Flustered and feeling like crying, I simply flopped. I didn’t even manage to find the energy to flop back in my chair like usual; I simple let myself fall over to the floor. Isabella looked up from her reading puzzled and then came over to check on me.

“Are you OK?” She asked, worriedly.

“Nope. I’m doomed.” I pouted up at her and then barked a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “You’re doomed too,” I told her while half-smirking.

“Doomed?” I could tell she was puzzled and confused. “How are you doomed? How are we doomed,” she corrected.

“No more loving for you in the mornings,” I told her.

“Why?!” She sounded perplexed and a little annoyed. I guess I wasn’t explaining things properly, but I just wasn’t in the mood to try very hard. I was simply just disgusted with this whole new world. Gods be damming pants!

“Well, you’re welcome to kiss Little Bud all you want, if you can,” I told her listlessly.

“Fine!” Isabella snorted and reached down to yank off my pants and they didn’t budge. She twisted and pulled on the zipper and then the button a few times before snorting and staring back down at me. “Drake.” She was tapping her foot lightly on the floor. “What exactly is going on here?”

“The stupid pants are cursed. They won’t come off!” I would’ve thought she could see that for herself by now!

“Cursed!” She sounded angry. “Why the hell would you put on cursed pants that you couldn’t take off?”

“Like I knew they were cursed!” Why was she yelling at me for? I was the one stuck in the stupid things!

“Have you tried cutting them off?” She demanded.

“No…”

By the time I’d gotten the first part of no out, Isabella had already stormed over to the kitchen counter, grabbed one of the knives there, and was starting to slide it between the waistline and my skin. She poked and scraped me a few times, in her angry slicing back and forth, but I didn’t even mention it. Compared to the pain of her feeding on me, this little bit of cutting and slicing wasn’t anything.

The pants would cut easily enough, but there were two problems which we were facing: One, the damn things still wouldn’t come off my hips, even with the waistband cut all to hell; and two, the stupid pants would mend themselves up good as new after just a few moments. Apparently cursed items aren’t so easy to get around.

Isabella was white and furious. She was half hopping up and down, and her little hands were clenched tight into fists. “Ooooooh!” She was too flustered to even get words out, as all she did was make strange little sounds (which were kind of cute in their own way, to be honest).

Snorting, she tossed the knife at the kitchen wall and it bounced harmlessly into the sink. Isabella doesn’t have the strength actually to stick a knife in anything when she throws it, but it was starting to calm me somewhat just by seeing how upset she was getting over the matter. I guess she really does like her “morning meals”, and these things definitely wouldn’t allow her the luxury of something like that.

A moment later, she came back over with one of the Christmas skirts and tossed it into my arms. “Hold this,” she demanded. What did she think I was going to do; throw them on the floor? Without even bothering to wait for me to say or do anything, Isabella started chanting and waving her hands back and forth. The glow of blue-white energy appeared in her hands and got brighter and brighter before finally fading out.

“GAH!” She stomped up and down in frustration. Maybe those oversized breasts weren’t as bad as I’d first thought. I was beginning to enjoy watching how dynamically fluid they could become when she got excited! “I can’t do anything with enchantments yet, unless they’re on metal! I can’t move the curse into the skirt.”

Tapping her foot, Isabella looked over and stared me in the eyes. She used to have to look up at me, but since the last change to her body, she was now as tall as I was and could look me eye-to-eye easily. “There’s only one thing left to do,” she told me.

“Uhhhh…” I don’t think I like that look!

“You’ve got to die!”

Oh shit! I really don’t like that look! “Wai… wait a moment! Can’t we talk this over?!” I was starting to back up and work my way to the door. Isabella really loved her morning meals apparently!

“Oh don’t worry,” she told me while tapping her foot rhythmically on the floor. “I’m not going to be the one to do it this time. You got yourself into this mess. You and your goblin-ball blade can get yourself out of it. Let’s see how she feels after she’s killed you a few more times!”

Oh hell! She’s serious!

Holding up my hands in defeat, I slowly backed out the door and into the hall. I guess even Isabella has a limit before she blows her cool completely, and apparently ‘Cursed Pants of No Morning Meal’ are her limit. I guess me putting them on right after Brandr had already annoyed her and gotten her dander up didn’t help any.

Dejected and brooding, I sulked down the hall until I heard Buster’s annoying yip-yap up on the rooftop, so I worked my way up there. Brandr had her blade out and she was slashing and chopping at Buster, who was dancing around and trying to catch the tip of her sword in his mouth. She didn’t seem to be pulling the blows any, and her blade made solid whacking sounds each time she connected with the little beast. She hit it hard enough that most blows would knock it end over end and for a loop, but she never broke its skin and it never seemed to actually be hurt by the attack.

Brandr could chop the head off a Christmas Event Boss Mob like Santa, but she couldn’t actually put a single scratch on the little mutt! Just what the hell did it take to hurt something like it? Devil, I hope we never meet anything like it as an opponent! (Stupid gods, you won’t see me accidently pray to you anymore. I’m a certified ‘Devil-pray-to’er now!) After watching the commotion for a while, I finally walked over and waved at the two of them.

Brandr quit and saluted me with her sword, while Buster kept running around like an idiot chasing the shadow of it. I don’t know what he thought he was going to do to something like a shadow, but he was after it.

Sighing, and resigning myself to my fate, I took and deep breath and commanded, “My Blade, I have a task of utmost importance for you. I cannot explain at the moment, but it is essential that you strike me down and remove my head from my shoulders, right now...”

DING!

You have been slain!

Congratulations, your party has slain another Human!

Your party gains 25 Infamy!

You SPR decreases by 1!

Your total Human kills is: 5

You need 5 more kills to unlock the Mass Murderer achievement.

What the hell?!

Brandr had killed me before I’d even finished talking! Her speed with that blade was faster than I could follow when she got serious. Cloudme just floated there in shock as she went back to practicing with Buster as if nothing in the world had changed.

Was my life really that easy to take? Isabella has killed me three times now. Brandr twice. Is that any way to treat the people you’re supposed to care about? Shouldn’t she at least have asked why? Or let me finish explaining? Or maybe even felt guilty?

Never, ever, neverever will I understand women!