Up on the fourth floor of the godfight arena, Pamela and Green Garey were rubbing elbows with and sketching hasty nudes of upper crust criminals. The air was filled with thicc, milky smoke, extremely rude gnats, and countless samples of body odors.

“Hey. Hey you. Hey. Cluck you. Hey cluck you. You clucking suck. Yea you. Go cluck yourself mothercluck—”

Pamela slapped her neck, flattening the extremely rude gnat into a paste.

“Yaarg! Them nasty scallopwagons arr everywhere, parrgtner. Hate em, AYE do!”

“You can say that again, Green Garey.”

“Glad you and AYE arr on the same page.”

“Um, you seem to have misunderstood me. I was asking you to say what you said again, because I wasn’t paying attention. I was trying to sketch what that woman over there’s nipples might be shaped like from the fall of her robes.”

“Yaarg! Pamela, mAYEght AYE ask ye a question?”

Pamela nodded curtly as she cross-hatched.

“WhAYE do-are ye always drawin’? And don’t give me the same story ye give to all the lanlumbars! Remember, we’re parrgtners.”

“You really wanna know, Green Garey?”

“AYE. AYE do indeed.”

“Okay. Well, it really does help me focus. Better than taking notes.”

“But..”

“But?”

“Yaarg! Ye know what AYE mean.”

“I’m afraid I don’t, Green Garey.”

“Come on now matey! Walk to the poop deck with me.”

Green Garey ushered Pamela to a far corner of the fourth floor where all of the extremely rude gnats were congregating. It was right outside the outhouse, an exclusive fourth floor convenience.

“Does it feel easier here, Parrrmela, where ye have some privacy?”

“Cluck you you clucking dweebus!”

He swatted at the extremely rude gnat.

“Go to hen motherclucker!”

He squashed it.

“Green Garey, if anything, I am far less comfortable. Though I am not sure how my subjective comfort applies to the scenario.”

“Parrmela, maybe AYE haven’t been completely transparent with ye. There’s a big secret AYE have that AYE feel compelled to let off me chest, if ye will hear it.”

“Okay,” Pamela blinked rapidly, surprised at the man emerging from the outhouse’s confusing physique. It would pose quite a challenge to sketch.

“Thank ye. AYE must tell ye, Parrmela, it has been weighing on me conscience for a long whAYEle that I haven’t discussed this with ye.”

“Cluck off you pegged-legged motherclucking imbecile!”

“Yea nice speaking pattern you crazy clucking butternutter!”

“Someone make these gnats walk the skank!”

“You first, cluckface!”

“Yaarg! Anyhowsit, it’s about me parrst, about who AYE truly am, Parrmela. It’s something AYE’m sure you’ve thought about before.”

“Okay,” Pamela was not paying any attention to what Green Garey was saying, but would remember all of it encycopedically after she finished detailing the scrotum.

“When AYE were a young lad me parents disappeared. They puffed to dust like a cloud of sky sand, Parrmela! Literally! It was horrifying!”

“Not unlike your clucking breath! Hood cock, have you ever heard of mint spells?”

Green Garaey squished the gnat.

“To this day, Parrmela, AYE have no idea where they may be or what mutinous bilge cat dragged them in to the wrong house! AYE have bared this weight me whole life onwards.”

“Okay,” Pamela continued drawing the man’s estimated achilles heel.

“Okay. Okay? Yaarg! That’s all ye have to say?! Parrmela, I thought surely ye, upon hearing me story, would have a similar such tale! Why else would ye sketch so many repugnant, naked photos?”

“I don’t find them repugnant. I find them helpful, as we’ve already discussed.”

“Yaarg! Well surely ye must want to know more about me parents, AYE?”

“Oh. Sure, go ahead.”

“They was the best parents AYE could’ve asked foarr, except with the disappearing in a puff a sky sand bit. You know what they were, Parrmela?”

“What they were? As in their profession? No, Green Garey. I have no idea what your parents’ jobs were, but magic free to elaborate. I find this general setting unstimulating and welcome the distraction.”

“They were-be the meanest, narrstiest, fiercest, cutthroatiest tax specializing lawyers this side of the carrntinent!”

Pamela blinked inquisitively as she erased an accidentall triple niple situation. “Well I’ll be. Did they twerk for Gigglesberg, Wigglestein, Figglesfeld, and Sons and Uncles and Other Men of Minor and/or No Relation?”

“Nay, matey! They was better’n all those lousy louses! They twerked for StAYEnwall, Baum and Fernfernfern and Sons and Daughters and Second Cousins and Other Men and Other Women of Minor and/or no Relation!”

“I see. I haven’t heard of them.”

“How would ye when their best lawyers disappeared in a puff of sky sand?”

Pamela finalized a navel. “That’s a hood question, Green Garey. That’s a hood question.” It was an ‘outie’.

***

Broderica and Lady Krumbumbum fidgeted uncomfortably in the tightly packed, moldy office of Jeffrey with a G. Cobwebs tickled their shoulders. Eustace has standing behind them staring at the door, exhaling like only a gruff moleman could.

“So, ladies,” rasped Jeffrey with a G, “ what you’re telling me is that my eyes are decieving me, and that you’re really two boisterous old chups who happen to have stumbled into a chromosome swapping spell without any idea how to reverse it. A snip without the snap, if you will.”

“I won’t!” spat Lady Krumbumbum, “We did not stumble into this spell! It’s been in my lexicon for ages! I am an esteemed wizard! I simply cannot remember the reversal spell because this fool over here burned all my books to a crisp while hurling excrement at skyrates!”

“Give it a rest, Krumbutthole!” Broderica’s boobs boobed around boobily in their boob holsters, forcing her to adjust them over and over again. Jeffrey with a G did not attempt to avert his gaze, though his cataracts did a little of that for him.

“Look, if you two wanna just screech at eachother like a couple of cats in heat I won’t stop you. But I believe I may have a suggestion. If your money’s right.”

“Oh fine,” huffed Broderica through breasted breath, presenting Jeffrey with a G a heavy leather sack. “Here. Take all of it, what do I care. Just help me get rid of these hamned things, they’re driving me crazy.”

“What in the cluck is this?” barked Jeffrey with a G as he pulled the drawstring open and rocks and mud poured out into his palm.

“What the hen, Krumbumpus?! I thought you said the spell would last all day!”

Lady Krumbumbum bristled. “It should have. But—”

“Hah! What a bout of flatulence! You thought you’d take me funny money? You thought I’d let any of your stupid magic wriggle its way into my arena? Do you know what I am?”

“Warlock,” Lady Krumbumbum murmured under her breath.

“Huh? What was that, Lady of the nearly flat chest? I mean really, you’d think you’d of evened it out among the two of you instead of giving them all to her! Or him, or whom, or whatever.”

“I hate warlocks.”

“Still so quiet. What was that? Speak up. Come on, you’ve got a lovely voice for an older woman.”

“Go to hen!”

“Hah! Listen to you! Here I am offering my assistance in this trying time and you offer me a pile of sludge in a fancy bag and tell me to go to hen! All because I’m a warlock! Just like a couple of wizards!”

“I’m not a wizard, sirrah,” interjected Broderica.

“No, of course not, you’re just a bit of a tart is all.”

“Why you!” Broderica went in to slap Jeffrey with a G across the face, only to watch as her palm stopped half a second from his skin.

“Heh heh heh. Nice try, lady.”

“What the hen?” Broderica backed her arm up and tried again to slap Jeffrey with a G, and was once again held back by some ineffable force. “Why can’t I hit you?!”

“Warlock!” Jeffrey with a G cackled triumphantly. Then he turned to Lady Krumbumbum. “You know, if you were a warlock and not a stinking wizard, you wouldn’t need any of your hamned books anyway! Do I look like I need books?”

“You look like you probably can’t even read.”

“Accurate! But why would I?”

“Clucking warlocks with heads full of rocks.”

“What, is that a line from one of your alma mater’s graduation songs, you clucking magical shrubbery?” he turned to Broderica, “I bet if you could even lay a finger on me your punches would feel like a silk scarf.”

Broderica snorted, “Your godfight sucks.”

“What?” hacked Jeffrey with a G, nearly choking on his own saliva.