d and focus!” Shelby commanded. We were just watching him try to deal with the goonomancer after killing “our” goons. Evan got to his feet and ran out of the room.

“Hey, come back, coward!” Shelby said. I followed Evan out of the room and watched him run to the kitchen, heard him rummage around, and then he came running back with a fire extinguisher.

“That’s not magic, wizard.” I said. He scoffed and pushed past me. Evan pulled the pin on the extinguisher and started putting out the staircase fire. Shelby and I stepped back and covered our mouths. We knew from experience fire extinguisher chemicals tasted awful; the last time Evan visited home, Shelby and I attempted a crawfish boil that went incredibly wrong. The smell of scorched shellfish was burnt into our walls for months.

With the fire out, the goonomancer tried casting another fireball at us, but Evan managed to extinguish it before it hit us. “How’s that for a counterspell?” Evan said to me smugly. I raised an eyebrow at him. Evan continued spraying the goonomancer with the extinguisher while climbing the stairs. When he ran out, he thwacked the bird wizard over the head with the extinguisher, knocking it out in one hit.

“Hey, Shelby,” Evan called from upstairs, “your room is ruined, dude.”

“Fuck, really?” Shelby asked and followed Evan up the stairs. Sure enough, the stairs led to Shelby’s room, which now had a huge hole in the floor and fire extinguisher fluid all over the place.

“At least my clothes are okay…” he said and opened up his closet. Like a cartoon character, he had multiple copies of the same red hoodie hanging up in his closet. He insists they’re different brands, as if that would make it any better. Besides, I haven’t seen any logos or tags on them, so I can’t confirm or deny that fact.

By this point, all three of us were filthy with goonlet blood and sweat and tears. About forty minutes later, we were all showered and in clean clothes. Shelby was still pouting when I came out of my room.

“That was my favorite sweater…” he muttered.

“Hey, what the fuck! That’s my sword!” Evan said, coming out of his room. He still had cargo shorts on, but now he was wearing an Evangelion shirt. The sword he was talking about was the katana he had gotten from the anime convention. I had pulled it out of my closet.

“I’ve confiscated it until you show me I can trust you with it,” I said.

“Fuck that, I’ve been using this sword and I’ve been fine,” he said, pulling out his shortsword.

“Hmmm, I don’t know, katanas and shortswords seem pretty different. What do you think, party leader?” I asked Shelby.

“I miss my sweater…” he said. I shrugged at Evan and inspected the katana in my inventory.

Shitty Mall Katana - Common Weapon

* +5 Dexterity

* +3 Strength

* +3 Charisma

* Fragile! 20% chance of breaking after every attack.

Level 5 was a big level for all three of us. I got a point in Dexterity, Evan got a point in Intelligence, and Shelby got a point in Constitution. Arcanist gave Evan a point in Constitution and a level in the Astrology skill. At first level, it just allowed him to innately recognize constellations and planets.

“This is so bullshit,” he complained, “you guys get new jobs and I just get to look at stars.”

Level 5 fighter gave Shelby a point in Strength and gave him a choice of three jobs to choose from: Knight, Gladiator, and Wrestler. We wouldn’t figure out the difference between Knight and Gladiator, because Shelby went for job 017 - Wrestler.

Wrestler

Level 0

General grappling job. Throws, takedowns, and finishers galore!

Level Bonuses:

Level 1: +1 Dexterity, +1 Level to Skill: Grapple, Unlock Job Ability [Pinfall]

Level 2: ???, ???

“Fuck yeah, dude, I am going to destroy every single goonlet. I hate those things.” Shelby said after switching to his new job. After learning about Wrestler, I saw that I would unlock the job at Pugilist level 10. Pugilist level 5, though, gave me a point in Strength and unlocked 009 - Monk. I switched to it immediately.

Monk

Level 0

For those seeking enlightenment through combat. Dexterity, Wisdom, and Martial Arts!

Level Bonuses:

Level 1: +1 Dexterity, +1 Level to Skill: Martial Arts, Unlock Job Ability [Airwalk]

Level 2: ???, ???

We were pulled back into action by a loud crash from the floor above us, like the sound of glass breaking, and then a thud from below us, just outside of the house. Evan, the closest to a window, stuck his head out, “oh fuck, Lizanne!”

Lizanne’s body was lying broken in the driveway, blood pooling beneath her. An agonized wail came from upstairs. Evan looked at me, worry in his eyes, “Mallory!”