, fucks not given all is well.jpg
Cliffs sure are fun! Especially when I don't fall off of one, much unlike what I am about to do in a matter of seconds. Well, seconds to me. It may take one longer to read this mess. Time is relative, see. I call it Yoshika's theory of General Relativity. The boon of being undead is that it does not really matter all that much whether or not I stop myself before stepping off into the bottomless chasm below, and thank the gods for that; I don't show any signs of stopping.
Though, I may have exaggerated a bit. Just a teeeensy bit. The cliff is more like a small lump of rock protruding from a bit of dirt, and the bottomless chasm is more or less as high as a stair. Oh, and it's followed by several identical ones just below it. I do believe these cliffs are actually stairs. Sorry about the confusion folks. My eyesight isn't quite what it used to be, and I'll be damned if I become the first shambling corpse to wear glasses.
Oh, but stairs are so hard to navigate with such a stiff undead corpse for a body. Calisthenics alleviate naught in regards to flexibility when the tendons and muscles have already achieved the rigor mortis status buff (+15 to Charisma!), and my number one method when contending with stairs is to simply fall down them gracelessly. I do just that. It hurts. A lot, really. Coming from an undead that shrugs off pain like most trees do, that says a lot. I hope this alleviates the tension from my previous fib. Seeing me in pain is funny is it not? You obnoxiously sadistic bastards.
I topple head over heels, and then heels over head. Head falls over heels, heels touch head, bones make odd breaking sounds, spleen goes flying off into the ether and everything fades to black. Not a clean fade to black like you see in old movies, either. This is a bloody, bone-crunching and flesh-rending horrible nightmare gone horribly wrong attempting to wiggle its way out of your subconscious to eat you and your family alive. It'll probably leave your dog be though, heartless it is not.
I awaken later to find that I have forgotten everything, name excluded. Or included, not that I think about it. Good thing I keep backups handy for catastrophic failures like this particularly nasty little fall down a flight of
stairs cliffs. Why someone would place stairs cliffs in the middle of nowhere begs numerous questions. Questions which will be answered riiiiight... abooooouuut... now!
There is a house. Well, a few houses. Lots of them, I should say. Enough to fill a world! None of them happen to be within my field of view. Instead, I find myself standing rather brokenly in the middle of a graveyard. I try to walk around to get my bearings, but too many broken bones impede my progress. Ouch, one might say, as they fall to the ground much like I do. Lucky for me, I wouldn't have to worry about bleeding out and dying like what's-their-face.
Magic works its... magic actually, and I'm seconds away from being cured. Bones unbreak, head and heels no longer possess the ability to touch, and I am well on my way. I pick up a few bits and pieces that may or may not have fallen off in the process, reattach them and move along.
Odd place for a graveyard, says I. Odd that they would need stairs to reach it, replies I to I. Odd still that it seems to be unattended, pontificates I. But, oddest of all are the sudden speech patterns I happen to have picked up along the way. Great physical trauma does that sometimes, you know. It jumbles the brain and--
Knocks it a short distance off to the side, in some tall grass. Right next to a patch of babmoo. Most unfortunate, I just had it cleaned. Those bamboo stains will never come off! I dust off my thinky bits, thrust it back into its rightful place, and move to explore this, er...
Oh yeah, boathouse! No, no, I'll get this one. Gimme a sec...
No, graveyard! It's a graveyard! Full of graves and corpses! And deadbeats. And moving corpses that move, though not very lifelike nor fluid. Well, one deadbeat, anyway. I can see it now:
GRAVEYARD: Population 1 deadbeat.
She sits lonesomely, her back rested against one of the larger graves. She looks off into the distance, also lonesomely, and does not seem to notice my presence. Particularly lonesome, that one. Obviously the writer didn't think to break out the thesaurus for that one. Now, if me falling down a flight of
stairs cliffs and breaking all the bones in my body, as well as forcing my brain out of my cranium will not garner her attention, I do not know what will. Oh, and my spleen flying off into the ether. Who knows how that happened, or what happened to it. I suppose it'll turn up later in the story, or not.
But, best leave that for later. I was on some sort of errand to do something with some sort of somethings. Something seems to be missing.
[YOU HAVE LOST ITEM: GROCERY LIST]
...I'll pretend I didn't see that. Now, what was I doing again?
[ ] Surfing the web for obscure pornography.
[ ] Driving around aimlessly in a new car.
[ ] Uninstalling Internet Explorer.
[ ] Giving cash to deadbeats in graveyards.
[ ] Exploding pants.