"Oh, shit!" I muttered under my breath. "Wee Wee?"

"In the flesh," he answered nonchalantly.

"What the hell? How? Why? Who?"

"That's a lot of questions, but you're not ready for the answers," he said, placing a small towel over his head, closing his eyes, and spreading his legs. I was at a huge disadvantage...

"How are you even real?" I asked.

"Oh, that one's easy. If someone spreads a legend about some kind of god, they become real. Your friend Fabio started it, but legends grow."

“I Can see…"

"What was that?”

"Nothing... But why did you choose me as your paladin?"

"It just feels right for my creator to be my paladin, no? I mean, it is your fault that I'm in this situation."

"What kind of situation?"

"I'm a small god. I don't have followers to spread my word, just you and a small village down south. They're mostly women. It's a fun tribe; you should visit sometime."

"I'll keep that in mind..." I shook my head after picture this tribe and trying to focus again in the conversation. "And what do you expect of me? What do you want me to do?"

"Oh, the usual. Fight some monsters, pray for me, for women, food, and a few extra inches," he said, grabbing between my legs, "you know, the usual."

"I didn't come here to be harassed!" I stood up.

"Sit down..." he said, his eyes still closed. "I'm sorry for that, but it is factually your fault. You made me."

"Yeah, and you were a joke."

"No one's laughing now," he said seriously, looking me in the eye. "I'm as real as you. I'm here, feeling the warmth of this water, just like you."

"I don't want to worship a god like you."

Stolen story; please report.

"Tough luck. But it's not all a lost cause. The legend you created, you made me this way. You just have to spread another legend that I'm more polite. It's not really that hard."

"What? I can alter the mythos of a god?"

"Not all gods, just me. As I said, I'm a small god. I don't have a mythos per se, just legends. And some higher-ups thought it would be funny to stick me with you. Now, we have to make some omelets with these two broken eggs and sausage."

"Can you please stop with the dick jokes?"

"Sure. As soon as you start making new ones."

"I get it," I sighed, sitting back in the water. "How do we start?"

"Good! No more foreplay..." He grinned. "First of all, I need you to get stronger, so get your head out of your ass and do your job. Second, I need you to teach my ways to those you encounter."

"You want me to become some kind of preacher?"

"Not exactly. I need more people to know my name and what I do. Fertility isn’t just for people, you know."

"I'm well aware, I made you."

"So you should know that crops are a great way to convince common folks to worship a fertility god," he said with a wink.

"Yeah, I get what you're saying. So I just need to preach your good name..."

"Without the dick jokes," he interrupted.

"...without the dick jokes, to farmers and people in need of fertility? That's all?"

"And get stronger in the process. I know you have doubts about this whole thing, and I get it, but you need to get your head in the game. Your party needs you as much as I need you. Your powers may come from me, but I only exist through you. We're stuck together, like two balls in a..."

"I get it!" I interrupted him this time. "I thought you didn’t want any more dick jokes."

"I don't," he shrugged, "but you made me this way." He smiled and faded away, leaving me alone in the bathhouse.

I stayed in the water until I felt dizzy from the heat. Both Wee Wee and Bea were right—I needed to get my head straight. I didn’t know how to escape this reality or get back home, but my friends needed me, and I needed them. If I sulked the whole time, I’d end up alone.

As I was walking away, more people started entering the bath. I overheard complaints about crops and how they had to save up all week just to take a bath. I heard about how the seeds weren’t taking, and they had to buy new ones every time.

I took a deep breath and approached one of the farmers, my shield hanging low on my arm.

“Excuse me, have you heard about Wee Wee?”

“Wee Wee? As in...” He pointed down.

“Yes. He’s the reason it has this name. You see, he’s the god of fertility and…”

I spent half an hour explaining how my made-up god could help them with their harvest. Some of them were quick to make dick jokes, while others were genuinely interested. I swallowed my pride and spread the gospel of Wee Wee. After they understood and believed some of the lies I had to tell to explain why Wee Wee wasn’t a major deity, I left them to their cleaning and relaxation. I had already had my bath and didn’t want to intrude further. Still, something kept me lingering longer than I intended, listening to them discuss my pitch. One sentence stuck with me:

“If he’s so good at making things reproduce, why is his clergy so small? I’d think they’d be booming by now…”

He had a point. I couldn’t argue with that. But after all my efforts, I could only mutter to myself, “What a dick.”