Peter
As I finished up another day of work, it was once more time to unwind at Bob’s bar. Like every night I entered and, without even having to do more than lift a finger, Bob poured me a glass as I sat down and waited. It wasn’t long before Paul came in looking like he had had another long day dealing with his boss and as Bob sat down another glass in front of him, he wasted no time in sharing.
“Welp, once more my boss froze in front of the cameras. I’m sure by this time tomorrow the news media will have spun it into another story about seizures or some other medical ailment.”
“At least your boss can remember how to vote. We still have to remind ours every 15 minutes what they’re supposed to be doing. They get so used to being so important that they can’t believe they can’t do the job anymore.”
“No, I don’t think any of them really do the job. They all get handed what their position is by their party leaders on nine out of ten issues. Problem is my boss is supposed to be one of those.”
“So was mine until it got so bad that it couldn’t be hidden anymore. Perhaps yours will be forced to take a step back soon enough.”
“Would be nice. Anyway. are you going to do a run tonight?”
“Maybe, if we don’t have anyone else coming to do one.”
“Oh, so if I go, you won’t?”
“Paul, we both know you only run a dungeon twice a month and you already hit that this month.”
“Yeah, well, if we keep on chasing off potential newbies, soon enough it’s just going to be us and a few others that are still coming here. If we’re not careful, Bob might just ban us from coming back.”
“He won’t do that, because he knows if he did, it would just make things worse for him.”
As I said that in walks one of my least favorite people who have recently started coming to the bar. At level 5, Dave was that complete man whore. The idiot always acted like the jukebox was there for him to enjoy some sexy times as he talked about looking for boner jams. Still, he had lasted longer than most simply by reaching level 5, as only around one in eight made it that far.
“All right, it’s time to make some money!” shouted Dave. “Bobby my man, you got my token?”
Bob just rolled his eyes as he tossed a token on to the bar counter, not wanting to even entertain the idiot any more than necessary. Dave, for his part, just smiled as he picked up the token and started walking over to the jukebox like he owned the world. With him having been in here the last four weeks straight, I wondered if the idiot was just blowing through his money that fast or if he really did enjoy the jukebox so much as I spoke before he could put this token in.
“Would it kill you to take this even slightly seriously?”
“What’s that Peter boy? You don’t think I’m taking this seriously, nah dog, I’m serious about this. Serious about getting my boner jams on, that is! It took everything I had not to pick this song last week after I leveled up, and now I’m gonna enjoy me some sexy time.”
“You know that’s not how it works,” stated Paul. “The jukebox is going to design those things to kill you, not get you laid every time.”
“Speak for yourself. I just think you haven’t been picking the right songs, old man. Tell me how many songs have you cleared again?”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“494,” retorted Paul. “You’re still on song number five, so I would think I would know a bit more than you.”
“Yeah, you’re still not level 21. Is that cause this bar has never gotten that high, or because you just let someone else handle it?”
“Paul just ignored him,” I cut in. “If he wants to get himself killed by trying to fuck his way through every dungeon, let him. I just hope that he finds himself having to fuck a cockroach.”
“Gross man, though I suppose if my eyes were closed, and it still felt good-”
“Either get to the dungeon or leave,” interrupted Bob. “I don’t need to have such images forced upon me.”
Dave just chuckled slightly as he turned and slit his token into the jukebox and selected a song. As I’m sexy I know it by LMFAO started to play, the three of us all groaned.
“How the hell did that guy survive four dungeons?” grumbled Paul. “I mean, sure, I’ve gone through one or two that would see me having to turn on the charm, but seriously, he’s been four for four talking about banging his way through it.”
“The rules aren’t the same for everyone,” stated Bob, with a sour look. “Sometimes you get people like him, while being complete scum can actually bend the dungeon to fit his will. So, as much as he pisses me off, I’m not about to kick him out.”
“Do you have to let him give us a blow by blow after each one of them?” I asked, feeling exasperated.
“Yes, because it’s the only place he can talk about it. Think about it, you get to experience what could best be described as a completely idealized fantasy and you can’t tell anyone about it. At least not if you want to be believed, now are you diving tonight or not?”
“Just the piss water tonight.”
“Peter, you only even do a single freaking dungeon a month the way you go,” retorted Paul. “I mean sure, you always make sure to keep a dungeon from leveling up each time, but if Bob’s kick anyone out it’s going to be you.”
“Whatever, Bob. Can I get some of those chicken wings tonight?”
“Sure, just don’t stay here all night and scare off my customers.”
“Sorry, but not going to let you kill half of DC to find another one of those idiots,” I stated, gesturing to the unisex bathroom that Dave had just disappeared in. “I mean sure, four dungeons in four weeks is impressive, but if you only get 20 tokens a week, how sustainable is that?”
“Here? Very,” retorted Bob. “After all, there are only 22 of you who actually dive at least once a month and I get 20 tokens a week. If anything, I wish you hadn’t convinced that idiot to only dive once a week at most when he first showed up.”
“Yeah right, you and I both know that repeated diving is the fastest way to an early grave.”
“So is letting that jukebox win and I tend to think that’s what you’re doing sometimes.”
“Peter dropped it,” cut in Paul. “Bob had five tokens that weren’t even used last week. Even I think he needs to get more new blood in here.”
“Then why do you keep helping me convince newbies to go bark-up another tree.”
“Simple, I agree that they ought to know what they’re getting into before they go get themselves killed. What happened to the guy last night isn’t how things should go.”
“Yet, he was only the second newbie that made an attempt this month,” retorted Bob. “I’m only a few of you idiots making a fatal mistake, away from really being in trouble.”
“What are you saying those level 21 guys wouldn’t come in and-”
“You don’t want people above level 19 handling anything below level 18,” interrupted Bob, before I could finish speaking. “You may not think it’s possible, but I’ve seen a level 21 diver fail a level one dungeon and that is never pretty.”
“Why the hell would they even be in a level 1 dungeon?”
At my question, Bob gave me a hard look before responding.
“Every now and then, I get an idiot who wants to monopolize all of my tokens and well, when there’s nothing but level 1 songs in the jukebox, what else are they going to challenge?”
“What were they running 20 songs the moment you got your tokens in?”
“That’s exactly what the idiot was doing, creating a right mess when he died. Three others died trying to clean it up.”
It was just then that a skinny dude who looked lost wandered into the bar and before anyone could say anything, the cat had already jumped onto the counter nearest the new arrival. As the three of them watched the cat sniff curiously, the guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of cat treats and offered a few on an outstretched hand. Seeing the cat eating them, Bob smiled as he started to make his way over to the new arrival and I just shook my head and went back to drinking my beer, as I hoped Bob hadn’t forgotten my chicken wings.