“Whatcha yelling for woman?” Farmer Till hollered back as he struggled to pull on his pants while coming down the stairs.
“YOU GOT SOME NERVE YELLING AT ME.” Bessie yelled back with such ferocity making Till freeze in place. He could tell he was in serious trouble but wasn’t too sure why. His eyes searched for an answer before noticing the stolen pack of cigarettes poking out of Max’s pocket.
“Bessie, I’m a grown man. If I want a cig every now and then…” His voice died after seeing Bessie’s rage increase in her face as she tilted her head to the side from the newest confession. His panicked eyes searched for an answer, pleading for Max to help. “It’s not my fault if you found Max smoking.” Prick. Trying to throw Max under the bus in order to save his own skin.
Cy finally emerged from the other room, where he had been sleeping on the ancient couch that was older than everyone in the room. Wearing light clothing, his stupid cloak that he never took off, and a mud mask from the capital on his face; he yawned before whispering to Max. “What did he do this time?” After spending so much time at the farmhouse, he had gotten used to the screaming matches in the middle of the night. Max ignored him as he kept his eyes fixed on the fight in front of him.
“What’s this I hear about you making Max do your work?” Bessie’s voice had lowered in volume, but somehow it increased in scariness. Max and Cy had never seen her so furious before.
Farmer Tiller’s frantic eyes kept looking at Max and Cy for help before taking a deep breath and committing to his death. “You know about my bad knee!” Bessie’s head tilted a little more. His confidence dropped from his voice. “I… I can’t keep going all the way to the village. It’s too far for me to walk.”
“Too far for you to walk?” Bessie repeated with a sceptical voice as she walked into the kitchen. The three men exchanged panicked looks as they heard a drawer open while she kept muttering. “Oh, dearie me. What are we going to do with your poor, old knee?”
Cy let out a small squeak when he saw Bessie emerge from the kitchen with a meat cleaver. “That really is a shame, Bill. But you know what happens around here when someone gets a lame leg.”
“I’m not a cow, woman!”
Story Name:
Pig Farmers
Genre:
Horror
Description:
After murdering Bill, Bessie and the MC decide to cover up the crime by starting a pig farm.
Goal:
Ensure Bessie doesn’t get arrested.
Difficulty:
★★☆☆☆
How to Start:
Aid Bessie with the murder!
Bessie tested the sharpness of the cleaver with her thumb. The sound caused a shiver down three spines. “You should know better than anyone else. Everyone on this farm needs to work or needs to go.”
Farmer Bill let out a forced laugh as he began dramatically slapping his knees in a painful way. “I was just messing with you and Max! I’m as fit as a fiddle!”
“You are? But are you fit enough to make it all the way to the village?”
“Sure I am! I could go right now!”
Bessie opened the front door. “Okay, off you go then.”
Farmer Till looked out into the dark night. “It’s too early to go now? And Max hasn’t gathered the milk, or fed the cows, or…” Bessie didn’t say anything as she held the door open for him. Till gave another nervous chuckle as the prompt from the system vanished. “I’ll go do it for him before heading off to the village. As a thank you for going to the village for me.”
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“That’s very nice of you for offering to do it for a whole week.”
“A whole week!?!”
“A whole week.”
“A whole week.” Till gave a forced smile as he shot an angry glare towards Max, who only shrugged. “I better get started to make sure Liv has everything for when she opens the village shop.”
“Good idea.” Bessie finally smiled. With the tension slightly relieved, farmer Tiller pulled on his trousers properly. He was about to pass through the door frame, when Bessie reminded him, “Remember, Max and Cy left Elder at the village. You’re going to have to move quickly to get everything done, fetch Elder from the village, and return with all the goods before the sun comes up.”
Tiller looked for help from Max and Cy. All of the panicked expressions seemed to have chipped away at the endurance of their silver-tongued guest. “Bessie. Let’s be reasonable,” Cy said with a charming smile that was only marred by his mud mask. “It’s the middle of the night. Why doesn’t Bill do it in the morning?” Farmer Bill gave an emphatic nod to show he would stay true to his word.
“I didn’t know you ran this farm, Cy.”
Cy realised he fucked up quickly. “No! No. I’m not saying I run this farm-”
“I hear from some of the villagers that you’ve been advertising your fortune telling business to MY customers.” The reflection of Bessie’s cleaver shifted from showing farmer Till to Cy’s mud covered face.
Story Name:
???
Genre:
???
Description:
After an entire village turns against a hidden magician, the world falls into chaos as a power struggle takes root.
Goal:
???
Difficulty:
★★★★★
How to Start:
Cy dies.
“It’s not a job! I usually don’t get any money from it. I just thought it was a good way to get to know everyone.”
Bessie glared at him for a few seconds before turning to Till. “You’re in luck, Bill. It seems like Cy is dying to assist you with all your jobs.”
Cy stared at Bessie with disbelief. Max watched him as he trembled slightly. Do it. Be stupid and say something. Max mentally encouraged him. Bessie probably wouldn’t kill him, but the bigger issue was Cy being on course to head back into the village unsupervised. Seeing him get a little deflated, Max decided mental encouragement wasn’t enough. “Wow. You don’t even work here,” Max whispered.
He could practically hear the snap. “Now, hold on Bessie! I am a vet sent from the kingdom to help identify your sick cows.” Cy puffed up his chest and was unconsciously starting to raise his voice. On the other hand, Bessie watched him calmly. “I’m not some farmhand like Max. You can’t just order me around.”
“Is that so?” Bessie asked, unimpressed. She slammed the cleaver into the front door, wedging it in place, before suddenly leaving into the night.
The moment Bessie was out of sight, farmer Till gave Cy a pat on the shoulder. “It’s been good knowing ya, lad. Want anything done in your memory?”
Cy was lost for words as he began to realise how much trouble he was in. “We’ll have a couple of shots of whiskey in your name,” Max added with a grin. Cy wasn’t dying tonight. Max would rather intervene before Bessie took it too far and let the five-star story start. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun watching him sweat.
“Don’t say that!” Cy cried in a panic. “What should I do?”
“Beg.”
“Offer money”
“Or free labour.”
The three fell silent when they heard Bessie’s evenly paced footsteps approaching the farmhouse. Unconsciously, they stood with straight backs as they waited for their fate to be handed to them. They jumped in surprise as the door swung open and a shovel filled with cow dung landed at Cy’s feet. The impact caused it to splatter the stool all over the floor, walls, furniture, and Cy. “Right, Mr. ‘Vet.’ You can pick that up and get to work cleaning up all the fields.”
Cy looked at the others in disbelief. Even Max and farmer Tiller were at a loss for words. “You can’t…” Cy began instinctively before quickly closing his mouth. He was beginning to learn his lesson.
“I can’t?” Bessie provoked, but it wasn’t working this time. “As a ‘vet,’ you should have no problem with such a simple task, right?” It was finally dawning on Cy that his lie of being a vet was being questioned.
“That’s right-”
“Only you’re not a vet, are you? You’re no more a vet than I am a noble lady.” The irony was not lost on Max, who struggled to contain his smile. “So, you’ve been freeloading on my farm, making money without paying the village taxes, impersonating being an official servant of the king-”
“But I am-”
“But you’re what?” Bessie prodded. Cy was stuck. Max was wondering if he was going to cave and admit he was a magician. “Well?” She provoked again when she wasn’t answered. Cy held firm with his mouth shut. “Then here’s what you’ve going to do. Since you love spewing bullshit so much, you’re going to go out there and shovel up all the shit in those fields. Then you’re going to go to Andy’s sheep farm and shovel up all of his shit. Then you’re going to take the piles of shit to Bernadette’s farm for her chickens to eat any bugs in the shit. Then you’re going to get all the chicken, sheep, and cow shit, bag it up, and start selling it as fertiliser to the crop farmers. You are not to go back into the village until it’s all sold. Are we clear?” Max couldn’t see any colour in Cy’s face. He could tell he was close to fainting when he nodded. “And when you’re not shovelling shit, you’re cleaning up this mess.” She gestured to the splatter around the room. “Anything else you want to say now?”
Cy only managed to squeak out, “Thank you.” His shaky hand picked up the shovel at his feet.
“And Max.” He held his breath. There was a harsh punishment for Tiller and Cy, and he hadn’t forgotten he had been caught smoking under her roof. “Congratulations. You seem a little stressed, so take a week of vacation. Keep up the good work and we’ll have no problem with you living here long term.”
Max couldn’t quite hear his ears, but he smiled as he nodded to show his understanding. Almost three months of hard work for one week of holiday? Not a bad deal.