The most apt description of the advertising campaign that led up to the fourth episode of The Slighty-Late Show with Zune Tee-em would be “incredibly violent.” Afterall, it was Eden, and it goes without saying that there were muggings about. Indeed, the people of Eden did learn (rather quickly) why one should not mug I’mos. Still, it was a frustrating occupational hazard for the I’mos, who were growing rather annoyed with the absurd kobold who was to sell the legendary sword Bonesplitter.

“Wait, valiant (and very attractive) narrator. Why did the I’mos not attack Killer-throatslitter-taxevasion-littering back at the set of The Slightly-Late Show?” you ask.

Well, dear reader, it certainly was not for a lack of consideration on Crowhead’s part. Indeed, he had strongly considered the part, but he also recognized Killer-throatslitter-taxevasion-littering and understood (vaguely) the dangers of trying to apprehend it. Death would have been incredibly likely, and although Crowhead was a big fan of death as a theme of the “Quality Literature” he partook in (he quite enjoyed the little death), it was not a fate he could ask his siblings to risk. Plus, he wasn’t actually a leader in any traditional sense, and hated leaving plot holes unpaved.

And so, rather than fight the cursed blade forged by some guy three thousand years ago, whose hobbies were death and throat-slitting, Crowhead figured that he would follow the “good plan” Father Milton had no-doubt devised. And while Father Milton certainly had a good something, a plan would require any amount of actual foresight, something of which (ever since “the incident”) the good holy father had been distinctly lacking (much to Brestmylc’s disappointment). Still, Father Milton was correct that Eden’s best chances of survival lasted in the hands of Zune, whether or not that damn sword realized it or not.

And this is why, believing utterly in Father Milton’s plan, Crowhead and the I’mos continued their advertising campaign with the kind of holy fervor that can only come from stagehands, baristas, and punk rockers. And by the end of it, so many muggers had been injured that the crime right dropped to a historic low of 108.5%. A new record! In any other city, there would be much rejoicing, but much continued like normal.

The I’mos’ ad-campaign was moderately successful, and certainly more would have attended had the I’mos siblings not un-mugged themselves with extreme expertise.

Langley Pinkerton, Cleopatra Bingley, Father Milton, and Ragnar Son of Mad Titan Uroskyn and the Twelve Harpies of Winter, on the other hand, were having a much less violent time with their Advertising campaign. Partially, because the quartet knew going around town holding paper (the perfect substance for counterfeiting currency) was a terrible idea. And, partially, because the quartet was out of money from their abeyance from criminal acts, so there was nothing to mug about in the first place.

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Their ad-campaign mostly involved them getting lunch My Cat Ate my Son (Don’t Ask). The owner, whose name was Gretchen, agreed to show up to the show…so long as the quartet kept consistently paying for their meals. And that was the end of the quartet’s advertising campaign, which (frankly) was utter shit.

The most successful, by far, was Killer-throatslitter-taxevasion-littering’s. Puppeting Real Galadhorn’s body to every double, triple, and quadruple-stacked saloon in town, the cursed sword’s ad campaign was perfect. The pitch: flawless (for the kind of audience Eden was at the time).

“Who wants to watch a kobold cry for twenty minutes, and then die? Also, there will be free beer!” Killer-throastslitter would immediately ask, upon walking into each saloon. Once there was much rejoicing had about free beer, the cursed sword stole several kegs from behind the bar, and walked out.

This very much angered everyone, and immediately they began the long walk to the set of The Slightly-Late Show to give Real Galadhorn a piece of their mind, nearly walking over the runaway letters from the title of chapter 16 in the process. (Note: Don’t worry, we’ll get to what they’ve been up to soon. The death of “E” has been rough on them, and out of respect for their privacy I thought it best to wait.)

There were also those that were so angry with Real Galadhorn that they challenged him (technically Killer-throastslitter, not that they knew) to a duel. And, just as in any proper and professional advertising campaign, these dissenters were quickly dispatched in order to save money on the advertising budget.

Overall, the ad-hoc advertising campaign was very successful. Of the potential viewing audience of three thousand, seven hundred and thirteen were injured, eight seven were killed, five hundred decided to go watch the show because “what the hell! Why not?’ and seventeen hundred decided they had less idiotic things to do than to be around Real Galadhorn when he (apparently) was in a murderous mood.

Zune, for his credit, was pleased as punch when he heard these numbers. Never had he imagined such a successful advertising campaign. Such a high level of fatalities was unheard of back in the warrens. However, like any good talk show host, Zune did not let the numbers go to his head. He dismissed the I’mo acting as his assistant, swallowed a particularly cromulent rat, and began to work on his interview on the show.

“Oh, if only the backdrop were painted…” he muttered to himself, staring at the blank canvas set piece.

He gave a silent prayer to Guy Blanco. He was going to need it for his first hostile guest. More than he realized.