The Peacemaker 2: Part 1: Colon

A/N: A number of these old stories were or had direct sequels. This is the first of them. The titles will indicate as such, for I will upload them in the order they were written, which often isn't the order that makes the most sense within the Mandaran Cycle.

"Are we there yet?" asked Louis the skeleton. "My bony feet hurt from all the walking."

"No, Louis," said Wizman, P.I., the baddest-ass wizard-for-hire in all of Mandara. "We aren't there yet." The pair was walking down a path at about noon on the way to a village in search of work. The money Wizman earned from that last job where some mom paid him to brutally slaughter her kid and the friends he smoked that dub-dub with would be able to get both him and Louis up to their necks in mead. Did you catch that? A mother paid money to have her son and his friends killed. I just feel like I need to reiterate that because of how fucking insane it is. Damn, son. Life is hard for a young thug in Mandara.

The two entered the town of Pule. As they walked down the main street, people shot dirty looks at Louis. One guy put his fist into his other hand aggressively. Another guy slammed his fists down aggressively. Another dude put his fist in a guy's butt while that guy looked at Louis right in the eyes. Aggressively.

"Wizman, I don't feel safe here," said the worried skeleton minion.

"Don't worry," said Wizman, "If anyone wants to try some shit, I'll put them in their place." As if on cue, a large peasant stood in the path of the duo.

"Stop right there you scrawny little magic user!" bellowed the beast of a man. His brawn could only be matched by his lack of brain; both were incredibly great. "You ain't nothing but a fuqqboi that's about to die!" The peasant flexed his large, muscular body. You could see his hard-ass nipples through his oily rags. Wizman was not impressed.

"Hold my staff," said the Peacemaker as he handed Louis the platinum staff. Wizman cracked his knuckles once. "Quest for the Skull Harvester" off of Bonsword's album The First Burn began playing. The crowd went buck-ass wild. Wizman walked towards the peasant calmly. The peasant threw punches, but Wizman expertly dodged each one and continued his slow walk towards the brute. Suddenly, Wizman pinched the peasant's furrowed brow and everything stopped. The audience held its breath. The wizard then pulled all of the peasant's skin and clothes off. The brute screamed in pain.

"Oh god, why?!" yelled the brute. Wizman wasted no time in summoning a large pit. He then kicked the brute into in and he landed in a pile of sand, splinters, sliced lemons, and rusty nails. Everyone peered over the edge of the pit to look inside. The brute thrashed and screamed in there for 3 whole hours before he gave up and died.

"Daaaaaaaayuuuuuum," said Louis, finally.

"Well, I guess our business here is concluded," said Wizman as he rolled down his sleeves, retrieved his staff from Louis, and continued his walk through the village.

"Uh, yeah! That's right!" shouted Louis. "Don't fuck wit it unless you wanna get buck wit it, fool! Don't play with my boy Wizman! Oh oooohh!" Louis continued to hype up Wizman as they both approached the castle of the local noble, Cabrus 'the Great'. The duo stood at the gates.

"Do you have an appointment with Lord Cabrus?" asked the guard. Without a word, Wizman drew from his wallet that bag of gold he got from that last job. He tossed it to the guard and he opened it. He was star-struck. "Wow! There must be, like, 50 gold pieces in here! That's more gold than I've seen in my life!"

"That's more gold than I've ever even heard about," said the guard next to him.

"What's that shiny stuff you got down there?" asked a guard in the gatehouse leaning out of the window. Before we could go into these guards and their discovery of the vices of the capitalist mode of production and of how Cash Rules Everything Around Me, Wizman and Louis made their way into the keep. The duo entered the throne hall to a royal fanfare. Cabrus, a middle aged noble in rich clothing stepped towards them with his arms out.

"Ah, Wizman, P.I.! I have been expecting you," said Cabrus. "You certainly know how to keep a man waiting don't you?" Cabrus peered at Wizman's skeleton companion. "Who exactly is, uh, the bone-boy?"

"I'm Louis and if you don't like it, you can felate my nonexistent skeleton dick!" said Louis.

"Nice," Wizman said as he gave him a thumbs up. Cabrus did not know how to respond.

"Anyway, I have a job for someone with your particular set of skills," said Cabrus.

"Who do I look like, Liam Neeson? From Taken? And Taken 2? And Taken 3 maybe?" questioned Wizman rhetorically.

"I don't know who that is, but anyway, here's the job: go to the lair of 'The Master' and kill him. Please bring his head to me on one of his silver plates. he keeps them in the cupboard next to the sink, behind his blender and on top of his rice cooker," Cabrus said.

"How do you know the contents of 'The Master's' cupboard?" asked Louis with his bony self.

"Look at the quest marker in the compass bar," said Cabrus. Louis and Wizman looked up and, sure enough, there was a Skyrim-esque compass bar with a quest marker to the south.

"Well," said the Peacemaker, "Let's get on out of this shithole."

"You said it boss," said Louis. The pair made their way out of the place as "Quest for the Skull Harvester" ended in a violent flourish.

Cut to black as Wizman makes the first step out of the keep.

Fade up on more guitar solos to the words "THE END" in big red letters.

Cut to black.

Fade up on a foghorn with a picture of Steve Urkle with the words "Did I do that?" written underneath because I forgot to put a mythical beast in this story.

Wizman and Louis were walking in the forest on their way to The Master. Louis had his swag on 250 when suddenly a raccoon scurried into the road and stood up on its hind legs.

"Aw, what a cutie pie!" said Louis as he leaned down to eye level with the raccoon.

"Fuck you, you bony-ass bitch!" said the raccoon in a comically deep and large voice.

"Woah! No need to be hateful, little guy," said Louis.

"Little guy, huh?" questioned the raccoon. "Why don't you tell your bony wife how 'little' my raccoon nuts are, huh?" He then pointed to his stank-ass raccoon crotch. It was no lie; them balls were damn big. So yeah. That's what's mythical about the raccoon. It has big nuts and it talks.

TO BE CONTINUED