Once upon a time in the land of Mainland there was a large kingdom surrounded with gleaming white walls, picturesque homes, and robust fields. Its inhabitants were blessed with plentiful beef and corn and ores and oil and could not wish for anything more. They revered their rightful princess of the Kingdom of Mithril, Annacaza. She was fair and had a great temper, yet everyone agreed that she was an excellent contrast to the constipating bureaucracy supporting her rule.

But then, shit happened. As a downside of the Mithril residents' low taxes, not enough of the budget was allocated towards water treatment. Despite the warnings from the Department of Health, the previous budget plan made it through the legislature unadulterated. At first, all seemed fine. Until the rapture began. Unexpectedly, cholera was a hell of a disease, a fact not realized by Mainlandia's politicians until all twenty toilets - and urinals - bubbled with thriving bacterial civilizations. Forever written in the history books as The Mainlandia Shitfest of 2010, the event was known as the most horrendous cataclysm to have ever affected the Mainland people. Until Princess Annacaza was kidnapped. Then it became number two.

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"Mel," an iron clad soldier littered with scars poked his head into the break room, "We officially suck ass at our jobs."

"Holy Davidii, what happened now, Gene?" sighed another soldier, placing down his coffee mug on the table, "Did you forget to fireproof the kitchen again?"

"Nah, Dad, I'm not that dumb. But Princess Annacaza's been kidnapped."

Faster than an untreated wooden base, the news of the princess in peril spread far and wide. Within a few hours, everyone in the kingdom knew that she was taken, perhaps unwillingly, and that there would be a hefty reward for returning her to safety. Many brave warriors seeking gold and a new wife streamed out of Mainlandia, determined to bring back the damsel in distress.

Scarfacial could honestly give less of a shit about the princess' plight. She deserved it, especially after treating him so poorly after that meeting. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite ignore Annacaza, due to the kid at his side clawing and whining at him, interrupting his morning sip of Soylent Red.

"Come on, Scarface!" NoBanana, after much effort, grasped the flask out of the man's hand and tossed it on the ground, "Let's rescue the princess. It'll be fun!"

Scarfacial growled. His Soylent was like a kiddie scripter's speed hacks. When he didn't have it, he would be very, very angry. Especially when a certain brat in drab rags took it.

"Let's not, kid. By the time - if - we rescue her, we'd find out that another white knight had already sailed as fast as the four rivers of shit from the start of civilization and took her to another castle. Not worth the effort, so just quit taking my drinks. Or else I'll leave you well done on the lynx pyre."

"No," Nobanana stared into Scarfacial's eyes. The boy's irises seemed to turn red and strangely relaxing, with a myriad of swirling designs and mesmerizing motions. "You will obey me. We will rescue the princess, and I will accompany you."

"What the Hell? You should star in Mithril City's horror plays, given how well you creep out adults," said Scarfacial, "Fuck it, I'll take you. Just don't make a fuss and don't steal my 'Red."

"Ah," sighed NoBanana, "Why can't my eye power actually get people to not know that they've been controlled? Was TV wrong all along?"

"TV?" Scar asked, hauling his burlap sack to his shoulder, "Nevermind. Come on, we're heading to the nearest port."

And so the two walked north, north towards the bustling, breathing, masses of sailors, merchants, and travelers, ready for the adventure that would come. Hands laced behind his head, Nobanana laughed to himself. Screw magic, he was special already.