‘So,’ said Armwrestle, ‘This is quite the coincidence.’

Legcramp was still sore, but now he had sand in his eyelids too. This was easily in the upper percentile of his worst days ever. He shakily climbed to his feet, observing the beach he had washed up on. The beach was remarkably beach-like. It had sand, water, air, all those trappings of a typical beach. Armwrestle, rather than her overdone leather getup, was wearing a tribal tunic made of leaves and bones. Her collar was gone, too.

‘I thought…’ Legcramp coughed out a lobster. It scuttled back into the ocean. ‘I thought you were lost in the spacetime continuum or something.’

‘I was,’ Armwrestle said. ‘Until I popped out on this island about three hundred years back.’

Legcramp blinked. ‘Oh. And how was that?’

‘Could be better. Armwrestle replied.

The pair stood in awkward silence.

‘So…’ said Armwrestle. ‘How’s that thing with the FSSSSSSSSSS going?’

‘Could be better. Hey, is it just me or is that acronym—‘

‘Oh, hey man!’ interrupted a familiar voice.

Legcramp turned to see a skeleton walking towards him. No, it wasn’t just any skeleton. Legcramp would recognize those cheekbones anywhere.

‘Skeleton?’ he asked.

‘It sure is, man,’ said Skeleton. ‘Wow, it feels like exactly three-thousand, eight-hundred and fourty-six words since we last spoke!’

‘Funny that,’ Legcramp said.

Armwrestle wrapped her arms around the two. ‘It’s like a big ‘ol family union!’

Legcramp glared at her. ‘What’s going on here?’

Skeleton grinned at him in that weird way skeletons do. ‘Nothing much, man. Just gonna sacrifice you to our sun god a little bit.’

‘Sacrifice me?’ Legcramp asked.

‘Yeah, man.’

‘A little bit?’

‘Just a tiny bit, man. Won’t hurt.’

‘How did you even get here?’

‘Flew, man.’

‘Can skeletons do that?’

‘If you put your mind to it, anything’s possible, man.’

Legcramp shoved Armwrestle’s arm off. ‘I can’t get sacrificed yet.’

Skeleton gave a nervous grin that looked exactly like all his other grins. ‘Sorry, man. I kinda got a Mesoamerican empire waiting for a vampiric blood sacrifice.’

‘Can they wait just a little longer?’ Legcramp asked. ‘I still need to destroy humanity.’

Skeleton pursed his figurative lips. ‘Hmmm… Sorry, man. Gotta sacrifice you.’

Legcramp rubbed his eyes in frustration. ‘Can’t you sacrifice Wrestle instead?’

Skeleton turned to Armwrestle, a questioning look in his figurative eyes. Armwrestle grimaced and shook her head.

‘No can do, man.’

Armwrestle, her power unrestrained by any collar, punched Legcramp in the stomach. It felt like being punched in the stomach, which sucked because, for Legcramp, being punched in the stomach normally felt like being tickled by a butterfly. Legcramp keeled over in pain. Hoisting him up onto her shoulder, Armwrestle began her trek inland, with Skeleton floating behind.

Skeleton’s empire was just about every cliché regarding tribes and ancient civilizations rolled into one. Massive, moss-laden ziggurats dotted the tropical landscape. Tents of animal skin and roaring bonfires dominated the ground between them. The actual citizens of the empire themselves were, naturally, all skeletons. Whether they had been skeletons before Skeleton took over, or if Skeleton was somehow responsible for this was a mystery. Unable to fight Armwrestle with his collar on, Legcramp let himself be carried through the camp. Skeleton waved to his subjects, and they bowed in response, clearing a path to a very sacrificial looking alter. Legcramp rolled his eyes. It was a very uninspired setup for a sacrifice. He was also vaguely aware of his skin evaporating under the harsh sunlight, which added to his general annoyance. Armwrestle climbed the stairs to the alter and flopped Legcramp onto it like a sack of steaming potatoes. This, too, was annoying.

Legcramp was annoyed.

‘Hey man, pass the dagger,’ Skeleton whispered to a nearby subject of his.

The subject complied gracefully, presenting Skeleton with a rusted shard of metal. In one swift motion, Skeleton tossed the dagger in the air, caught it, then rammed it into Legcramp’s throat. Legcramp could feel the heat of the sun baring down on him. He hated it. Somewhere in the sky was Venus, where his ancestors where probably laughing at him for being so stupid. Legcramp hated them too. Skeleton’s skeletons surrounded him, chittering and chanting and generally being annoying. Legcramp hated them. Skeleton and Armwrestle stood over him, looking a little uncomfortable but mostly quite pleased with themselves. Legcramp hated them. Come to think of it, there was a lot Legcramp hated. That was really his main character trait. There was one thing he didn’t hate, however: the dagger in his throat. It was hundreds of years old, at least. Potentially thousands. Legcramp could feel the history coming off of it in plumes. He hadn’t had a feast like this in a long time. With unparalleled vigor, Legcramp grabbed the dagger’s hilt and hiked it upwards, slicing through his collar with ease. He pulled it out, reminding himself to get checked for tetanus after all was said and done, and threw it at Skeleton. The dagger pieced Skeleton’s throat. Or rather it would have, if Skeleton had a throat. Instead it just passed right by his spine and into the crowd below. Armwrestle put her hands on her hips and gave a sharp breath through her teeth.

‘Guess I shoulda anticipated this, huh?’ she said.

Legcramp threw a punch. Armwrestle countered it with her own. Their fists met, producing a shockwave that knocked Skeleton off the platform. They began to trade blows. Their arms were blurs, attacking and deflecting faster than the eye could process. Armwrestle jumped back, squirting high-pressure blood from her soles to give her a boost. With a grunt, she reached into her chest and tore out two sharpened ribs. Legcramp bent over, snapped his own spine and made a whip from hardened spinal fluid. Saliva dripped from his fangs in excitement. Vampire fights were always cool. With his spinal whip, Legcramp lassoed Armwrestle and pulled her in close. She sliced off his head with her ribs, causing him to waste a precious half-second growing a new one. He roared and squirted lemon juice from his eyes, which he didn’t even know he could do. The juice went straight into Armwrestle’s eyes, blinding her. Taking the opportunity, Legcramp formed a boxing glove of hardened bone and socked Armwrestle in the stomach. As always, revenge was a dish best served with violence. She flew backwards, but was stopped by Legcramp’s lasso. Readying his boxing glove, Legcramp pulled her in once more, dropped his lasso, and sucker punched Armwrestle right in the teeth. With a mighty boom, Armwrestle shot off way into the horizon, likely to ruin the day of whoever she landed on.

With a deep breath, Legcramp shoved his spinal fluid back into his spine, and let his bone gauntlets crumble into dust.

‘I’m gonna need your empire, Skeleton,’ he said.