Episode 01x32 - The Very Face of Evil

Malex:

Things had gone from bad to worse, and I had a feeling that ‘worse’ wasn’t half as bad as it was going to get before we were finally able to get out of this mess.

First, the portal, upon which I had been depending to take us home, had apparently been fake. Second, our attempts to escape via the fake portal had unleashed some terrible creatures, which had devoured large percentages of the tribe. Third, these creatures were apparently designed to look something like Robb/Bobb - a process which had spawned the most revolting creatures I had ever seen. Fourth, Echofly had been taken by said creatures, and had been flown in the general direction of the trunk of the tree. Fifth, the natives who were not dead had taken it upon themselves to blame us for the ‘disaster’, and had chased us toward the trunk.

When we passed the cage area the tribe immediately stopped chasing us. Instead, they began jumping around, hooting, and pointing in our direction.

“What’s up with them?!” Icepunk said - stopping and pointing at the warriors.

“They’re scared of something!” Poo shuddered. “They must be afraid of something that lives here!”

Icepunk:

As we get closer and closer to the actual tree, I notice that everything seems more dead and rotten. I also sense an evil presence growing nearer and nearer.

In spite of the dire lack of caffeine, I attempt to keep myself alert by scanning the surrounding environment for threats. There are thorns and vile-looking plants everywhere now. In the near darkness of the tree, the plants seem to be glowing.

The strangest, most unnaturally upbeat tune pops into my head. At first I dismiss it as a product of the strange atmosphere of this place, but then I find myself humming it aloud.

“Wait. Does anyone hear that?” I ask of my companions, realizing the tune is coming from somewhere other than my head.

“Yeah,” Malex says, furrowing his brow. “Weird.”

“What do you suppose it is?” Poo questions fearfully.

“I don’t know, Poo,” I reply, “but I’m guessing it’s some demon spawned by the tree in an effort to crush us.”

The song gets louder, and a squirrel of ambiguous gender prances into view, wearing a red cape and carrying a picnic basket. “Hiya!”

We stare open-mouthed at the evil entity.

“What the bloody crap are you? Are you a demon?” I ask it.

“I’m Little Red Riding Squirrel! Ha-ha!” The buck-toothed squirrel somehow manages to roll the ‘r’s in a terrible perversion of the English language.

Scared out of his wits, The Cowardly Poo retreats into hiding behind me.

Deeply, deeply disturbed, I ask, “What are you going to DO to us?!”

He taps his basket. “Wanna buy some crack? My grandmother is just gonna snort it all at once anyway. Say, that reminds me. I’m lost. Have you seen my grandmother?”

“Um, what does your grandmother look like?” Linus timidly queries.

“Well, she’s about yea high.” It raises a paw over its head, indicating three or four feet in height. “She has really bad teeth and never shaves her facial hair.”

Intrigued by the oddity of this description, especially since something about this seems strangely familiar, I ask, “Are her teeth pointy?”

“Yup!” it says. “She has a really long nose, beady eyes, and is covered in gray fur-”

“Sounds like your ‘grandmother’ is a Big Bad Wolf,” Malex interrupts, snickering to himself.

The squirrel groans impatiently. “No, no. She’s got these really long, raking claws like the antagonist in some slasher movie, and-”

“Definitely a wolf, little fella.” I tell it.

“No,” it says, “because she eats rabbits, drinks beer and watches dirty videos all day.”

“I’m telling ya, ‘she’ is a wolf,” I repsond.

“So the big, bad wolf has been posing as my abusive, drunken grandmother for most of my unnatural life?” It asks, a sudden light and unholy happiness coming into its eyes. “Does that mean that I don’t have to smuggle illegal drugs and other unspeakable things to her in my picnic basket?”

“I suppose... smuggling crack you say? Poor little guy,” Malex mutters under his breath.

“I can do whatever I want?” it asks, stupefied. Or maybe just stupid.

“Um, I guess...” I reply.

“Hurrah! Watch what I do when I’m happy!” It starts twirling, leaping, and doing many other unspeakable things that that no man should ever be witness to.

I recover from this assault before anyone else, and attempt to kill the horrible creature by beating it over the head with its own basket. Its cape comes off in the struggle, and the squirrel prances around, just out of beating range.

“Come back here, you monstrosity!” I yell.

“Leave me alone, I’m naked and I’m FROLICKING!” it yells and scampers away.

“Icepunk, leave the demon-possessed squirrel alone. We can kill it later,” Malex says.

“Or, we could never, EVER see it again!” I respond vehemently.

“Yeah, that works too.”

Malex:

We were still walking. Eventually, the branch we were walking on became so wide that I could no longer see its sides. This was indeed untamed territory.

As we went, the road - or branch - became less clear. By then we were surrounded on all sides by odd obstructions and parasitic creatures.

One such obstruction - a cluster of mushrooms with Robb/Bobb’s face on the head of each stalk - was waving its stalks around, snatching flying insects out of the air, and munching on them with a flourish. As we passed it, several of the faces waggled their eyebrows at our group, but thankfully none of them spoke.

Eventually, the trunk of the tree loomed out of the mist in front of us. It was completely black, and its surface was pitted with fungi and various parasitic diseases.

It took much longer to reach the trunk of the tree than I had originally estimated, mainly because it was so huge that its real distance was impossible to judge.

When we finally reached the trunk, I ran out of ideas. I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but the branch just flowed into the trunk in a gentle arc, which continued upward into the mist.

“What now, genius?” Linus asked me.

“I don’t know...” I answered distractedly.

I knelt and felt the bark beneath me. It was... warm.

I put my ear to the ground.

“Okay,” Icepunk said, “the ‘Malex The Awesome Guy Show’ needs to stop. Now. What do you think you’re doing anyway?”

“I’m listening,” I responded curtly.

I was indeed listening, and I was starting to hear something very interesting.

I was hearing the low, grating rhythm of labored breathing.

“Something is in there.” I said. “Whatever it is, it has Echofly, and our ticket out of here.”

“Alrighty then!” Linus exclaimed sarcastically. “Start gnawing, fellas! We should be able to bore through before we die.”

I didn’t even respond. Instead, I continued to look around for a way inside the tree. Boof and Poo, however, began obediently tearing into the tree with naught but their teeth.

I shook my head. “Keep up the good work people, I’ll scout around a bit.” To Icepunk, I said, “Keep ’em busy. I’ll be back soon.”

I started off to the left; walking parallel to the trunk of the tree. Eventually, the branch started to slope downward; making it difficult to walk. I noted that I would have to be careful to avoid going too far and sliding down to my doom. Soon, however, I noticed a progression of metal beams, about five feet wide apiece, jutting from the trunk of the tree, and spiraling away into the mist. A staircase? I didn’t want to approach it, because the branch that I was walking on was getting too steep for comfort.

I turned around and began the long, uphill trek back to the group.

Amazingly, by the time I returned, the gnawed hole was wide enough to crawl through, and was about three feet deep. Boof and Poo were no longer gnawing on it since their previous efforts had left their mouths dry, sore, swollen, and riddled with splinters.

Icepunk was yelling at them, “Curse you lazy bums! Get back to work!”

They tried to respond, but failed.

Linus and Thubthub were both incapacitated on the ground laughing.

“I’m warning you!” Icepunk continued. “I’ll start up the senseless beatings again!”

At this, Poo whined a bit and tried to crawl back to the hole.

“Never mind that, fellas,” I said. “I’ve found a better way.”

Our little group collected itself and proceeded toward my discovery. I looked back at the gnawed hole and shook my head, “Nice job though...”