When Dr. Krumbunculus woke up that morning to an empty room, only a small part of his back and an even smaller bit of his neck hurt. Why, if he’d been old, every inch of him would’ve hurt. And indeed if he’d still been old, he’d also have been able to cast a spell that made him impervious to nighttime soreness, so the whole mess was an irrelevant net negative.

On leaving the hostile, Dr. Krumbunculus was frustrated to learn that he was genuinely in a bad mood. That is to say that hostiles were known for imparting a certain mood on their residents, a mood that was imparted by a hostilization enchantment—however, usually one felt quite peachy after leaving. Maybe it was another ill effect of his youthfulness that the spell seemed to linger in his mind, Dr. Krumbunculus thought to himself grumpily.

And yes, maybe that was it. Maybe it was an ill effect of youth, or maybe it was sincere and severe dissatisfaction with his current situation. After all, Dr. Krumbunculus’ life had essentially upended itself in a day, for no discernible reason, and, from Dr. Krumbunculus’ perspective, through no true fault of his own. Anyone experiencing such dire circumstances was sure to feel similarly. And now, what was he to do? Trek his way from middle-poor Caldionia to middle-rich Caldonia on some sort of deranged quest to uncurse himself?

Hen to the no, he wasn’t. Dr. Krumbunculus figured only a deranged lunatic prone to alcoholism and arson would attempt such an ass-backward task halffartedly handed to him by a distracted old witch. There had to be some other way.

Suddenly, Dr. Krumbunculus was standing before a large, old building with an orange, triangular front door.

“What the cluck? That definitely wasn’t there a moment ago!”

He squinted. There was a large title above the building, chiseled into stone. It read: THE MAGICALLY TELEPORTING LIBRARY.

“Huh,” Dr. Krumbunculus nodded slowly, “Fascinating enough.”

Without much of a second thought, he wandered on in.

DING DONG

“Heh. Dong,” Dr. Krumbunculus laughed to himself phallically, realizing immediately in embarassment that if he were older and more mature he would’ve never laughed at a bell going ‘ding-dong.’

Taking the scene in, Dr. Krumbunculus saw walls and walls of books, thronging columns of books, a near endless expanse of books upon books upon books…it was terrifying. There was also a small counter in the center of the room, which he promptly shuffled up to, feeling as if it were a beacon to him across a wide sea of aged paper and ink.

“Why, hello hello hello there, and welcome welcome welcome to the magically teleporting library!” giggled a small, floating pixie with enormous breasts, “How can I do you today?”

“Excrete me?” Dr. Krumbunculus rasped, trying and failing to not stare at her heaving chest.

“Sorry, I meant, how can I help you get off today?”

“E-e-excrete me?!”

“As in, how can I help you get off the negative path that you’ve found yourself on?”

“Ohh,” Dr. Krumnbunculus sighed, nodding slowly with mock understanding.

“You seem confused. Listen, I just love helping people get off, that’s why I run this magically teleporting library!”

Dr. Krumbunculus blinked slowly.

“What seems to be your problem, exactly, sirrah? Lack of focus? You might not be masturbating enough, if so. Yes, usually people think it’s the other way around, but I’ve found that—”

“That’s not my problem!!”

“O-ohkay then,” the pixie rolled her eyes and jiggled her tits, “Whatever you say…”

“Listen, my whole life has gone to absolute hen! I lost my job, got evicted, and got cursed with youth!”

“Cursed with youth? Young man,” the pixie cleared her throat, an her voice suddenly resembled that of a fifty year old pack-a-day smoker, “Do you know how hard I twerk to look this young?”

“But I’m a wizard, you hamned woman! Getting turned young sapped a lot of my powers, which were stored in my wrinkles and liver spots and the many free radicals dancing around in my cells!”

“Cells? What the hen is a cell?”

“It’s basic human biology,” Dr. Krumbunculus huffed, “Did you not go to school or something? You’d think a librarian would have to go to school.”

“Not here in Caldonia. Hen, I can’t even read!” Her nipples hardened with frustration, “Stop snickering.”

“I’m not snickering,” snickered Dr. Krumbunculus.

“Yes you are! I’m hearing you snicker!”

“No you’re not hearing me snicker!”

“Yes, I am hearing you snicker! Stop clucking grasslighting me!”

“I’m not grasslighting you. Stop grasslighting me into thinking I’m grasslighting you!”

“I’m not grasslighting you! Stop grasslighting me into thinking I’m grasslighting you into thinking you’re grasslighting me!”

“I’m not grasslighting you! Stop grasslighting me into thinking I’m grasslighting you into thinking you’re grasslighting me into thinking I’m grasslighting you!”

“I’m not—”

“SHUT THE HEN UP!” growled a deep, booming voice that seemed to emanate from a huge face made out of books behind the checkout counter.

“S-sorry, Mister Booksworth,” the pixie stammered.

“Mister Booksworth?” Dr. Krumbunculus snickered once again, “Are you telling me that this big face made out of books is named Mister Booksworth?”

“MAYBE THAT IS WHAT SHE’S TELLING YOU,” Mister Booksworth responded, “WHY DO YOU ASK? DO YOU FIND SOMETHING HUMOROUS ABOUT AN ENTITY MADE OUT OF BOOKS WITH BOOKS FOR A FACE BEING NAMED MISTER BOOKSWORTH? DO YOU THINK I OUGHT TO BE CALLED MISTER HUMANSWORTH? WOULD THAT MAKE MORE SENSE TO YOU?”

Dr. Krumbunculus took a deep breath and raised his hands, “Look, I’m sorry, Mister Booksworth, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“UGH,” Mister Booksworth took a deep, papery sigh, “It’s fine. I’m just a little high strung. It’s been a long time since anybody’s checked me out. I’m sure you understand.”

Dr. Krumbunculus nodded and sighed in key, although he did not at all understand.

“Look, guy, it sounds like you’ve had a pretty miserable time,” Mister Booksworth continued, “In fact, our library only really pops up when that’s the case.”

“Oh really?”

“Yup,” the pixie chimed in, tits all aflutter, “We make sure to help out those who need it the most!”

“More like capitalize on peoples’ misfortunes,” grumbled Mister Booksworth, “But bah, who am I but an animate mass of books.”

“…Weeell,” Dr. Krumbunculus took a deep yet tentative breath, “Do you two have, maybe, like, a book you could suggest me?”

“Oh thank cock I thought you’d never ask!” Mister Booksworth sobbed with joy, “Titsie, bring him the books!”

Titsie the large-titted pixie floated off, giggling with delight.

“Her name’s Titsie?” Dr. Krumbunculus raised an eyebrow at Mister Booksworth.

“What? It was her grandmother’s name.”

“Okay,” Dr. Krumbunculus nodded again.

“You know,” Mister Booksworth continued, “We hope that one day maybe we’ll have a book written about ourselves.”

“Oh, really?” Dr. Krumbunculus held back a hearty guffaw.

“Oh, yes, we’re terribly keen on the idea. I can just see it now, see it in my mind’s eye. MISTER BOOKSWORTH AND TITSIE’S MAGICALLY TELEPORTING LIBRARY. Sounds like a bestseller, eh?”

“Now, Mister Booksworth!” Titsie scolded, floating over with two books in her arms, “We’d both agreed it was to be called TITSIE AND MISTER BOOKSWORTH’S MAGICALLY TELEPORTING LIBRARY, now didn’t we?”

Mister Booksworth grumbled something about women with large tits as he reach a hand, which was literally just a large open book, out and grabbed the two books from Titsie.

“Now,” Mister Booksworth cleared his throat, hacking up a worm, “Here’s how it twerks, guy. You pick one of these two books, ‘mkay? One of ‘em. Not both of ‘em, keep that in mind, you pick one. So pick one book, scan your library card, and we’ll part ways.”

“Um,” Dr. Krumbunculus sneezed into his hand, wiping it on the counter serreptitiously, “Sorry. I feel the need to be impolite on account of my newfound youthfulness.”

“I will allow that,” Mister Booksworth nodded.

“But, as I was saying, I don’t have a library card.”

“Oh, that’s rich! Clucking of course you don’t! No clucking respect!”

“Now, now, Mister Booksworth,” Titsie scolded, “Don’t be so mean. Why, he can have a library card if he wants one. For a small fee.”

“A small fee?” Dr. Krumbunculus felt bile rise in his throat.

“Or,” Mister Booksworth grumbled, “You can shelve some books for us for a few hours if you don’t have the money.”

“Okay. Well. Let me see these books, first.”

Mister Booksworth laid the books out on the counter. They read:

THE POWER OF THE NONCONSCIOUS MIND: ACHIEVE YOUR DREAMS BY DISSOLVING YOURSELF INTO THE COLLECTIVE ANATHEMA

THIEVERY FOR NOVICES: GO FROM DISAPPOINTING PICKPOCKET TO MASTER JEWEL THIEF IN FIVE EASY STEPS

Dr. Krumbunculus felt wary of this mysterious second book, the book on thievery. Five easy steps? That was the language of scammers and con men. Without another thought, he snatched ‘THE POWER OF THE NONCONSCIOUS MIND: ACHIEVE YOUR DREAMS BY DISSOLVING YOURSELF INTO THE COLLECTIVE ANATHEMA’ and darted out of the library, for once praising his youthful acrobatics.

“Oh, cockhamnit,” Mister Booksworth groaned, “Why does that keep happening to us?!”