Chapter 9: Not My F&$%ing World!: An Isekai Musical
Chapter 9: Not My F&$%ing World!: An Isekai Musical
Chapter 9 - Not My F&$%ing World!: An Isekai Musical
It had been a long time since Vicktormendorf von Ausgulten-bingen-bongen of Ulm had felt this powerful.
His enemy’s blood was still fresh in his mind, even as the stains of Lance’s blood had long dried up in the cellar of the Knight’s Secret. The blood of his other Outworlder victims had long since dried too; but the rush of revenge still held its vice grip over him. Where honor had once held him steady, the promise of retribution kept him wired like a bolt of lightning.
Muscles taut, tense all over, Victor found himself with no time to lose. Cunning had taught him about the semi-truck, the Outworlder’s great weakness. Cunning would have to teach him where to find one as well.
Several evenings after Lance’s death, Vic and Ornik found themselves seated in the Knight’s Secret, watching an Outworlder enter the bar.
Ornik let out a tiny croak.
“My toad-senses are telling me that this plan is too simplistic.”
Vic smiled. “The simplest plans are the best ones.”
“Says who, Victor?”
“Says… um… me.”
Victor stood, bloodlust growling through his organs, and walked up next to the Outworlder. The man was pale, short, seemingly out of shape. After Bart put the drink in front of the Outworlder, Vic shouted, “Make me and my friend two semi-truck cocktails… won’t you, Bart?”
The Outworlder shivered beside Victor before taking a big gulp of his drink. Vic did everything in his power to suppress his glee.
He’s out of shape. His reactions are so predictable. He’ll be perfect for this…
Bart’s mutton-chops quivered. “Never heard of that drink.”
“You’ve never heard of the semi-truck?” Victor said, pressing in closer towards the Outworlder. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the Outworlder turn pale.
Bart shook his head, bemused. “What’s in it?”
“I wish I knew,” Victor said. “Ornik, do you know?”
Ornik shook his head and croaked.
Then Victor turned to the Outworlder. “Hey, stranger, what do you know about semi-trucks?”
The Outworlder coughed on his drink.
Victor pressed on: “What do you know…”
But as the words came out, Victor noticed something unusual. Was that a drum slowly picking up pace in the background? Mandolins, badly tuned ones, in the distance as well?
And behind him, an ensemble of local drunks was inching closer and closer. It made him terribly uneasy, but he had to press on. He was so close to this vital knowledge.
He tried to speak again, but his words came out oddly musical:
“What… do… you…”
VIC … kno-o-o-o-ow!
ENSEMBLE (What do you know?)
VIC What do you kno-o-o-ow?
ENSEMBLE (What do you know?)
Music erupted in every direction. An ensemble of drunkards jumped behind Victor, holding arms and gently kicking their legs.
VIC Tell me everything you know.
I must know just what you know.
What do you kno-o-ow?
ENSEMBLE (What do you know?)
VIC What do you kno-o-o-ow?
ENSEMBLE (What do you know?)
ORNIK I don’t feel good about this, Vic,
Everyone’s singing, and ouch – don’t kick!
VIC Is this dimwit next to me,
Casting spells into the scene?
ORNIK: Victor – we have got to go!
It’s not safe here – don’t you know?
Victor and Ornik fled, leaving the quaking Outworlder behind, who seemed just as startled as they did.
The chorus repeated behind them several times:
ENSEMBLE What do you kno-o-o-o-ow? (What do you know?)
What do you KNO-O-O-OW?
Yeah!
– until at last, they burst out from the Knight’s Secret, relieved to have escaped as the music came to a sudden and explosive end behind them.
They exhaled deep breaths. Victor felt like he got his voice back from… well, whatever that was.
That is, until across the street, he noticed the iron-monger doing a little dance and singing:
IRON-MONGER I’m the iiiii-ron monger and I’m caked in musk!
I monger all this iron from dawn to dusk!
Victor’s head swiveled around as he noticed several maidens holding laundry:
MAIDENS Laundry smells, laundry bells, laundry ev–ry day,
Oh I hate the smell of filth, and I hate the smell of fae, oooooon –
Victor noticed Rose and Princess Lataya rushing towards them from a distance. When he went to speak, he was horrified to find himself still caught in the spell:
VIC Just when I thought we were safe,
We’re made now to sing and to chafe…
Ornik, glancing at the irritated spot of skin on Victor’s shoulder, winced.
ORNIK It’s very bizarre, this is true,
Oh, I wish I hadn’t listened to you…
Rose and the Princess stopped in front of them, gasping and catching their breath.
ROSE There’s a new Outworlder sent by Ben,
His name is Ricky, and they’ve said
LATAYA That he has spells to mock and maim,
Until this magic we can tame…
Victor threw his arms out in front of him, against his will, unwittingly belting out the bridge to the chorus:
VIC It’s always some damn thi-i-i-ing…
To keep us from our thi-i-i-i-i-ings…
Silence. A gaggle of townsfolk sidled in behind the four heroes. Then, he whispered:
VIC And…
It’s…
HEROES OFF to high ground agai-i-i-i-in!
TOWNSFOLK (They’re OFF to high ground again!)
HEROES We’re OFF to high ground agai-i-i-i-in!
TOWNSFOLK (OFF to high ground again!)
VIC I hate running away, but the flood’s a-raging
ORNIK We have to go, Vic, enough’s been, uh, said…
ROSE Your cadence is off, toad, don’t be lame
ORNIK What’s the difference, it’s all the same. Cuz:
HEROES: We’re OFF to high ground agai-i-i-i-in!
TOWNSFOLK (They’re OFF to high ground again!)
HEROES OFF to high ground agai-i-i-i-in!
TOWNSFOLK (OFF to high ground again!)
The heroes formed a chorus line, arms around one another, and began a gentle kicking, as they readied the big finishing bar:
HEROES We’re OFF!
To!
High!
Ground!
A–gai-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-in!
The moment the orchestra’s song finished, the heroes fled back into the Knight’s Secret and snuck down into the cellar. It seemed that no place was safe from the spell, but at least the cellar of the Knight’s Secret was private.
Without saying words, fearful and humiliated by the eruptions of music that he couldn’t control, Victor walked the Princess towards a corner behind several casks of wine. The girl silently argued with him, vigorously shaking her head. But Victor was unsympathetic. He pointed a finger at that spot on the ground and scowled.
ORNIK: But SHE-E-E-E-E-E-E! –
Ornik clasped hands back over his mouth, before another musical number could begin. Rose and Victor glared at him.
After several more aped gestures at one another, the Princess folded her arms with a pout and sat in the corner. Victor sighed with relief. He had no idea where it would be safe to leave her anymore. But after their poisoning of Lance won over Bart the Barman’s approval, he knew that he could trust Bart and that no Outworlders would be allowed down here.
Waving a hand at Ornik and Rose, Victor ran back up to the main floor of the Knight’s Secret. They’d need to get as much information as he could about this cryptic Outworlder named Ricky who was making them all sing, and fast, because these musical numbers were already getting old.
*** *** ***
Lataya sat between barrels. What else was new? Nobody ever wanted to take her places. There was really nowhere to go anyway. But still. It was awful – just awful! – in that dank cellar.
Lataya frowned.
But nobody was there to notice.
She stepped out from behind the casks of wine in a brief act of defiance and smirked. But nobody noticed.
It used to be easy to get someone to notice her mischievous antics.
But far worse than that, she was not only unnoticed: she was also alone. Nobody was there.
Lataya sighed.
LATAYA I’ve always been some damsel…
Let’s watch her dance and her twirl…
They can’t see who I am, though,
The power of this little girl…
They think I’ll stay in caves, well
This is not where I belo-o-ong…
My father always said, “Well,
I know my daughter is stro-o-o-ong…”
Lataya crossed the room, stretching out her arms and embracing the bridge to the chorus, as she sang:
Po-o-ower and light,
I belong someplace that’s bri-i-i-ight!
From behind Lataya, a burst of fireflies illuminate her sad, little corner.
LATAYA Two worlds, and I’m betwee-ee-ee-een,
One of my regime,
Another of this awful dream!
The Kingdom needs a Quee-ee-een,
The time to mourn has passed,
It’s do or die for me at last!
Tears stung her eyes as the notes rolled off her tongue, capturing her mind, helping her speak in a way she’d never been able to before. Lights burst everywhere: not only the fireflies, but lights like hundreds of candles all around her. Dazzling, gleaming lights.
LATAYA My great-aunt Dorice once said,
“These are the worst of all days.”
The people laughed and said, “Hey,
You’ve got a terrible fa-a-a-a-ace!”
And there was Queen Eustacia,
Beloved like no one’s been since.
Her brothers had her killed, and
Wanted the crown for a Prince.
If I-I-I stay down here… well
Can I be a-a-a-anymore clea-a-ar?
Two worlds, and I’m betwee-ee-ee-een,
One of my regime,
Another of this awful dream!
The Kingdom needs a Quee-ee-een,
The time to mourn has passed,
It’s do or die for me at last!
Lataya clutched the necklace around her neck, the last vestige of her home, as the music died down. Something she hadn’t even remembered still wearing, which became a part of her during their flight from her home.
The gentle horns and mandolins played out the chorus once more, perhaps even more somberly than when she was singing.
She felt the illumination in the room die down as the music around her faded into a lilting decrescendo, until all illumination was gone except for the necklace.
This necklace. This family heirloom she knew nothing about. Something given to her when she was a baby: a tiny stone, with an engraving on it.
She clasped it, gripping it tightly, covering all but slivers of light with her fingers, until she felt something crack between her fingers. The necklace’s light went out like a blown candle.
Lataya’s sobbing grew worse. Have I just broken the last artifact of my Kingdom, as it was?
Lataya placed a finger on the shattered. And the room burst forth with a brilliant light.
And then, she released it. And all was dark again.
It’s not broken, she thought. It’s a locket, with a tiny Rune inside!
Hope. Some sliver of hope.
She didn’t know what the light meant. But she had found it, and so she would have to figure it out.
And there was no time to lose.
But above the princess, the floorboards squeaked. And music seemed to stir up. But it was too faint for her to hear.
So she crept towards the ladder back to the main floor to get a better look.
*** *** ***
In the Knight’s Secret, a number of regulars sat and drank. Nobody was speaking, even as music from some unknown source began to stir up.
Bart polished a glass, stiff and uneasy while leaning against the bar. He wore a look that said “I hate songs. I hate merriment. I even hate musicians. Hate it all!”
Whatever this Outworlder jokester thought they were doing, it seemed a grave offense against Bart personally, by the look on his face.
Yet, the barkeeper couldn’t remain silent for long. It was his job – he had to speak sometimes.
And when a massive llama came bursting through the door, startling shock into the room, and instruments began to kick up into a storm, Bart had little choice but to sing:
BART What’s that llama doing he-e-e-e-e-ere?
I thought I made it very clea-ea-ea-ea-ea-ear!
We don’t serve llamas, this is tru-u-u-ue,
We don’t serve llamas, how ‘bout yo-o-o-o-ou?
Bart quivered, his arms stretched towards the ceiling against his will. The eyes of the room were all on him.
The llama, which only seemed to have one eye, huffed impatiently in front of the bar as a volley of low drums urged Bart into singing:
BART Don’t know who told you that you cou-ou-ou-ould,
But it’s time you go, you really shou-ou-ou-ould…
The one-eyed llama simply stared at Bart. His expression didn’t change. He remained stoical, almost maddeningly so.
And then the music picked up pace.
LOCAL DRUNK 1 Why don’t you serve him, Bart my pal?
BART It’s my bar, Ernie – it’s just my style.
LOCAL DRUNK 2 I thought you hated singing songs,
BART When this spell’s lifted, I’ll prove you wrong!
The music came to a sudden halt. Bart winced, until a smile lifted across his face.
BART But… until then…
I’m compelled to sa-a-a-ay…
Beat. And then the bridge:
If you’re a man, and not a llama,
My bar is open, tell your mama.
I serve drinks, I serve ‘em plenty,
Come have one or two or twenty!
Be… cause… you’ll…
LOCAL DRUNKS Have yourself a bloo-oody secret!
It stays between just you and I-I-I-I…
BART Have yourself a bloo-oody secret!
What’s with this llama’s missing ey-y-y-y-ye?
The one-eyed llama spat at Bart, who sang obscenities back at it.
LOCAL DRUNKS Have yourself a bloo-oody secret!
It stays between just you and I-I-I-I…
BART It’s a little bloo-oody secret!
And we’re all out of the soup and pi-i-i-i-e!
LOCAL DRUNKS Have yourself a bloo-oody secret!
It’s the only place for you and I-I-I-I!
Then, the lights and music dropped, and a spotlight hit Bart, who whispered a new verse:
BART When I get my hands on this bastard Ricky…
LOCAL DRUNKS (Ooooh, ooooh…)
BART I’ll claw his eyes out – it won’t be pretty!
LOCAL DRUNKS (Ooooh, ooooh…)
BART For reminding me of awful da-a-a-ays
Of minstrels, clowns, and foppish wa-a-a-A-A-A-A-a-a-ays…
The music picks up again:
LOCAL DRUNKS Were you once a minstrel, Bart?
BART Don’t you dare, now – don’t you start!
Just –
LOCAL DRUNKS Have yourself a bloo-oody secret!
It’s the only place for us to si-i-i-i-i-ing…
BART Have yourself a bloo-oody secret!
No matter if the truth might sti-i-i-i-ing!
LOCAL DRUNKS Have yourself –
But before the chorus could begin again, the door was kicked in so hard that it went flying and hit the one-eyed llama, who erupted into shouts of pain and stampeded around the room. All was pandemonium, the drunks crashing into tables trying to escape the panicked llama, while a lone man watched from the threshold of the Knight’s Secret with a wicked grin on his face and a brand new song in his heart:
STRANGER AT THE DOOR I tri-i-i-ied… so many years ago-o-o-o-o…
I wanted just to fee-ee-eel… like it wasn’t so-o-o-o…
But it’s just another game, more evil quests to go-o-o-o…
The stranger, whose song was nearly overshadowed by the chaos of the screeching llama and screaming bar patrons, took a step into the tavern, extending arms out in front of him as if embracing a giant.
STRANGER They said… I’m not fit for schoo-oo-ool…
Told me I was broken, said I was a foo-oo-ool…
So I packed my bags and then, I took a fucking stoo-oo-oo-oo-ool…
The stranger grabbed a barstool and hurled it across the room, hitting and knocking two panicked Toadmen unconscious, just before a hurried chorus erupted:
STRANGER Give me more XP,
Let me clean the streets,
Give me bombs and spells and everythi-i-i-i-ing
To kill sixty NPCs
We can grind and grind in other-worlds
But can’t find that inner pea-ea-ea-eace…
So give me-e-e more XP!
Princess Lataya shook as she watched the scene of chaos unfold. Loud, violent instrumentals like she’d never heard before accompanied this horrible man.
This must be Ricky.
As the instrumentals crescendoed, he took a second stool and broke it over a local drunk’s head, leaving him in a pool of blood. With a broken stool leg, he stabbed a second drunk with theatrical flair, who collapsed to the ground.
We’re not NPCs… Princess Lataya thought. What is he talking about?
RICKY Give me more XP,
Stupid NPCs,
Let me optimize these inputs now
To kill sixty NPCs.
I feel the rush of power now,
That rush of sweet relea-ea-ea-ea-ease…
So give me-e-e more XP!
Princess Lataya clutched the necklace. What – can you help me? Something about it was calling to her. If only she could figure out specifically what it was…
Ricky picked up two stools and held them over his head. And then, Ricky’s face softened, and his mouth curled into a pout.
RICKY You know, it’s been slo-o-o-ow…
I would often kill a whole to-o-o-own at once,
I would rather kill en ma-a-a-asse as such.
Just play games like me, you get bo-o-o-ored, and such,
When blood tastes bland, you need mo-o-o-ore, and such,
So I live to please, myself and my fans,
Humiliating these, stupid NPCs…
Ricky threw the barstools, laughing, hitting several drunks who were too slow to miss and injuring the one-eyed llama, who made a break for the door and limped its way out.
RICKY Just give me-e-e-e more XP!
Why can’t you give me-e-e more XP!
Lataya felt that sick feeling – almost the same one she felt when she watched her father die.
Not again.
She emerged from her hiding spot and came eye-to-eye with the psychopathic killer.
Ricky smiled a wicked grin.
“Hello, Princess…”
*** *** ***
But before Princess Lataya could take another step, there was a shout from the door.
Victor, Ornik, and Rose were standing there, holding battle-stances. The music became harried, inconsistent, discordant:
RICKY Look what we have he-e-e-ere…
Tell me all your na-a-a-a-ames…
VIC I don’t have time for joking, Rick
I don’t have time for games.
RICKY You’re the NPCs who killed my frie-ie-iends…
Delivered right to me, the fun never e-e-e-ends…
VIC Let the girl pass, and I’ll let you be…
You really don’t want to mess with me…
RICKY I’m so afraid! Hah! You make me lau-au-augh,
The girl is dead, Vic; you won’t get pa-a-a-a-a-a-ast!
Victor took several steps closer, his heart pounding.
He thought, I’m ready to die.
VIC I’ll draw my sword, I’ll draw it true,
You can kill me, but just let her throu-ou-ough.
RICKY I’ll kill you both, I need more XP,
To feed that blistering hunger in me-e-e-e-E-E-E-E!
Victor shot out as fast as he could, darting past Ricky to shield Princess Lataya.
VIC Princess! Are you mad? He’ll kill you too!
LATAYA You need my help, Vic, you’ll need it soon
VIC What, are you crazy? Get back in the cellar
LATAYA I’m done with hiding! We’ll kill him together
Victor looked incredulously at her as Ricky grabbed a bottle and flung it at them, spitting with rage.
VIC You’d harm a girl? Have you no shame?
You think it’s just some stupid ga-a-a-a-A-A-A-a-a-ame?
RICKY It is a game, and I’m its master,
Now step aside, I’m a walking disaster!
Victor pushed the Princess behind a fallen table to shield them from a volley of bottles.
LATAYA I promise, I can help you, Vic!
I figured it out, my heirloom is si-i-i-i-ick
VIC I’m not your pal, Princess; I’m your subject,
Just stay out of the way, it’s you I need to prote-e-e-ect.
LATAYA That was a lousy rhyme, you know it,
Just let me help, we’ll both die without it
Princess Lataya held out her necklace, which emitted a strange light.
VIC What does it do? Why don’t I know this?
LATAYA I have no idea, let’s just wait for the chorus…
Suddenly, Ricky ripped the table out from in front of them, eliciting screams from Princess Lataya and an intensity and fear from Victor like he’d only felt on the day his King was killed.
RICKY Time to die, bots, no more drama-a-a-a-a,
Let’s end this song, now, come to mama-a-a-a-a-a-a-A-A-A-A-A!
Be…
Cause…
Without even second-guessing it, before Ricky could take a swing at them with his sword, Victor jumped to his feet and did the only thing he could still do: he burst into song, as a rousing orchestra gathered pace all across the room. And then instruments grew focused, and Vic was in the spotlight:
VIC It’s not my wo-o-o-o-orld!
It’s not my stupid, f$@!ing world!
You’re from hell, this ain’t my world!
I’m a hero in my world!
Ricky dropped his sword and stretched a hand out, belting out his part:
RICKY It’s not my wo-o-o-o-orld!
It’s not my stupid, f$@!ing world!
You’re nothing, computer dust!
And to kill you, this I must!
Standing face to face, Victor and Ricky bounced on their feet, as several surviving but badly bruised patrons of the destroyed bar snapped to their feet and jumped behind them.
VIC and RICKY It’s not my wo-o-o-o-o-orld!
SURVIVING PATRONS (It’s not my world!)
VIC and RICKY It’s not my stupid, f$@!ing world!
With every verse my anger swells,
It’s the finale – can’t you tell?
VIC and RICKY It’s not my wo-o-o-o-o-orld!
SURVIVING PATRONS (It’s not my world!)
VIC and RICKY It’s not my stupid, f$@!ing world!
I only want to keep my word,
And kill this stupid, f$@!ing turd!
VIC If –
Ricky grabbed Vic by the throat and pulled him up. Everything dimmed.
Is this it?
Through a gasp, with melancholy music behind, Vic slowly sang:
VIC I should riggle, I should buck…
I should use my semi-tru-u-u-uck –
The next thing he knew, Victor was dropped to the ground, clutching his throat, pawing at the painful grip that still felt like it was there, as he took strained breaths. The inexplicable orchestra went silent in an instant. Looking up, he noticed Ricky backing slowly away.
Victor slowly lifted himself to his feet, snapping with both hands and following Ricky’s retreat now, with the Princess and the surviving patrons trailing behind him, all united in rhythmic snapping:
VIC I would use my semi-truck…
snap!
I would use my semi-truck…
snap!
I would use my semi-truck…
snap!
I would use my semi-truck…
snap!
VIC Oh my heavens, give me LUCK –
Beside Victor, an explosion of light erupted around the Princess. Her hair fluttered in every direction. Ricky was frozen across from them.
“Victor!” the Princess shouted.
“Not… singing…” Victor whispered, tasting the music-less words, relieved to have escaped from that nightmare if only briefly.
The Princess grabbed at his arm. “My heirloom, it broke the spell!”
Ricky screamed with terror. “Ben said these would be easy kills! He never said anything about little girls with semi-truck Rune amulets…”
Victor smiled. Somehow, the tables had turned. Against all odds, he had this creep right where he wanted him.
And he would relish every second of it.
“That’s right. Ben lied to you. Now no one can save you.”
“Please, I beg you, just don’t kill me. I have a family! Yeah! You’re an honorable knight, you would have mercy on a man with a family, right?”
Bloodlust boiled up in Victor again, wishing for sweet revenge against this maniac, even though he didn’t really have a semi-truck. In that moment, he wished he did.
There was something powerful in the Princess’s necklace, but it definitely wasn’t a semi-truck. It was powerful enough to break Ricky’s singing spell, but it must’ve been similar enough to a semi-truck to warrant the fear.
Whatever he did, he needed to push this advantage. And then he needed to get himself and the Princess out of there.
And then he had an idea.
“We’ll let you go,” Victor said, “if you answer one question correctly.”
“Anything!” Ricky squealed. “Anything!”
“I want you to guess where we got the semi-truck.”
Ricky hyperventilated. He lay crumpled on the ground against the bar, surrounded by the chaos he wrought.
“I… don’t know…”
“I’ll give you three guesses,” Victor said. “Now, start guessing!”
“Uhm… The Rune store…?”
Victor stomped in front of him, which sent Ricky into further hysterics. “Don’t play games with me, you craven piece of trash. Make a serious guess!”
“Fine, fine! It must’ve been Semiopolis,” he stammered. “I’m not sure I should be saying this. But you must’ve gotten it from Semiopolis. Now please, let me go…”
Victor stared at him, watching the pathetic man cower and wriggle on the ground. Semiopolis… He had no idea where it was, but if he could just figure that out, he’d be one step closer to saving his people from the Outworld menace.
“It’s your lucky day,” Victor said. “You guessed right. Now get out of my sight.”
The mewling, cowering heap of dishonor on the floor turned suddenly back into a man. A wolfish grin shot over his face.
He rushed towards the door, shouting insults at them all. And after knocking Ornik to the ground during his escape, he cast a fire spell into the center of the Knight’s Secret, setting the whole building on fire.
Victor grabbed the Princess’s hand and rushed them through the building plumes of smoke.
Coughing, they made it out of the building as flames consumed the walls and then the roof of the Knight’s Secret.
“Can’t you use that Rune again, Princess? Maybe it can break the spread of the fire.”
She tried pressing it several times, but it did nothing. “I don’t know how!”
Desperate, afraid, powerless, the heroes could do little but watch as the fire raged on, horrified at the thought that no one else, not even Bart the Barman, had survived.
A gathering crowd of townspeople, who asked themselves why and how something like this could’ve happened.
Victor asked himself the same question. But Victor wanted more than answers. Now, more than at any other time, he wanted a semi-truck. And he wanted to drive it into every last Outworlder he could find.