Now, quite naturally I wake up in graveyard with some winged ethereal bint standing over me. You know, as you do.
Just another regular morning.
Having been torn from beyond the veil of death to once more walk the land of living I am then immediately tasked with a mighty quest. "Oh mighty Val'kyr! Black harbinger of the grave! What is this great task for which you have awakened me from my eternal sleep? What fell deed is it I must complete?"
"I want you to talk to someone. He's over there."
Okay... Well, maybe he'll know what's going on.
I'll take that as a no then. Having walked 10 feet behind the first person I met to complete my first quest, next I am tasked with walking 10 feet behind the second person I've met in order to complete me next quest. Only this time I get to go inside a building! Obviously, this is all scary and new, and thus I am given a companion to hold my hand in the scary crypt.
So, there we are. zombie warrior and zombie wizard. Ready to team up and face the nightmarish terrors of...
A table. Because that's all that's down there. They gave me an escort to make sure I found my way into the building that was RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. In order to walk down a flight of stairs and pick up a couple of bits of crap for the lazy bastard standing RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOOR. Who is apparently far to busy standing around doing nothing to take the thirty seconds to pick up his own crap. I am too disgusted to even make a bone idle joke. I am beginning to suspect two important things about the leaders of the undead. Firstly that they think everyone else is CRIPPLINGLY RETARDED. Secondly that this is because they themselves are in fact CRIPPLINGLY RETARDED. Still, let's take a deep breath and get on with the task in hand.
OH WAIT I CAN'T DO THAT BECAUSE I'M DEAD. Still, never mind eh?
Still, we return to laughing boy in less time than it takes to type this sentence. Having brought him supplies so that he can allegedly patch up the local zombies, what do you think the next logical course of action would be?
That's right. We must now kill a bunch of the local undead. And by we I of course mean I, since my burly companion is apparently exhausted by the rigors of the tomb of storage and has gone of for a little rest. And so it's up to me to defeat a small percentage of the mindless undead who are quietly milling around the graveyard, minding their own business, bothering no one. Still, ours is not reason why. Ours is simply to set things on fire. So we do that for a bit.
This makes absolutely no difference to the number of harmless zombies quietly milling around of course, and probably wouldn't even if I'd been asked to kill more than six of them. But I'm getting paid to kill six, so whatever. After that pointless little exercise I'm then sent on to meet a new contact. The directions for finding him are a little more complicated than my previous quests. This time he's 10 feet to the LEFT.
Not only that, but he's standing on a tree stump, and refuses to get down. I guess he figures that being higher up makes him more important or something.
INFINITE POWER!!!
So the king of the hill asks me to go talk to some other zombies. Apparently they're having some difficulty adjusting to their new situation. Frankly they're not the only one. Still, after a quick survey one third of respondents said "oh well never mind", on third said "AAAAHHHH DON'T LOOK AT MEEEEEE!!" and the remaining respondents said.... well.
What the hell is that even supposed to mean? I've... I've got elbows. EVERYBODY here has elbows. Even the mindless zombies have elbows, and most of them only have one arm. I don't even know what I'm doing any more. Frankly I'm starting to wonder if maybe I wouldn't be better off back in the grave.
Having reported back my findings I am then assigned my toughest assignment yet. Luckily Zombo McUseless or whatever his name was from earlier has recovered enough to once again accompany me. Which is good to know, because there's no way I could do this alone unless I happened to be older than five. The next job is to walk down a path.
Scary I know. I mean, that's what? 50 feet of clearly marked pathway to follow? It could take anything up to thirty seconds! How will I ever cope with this mighty task?
Tune in next week when you will hear "with frightening ease".
No comments:
Post a Comment