“It’s ... a squash racket,” I said.
“That it is,” the FAST replied, seemingly just as nonplussed.
“Why?”
“I have no idea.”
“I don’t even play squash. I play racquetball.”
“Aren’t they the same thing?”
“Not really.” I glanced toward the FAST than back at the racket. On the flipside, I had been warned that when faced with the choice between fairness and entertainment, the showrunners weren’t above fucking over a chaser for a cheap laugh. If this didn’t prove that point, I didn’t know what did.
Guess I should get this over with so I have at least a few minutes to prepare for my imminent demise.
Banshee Racket
Is there anything better than smashing the crap out of a pebble with an oversized flyswatter, only to then watch it fall limply to the ground like a dead duck? Why yes. There’s a shit ton of things better than that. Too bad this is what you’re stuck with, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing, sport.
Forged from the collective anger of every player who’s ever wished they’d taken up badminton instead, this racket seethes with unbridled vengeance – giving you a chance to turn even the friendliest of games into a bloody death match whether on the court or off.
Note: this item functions as both a melee and ranged weapon – ammunition not included.
+15 to Strength
Special Ability: Second Chance Backhand
Special Ability: Screaming Shot
“The strength bonus is nice,” the FAST said. “Let’s see what those abilities do. Maybe this isn’t as useless as it looks.”
“You don’t know?” I asked, curious since it seemed to have a lot more answers than I did.
It flitted back and forth in what I assumed to be a negative gesture. “Not off the top of my nonexistent head. As I said, I have limited access to past Chases. If they ever handed out anything like this before, I don’t have access to it.”
“Fair enough.” I grabbed hold of the racket, noting that it felt a lot more solid than it looked. Thanks to modern manufacturing techniques most rackets nowadays tended to be made out of lightweight materials. Not so with this puppy. It may have looked like something you’d find hanging up at a Modell’s or DICK’s but there was some serious heft behind it.
However, within a second or two of picking it up, that weight seemed to decrease a bit in my hand as the strength bonus was applied to my stats – bringing it up to 75. Okay, that was kinda neat.
Who needed a gym membership when you could just grab an item that amped you up? It was pretty freaking... Whoa!
There came an abrupt clanking, a grinding noise that filled the tavern, drowning out whatever I’d been saying. Then, before I could make sense of what was happening, we found ourselves no longer alone.
A small horde of people had appeared all around us.
It was insane. Within the space of a second we found ourselves surrounded, and these newcomers did not look happy.
***
They had all come from seemingly nowhere. No doors had opened. There hadn’t been any footsteps. It was like they’d literally risen from the floor. I spied thugs in medieval garb, brigands, armed knights, and even a few Vikings. Holy crap! Every single one of them was staring our way with snarls and sneers etched upon their faces.
Won’t lie. I nearly pissed myself.
What the fuck had happened to our remaining half hour? I turned, seeing nothing but angry stares all around, certainly that at any moment they would...
“Relax, Scooby-Doo,” the FAST said. “Take a deep breath and actually think before you freak the fuck out.”
The FAST’s calm voice was in stark contrast to my current state of, well, freaking the fuck out, but a moment later I realized something. Not a single member of the crowd that had appeared had moved so much as a muscle.
They hadn’t even blinked as far as I could tell.
As I tried to keep my heart from pounding out of my chest, I took a closer look.
It was only then that I realized they weren’t real. They were just images overlaid onto wooden frames. It had seemed like they’d risen up from the floor, because that’s exactly what had happened.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
In a way it was sort of like that scene at the beginning of Men in Black when Will Smith first visited the MIB office, minus the guns and other applicants.
“What the hell is this all about?” I finally asked once I was sure I wouldn’t die of a heart attack.
“You equipped your weapon, Tim. Doing that activates them. It’s supposed to give you a chance to test things out a bit.”
“Wait, you knew that was going to happen?”
“Of course,” the FAST said.
“And you didn’t say anything because...?”
“Because then I would’ve been robbed of the look on your face as your shit your pants.”
Asshole.
Now that I was calm, this was starting to make perfect sense. Still would’ve been nice to know, especially considering how lifelike the portraits appeared.
I walked up to one of the Vikings and flicked it in the nose with my finger, half expecting to feel flesh. Instead, I merely heard the dull thud of plywood.
Screw it. Maybe it wasn’t too late to save a little of my self-esteem.
Stepping next to the Viking cutout, I lifted the racket in both hands and struck my best Conan the Barbarian pose. “How do I look?”
“Like Saul Goodman decided to quit law and become a low rent tennis pro.”
Sadly, between the sneakers, sweater, and now this, they probably had a point. I was beginning to sense a theme here.
Rather than waste time dwelling on the ridiculousness of the situation, I took a step back and focused on the racket’s special abilities.
Thankfully, these were likewise free of Drega’s commentary, doubly so since I noticed that the text descriptions mostly lacked his asshole editorials. Maybe the deeper nuts and bolts of this game weren’t meant for the audience’s entertainment. Thus filling them with flavor text was unnecessary.
Whatever the case, Second Chance Backhand appeared to be for up close combat. On a clean miss, focusing on the weapon would instantly reverse my momentum back the way it had come – effectively allowing two tries at smashing a foe for the price of one.
I was curious to test that one out, so I stepped up and took a swing at one of the brigands. It must’ve been more balsa wood than plywood because it broke in half the second I hit it. Cool as that was, it did nothing to help me test that ability – since, of course, an inanimate cutout couldn’t dodge. So then how was I supposed to...?
I grinned as I turned toward the FAST.
“Don’t even think about it,” it warned, no doubt sensing my intent. “PVP is disabled so that crap won’t fly. Not only that, but we’re in a safe zone. Combat between players, mobs, or NPCs, is a hard no. So go back to playing with your sex dolls and leave me out of it.”
So much for that idea. Tempting as it was to try anyway, I remembered what had happened to Borlack. Being mindful of our rapidly dwindling time, I simply nodded and moved on.
Screaming Shot was apparently where the racket got its name. Using the racket as, well, a racket, I could apparently lob projectile ammo at a foe. In addition to any extra damage the strength bonus afforded, it also added additional sonic based damage with a tiny chance to outright stun an enemy.
Potentially super useful if I could make it work. There was a note cautioning that using it also negated any non-magical stealth effects, but since that was something I wasn’t even aware I could do it probably didn’t matter much.
“Okay, while that does sound cool, right now it’s kinda useless,” I said when I was done reading.
“How do you figure?” the FAST asked.
“It says in the description I need ammo, which it specifically didn’t come with. Hell, it doesn’t even say what kind of ammo to use.”
“That’s actually a good thing.”
“How do you figure?”
Rather than answer, the FAST floated past of few of the cutouts to behind the tavern’s bar. It ducked down for a moment or two. When it appeared again, it had a trio of pewter mugs floating alongside it.
“Think fast,” it said as one of the mugs came flying my way, just as surely as if it had been tossed to me.
Neat trick.
I caught it, noting the heft. “What am I supposed to do with this? Drown my sorrows?”
“No, stupid. When you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail, right? Well, when you have a racket, why not view everything as a tennis ball?”
“Squash ball,” I corrected.
“Whatever the fuck. Just toss it in the air and take a swing. We’re almost out of time here.”
This was stupid, but they had a point about the time. Rather than argue, I lobbed the mug into the air and whacked it with the racket.
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve expected a giant nothing burger of the heavy mug falling to the ground, probably accompanied by the shattered head of the now broken racket.
But these were far from normal times. Instead, the mug blasted across the room as if shot by a canon. There came an ear-splitting whine of sound, almost like a miniature sonic boom, and then it slammed into the far wall – blowing a dinner plate sized hole through the wood and sending splinters flying.
“Holy shit!”
“Holy shit is right,” the FAST said. “Now try it again, but this time actually aim. How about at that knight over there?”
It lobbed another mug my way. I caught it and looked at the target it had indicated. A knight in gleaming silver armor stood about twenty feet away situated in front of a thick support beam. I’d never been particularly good with called shots before, but he represented a good sized target.
Nothing ventured...
Once again, the mug went rocketing away with a whine of sound ... only to miss the knight by a good four feet and blow another hole in the wall. Shit!
“Nice shot, Robin Hood.”
I turned toward the FAST, prepared to tell it to go fuck itself, only to find the third mug already headed my way.
“This time,” it said, “go into your HUD and turn on Aim Assist.”
“Aim assist?”
“Yep. It gives you a 75% accuracy boost for ranged attacks but with a corresponding 30% damage reduction. Trust me, that’s not a bad tradeoff until you can get your Dexterity high enough to compensate.”
“Sure, why not.” At this point I wasn’t about to discount anything, so I focused on that until a checkbox came up labeled Aim Assist. I mentally checked it which caused a tiny crosshairs reticle to appear in my vision.
Here goes nothing. I lined up the crosshairs with the knight’s head and let fly with the final mug.
Crack!
Holy crap! This time I hit it dead on. Not only did the knight’s head explode from the impact, but I’d managed to gouge a chunk out of the beam behind it. Hopefully it wasn’t load bearing.
It made me wonder what might’ve happened had I managed to hit it without that damage reduction.
“Not too shabby,” the FAST said. It let me enjoy the moment for roughly twenty seconds before adding, “Okay, that’s your shit out of the way. Time for us to move on.”
“Oh? Does that meant you’ll finally stop being a dick and actually answer my...?”
“Not quite,” it interrupted. “I know you probably have tons of questions and we’ll get to whatever we have time for, but I meant that it’s my turn now.”
“Your turn?”
“Of course. I’m a member of your party, too, remember? That means you need to get me ready for the Chase as well. Unless, that is, you’d rather I just float idly behind you until such point as you get your stupid monkey ass killed.”