Norrathian Archive Features By Sam Smith	PoParody: The Realm of Disease The smell was actually quite appetising, Arkanth thought, as they drew nearer to the deadly drivethrough. He let himself inhale properly. Yes-- you could be forgiven for mistaking this for food, but then again, that was how they lured you in. As he thought this, he felt a sharp pain in his side. His nose might have been fooled, but his kidneys were screaming warnings with all the influence they possessed. In these situations, kidneys know best. What's it to the nose if the body ingests some of their poison? It's the kidneys who have to do all the bloody work. It's amazing, Arkanth thought, that someone could invent a fast food so toxic, yet seemingly appealing, that it could simultaneously make your mouth water and your stomach turn. A giant billboard advertised the latest concoction. A thin, highly attractive Wood-Elf supermodel was holding a burger so organic that it had it's own system of government. The burger seemed to be solidified grease, and not only contained more fat than the model's entire body, but quite possibly more fat than her entire race. Where she was holding it, her fingers had turned translucent. Still, it did look misleadingly appetizing, until you looked closer, and then you felt sick -- the meat was rancid and coated with a thin layer of fungus, and the lettuce was quietly gnawing the model's hand when she wasn't looking. They carried on, drifting gloomily towards the worlds 32nd worst burger bar. As they reached the top of a small hill it popped into view. Once again, the building actually looked quite nice. Like the smell, this was terribly misleading, with the external appeal trying to make up for the horrors served inside. The building was made mostly out of large glass windows and modern looking stone. The sun was shining over it directly, fixed firmly in place by Bertie's Burgers' marketing budget. As they approached, they inside of the restaurant became visible. The fact that most of the seats were a couple of feet wide and constructed with reinforced steel suggested that they might have some difficulty fitting in. The average customer was between 300-500lb, with the exact weight left to guesswork because when weighed, the diners not only broke the scales, but subsequently ate them. "Try your best to blend in!" Arkanth hissed, as they slipped in through the wide double doors. They walked in and found heads turning, and people stopping mid mouthful to look up and glare at the newcomers. Arkanth managed to blend in to the background somewhat, as was his talent, but Graham stood out like, well, a 7 foot paladin wearing a stupid Hawaiian t-shirt. Graham couldn't tell whether they were glaring at him as an outsider, or simply looking at him as something to eat; either way, it was bad news. He tried to blend in by donning a cardboard hat adorned with the Bertie's Burgers' logo - it did nothing to improve matters. Arkanth was whispering frantically in his ear. "Just try to attract as little attention as possible. Don't make eye contact and just try and fit in. And whatever you do, don't do anything stupid like-" But Arkanth didn't get to finish that sentence, as Graham, being a well-meaning but somewhat dim hero, took the logical step of trying to attract less attention by shouting at the top of his voice. "Fear not gentle citizens!" He bellowed, in the heroic tone he loved so much. "-Like that for instance." Arkanth muttered, trailing off in exasperation. Now every eye was on him. Eyes belonging to a variety of people who each redefined 'massive', all of which were glaring at him with an aura of contempt. "It's ok, you need not worry!" Graham continued, with the survival instincts common to a road-dwelling sheep, "I am here to free you. You need not live out your lives in these vile, disgusting bodies. I am here to free you all from these repugnant depths of pestilence and decay, and to rescue you from such gluttonous levels of obesity!" There was a roar of anger. Graham suspected that this speech did not come across as such an awe-inspiring example of leadership as he had intended. A thrown knife that embedded itself in the wall where he had been standing a second ago confirmed this fact. There was a rumble of movement and a slight shuddering of the floor as several massive and very angry diners attempted to make it to their feet. Graham cast his eyes around urgently; searching for Arkanth, who had dived for cover before Graham even started speaking. Graham ducked as a fresh barrage of cutlery clattered into the wall above his head. A lot of the restaurant’s customers were now on their feet and storming towards him. Stammered explanations failed to halt the advance. Things looked bad, but then everyone froze, held in place by the sudden presence of an incredibly rancid odour. The customers suddenly assumed a panicked look, temporarily forgetting about their prey, and all eyes were fixed on the door. Graham and Arkanth weren’t to know, but the odour foreshadowed the arrival of the most disgusting denizen of disease, Grummus himself. They watched in a horrified awe as 6,000lb of fat tried to squeeze in through the four-door wide entrance. The entrance resisted the attack fairly well, aided by sturdy building work, but it would be in need of some minor repairs, Grummus occasionally worked as a ‘demolition engineer’, meaning he walked into buildings for money, saving the wrecking ball man a job. They were mesmerized by the unnatural beauty of walls of fat rippling to the beat of footsteps which shook the building. As he came closer, the odour intensified, becoming more brutal with every Earth-shaking step. And then, in an angry bellow that assaulted the nose as much as the ears, Grummus screamed; “The usuallllllllllll!” Behind the counter, frenzied Bertie’s Burgers workers sprang into action, looks of intense panic on their faces. A trainee had simply dived for cover, and lay cowering under the counter, shivering manically, and muttering “I’m too young and uber to die!”. Grummus’ ‘usual’ seemed to consist of EVERYTHING, several times over, and what looked suspiciously like a deep fried horse. Arkanth watched in mute horror as all the food was engulfed, and he watched, half pityingly, half scathingly, as the vertical whale’s expression registered that something was wrong. Any one mouthful of that food contained a similar amount of bacteria to the black plague, and even someone with such a practiced immunity, it seemed, was going to be in trouble. Shrieking a foul cry, Grummus made a beeline directly for the toilets, crushing tables, chairs and unfortunate customers alike. A whole chair became lost somewhere between the folds of fat. Grummus flung the door open and squeezed inside, and there were some terrifying, unholy sounds which must never be repeated. Followed by a flushing sound, and a flash of ethereal light. “Aha…” exclaimed Graham, quietly. “The path onwards is revealed!” “NO!” Arkanth shouted, “NO WAY! If you think for one minu- just NO, OK?” Arkanth even folded his arms to indicate that he really really meant it this time. But then he took a look around the room at the angry customers, and realized their predicament. “Oh damn…” he moaned. “Bloody hell…” The customers were also remembering their scheduled mob beating, and were resuming the rather difficult task of standing up. Graham unsheathed his sword and held it upwards in a heroic pose, allowing the light to glint across its blade. “Onwards!” Arkanth, seeing how essential this heroic gesture was, kicked him in the shins. “Just GO!” Instead of taking the logical route of fleeing for his life, Graham frowned. “Now I don’t think that was entirely necessary.” Arkanth swore. He didn’t know anyone else who, when surrounded by an angry mob with arms the size of treetrunks and bellies the size of cars, would stop to have a moral debate. In a decisive effort to just let it go and bloody run, Arkanth diplomatically kicked him again, before taking off. They reached the door, and flung it back. The stench hit them with a physical force, almost knocking them out, but the adrenaline and urgency of the situation kept them standing. They had flipped the latch behind them, but it looked flimsy, and the customers outside really were BIG. Frantically they searched the room, it contained a small sink and what had to be the world’s biggest toilet. It was massive, a pile of pure putrid essence, flowing with liquid sewage. There was the first pound against the door, which quavered on its hinges. “How do we get the hell out of here!” Arkanth gagged, his eyes watering from the smell. The pounding came again, this time louder, with more bodies hitting the door. “I’m afraid the toilet facilities are currently in use!” Graham shouted. “We won’t be long, just wait until we find the way to escape.” Arkanth stopped searching. Even in the most frantic of moments, there was enough time to just stare, dumbfounded, at this man’s stupidity. The pounding became more frantic. Something caught his eye. “Aaah! Here we are!” It was a bronze plaque embedded into the wall above the gigantic pipe. “Ethereal sewage gateway to the Crypt of Decay, installed by Qeynos Design; adding ‘features’ to the game you didn’t need to see! This system is guaranteed to be more effective than any number* of cowardly, underpaid guards and/or henchmen! Keeps your property safe, and those pesky mortals at bay! Call 0895-EWWWW for a brochure. We also do zone-revamp design. And gardens.” “OH DAMN!” Arkanth exclaimed, realizing what this meant. He looked down into the swirling pestilence. “No…” There was another massive thump, and the sound of splintering timbers. Graham was putting his weight against it to help support it, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Arkanth knew what he would have to do- there was only one way out, but still… He looked around, and saw Graham’s slightly worried, but still predominantly gormlessly optimistic face. Closing his eyes, Arkanth grabbed the paladin, and threw them both forwards into the horrific mess. The fact that he got to throw Graham in it was some comfort, without which he could almost definitely never have done it. The fact that it was either that or be hammered into a bloody pulp was also a key factor. Comments / Feedback - Click here to add your comment. Posted by Guest on November 30, 2004 11 PM Sorry it's been a while coming, but I did eventually get it sorted! For those who don't know, this is the sequel to the Planes of Parody 1, which can be found here: http://www.norrathian.net/article.php?art=poparody1 I've been very busy with different writings. Mostly, working on my book. :) (Some can be found on the Sam Smith website.) As always I'm very interested in any feedback anyone feels moved to provide, either post it on the forums or email me. I just hope this story can live up to the amazing reaction I got for the first one! Posted by Guest on December 06, 2004 12 PM Great! How the *ell do you think of this stuff? Posted by Guest on December 07, 2004 03 AM Very nicely written! You've managed to keep my interest throughout the two chapters so far, I look forward to future installments. Posted by Guest on January 24, 2005 11 PM :lol: ive read both of the chapters on the site, and im DYING to read the third one, when is it coming out? awaiting impatiently..... :wink: Posted by Guest on July 07, 2005 04 PM WoW Gold Price Comparison