"Hello?" a voice echoed from some distance away. Cooper's voice.

Julian opened his eyes, but it did him no good. He was engulfed in complete darkness. The floor he lay on was rough damp stone. It felt slimy on his fingertips.

"Hello?" Cooper said again. "Come on, man. Talk to me!"

Shit.

"Are you alive or not?"

Shit shit.

"I swear to God, if you don't speak to me, I'm going to take a dump in your head."

What?

"Cooper?" Julian called out.

"Julian?"

"Who are you talking to?"

"The bucket in my cell."

"Oh." That raised a number of questions in Julian's mind, but the most prominent was, "Why?"

"Common courtesy," said Cooper. "I don't want to shit in it if it's magically alive, do I?"

That made more sense than Julian was anticipating. "You're a good man, Cooper."

Though Julian knew in his mind and in his heart what the following sounds and smells were, he tried to convince himself that it was just a forty-year-old can of spray cheese. If that bucket was alive, it must have a hell of a Willpower Save.

"Jesus Christ!" shouted Tim from Julian's left. "What the fuck is that?"

"I think that blueberry wine was laced with something," said Cooper. "It's giving me the runs."

"Where are you? Specifically, I mean. And more general, where the hell are –" CLANG "Son of a bitch!"

"We're in some kind of dungeon," said Cooper. "Our cell doors are locked."

"Thanks, Cooper," said Tim. "I just found that out... with my face."

Someone was still unaccounted for. Julian took a moment to clear the cobwebs out of his mind.

"Ravenus!" said Julian when he was able to focus. "Has anyone seen Ravenus?"

"No," said Dave from the cell adjacent to Julian's. "But I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

Shit. "I was going to say you next."

"No you weren't. Shut up."

"Come on, man," said Julian. "He's my familiar, and you're..."

"I'm what?"

Julian frowned. "I... I don't actually know how to finish that sentence."

Slow clapping from Dave's cell echoed annoyingly through the dark dungeon. "Well done, Captain Diplomacy. I'd say that's what a Natural 1 sounds like."

"Uh-uh," said Tim. "That was a piss poor Diplomacy roll to be sure, but a better example of a Natural 1 is when you talk about your goddamn dead grandmother while sporting a raging hard-on."

"That wasn't my fault!" said Julian. "It was Ravenus."

Cooper snorted. "I guess that explains why he was worried more about the bird than you, Dave."

Tim, Dave, and Cooper shared a laugh.

Julian pointed middle fingers in the directions Cooper's and Dave's voices were coming from, as they were the only ones who could see in the dark. "You know what? Fuck all of you."

Dave stopped laughing. "How are we going to get out of here? Tim, can you pick the lock on your cell door?"

"I don't think so," said Tim. "Not in the dark with nothing to use but my dick."

"Okay," said Dave. "How about you, Cooper?"

"I don't think my dick will even fit in the hole."

"No, stupid! I meant can you break through the door with your Barbarian Rage?"

"I can give it a shot." Cooper breathed in and out a few times. "I'm really angry!"

A series of grunts and groans started in low, then rose to a crescendo joined by the clanging of steel bars, and finally petered out with a long wet fart... and possibly some shit.

Cooper took a few more breaths. "Um... no."

"Shit!" said Dave. "That leaves you, Julian. Do you have any spells memorized that can get us out of here?"

Julian shrugged. "I have Mount."

"Of course you do." Dave sighed. "Well, give it a try, I guess."

Julian stood up and waved his arms around to make sure he had enough room in the cell to summon a horse. Satisfied, he pointed his hand at the floor.

"Horse!"

Displaced air shifted around him. His summoned horse whinnied nervously. Being called into existence would be disconcerting enough without being in total darkness as well.

Julian groped the air until he found the horse's mane, and stroked it gently. "Easy, girl... or boy." He couldn't tell if it was male or female in the dark without groping around for its junk.

The horse calmed its trembling and whinnying as a stream of pungent urine loudly splattered the floor under it.

"That's okay, buddy," said Julian, continuing to stroke its mane. "You feel better now?"

"Julian!" said Tim. "How about a little less bonding and a little more door kicking?"

"Alright! Give me a second." Julian discovered that his cell wasn't quite as big as he thought. It took some maneuvering to get the horse completely turned around. "Okay, friend. Let's see what you've got. Give us a good kick."

The horse leaned down and kicked its rear legs back. There was a loud clang of hoof against steel.

"Nice job!"

"Not nice enough," said Cooper. "The door didn't budge. They're strong as fuck."

Dave sighed. "I figured that would be the case after Cooper couldn't break it."

"Well shit," said Tim. "Now what do we do?"

"Now we wait," said Dave.

"Wait for what?"

"Yeah," said Cooper. "That plan sucks ass."

Dave cleared his throat. "If you'd let me explain." When everyone remained quiet, he continued. "I've been thinking about this. We've obviously come in somewhere in the middle of the movie. Bella has already succumbed to Stockholm Syndrome, which is why the Beast allows her to come and go as she pleases. But we know we haven't gotten to the end yet, because all the servants are still furniture and shit."

"So what?" said Tim.

"Yeah, seriously," said Cooper. "I mean, I'm sorry your childhood was so shitty that it earned you an encyclopedic knowledge of a little girl movie, but how the fuck is that supposed to get us out of these cells?"

"I'm just saying that maybe we can exploit our knowledge –"

"Your knowledge."

"Fine, asshole," said Dave. "My knowledge of the story to our advantage."

Julian guided his horse back around to face the cell door. "I'm not even convinced that we're 'in' the movie. I mean sure, there are similarities, but we don't know for sure that Mordred ripped off the entire script."

"It's all we've got to work with," said Dave. "And if I'm right, then I think our best chance of escaping is when that dickhead... What's his name, Garçon? Anyway, when he and the villagers come to raid the house."

"Sorry," said Julian. "It's been a while since I've seen the film, but didn't the villagers get their asses kicked?"

"Yes. But we are outside variables. Tim has already killed one of the Beast's servants."

Julian sighed. The little flicker of hope Dave had given him was snuffed out. "You really think taking out Crack Baby is going to turn the tide of battle?"

"Hey shitheads," said Tim. "For the record, that was an accident, and I kinda feel bad about it. So could you maybe shut the fuck up?"

"I'm talking about the butterfly effect," said Dave.

"That shitty Ashton Kutcher movie?" said Cooper. "Shit, I was way off. I thought we were talking about... Hold up, I don't remember any talking teacups in The Butterfly Effect."

"Not the movie, idiot. The scientific principle that tiny variables can lead to enormous differences in –"

A door creaked open to Julian's left, beyond Dave and Tim's cells, letting in the faintest flickering light. The light grew stronger as Waxoff shuffled into view, followed by the squeaky-wheeled drink trolley. Mr. Potter sat on top, but his children were absent.

"Jackoff!" said Cooper. "What the fuck, man? Let us out of here."

Julian cleared his throat. "His name is Waxoff."

"Whatever. I'm not good with names."

Waxoff raised his candle arms and his hand-flames flared up like torches. "Silence!" When his flames died back down to normal, he continued in a calm tone. "Ze prisoners will present their soup buckets."

"Fuck," said Cooper. "That's a soup bucket?"

Julian knew it was pointless, but felt he had to make a token effort at Diplomacy. "Why are we locked up? Why are you doing this?"

While Mr. Potter vomited soup into the buckets Tim and Dave held out to him, Waxoff shuffled to Julian's cell and narrowed his eyes at the horse.

"What is zis dumb animal doing in here?"

Don't volunteer any information. Keep them guessing. "How should I know?" said Julian. "I just woke up."

Waxoff raised his eyebrows and smiled at Julian. "Ha ha! Ze joke is on your, monsieur! I was talking to ze horse!"

"Wow," said Cooper. "I haven't heard a joke that shitty since... um... Dave, when's the last time you made a joke?"

"Soup bucket!" snapped Mr. Potter. The trolley had now rolled in front of Julian and Cooper's cells.

"Fuck off," said Cooper. "I'm not hungry.

Tim and Dave paused their slurping to laugh. Poor Cooper. But Julian had to admit, it was kind of funny.

Mr. Potter turned to face Julian. "And you?"

It occurred to Julian that he might make a show of solidarity with Cooper by joining him in a hunger strike, but neither Mr. Potter nor Waxoff seemed the slightest bit put off by Cooper's refusal to eat. Anyway, he would need the energy.

He looked around his cell, now illuminated by Waxoff's flames. He found his bucket under his horse, filled to the rim with horse piss.

"Shit," said Julian. Back to the hunger strike. He straightened and folded his arms. "I'm not hungry either!"

Waxoff shrugged. "Suit yourself." He continued past Julian and Cooper's cells, and the trolley followed.

As the light from Waxoff's candles moved further down the hall, another prisoner held his bucket out from the cell next to Cooper's. His face was obscured by long, matted hair, but Julian figured him for a human from the look of his large filthy hands.

When the other prisoner had been served his paltry ration of soup, Waxoff led Mr. Potter's trolley back to the dungeon entrance.

Julian waited a full minute, once again engulfed in darkness, before addressing the mysterious stranger.

"Excuse me," Julian called out. "I know you're there. I saw your hands. Who are you?"

"Why don't you ask the dwarf?" said the stranger. His voice was deep, but rough, like it hadn't been used in a while.

Julian turned his head the other way, staring into pitch-black darkness in the other direction. "Dave? Friend of yours?"

"I have no idea who he is," said Dave. "I didn't even see his hands."

"I am the one you spoke of," said the stranger. "My name is Garçon."

"Shit!" said Dave. "If you're here, then –"

"That is correct. The battle you spoke of is not in the future, but in the past. Nearly one month ago, by my calculation. A terrible catastrophe. My hubris brought many a good man to an early and grisly death."

"But you managed to survive," said Tim, his tone suggesting just a hint of accusation.

Julian tried to glare at him, but then remembered that neither one of them could see.

"'Tis true, child," said Garçon. I deserved not the mercy of the gods, and was certain I had instead suffered their wrath. For I was bitten by the one you call the Beast. Then I was thrown off the rooftop and impaled upon an iron spike. My departure for the deep Abyss seemed imminent. But in their mercy, the gods saw fit to spare me. I woke up in this cell, my wounds all healed, but I'm a hollow shell of the man I once was."

"I know how you feel," said Cooper. He sounded uncharacteristically sincere.

"Do you, friend?"

"Sure. I feel like I just shat my entire insides out."

Tim clapped his hands once. "Well, if feelings time is over, how about we brainstorm a way to get out of these cells?"

"It's hopeless," said Garçon. "I flexed against these bars with all of my considerable might, but to no avail. Make yourselves comfortable, friends, for all hope is lost."

Julian shook his cell door. "Quiet, Garçon! We still have a chance. We have a man on the outside, don't forget."

Garçon grunted. "And this man on the outside, he is big and strong enough to face the Beast and all of its minions alone? Enough to lay siege to this whole accursed house single-handedly?"

"Well, he's technically more of a bird than a man. But he's already in the house."

"You said he was outside."

"I meant he's outside of the dungeon."

"No, I'm not," said Ravenus. "I'm right here, sir."

"Ravenus!" said Julian. "What are you... Have you been here the whole time?"

"No, sir. I've only just arrived."

"How did you get in here?"

"I hitched a ride under the drink trolley."

Julian had pinpointed his familiar's voice as coming from atop the horse's rear, and tried to face that direction as he spoke.

"Listen, buddy. I've got kind of a dangerous mission I have to send you on. Do you think you're up for it?"

"Anything for you, sir!"

"I wouldn't ask this of you if all of our lives weren't on the line, but I need you to search the house and find a key to these cell doors."

"I thought you might say that, sir. And so I've already taken the liberty."

The bars of Tim's cell clanged, as though he'd jumped on them like a spider monkey. "Are you fucking with us, bird?" he asked in a British accent.

Ravenus started to gag and retch.

"Ravenus? Are you alright?" Julian was mildly concerned, but didn't sense any distress from his familiar.

Something splattered on the floor, like pudding dropped from a height.

"Dude, stop it. You're starting to freak me out."

Something else dropped on the floor, but this something clinked.

"You swallowed it?" asked Julian.

"Yes, sir. In case I was discovered."

"Way to go, Ravenus!" said Dave. "When did he become a bad-ass?"

"What the fuck is going on?" asked Cooper, who couldn't understand the Elven tongue. "All I saw was a bird squawk until he threw up. No one ever gets all excited when I do that."

Julian poked the puddle of bird vomit on the floor until his finger touched something metallic. He picked up the key and wiped it on his serape.

"How did you find this so fast?"

"The lady showed me where it was," said Ravenus.

"Bella?"

"No, sir, the other one."

"French Tickler? She betrayed her own people to help you?"

"I don't mean to boast, sir. But I have a very persuasive cloaca."

There was no point in waiting around in the dark anymore. Julian held the key up in front of his face. "Light."

The dungeon lit up immediately, bright light radiating from the black key.

Dave and Cooper shielded their eyes.

"Mercy of the gods!" cried Garçon, his face pressed against the bars of his cell. "You've done it!"

Julian unlocked his own cell, his friends' cells, and finally Garçon's cell.

The past month had not been kind to the old villain. Garçon's torn shirt hung loose on his withered frame. His unshaven jaw was still strong, but his dark hooded eyes were dull with defeat.

The five of them stood, along with a bird and a horse, in the corridor between the cells.

"So..." said Dave. "Now what?"

"Now we get the fuck out of here," said Tim. "Garçon, do you know where we are in relation to the front entrance? Or maybe just a first floor window? I'd like to avoid as much living furniture as possible."

Garçon scratched at his long stubble. "If I had to guess, I'd say we're below the kitchen."

"Where's the library?" asked Julian.

Cooper squinted and rubbed his chin. "I think it's two doors down from who gives a shit. Why the fuck do we need to go to the –" His eyes focused past Julian. "Dude, are you okay?"

Julian turned around. Garçon was sweating profusely. His hands were trembling.

"It's j-j-just as I f-f-f-feared," said Garçon. "I am afflicted with the same curse as that wretched beast."

"How did that happen?" asked Cooper. "Did you also tell an old lady to fuck off?"

Everyone looked at Cooper.

"What? So I saw the movie. Fuck you guys."

Garçon's skin began to sprout coarse black hairs. The two biggest toes on each bare foot, and the three smallest ones, melded together to form two large pointed toes. He wailed in agony as his knees locked straight, then began to bend backwards. The wails turned to squeals as his face elongated, sprouting tusks from the bottom of his mouth, his nostrils morphing into a pig snout.

"Cooper," shouted Tim from conspicuously farther back than he had been. "Push him back into the cell."

"Fuck that," said Cooper. "He's got shingles or some shit."

Julian backed away from Garçon. "We should get out of here."

"Let's go!" Tim and Dave were at the end of the corridor, holding the thick wooden door open. Julian led his horse toward the stairs beyond the open door. Cooper followed behind them.

At the top of the stairs there was another thick wooden door, but when this one was opened, the other side was disguised as a plain section of wall, indistinguishable from any other section of wall in the kitchen.

"Secret door," said Julian. "Cool."

"Yeah, real cool," said Tim. "Please get this horse out of here."

Julian led the horse through the secret doorway into a kitchen big enough to accommodate a medium-volume restaurant. The soup smell in here was much more potent than it had been in the dungeon, where it'd had to compete with half-orc shit and horse-piss. It was coming from a black, three-legged cast iron cooking pot, big enough to boil Tim whole, in a large hearth. Julian's stomach rumbled.

Once Cooper was inside, he slammed the door behind him and leaned all his weight against the disguised door.

"The intruders have escaped the dungeon!" announced a steel serving set. A pair of angry eyes had appeared on its domed cover, and it spoke through lips formed from cover and tray.

The cooking pot likewise revealed its true nature, taking what appeared to be a defensive position behind a wooden washtub as fast as its three short legs would carry it.

"We are not your enemies!" said Julian. "We only want to get –" A steel cleaver bit into the pantry door next to Julian's head. The handle was dripping water. Julian looked in the direction it had flown from and saw the cooking pot pulling its handles out of the washtub. One handle held a bread knife, and the other a rolling pin.

"Hit the deck!" Cried Julian.

The horse started whinnying and screaming. This was a little too much excitement so soon after it had come into existence.

Cooper slid down the wall to a sitting position on the floor. A homicidal cauldron was enough to deal with without adding a Garçon monster into the mix.

Julian, Tim, and Dave ducked behind the cupboards that stood between them and the pot hurling handleful after handleful of cutlery. Knives got stuck in the cupboards above. Spoons bounced off onto he floor. Forks did a bit of the former and a lot of the latter.

The horse's screaming stopped. Julian looked back just in time to see a dozen bloodied knives and two forks fall simultaneously to the floor from where the horse had been standing just a moment ago.

"Goddammit!" said Julian. "Is two hours really too much to ask?"

*THUNK THUNK*

The section of wall Cooper was leaning against challenged the power of the friction between his ass and the floor. He should have wiped.

*CRASH SMASH*

Dishes were exploding on the cupboards above them. Had Mr. Cooking Pot run out of knives?

"We have to make our move now," said Tim, staring down at the broken porcelain shards accumulating on the floor. "I don't have any shoes. I don't want to have to John McClane my way out of here."

There was a good twenty feet of open space between the end of the counter and the door out of the kitchen. Julian remembered how Bella had a weird habit of locking the door every time she left the living room. If the master of the house had her following some kind of weird containment protocol, there was a good chance the kitchen door would be locked.

"Guys!" shouted Cooper. "Dude seriously wants in the kitchen. I don't know how much longer I can hold him back."

Dave shrugged. "It looks like he's out of knives. He can't very well kill us with dishes, can he?"

Julian licked his lips. "Grab a fork. We might need you to pick that lock."

"One step ahead of you." Tim produced a fork from his pocket.

"All right," said Julian. He looked at Dave. "We need to cover Tim."

"With what?"

"With whatever." Julian peeked over the counter top, bracing himself to be hit in the face with a flying dish. He found the serving set and grabbed it by the handle atop its domed cover.

"Unhand me at once, you brute!" said the serving set.

Julian ducked back down and held the set out to Dave. "Take the tray."

"Once the master hears of this, you will be AAAH AH AAAAH!"

"We'll be what?" said Dave, holding the steel tray.

"I think we just ripped his jaws apart," said Julian. "He can't form consonants now."

"AH AAAAAH AAAAAAH AAAH!"

Julian looked back at Cooper. "Hold him just a little bit longer." He nodded at Dave and Tim. "Let's go."

Julian and Dave used the cover and tray of the serving set as shields while escorting Tim to the door leading out of the kitchen.

The iron pot flung dishes like Frisbees. The serving tray raised cries of vowels every time it caught one.

While Tim worked on the door, Julian and Dave crouched beside him, hiding as well as they could behind their makeshift shields. Finally the lock clicked open.

The cooking pot stopped throwing dishes. "Hey!" It threw down its dishes and ran out from behind the washtub.

"Come on, Cooper!" shouted Dave.

Cooper sprang to his feet and ran across the kitchen. Behind him, the door swung open to reveal the bipedal pig-monster Garçon had become.

The pot reached Julian and Dave just before Cooper did, and they swiped at it with their pieces of the serving set. The pot fought back with its little handle arms. As far as fights go, it was a pretty piss-poor effort from both sides.

Cooper ended the fight abruptly by grabbing the pot by the rim and pulling it backwards. It crashed onto the floor, spilling gallons and gallons of hot delicious soup all over Garçon's projected path.

"SQUEEEE!" cried Garçon as his hooves slipped out from under him. He landed with a splatter in the chunky brown liquid.

The cooking pot's arms weren't long enough to push itself back upright, but they were long enough to grab one of Garçon's legs.

"Let's go," said Tim.

While Garçon wrestled a cast iron pot, Julian, Tim, Dave, and Cooper hurried through the door and found themselves in the great foyer, where tapestries of what Julian assumed were likenesses of the prince in his pre-beast days hung on the side of a grand curved staircase.

"There's the front door!" said Dave. "Let's get the hell out of this place."

Julian looked up the staircase. "We have to get Bella."

"Fuck that," said Cooper.

"Dude," said Tim. "She's sixteen."

"No. I meant fuck the idea of going to get her."

Tim nodded. "Oh, right. I'm with you there."

"Come on, guys," said Julian. "She's a prisoner here the same as we were."

Dave shrugged. "She seems happy enough here to me."

Julian glared at him. "You're the one who brought up Stockholm Syndrome, dickhead." He glared down at Tim, then up at Cooper. "You all leave if you want. Ravenus and I aren't going to allow a little girl to grow up as some pervert-monster's sex puppet."

Ravenus poked his head out from under Julian's serape. "Well spoken, sir." He gave the others a glare as well.

Cooper frowned. "It sounds kind of shitty when you put it that way. Fine, I'm in."

Dave looked at Tim, then back at Julian. "We don't actually know that we're in the story. That was a guess. This could be a completely original..." He looked at his feet. "Okay, fine."

"Goddammit," said Tim. "Lead the way, Prince Charming."

Julian ran up the stairs as fast as he could. At the top he found a long hallway lined with doors leading who knew where. "She's probably in the library. Let's start from the right and hope we find her before we find the Beast."

"No," said Dave. He pointed at the double doors at the left end of the hallway. "It's over there."

"How do you know?" asked Julian.

Dave looked at his feet again and put his hands behind his back. "I recognize the doors."

Cooper snorted. Tim chuckled.

"Come on," said Julian. He ran toward the doors Dave had indicated and pulled gently on the handles. They swung open easily and silently.

Bella was reclined on a purple chaise lounge, reading a book, in the most enormous privately owned library Julian had ever seen. The large window on the far wall displayed a beautiful full moon rising over the countryside. Waxoff stood on a nearby end table, supplementing the moon's light while reading over her shoulder.

Julian cleared his throat. "Bella?"

Waxoff looked up and yelped, but Bella calmly finished the paragraph she was on and placed a bookmark between the pages before looking up from her book.

"You've escaped," said Bella. "Well done."

"We've come to rescue you," said Julian.

Bella clapped her hands. "How wonderful! Just like in a storybook. Who are you rescuing me from? Brigands? Pirates?"

"We're here to rescue you from the Beast," said Dave.

"The Beast?" Bella's smile faltered. "What beast?"

"Take your pick," said Tim. "We let Garçon out of his cell too before we found out he was a wereboar."

Julian looked at Tim. "Is that really a thing?"

"But if we have to get specific," Tim continued, "the Beast we were referring to is the one who –" His eyes watered as he waved his hand in front of his face. "Jesus Christ, Cooper. Was that you?"

Cooper took a step back. "Sorry. I haven't had anything to eat but fucking poison. My insides are all messed up. I think I just need one good solid fart to sort me out."

Dave coughed. "That one wasn't good enough? It smells like a dumpster behind a cheese factory."

Cooper's fart must have started wide and low, then risen with the subtle drafts of the hosue. Julian smelled it right about the same time Bella grabbed Waxoff and waved him in front of her face. Waxoff, in turn, was waving his fire hands in front of his own nose.

When Bella was finally able to speak, she said, "Did you say Garçon turned?"

"Yes," said Tim, his voice like a toad with throat cancer.

"Interesting. I was keeping him alive to see if that would happen." She looked at Julian. "You say he escaped as well, but he's not with you. Did you..."

"No," said Julian. "He's downstairs in the kitchen, fighting a cast iron pot."

"Big Blackie?"

"Whoa!" said Dave. "Was that what he was called before he turned into a pot?"

"Hang on." Julian stared hard at the pretty, large-bosomed girl in the yellow dress. "Are you saying you're the master of this house?"

Bella batted her eyelashes at Julian. "Why of course! Who were you expecting?"

"I don't understand," said Dave. "Who did Garçon fight a month ago?"

"That was the old master. He was no good at all." Bella placed Waxoff back on the table. "He imprisoned my father and passed his curse on to me."

Cooper scratched his left armpit. "You changed? Were you, like, a dude before?"

"And then had the gall to try to make me love him. He's no different than Garçon, or any of the rest of you." Her tone suggested that she was no longer in a playful mood.

Tim glanced back at the double doors. "So, the old master. Did you..."

Bella smiled at Tim. "Garçon did most of the work. I just finished him off."

"I don't remember that happening in the movie, Dave. Maybe it was in the sequel?"

Dave swallowed hard. "I don't know. That went direct to video."

"I can see why," said Cooper. "That shit got dark."

Dave and Tim looked to Julian expectantly. Cooper continued to scratch his armpit.

"Okay," said Julian, not really sure how to follow it. "You've clearly got some man issues." That already sounded wrong. "It's understandable, given how much you've been through. But we're not interested in your..." Nope. That won't work either. "Think back to when you met us in the tavern. You thought we were decent guys, right? Why else would you have invited us here?"

Bella shrugged. "A girl's got to eat." Coarse black hairs sprouted out of the top of her breasts as her dress began to tear at the seams.

By the time Julian looked up, her face had completely transformed into that of a wild boar. The fact that it took that much motivation for him to look away from her breasts made Julian concede that she might have had a point about men.

"Run!" screamed Dave, waddling back toward the double doors.

The four of them made it out into the hallway before Bella's transformation was complete, but Garçon was limping up the staircase, bloody drool dripping from his massive tusks.

"Shit!" said Tim. "Cooper, keep those doors closed. They're just wereboars. We might be able to take them one at a time."

"Take them with what?" cried Dave. "We didn't bring any weapons!"

Julian pulled back the part of his serape that Ravenus was tucked under. "You can't help us. Fly somewhere safe."

"Very good, sir." Ravenus pushed off of Julian's chest and dove over the railing.

Julian genuinely wanted his familiar to be safe, but he was surprised at just how little coaxing it took for Ravenus to ditch him like that.

When he looked back, Tim had emptied the contents of his pockets out onto the floor, and was spreading out a bunch of silverware he had apparently stolen from the kitchen.

"Arm yourselves," said Tim, holding on to two dinner knives.

Dave picked up a knife. "Fucking dinnerware? This isn't even pointy. What are we supposed to do? Smother him with a layer of mayonnaise?"

Julian grabbed a fork and a knife, but gave Tim a disapproving glare.

"What?"

"We weren't in enough trouble as it was? You had to go and steal their cutlery too?"

"Everyone knows you can only hurt a lycanthrope with silver weapons. I was thinking ahead, taking a precautionary measure."

Julian scoffed. "So how do you explain the spoons?"

"Fuck you. How's that for an explanation?" Tim had a point. There would be time for arguing later.

Julian stood up and brandished a knife and fork as if he were threatening an aggressive pork chop instead of the snarling monstrosity that was grunting and snorting as it hooved its way up the stairs. "Garçon! Don't do this, man. Stay back!"

"It's no use," said Dave, his sweaty hands also wielding a knife and fork. "This is his first time turning. He probably doesn't even know who he is. He's confused, angry, and hungry."

Tim held up the two knives he'd kept for himself and stood next to Julian. "Cooper, grab something to fight with. Our only hope is to take out Garçon before Bella gets out here. Everyone get ready to rush him on three."

Ravenus let out a battle caw that filled the cavernous foyer and hallway. He soared over the railing just as Garçon was getting to the top of the stairs, and he wasn't alone. French Tickler, his feather duster lover, was clutched in his talons.

"Ravenus, no!" cried Julian as Ravenus flew directly at Garçon.

From the last stair, Garçon made a wild swipe, which Ravenus narrowly avoided, and French Tickler sprayed a cloud of dust from her feathers into his face.

Garçon squealed and screamed, blindly flailing his arms, as he lost his balance and tumbled backwards down the staircase.

"Goddamn," said Cooper. "Bitch needs some Vagisil, or fucking Pine-Sol, or –"

The library doors swung open, flattening Cooper against the wall. A fully transformed Bella stood in the doorway, flaring her piggy nostrils. Her red-eyed gaze fell to Julian's knife and fork, and she snorted.

Julian knew a crotchful of dust wasn't going to save them this time.

A sound somewhere between a groan and a squeal rose from the bottom of the staircase. Bella looked over the railing and snarled down at Garçon. Before anyone had the chance to make a paltry attempt at stabbing her, she shoved Dave and Julian out of her way and bounded down the staircase, taking the stairs four at a time.

"Even better," said Tim. "Let those two duke it out, and we'll have an easier time with the winner. Back in the library."

Julian didn't know why Tim wanted to go back into the library. It seemed like they should keep an eye on the fight so that they'd know what they were up against when the victor came after them. If he was being honest, he was still concerned about Bella as well. He didn't want her to be ripped apart by Garçon, but he also didn't like the idea of having to stab a sixteen-year-old girl to death. He followed everyone into the library, unsure of whom he was rooting for in the wereboar battle below.

When Tim pulled the doors closed behind them, Dave spoke up.

"Why are we in the library? You wouldn't rather watch the fight?"

Tim shook his head. "We need every advantage we can get. I can get my Sneak-Attack bonus in if we're flanking whichever one of those assholes walks through the door. So I'm thinking I'll stand on this side, and Cooper can stand on the other side. Julian can stand over by the sofa and fire a Magic Missile. As soon one of them steps through the door, we give it everything we've got."

"Where should I stand?" asked Dave.

"A few steps back from the door. You can be bait."

"Why do I have to be bait? Julian can summon a horse to be bait."

"Dude! We're fighting with fucking forks and shit. We need Julian's Magic Missiles."

Tim crouched next to the left side of the doorway, gripping his two knives and ready to pounce.

Cooper stood on the other side, using a fork to scratch his ass.

Julian swapped his knife for Dave's fork since he would be fighting from a distance... in the beginning anyway.

Dave muttered some half-sarcastic gratitude, and Julian considered whether he wanted to sit on the sofa or stand behind it. He ultimately decided that it wasn't going to offer him that much protection from one of those beasts outside, and his feet could really use a rest. He could cast a Magic Missile sitting down as easily as he could standing up, after all.

"Oh my god," said Cooper. "Here it comes."

Tim cautiously leaned toward the door. "I don't hear anything."

Cooper grinned. "No, I was talking about –"

"Cooper!" cried Dave. "Behind you!"

Julian looked at Cooper's rear and found Waxoff sneaking out from behind a purple ottoman, one of his flame hands pointed at Cooper's ass. Waxoff took a deep breath and prepared to pull his flame-thrower move when Cooper let rip the most epic shit-speckled fart Julian had ever witnessed.

The initial spray turned Waxoff brown just nanoseconds before the flame ignited, shooting out a plume of fire, like the breath of a dragon, out of Cooper's asshole.

It lasted at least ten seconds, maybe fifteen. Waxoff melted into a puddle of shit-tainted wax down the sides of a very much un-animated brass candle holder. The bookcase behind him had caught on fire, the dry pages of the old tomes crackling and passing the flames outward and upward.

When it was done, Cooper stood up straight. "I feel so much better now."

Julian, Tim, and Dave just stared in silent awe.

"The fuck's wrong with you guys?" said Cooper, evidently not yet aware that he'd set the library on fire. "Why don't you grow the fuck –"

Garçon flew through the double doors, smashing one in half and knocking the other off its hinges, and straight into Dave. From the state of him, struggling to get back up on his hooves, Julian guessed that he had not entered the library of his own volition.

Dave hurriedly rolled away from the exhausted-but-no-less-terrifyng monster and stood back up.

Bella stomped into the library, her bloodthirsty gaze fixed on Garçon The bloodied yellow scraps hanging from her body were now unrecognizable as having once been a dress.

In all the excitement, nobody remembered to attack either of the wereboar. Julian didn't even know which one he was supposed to prioritize. Garçon looked like he might actually be only a couple of Magic Missiles away from dropping dead, but Bella was clearly the more dangerous of the two... at least until she turned back into a naked woman. No, girl.

"My books!" cried Bella. She ran to the bookshelves, her illegally stunning breasts bouncing with each step.

Julian shielded his eyes and made a run for the exit. "I'm not looking! I'm not looking! I'm not –" He ran into Garçon, sending them both to the floor. "Excuse me." He got back up and started running again, more concerned about not looking at Bella than by not being ripped apart by a wearboar.

When he made it to the double doors, he found that Tim and Dave were also shielding their eyes. Only Cooper was unabashedly gawking at her.

"No fucking way she's sixteen."

"Cooper!" said Julian. "Stop staring!"

"It's cool. She turned back into a pig."

Julian looked. Bella had indeed changed back into a wereboar to deal with another attack from Garçon. She kept him at bay with one kicking hoof while simultaneously throwing as many books as she could save away from the spreading fire.

"Let's go!" whispered Tim.

The four of them crept quietly through the doorway. Even Cooper and Dave's heavy footsteps were drowned out by the roar of the fire. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Ravenus and French Tickler were waiting by the front door.

"Well well, sir," said Ravenus. "I've got a tingly feeling in the cloaca. What have you been getting up to?"

"Nothing!" said Julian. "You're just aroused by your ladyfriend here."

"It's not me, sir. I'm all spent. Need some time to replenish the troops, if you catch my meaning."

Dave grimaced. "Looks like someone's got the hots for a sixteen-year-old pig-woman." It was easy to judge, being the only one wearing boner-concealing armor.

"Ha!" said French Tickler. "Have no fear, Monsieur Elf. Mademoiselle Bella is twenty-three."

Cooper pumped his fist. "I called that shit."

"How do you know how old she is?" Dave challenged the feather duster.

"I was ze one who told her to lie about her age. I thought it might keep her safe from... How you say... ze predator?"

"Shit!" said Cooper. "Is he here, too? How many movies did Mordred rip off at once?"

Julian looked at Ravenus and French Tickler. They did make a cute, if unconventional, couple. He hated to break two lovers apart. And really, how much of a burden could a feather duster be?

"Why don't you come with us?"

Ravenus looked at him with wide eyes. Julian's heart skipped a beat.

French Tickler smiled. "I cannot, monsieur. My place is here, next to my husband, Waxoff."

Julian and Tim exchanged troubled glances.

"We have a complicated relationship, but he is ze love of my life." French Tickler raised a feather to the side of Ravenus's beak. "But you will always have a place here." She placed the tip of the feather on the base of her handle."

"Awesome," said Tim. "Good luck with that. We really need to be going now."


When they had ridden Julian's magical horses far enough away from the house, they slowed down to a trot.

"Are you okay?" Julian asked Ravenus, who was perched on his shoulder.

"Of course I am, sir. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I meant about your lady friend. All that stuff she said back there."

"She couldn't speak Elven, sir. I have no idea what she was on about."

"Oh. It's just that I sensed you getting a little panicky back there when we were parting ways."

"Of course I was, sir. Excuse me for saying so, but I thought you'd gone mad when you invited her to tag along."

"I just thought –"

"That would have thrown off our whole dynamic, wouldn't it?"

Julian shrugged. "I don't know if it would have been that –"

"And can you imagine me being seen in public with her? Me, a raven, and her, a... I don't even know what she is!"

"Alright, already. I got it. I'll run it by you first next time."

Ravenus ruffled his feathers. "I'm in the prime of my life, sir. Far too young to be getting tied down."