Bungo’s head appeared; looming over the side of the lumbering vessel like the pale face of some prehistoric turtle poking out of its shell. Without a moment’s delay he vomited profusely down the flank of the ship with all the subtlety of an erupting geyser; pouring an eclectic spray of foodstuffs into the tumultuous deeps below.
“I was born for the sea!” declared Bungo boomingly; springing back onto the deck with feigned enthusiasm. He seemed oblivious to the strings of saliva that dangled grotesquely from his decidedly pale visage, or the fact that he’d been sea sick for hours.
“That…” Shallica began shakingly “was the grossest thing I have ever seen”. In truth it wasn’t so much the vomiting that was disgusting, but the fact that Bungo had been variously eating and vomiting ever since the storm had broken over 4 hours earlier. Her words went unheeded; the oafsome barbarian was already sitting down to another plate of frothy gruel and an even frothier tankard of Bunk Swill.
Just as Bungo was struggling to fasten a fresh napkin around his neck, there was a sudden thunder-crack that seemed to be forewarning for the largest wave yet. Salty spray lashed across the vessel; batting a few unwary seafarers from the deck and into the ocean below. The waves broke against Bungo’s manly chest pathetically, but his dinner was dashed to the ground and ruined. In truth it was probably just cutting out the middle man, but Bungo furrowed his brow in annoyance nonetheless.
“Duck!” Shallica’s suddenly leapt to the floor as the mast spun on its axis; caught in a deadly crosswind, and the massive beam swung across the deck.
“Duck for dinner?” Bungo pondered “I think I’d like another Hero Sausage actually…” he was stopped mid flow as the colossal wooden plank collided with the back of his head; eliciting an explosive crash that for a moment even seemed to drown out the sound of the storm. The Barbarian swayed on his feet unsteadily; incredibly surviving the blow that would have caved in the skull of a lesser man. He teetered and lurched a single step forwards; his mouth opening slightly.
“and another Bunk-Swill…” The words left his mouth in a whisper, before he fell limply to the deck.
“I love a good storm” Janboe swaggered through the cabin door, before slamming it behind him. A dangerously swinging lantern rocked from side to side in time to the vessel’s undulating movement, revealing the interior of the room in a hazy orange glow. Bungo lay unconscious on a gaudy bed with his head wrapped in an unnecessary quantity of bandages, Shallica was standing watch over his uncharacteristically prone form.
“The sky…” Janboe seemed to be speaking mostly to himself “all rumbling and grinding … heaving with passion.” He seemed to be building up enthusiasm for some reason. “Spraying the whole world with its fertile juices, and getting it all wet…” His voice went shrill with excitement at the end.
“I’m going back outside!” He opened the door again and rushed from the room. In the distance Shallica could hear him babbling something about “throbbing” and “engorged”, but she didn’t want to pry any further than that. She assumed he’d come to check on the Barbarian, but it was just as likely that he had come to see why the peepholes had been blocked, despite the fact that the ship was leaking worse than a butt-goblin’s sanitation pad.
The irrelevant question was soon forgotten as Bungo groaned, listlessly.
“Where am I?” Bungo’s words were barely audible above the crash of the waves.
Shallica looked down at him in relief with tears in her slitted demonic eyes; before lovingly crushing his face against her ample Succubaean bosom.
“Bungo! You’re alright!” she cried; a panic leaden edge leaving her words a strangely shrill pitch. Unfortunately, what happened next would dash her hopes to the very depths of despair; much like Bungo’s spoiled dinner.
“Who am I?” the barbarian’s question came in a cleavage-muffled groan.
Bungo’s amnesia had begun.