"But-but-but you need a royal thaumaturge, and I am that thaumaturge!" sputtered Zanghi Zygote, the handsome silver-haired humanoid, to Tremorroid Enoztrillz, the not handsome new ruler of the Province of Prodeuce. She had just informed our protagonists that they were to be fed to a hairy hole.

  They were all standing in front of the late Che Cavolo’s great glass hall: Enoztrillz and a huge crowd of grim-faced Prodeucers had surrounded Zanghi and his best friend and business partner, the steed-class yokai Crassgass the Gassy Jackass (currently unhitched from the half-a-bug carriage); plus Zanghi’s new friends, the portly blonde humanoid tween Montana “Mono” Shingles, young puppet-class yokai Pucas, and Vira the antennaed puppy-dog-shaped yokai. "You need a thaumaturge and not one of those growing is ripe enough to pick yet. I am greater than any thaumaturge that ever grew in your fertilizer, anyway. Why destroy me?"

  "Well, see, however, while it is true we need a thaumaturge," acknowledged the freshly-picked potentate, "one of our own will be ready to pick in a few days, to take the place of Che Cavolo, whom you viciously dismembered and murdered before his time. I think doing without a thaumaturge for a few days is worth not having to look at your disgusting visage or the misshapen gaggle of mongoloid that follow you around." Then to the crowd surrounding our friends the unpleasant woman with the chayote-shaped head said: "Okay, take all this mess and shove them into the hairy hole."

  A gaggle of Prodeucers baring sharp prickers surrounded our friends.

  "Here, here- stop the insanity!" Crassgass roared, angrily. The jackass suddenly reared up and kicked out his rear legs as hard as he could. A dozen of Prodeucers smashed together and tumbled to the ground, and seeing his success Crassgass yelled:

  "Time to toss a salad!"

  He kicked again and again, charging into the vegetables, knocking them in all directions and sending the others scattering to escape his heels. Vira helped him by bounding into the faces of the short enemies and clawing and biting furiously, and the puppy dog ruined so many complexions that the Prodeucers feared her as much as they did the jackass. Montana and Pucas and Zanghi just did their best to avoid getting pricked or kicked. Pucas projectile vomited on one of the retreating vegetable people.

  But the foes were too many to be repulsed for long. They tired Crassgass and Vira out, and although the field of battle was thickly covered with mashed and disabled enemies, huge throngs of reinforcements arrived and our friends had to give up at last and allow themselves to be driven down a road to a smooth black wall that extended left and right as far as could be seen. It disappeared up into a thick layer of dark grey cumulus clouds, making it impossible to judge its height. Montana realized with horror this must be a side of the Blecch Pyramid whose tip she had seen poking above ground during her walk towards the fartcano dominion, the one Titiana said was filled with darkness and death.

  The Prodeucers drove our friends towards a large tightly-clenched orifice in the wall. One short man with a green toemato-shaped head blew a whistle and the massive hole unpuckered as they approached. The rim of the hole was lined with greasy black hair and the vegetable jerk-faces pricked and prodded our heroes far into the dark, dank opening. Then, having pushed the half-a-bug carriage in after them- for it seemed some of the vegetable dork-butts had dragged it all the way from the Cavolo’s hall- the Prodeucers ran back to the mouth of the hairy hole. With another blow from the whistle it squoze tightly shut with a wet “snap!”, so that the prisoners could not get out. The rays of the multi-colored suns were now shut out from them and they would never see them again for the rest of their lives.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  "This is dreadful!" groaned Crassgass. The gassy jackass let out a slow, squeaky dry fart but found no pleasure in it. The fart smelled like magenta grass and feces.

  "This will be about the end of our adventures, I guess," sighed Mono. Zanghi pulled out the two flashlights, turned them on, and handed one to Mono. They could see they were in a long moist tunnel, and the walls were pulsating and the floors were slightly sticky. Mono experimentally touched the tip of her right pinky to a veiny wall, then pulled it back in alarm and said with a start: “It’s acid! The walls are sweating acid!”

  "What’ll we do?” asked Pucas.

  “Hmmm. Attack the acidic hairy hole, beat it savagely until it unpuckers, make our way out and fight an entire province?" suggested Zanghi.

  "What's the use?" moaned Montana, scratching her scalp through her bright, wavy blonde hair with her left hand. "I'd as soon die in this hole as live much longer among those cruel and heartless vegetable finks."

  "Me too," remarked Pucas, who then threw up again due to nervousness.

  "All right," said Zanghi; "I'm with you. Here, Pucas, wipe your chin off with my handkerchief." Zanghi handed Pucas a light-blue handkerchief from his backpack. Pucas wiped off his mouth and handed it back to Zanghi, who put it in his jacket pocket.

  "How far do you think this tunnel goes?" asked Montana.

  "Let’s find out together," replied Zanghi. Pucas hiccuped. Vira burped. Crassgass farted. "If we followed this tunnel it might lead us to some place that is more comfortable than this clammy pocket we are now in. Or it could lead to an enormous stomach in which we will be digested." Zanghi handed his flashlight to Pucas and began to harness Crassgass to the half-a-bug. When all was in readiness our friends took their seats and the curiously strong yet emaciated Crassgass started cautiously towing them along the way while Pucas and Mono each held a flashlight so the jackass could see where to go.

  The tunnel slanted downward. Sometimes the tunnel was so narrow that the sides of the half-a-bug grazed the walls and sizzled from the drooling acid; then it would broaden out as wide as a hirsute insuffilating viper. Fortunately the sticky floor was usually smooth, and for a long time they traveled on without any incident or accident. Zanghi tried to show his younger friends some magic tricks but it was too dark tor really see anything so they took to tellingjokes. At one point Crassgass stopped and they all slept where they sat for several hours.

  Upon waking they kept steadily moving, and gradually the way grew brighter, and Mono and Pucas turned off their flashlights. The shiny black sides of the tunnel showed before them like the inside of a long spy-glass. Crassgass hastened his lagging steps at this assurance of a quick relief from the dark passage, and in a few moments more they had emerged from the tunnel and found themselves face to face with an exceedingly strange landscape.