“We have a bigger problem,” began CJ looking out over the grill. There were at least eight islands he could see and one of the hot dogs was starting to char on the grill side making it wriggle around a bit. “Trust. I can’t really trust you and if we are going to be launching ourselves from bun to bun, how do I know you won’t just push me into the burning coals?”

  “You don’t. I could stay here. Failing one more time wouldn’t be the end of the world. As soon as I go back the damn thing jumps back into me. I don’t know how to stop it.” Replied Skipper with both hands on his head. His singed beard showed grayer than CJ remembered.

  “Tell me exactly how it jumps back into you.”

  “I appear back in the hallway off the office. I don’t get more than two steps before I can hear him yelling in my ear again.”

  “That’s not a lot of time. Is there a spell or incantation? Maybe he gave you a possessed object.”

  “No, he…the pitchfork. Typically, I lean the pitchfork against the wall in the hallway. This time it’s in the office. I didn’t bring it with me before dashing in behind you. It couldn’t be that simple. Could it?”

  “Let’s go with that for now.”

  CJ watched as his loan shark paced back and forth tugging on his beard with a wild look in his eyes. None of this would address the trust issues surrounding running this dungeon with him at their backs. Then he had a thought.

  “Ready to make a deal with a different devil?” CJ asked as he accessed his Fey Lineage ability.

  You have been offered a mana bound contract: Agreement of safe passage- While traveling through this dungeon the First Party, herein known as CJ Thompson and Monty, promises not to intentionally injure or seek to cause harm to the Second Party, herein known as Skipper, outside of self-defense as long as the Second Party agrees to do likewise. Mana bound contracts will consume the offending Parties mana to enforce compliance with the agreed upon spirit of the contract. Do you agree? Y/N

  CJ read over the contract on his slate before offering it to Skipper through their slates. Skipper could be seen visibly reading the message over as the sound of flesh tearing could be heard from the grill. They’d been standing here no longer than five minutes but the hot dogs had begun to split from their casings.

  “Decide fast or we’re leaving you here.” CJ pronounced before reading some cards and turning himself so that he face both Skipper and his first jump into the grill.

  “How did…how does…Yes, I’m sorry. Years of dealing with deadbeats looking for a way to get out of their responsibilities has ingrained a habit of re-reading anything put before me. I agree and let me reiterate. I need your help. I have no intention of backstabbing you. I want my life back.”

  “Don’t worry, the contract will make sure of it.”

  With that CJ leapt the small gap onto the first spongy bread island and began dashing forward. Monty was hot on his heels and Skipper surprisingly caught up quickly. Under the orange glow of the BBQ pit light, CJ could see Skipper a little more clearly. The clothes on his left side were all singed and his hair on that side was almost all burned away. There was burn scarring on his left ear as well. CJ took all this in at a glance as

  Skipper pulled ahead of him. It looked like he was sprinting to try and keep up with CJ. He had some levels on him and must have put some points into Speed. A sesame seed popped up from the bun as they passed, and Skipper batted it away without a second look.

  “This way, be careful, the gap here is a little wider and the heat really ramps up once we make it to the center of the grill. Also, just before we get to the end there will be a hot dog too close to ignore. We’ve taken some time before starting the run so I’m not sure how cooked it will be when we get to it. The hotter they get the more chance they’ll spew boiling grease at us. Stay on your toes.”

  “Lovely.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  After another five minutes of running, Skipper began to slow down. CJ didn’t know if it was the combination of the heat and bad footing, but the Skipper was huffing and puffing.

  New Message from Monty: Stamina. He has a stamina bar. Your boon lets you keep going without tiring. Take the lead. I’ll watch him.

  “I’ve got the lead. Point where we need to go.” Said CJ before a pop and sizzle got all their attention.

  One of the hotdogs had rolled over and was now blocking their path forward. The casing on the end began to rupture and a spray of boiling oil fountained from it in their direction.

  “Get down!” screamed Skipper before throwing himself to the buns surface.

  CJ couldn’t dodge in time as he was closest. Dropping down to the ground would have just given him a full body blast of the oily eruption. So instead, he held up his right arm and the torrent of scalding oil spun up his sleeve as his Examiners Robes fluttered into existence. The wider more expansive cuffs at the end of his arm greedily drew in the gout of oil. Once the danger had passed, CJ looked across the bun to see the offending hot dog rising up into the air like an elephant’s trunk.

  The massive tube of ground up horse hooves and pig lips now had sunken eyes on either side of its round face. The majority of the wrinkled end spooled open to display rows of jagged teeth only someone from New Castle could love.

  “Fuck! I miss my shotgun.” Complained Skipper now getting back to his feet.

  “Can we get around it?” asked Monty avoiding the parts of the bun soaking up the left over oil.

  “The only way out is through.” replied CJ as he held a hand toward Skipper. The butt of a pump action shotgun appeared poking out of his sleeve. Skipper went wide eyed before reaching for it only to have CJ bend his arm up at the elbow. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  CJ’s arm came back down, and skipper took the shotgun with reverence. He checked the chamber before racking it and pointing it toward the monster.

  “Only five shells.”

  “You’ll get more if your good.”

  “Will the two of you stop flirting and kill the big monster please! Earth fist isn’t working. It must not consider this bun to be earth.” yelled Monty as he ran backward avoiding the maw of the creature as it bit into the bun island gouging a huge mouth sized hole in the side.

  Skipper began firing aiming at the small, recessed eyes on its head causing it to wrench back. CJ sprinted in the opposite direction so the beast wouldn’t have one large target to go after. He then began launching card after card at the almost impossible to miss creature. Thirteen cards stuck in the monsters hide, all diamonds. Everyone including the king. It was spewing oil from almost every cut and the shotgun was ripping away chunks of meat each time. Skipper was holding onto the last shot wile the giant hot dog wavered back and forth.

  It was in its death throws from being cooked and attacked by its enemies on the bun. CJ’s team wasn’t faring much better. Skipper was swaying from heat exhaustion and CJ wasn’t doing much better. Monty was the first to go down. CJ now had the bunny under his left arm. One fully charged joker card and a leap out of the grill was all that was left to do. The hot dog had positioned itself between them and the exit.

  “We have to use its corpse to get out of here. Skipper, I want you to blast it from underneath forcing its head up, then I’m going to kill it.”

  That proclamation was met with a curt nod from Skipper. CJ converted his robes back to his tuxedo configuration. Then he signaled for Skipper to attack. The shotgun wielder dashed forward before dropping to his knees and sliding forward. The monster lurched toward him and caught a shotgun blast to the chin for its efforts. It hauled its head up and away from the pain as a playing card arced through the air in a sickle pattern before landing in its open mouth. Large bulges began appearing up and down the creature’s body before the whole thing thrashed left and right. It rolled over, exposing its charred and mangled underside. Finally, it stopped moving entirely.

  There was now a blazing hot semi-solid ramp leading up and out of the grill planes. The underside of the beast having crisped up nicely, it became solid footing for their escape. CJ sprinted up its remains Monty held securely in hand and Skipper right beside hm.

  After crossing out of the grill panes the temperature dropped like a stone. Above them two streaks of light launched into the sky creating standard fireworks patters of stars and three dimensional circles. CJ checked on Monty. He was breathing shallowly but it looked like he was going to recover.

  “What’s next?” asked CJ while he mentally checked his inventory. He was growing dangerously low on playing cards.

  “The beer river. It’s just as it says. A river of beer. No idea how we’re supposed to navigate it.”

  “I’ll scout it out while you two rest. Gimme a second to get the lay of the land and both of you can catch your breath. Sound good? Great.” Replied CJ as he walked forward toward the new landscape ahead of him.

  The terrain turned white plastic with a marked drop in temperature. To either side of CJ were white plastic walls that lead up to icy cliff sides. Right through the middle, bobbed numerous cubes of ice in what looked like a pale copper river. The river itself was being fed by enormous cans of beer on top of the icy cliffs. They were tipped over and the golden fluid poured out from the wide mouthed cans seemingly without end. The river ran due west toward the opposite side he was standing on. At his feet was a sloped plastic ramp that lead down into the river valley.

  “The fuckin American dream right here.”