"Oh fuck me with a double edged saddle covered in spikes how much did I drink last night?" Cracking open my eyes, I filter through the blur...mhm, I am at home at least I can recognise the neon yellow wallpaper. And a picture of Phillip's tits, yeah ok I'm home...how I got here I don't have the foggiest and hey I took off my clothes before bed, great!

*sniff*

Wait something smells funny....oh it smells good...oh no it smells good

"Oh I heard a groan, guess someone's awake for morning pancaaaakes" A light and chipper voice zips through the open doorway of my bedroom and following comes a shortstack, 5' cute brunette with a pigtail reaching her lower back and wearing nothing but one of my band t-shirts.

Oh shit who is she.

"Morning" Rubbing my eyes and breathing out heavily, I sit up with a groan, accentuated when she bounds into bed with a kiss, arms latching around me.

"I've made us pancakes!" She yelps into my ear as her weight pushes me back into lying "I hope you're hungwy because I'm gonna feed you till you're nice a fat ehe" she forcefully nuzzles my nose, then leaps off zooming back into the kitchenI mean

I've remembered her about 20 seconds and she's already fucking annoying....haaaaaaah...I wonder if I can jump out my window.

Yeah fuck it I can't deal with this so early on.

Rolling out of bed, I supress a groan, grab my strewn pants and a clean shirt from the chairdrobe, sneak on some shoes and crack open my window.

Down we go the water pole and land mostly steadily on the street. right, I think I need a drink.

Sauntering down the street, squinting at the morning sun I wave off a couple of kids playing footie on the street shouting for 'mister to come play'. No fuck off midgets.

["Good morning Devon this is your news anchor Dave Borena telling you that today is going to be a fine da-"]

More like Dave bore others to death. Quickening my pace past the electronics shop playing that awful morning show it takes only a few more minutes to get to my local pub.

"Morning Merg" I garble as I sway in, making a beeline for my usual seat. Almost collapsing on it, I smack the bar with a grin

"You mind passing me my book and god help me a brandy, my head...hurts" I give my most imploring look to the six foot barrel-chested man.

"Ah lost your way with words so early in the morning? Would've thought you'd say-" He raises a cup into the air "-Oh how doth my cranium shiver in drunken anguish, or something like that"

"Not right now, now...brandy, brandy brandy is the word" I press my head against the wooden bar, still cooler than my head right now.

"Oh I'll get you a brandy to stop your moaning" He flips a cup into the air, catching it and gently plopping it in front of me. "Say what did you get up to last night?" He fills up my glass with something golden brown and alcoholic, leaning in with curious blue eyes for gossip, tusks clinking gently off the taps.

Raising my head just enough to meet his eyes proper "Uhhhhhh I remember this morning. I mean I know I started drinking here at some point and then" waving my right hand in the air randomly "I woke at home, naked, girl cooking me pancakes"

Merg, looking at me funny, pushes my glass towards me as well as my notebook, rubs a rather long canine and gives me an inquisitive stare. "Now by my time it's barely 10. don't tell me you left that girl at yours making you pancakes..." he stares at me "oh you did, oh you bastard, the poor girl"

"Oh don't judge me" I take a healthy gulp of the brandy, it's sweet burn caressing my throat. "You know how I feel about interpersonal relationships with the fairer sex. I know you know I believe women have a bit too much crazy in them for me to deal with them and you know those women I write in my stories are based off experience...well mostly"

"No bloody wonder if you leave em at yours, making pancakes, she was probably a proper sweet one" He shakes his head at me " Well go on tell me about her anyways so I can give you a quick warning to run" It's not either of our first rodeo with women who know me, nor will it be his last.

"She was this five foot cute brunette, this long pigtail almost reaching her ass. And god was her voice squeaky. I'm actually kind of glad I don't remember what she was like in bed she might've been a proper banshee that one."

"Noise is good man, also weren't you writing about some banshee fuckery recently. Might've had a peek at the old book" He pokes a meaty finger at my notebook

Oh he's probably got a point, I don't know what's in half that book.

Opening it up I have a skim through,

"And as she seductively stuffed his mouth with blueberry pancakes, she squirms on top of him, latching onto his member squeezing and swaying with sultry motion shrill screams resonating from the back of her throat to all around the room as she slides herself up and down his shaft. As her pace continues, the feeding quickens alongside her motions, and her screams grow, from loud to piercing to earsplitting and the man, underneath her joins screaming. His screams although are not ones of pleasure but accompanies the blood pouring out his ears and eyes and he tries to rise, but with unnatural strength her single braided pigtail whips around his arms pushing them against the bed as she wails in ecstasy, thrusting him inside her one last time; splattering his eyeball over her chest and his semen through her now incorporeal self...Huh thats a pretty fucked up story if I do write so myself Merg"

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"You're telling me. Maybe you just got something against screamers, although I don't know if a gals screams could kill" He rubs his small tusk in ponderous thought.

"Probably, I don't know what's going on in my mind like ninety percent of the time, and oh hey look there's a little bio page for the banshee chick. Seems according to me she emotionally latches onto a prey and gets real invested in them, hunting them down and fucking them till her screamy orgasm. And hey look there's a weakness section. Gosh I must've been invested in this one if I'm trying to flesh out a creature.

Weakness; having an orgasm through deepthroat will cause her to vanish back to her plane of existence. Strengths; has sharp teeth so hero must wear some form of safety or get a ring gag." Huh well Merg has fucked off to deal with another early rise and I am finishing off that first brandy now.

I must've seen the shortstack at some point and written about her, I like doing that; making stories out of people I watch. I can see why I made her a banshee with that squealy voice.

"Hey Merg, got a question" I call over to the pale bastard as he pours a pint of Fosters for some crusty git.

Waiting a minute, he sidles over "Yeah go on hit me."

"First" I shake my empty glass and ever so quickly it gets refilled "so you might want to get that tooth checked, last I checked teeth aren't supposed to jut out like that"

He raises an eyebrow "What tooth?"

"The, ah the tusk or whatever the fuck that is"

"What's wrong with my tusk it's perfectly sharpened and above average thank you" He huffs and walks away, about a metre to serve a crusty lady to go with the crusty git.

I think I might still be drunk, because he should not have a tusk, I mean it's twenty first century and people are all sort of weird but like I think it wasn't there about five minutes ago.

I down my second drink, spend a few seconds staring at Merg serving the two bent over crustymers with flaky old skin and baggy brown clothing and shrug my shoulders. Ah what do I care, if he wants to have tusks he can have perfectly above average tusks.

Right now what am I going to start writing

...

An hour later and after only another two brandys, I'm certain I might need to go to an optician.

Now I may be a drunk, but usually imbibing several glasses of alcohol doesn't make your favorite bartender turn green. Not sick green but grass green, which his skin hue now is.

There's a word for it in my head somewhere, ah, orc. Yeah he does kind of look like an orc, although he does still pass on shit gossip like good old Merg.

"-And so Nancy over there was telling me how Andrew, her ex used to beg her, I say beg her for a peg or two, would explain why he always prefers to stand" He gives a meaty laugh while filling up my fifth cup. You know it seems like he really has been reading my notebook if he's taking my advice; no glass in the bar, instead petite oak cups to make it more medieval and ambient.

Rolling my eyes at his gossip I swivel around, steadying myself on the bar and have a good look around. I wonder what else he's changed

...

..

.

That's a pair of battleaxes hanging on top of the door, huh that is certainly new. Definitely not something you'd see at a Wetherspoons. Lucky this isn't one.

"Oy lad you've been at your cups for an hour by yourself, how about you come sit with me and the missus" a clacking voice to my right catches my attention. It's the crusty git, beady eyes staring at me as he waves a claw at me...a big, crab claw. Where the fuck did he get that!

"Nah I'm good I prefer to watch"

"Oh that's why we're inviting you over...if you get my drift" His lidless eyes stare at me, eyebrows jiggling.

Ew, you do understand you both are crusty and definitely riddled with disease, I do not want to be within the same breathing space as you. I mean look at your skin, it's so hard it might as well be a shell.

"Err...no. Yeah, no not for me"

He 'tsch's and walks back, his hand holding a pint of fosters, claw holding nothing. Seriously where'd he get a claw?

Today's already weird and it's not even midday. Maybe I should lay off the drink, or check that I haven't been spiked with something fucked up. Nah Merg wouldn't let it happen but seriously today feels strange.

Maybe another drink will do it.

Motioning Merg for a sixth drink I muse towards my epilogue for some random ten thousand word story about ooh find the magic stones before the world ends. and like any good story of mine, the end is always a loss for the heroes. Hmm, yeah let's not beat around the bush with it why not;

'And so summer ended on the 38th day of the middling month, the world with it.'

That'll do,

*Bang*

A trio of men, if you could call them that, squeeze into the bar. Their skin has a bark-like complexion, leaves poke out from under their pinstripe trillby's and their beady black holes for eyes match perfectly with their suits.

Before anyone can react, one blitzes up to the bar, takes one stomp over the counter and picks up Merg by the throat raising him to eye level...which is about nine foot in the air.

"WHERE IS JERICHO" His roars rattle the bar and for his efforts a whimpering "I don't know" comes from the big softie.

*BANG* blood splatters across my face, a thick meaty piece resting on my right shoulder. oh shit!

I duck under the bar just as screams pierce the air, people fleeing for their lives as these giant tree-men start picking up unlucky people asking the same question before decorating the ceiling with brain matter.

Scrambling through the counter door I come across the slumped corpse of Merg and spend a second fighting the vomit thats coursing up my throat.

Gulping as hard as I can I crawl besides him, peeking up at the Tree-man who has turned around now watching the mayhem.

Glancing under the counter, yes Betsy is there, hopefully she's fucking loaded. Getting to my knees I lift Betsy the double barreled shotgun off her hooks, switch the safety off and aim at the smiling tree-man's thigh. Well here goes nothing

*BANG* FUCK that hurt my shoulder but did it bisect the dude from stomach above, causing him to drop his AA-12 on top of Merg as his upper half topples forwards.

Hearing him crash on the counter...is a bad sign because all other shooting has stopped. shit shit!

Dropping Betsy and scrambling for the AA-12 I hear the quick thunderous footsteps of two big things and within a second swing the shotgun facing above the counter.

Just in time as both peek with a gun each...

Holding down the trigger screaming and spraying wildly I stand up as they fall back, bark rocketing backwards as they stumble before crashing on the ground in a reduced heap.

*Click click click* Breathing heavily I drop the shotgun and rush towards the door, jumping over a number of headless corpses littering the room and reaching the door

"Uuuuugh" what the fuck was that.

Turning around I notice the bisected one moaning as it crawls towards a discarded gun. Shit!

Looking up I see the battle axes, grab one and chuck it, but he throws himself to the side axe flying wide and smashing a row of bottles behind the counter.

Wasting no time I throw myself to the side as he raises a shotgun, diving behind a fallen table as a single bang cracks around the room followed by a roar and a chop.

Followed by another chop and another chop and another and when I peek up from behind the table it's fucking Merg battle axe in hand chopping the man into firewood.

"What the FUCK is going on!"

Merg's second head turns as his first continues to focus on chopping "You fucking tell me! I've got no idea"