As the fighter, much like his operating system, shirked his responsibilities to go watch furry porn, our party was left behind with a very disgruntled William who tried, for the fourteenth time already, to explain why he called his company the way he did and why it had nothing do with his penis. His elegant collar and tie ensemble waving in the wind much like a freshly pressed suit doesn't and shouldn't. Because that would be silly and counter to the point of hand-pressing your laundry in the first place. Such endeavours are best kept for clothes that emphasize tight-forms on women and need some hackneyed attempt at including lust in a visual description. Which is a horrible thing to do to an elderly man. But now back to our soft micropenis.

“POINT, every single explanation I've given you always comes back to my penis and I have no idea why. You are a very disturbed young mac user. Not to mention your fiendish narrator.”

“You keep using the word mac, is that like a musical nickname or something? Because this world doesn't have rap. Only rape.”

“POINT, close enough. But we'd best switch back to the narrator in case someone says we're just talking heads.”

Euhm... right. A tall glass was put in front of the narrator filled with brown liquid that tasted like regret and memory problems. It went down smooth and another one mysteriously appeared from below the desk. The narrator knew he had to turn back to the storyline, In fact the characters in the series were giving him sideways glances and in one case, a double middle-finger. But something within him told him not to. That something was self-respect and a lack thereof towards others. Cold and calculating, the narrator refused the narrator's narrator's character assessment based on an inaccurate understanding of the Myers & Briggs personality test. Where every sixteen year old with depression suddenly turns out to be an INTJ. And however much the narrator's narrator would disagree, our narrator would simply ignore his inner narrator as this story already had too many meta levels. Adding any more would simply make things confusing and iterative to the point that the navel-gazing gazes back at itself via the abyss.

On a sidenote, the inhabitants of the abyss asked us to stop doing so as they don't want to partially live in someone's navel. First, because that's not what it's meant for and second... ew. Imagine your own neighbourhood suddenly being covered in fermented blood, dust and skin particles. It became nearly impossible to keep their pets clean, and alive. No matter if that pet is the 18th highest ranked archdemon of the seventh layer of hell.

Back back to the copious consumption of alcoho.. I mean, the party, who are waiting with bated breath.

“Oh I feel baited alright. As long as it doesn't evolve into a mastery of it.”

Everybody golfclapped the lame joke and the hero felt shame like he never had before. Even more so than that one time in band camp that he stuck a flute...

“Ex-nay on the flute-nay. Fuck sake. What the hell are you doing?”

Heavy drinking to offset reality. Same reason why William the spunkerer over yonder was dragged all the way here, but on a more personal basis, namely for the narrator's own needs.

“POINT, that's hardly my name or handle, now is it.”

“We don't want to see your handle, please keep it inside your pants.”

“POINT, another delightful dick joke from the mac user who handles a vibrator with just way too much experience. How clever. You must really like dick. And bad jokes.”

The hero shoved away a handful of papers with dick jokes he'd prepared in advance and shook his head.

“Nuh-Uh.”

“POINT, Yah-huh.”

“NUH... UH!”

“POINT, come here, you little mac airbitch.”

The adult man, aged fifty or more, started slapping our young intrepid hero as if he were dealing with his usualy Tuesday night's paid female appointment. Feebly and pausing frequently, the old man fell over and gripped his heart.

“PO-Ointt. I don't feel so good.”

“Sounds like a job for the safety dragon. Make way everybody!”

The kind dragon applied heart-massage while crushing William's entire body into the ground. With every thump of it's oversized limbs, the man was pushed deeper, creating a funny cartoon-like outline of the micro-soft(well, extra-soft at this point) man. But nobody laughed as this was a very serious issue. Correction, nobody except the hero laughed as this was a very serious issue. Still with raised double fingers as was expected from our crass hero-can't.

“Thought for a second that you were going to use an entirely different word at the end there. But come on, this is fucking funny. The entire idea of an OSHA violation trying to save someone's life is hilarious. Why doesn't he try giving the Heinrich manoeuvre instead if he wants to finish the job?”

Does the hero mean the Heimlich manoeuvre? Because the Heinrich manoeuvre is becoming the king of Germany and naming all your children Heinrich. Even the girls. Actually, especially the girls.

“Well, that takes self-love to an entire new level. How pure did the family need to keep their blood if you know what I mean?”

The narrator wouldn't dare suggest such a thing to have ever occurred, but perhaps casually, and for no reason at all, referencing game of thrones and the Targaryens might be enough of a subtle hint for an unsubtle world... and hero.

“Alright, they boned as if the cows came home and then they went full beast-mode. But in a very wrong way that kids should never try at home if they don't want to lose their soul. In fact they shouldn't even think about it.”

No doubt the hero is imagining it any way.

“... yes.”

The hero brought this on himself, to be honest. Another bottle of empty brown was emptied on the spot from a mug the size of a small cow. Just to remain thematic.

The hero should learn to have more, just a second, this narrator needs another bottle.

Now, as the narrator said while lighting two cigars at the same time, the hero needs more self-control.

And don't mind the two cigars behind the curtain. This narrator just wants to smoke while he smokes. So he can forget your insane actions while simultaneously forgetting everything else about you as well.