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.
