When I was thrown out of Mr. Slave's esophagus, I was greeted hesitantly (it should be obvious why). I didn't react, simply discarding the barrier I had cloaked my body in, taking the smell and filth with it. Butters wrapped his arms around me the moment the barrier disappeared, not even caring who saw, while Stan patted my back. Everyone else seemed mildly surprised at the barrier's existence, but they were apparently getting used to the kinds of items and abilities that I had a habit of picking up. They had seen me shrink, after all.
After untying Mr. Slave, we headed onto a platform, where Cartman stopped us.
"Alright, guys." he said, raising his staff, "Just past that doorway is the throne room of the Dark Lord. Let's go kick that traitor's ass!" Everyone else cheered and, with me leading the group, we entered the heart of Clyde's lair.
"Fools! You thought you could conquer the Fortress of Darkness!?" was how Clyde greeted us. He was standing next to the container that held the green goo, his hand on the faucet coming out of it. There was a tube connected to the faucet, which led into…a coffin?! Oh, this CAN'T be good.
"Clyde, back away from that stuff!" Stan commanded, concerned almost as much for Clyde's sake as he was for his own.
"Oh, but I have yet to complete my army!" Clyde replied, mistaking the concern in Stan's voice for fear, "You have come to witness the power of darkness!"
"Stop, Clyde! You have no idea what that stuff is!" Kyle yelled, panic entering his voice.
"Yeah huh, it's green sauce from Taco Bell. I took it from their construction site." Clyde stated matter-of-factly. I had to resist facepalming. Really? Does the "toxic waste" label on the barrel mean NOTHING to you?!
"Dude, that's NOT Taco Bell sauce." Stan replied, as if he were talking to a five-year-old.
"Then why'd I find it at the Taco Bell?" Clyde asked, unconvinced. Is this guy an IDIOT?
Cartman growled in frustration, rolling his eyes. "It leaked out of a UFO, CLYDE! It's toxic goo from another galaxy! Think about it, since when does Taco Bell have GREEN SAUCE, dude?!" he yelled/ranted.
"Actually, since about a year ago." Kyle replied, never missing a chance to show up Cartman.
"What?" Cartman asked, leading to the group talking about green sauce at Taco Bell.
"Are ALL these people IDIOTS?!" I thought exasperatedly, turning to look at Clyde, who had started laughing.
"HA HA! I don't seem so foolish now, DO I?!" he yelled, laughing triumphantly.
"That doesn't mean YOU have Taco Bell green sauce, dipfuck!" Kyle yelled, getting tired of this drawn-out dialogue. So was I, actually.
"Yeah, Clyde." Stan said, backing up his boyfriend, "Why do you think that shit's GLOWING?"
Clyde looked at the barrel, pondering the question for a moment, "Maybe because of the three varieties of chili peppers." he said in response. REALLY?
The group exchanged looks. "Just give us the Stick, asshole." Cartman sighed impatiently.
"Or what? You'll beat me up? Ha ha…I've got another surprise for you!" Clyde responded, turning on the faucet and sending the goo into the coffin. The coffin started shaking. Then, the coffin burst open, revealing a man wearing a torn chef's hat.
"I'm gonna make love to ya, womaann…" the man sang, his accent that of a black man. Of course, he was zombified, making his skin green.
Everyone in the group screamed. "Ahh! Nazi Zombie Chef!" Cartman cried, looking unusually upset. I was confused. We had faced Nazi Zombie soldiers and government agents before, so why would a chef scare them so badly? My confusion deepened when I saw tears entering my comrades' eyes.
"Chef…" Kyle muttered, falling to his knees. Stan kneeled beside him, embracing him so that the King's head rested against his shoulder.
"How could you, Clyde?! Why'd you have to bring Chef into this?!" the warrior yelled, tears streaming down his face. Jimmy was trying to comfort Kenny, but he was also fighting off tears. I looked to Butters, who usually explained things like this, only to see him sobbing uncontrollably as well. He took one look at me and practically jumped into my arms, burying his face against my chest, his tears soaking my torn jacket.
"Ch-Ch-Chef w-w-was our f-f-f-friend." he sobbed, stuttering madly as his body trembled.
I see. My arms tightened around my precious partner, trying to offer what comfort I could.
"Well?" We all turned to Clyde, who was now sitting on his throne, his arms crossed triumphantly, "If you want the Stick back, you'll have to go through Nazi Zombie Chef!" He then laughed maniacally as Chef climbed out of the coffin, yelling in German and performing the Nazi salute. I looked at my friends, all of whom were still crying (even Cartman, whom I had been convinced was heartless), my gaze lingering on my boyfriend, who was still shivering in my arms. My gaze then turned to Clyde, my eyes glowing with hatred and rage. It may be normal for a villain to use dirty tricks like this, but that doesn't make it excusable.
I glanced at Chef, who was slowly making his way to us (zombies aren't exactly known for their speed) and gently pried the distressed paladin off of me (as much as I wanted to continue comforting him). He looked at me tearfully, confused. I gave him a small smile, squeezing his shoulders reassuringly. I knew that he and the others didn't want to hurt their deceased friend, despite the fact that his spirit was no longer within the body. I drew my sword, standing before the Nazi Zombie Chef.
"What are you doing, Commander Douchebag?" Kyle asked me as everyone heard me draw my weapon. I ignored him, taking my battle stance. The zombie charged at me, shouting in German and throwing what looked (and smelled) like chocolate balls that had gone bad long ago. I deflected them with ease, charging as well.
"Commander, don't!" I heard Stan call out, followed by protests from the others. I ignored them as well, knowing what had to be done.
As I got near the zombie, I raised my sword, preparing to strike. Then, as the zombie tried to counter my blow, I vanished from sight, moving faster than the eye could see. The zombified chef stopped and looked around in confusion, as did everyone else. All was quiet until a girly scream pierced the stormy night, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a razor. Everyone's eyes turned to the Dark Lord's throne, where I had reappeared, slicing the wooden chair clean in half as my opponent narrowly dodged. A clang echoed through the open chamber as one of the spikes fell from his crown. The terror in his eyes filled me with sadistic pleasure.
"Chef!" he screamed, backing against the base of his shattered throne, "Protect your new master!"
The zombie obeyed, charging at me again. I sighed. I knew that thing wasn't the Chef the others had known, for his spirit had already moved on, but they still wouldn't forgive me if I cut him down. I guess I have no choice.
Reaching out with my mind, I mentally called to the nearest angel that wasn't involved in battle, telling him to summon a spirit to assist me in this fight. I got a hasty affirmative response before I had to dodge the zombie's attack, breaking contact.
This little dance went on for several minutes, with the zombie charging and throwing chocolate balls and me dodging and deflecting. A few times he managed to grab me and tried to bite my neck, and in those cases I had to punch him to protect myself. My group looked on indecisively. Butters had tried to help me, but he was restrained by Cartman and Kenny. Stan seemed to want to help me as well, but he and Kyle had apparently been very close to Chef, and the young reincarnated prophet refused to abandon his distressed lover (to be). For now, I was on my own. Then, as I landed after avoiding the zombie's clutching hands, he suddenly stopped, his eyes widening, as if in recognition. He looked at me before turning to the others, smiling.
"Children! I'm back!" he yelled happily. The boys' faces lit up.
"Chef!" they all cried, overjoyed, running to hug the freed zombie. I smiled to myself. He did it.
"Enough of this!" Clyde bellowed, enraged at his minion's desertion. He took out a bottle of combustible liquid (I couldn't tell what kind) and lit the cloth in it, throwing it at my friends. My eyes widened as they screamed in terror. Has Clyde finally gone off the deep end?!
Before I could move, however, Chef jumped in front of the group, shielding them from the grenade and, consequently, bursting into flames. He cried in pain, losing his senses as he ran around madly.
"Chef!" the boys cried, partially out of grief for their friend's pain and partially out of fear as he began running toward them.
"YES! BURN THEM! BURN THEM ALL!" Clyde yelled, laughing like he was completely deranged.
"Like hell I'd let that happen!" I yelled in my mind, placing myself between my friends and the flaming zombie.
"Sage!" Butters screamed, although his voice was drowned out by a thunder clap. I closed my eyes. I'm sorry.
"Commander, run!" Stan cried. Everyone else was speechless (except Cartman, who didn't give a rat's ass about my safety).
As always, I ignored them, gathering a familiar strength within my intestines. Then, once Chef got too close, I unleashed a powerful Dragonshout, blowing him back and scorching his body almost completely.
Everyone gawked at me. Clyde's face lost almost all its color. Cartman was the first to recover.
"Good work, Douchebag!" he said, patting my back. Butters glomped me, almost knocking me over.
"What were you thinking, Sage?!" he cried into my cloak, muffling his voice as tears of fear and relief drenched it, "You could've been KILLED!" I didn't reply, simply holding him close to remind him that I had not been killed and that I wasn't going anywhere.
"I got a hand it to ya, Douchebag, either you're really brave or really insane." Kyle said, which I guess was his way of thanking me. Stan confirmed this by facepalming. Luckily, he was standing behind his boyfriend and, therefore, could not be seen.
"That was amazing!" Kenny's muffled voice praised me as he playfully batted his eyelashes at me. I blinked at him, still holding Butters against my chest. I remembered how jealous he could be.
"Yeah! Way to k-kick some ass!" Jimmy said to me, keeping his distance. It would seem that he still remembered our battle. I nodded to him, letting him know that I accepted his praise, which seemed to reassure him.
"Your eons of torment are at an end, Ruler of Darkness!" Cartman growled at Clyde as he faced the defeated Lord, everyone else gathering around him. Clyde looked around nervously, backing away.
"Um…okay, um, you know what, I'm not playing anymore." he stuttered, trying desperately to get out of this situation unharmed. Cartman, who wasn't hearing any of it, was about to retort, but another familiar voice interrupted him.
"Oh no. You're not getting off that easy!" a fiery voice laughed, clearly enjoying the desperation in the so-called Dark Lord's tone. I smirked. Right on cue.
Everyone in the chamber looked up to see the Antichrist himself sitting on the roof above the chamber, with his innocent-looking mate at his side.
"Damien?!" Stan, the first to recover his voice, cried, "…and Pip?"
"Hello there, old chaps." Pip said cheerfully, waving at the group of kids. Damien narrowed his eyes at them briefly, remembering the years of bullying his mate had suffered at the group's hands, before turning back to the real reason he was here.
"Clyde Donovan." he addressed the fallen Lord, who was now little more than a scared child, "You have attempted to steal my father's title, and while your antics may have provided me with decent entertainment for the past few days, that does not change what you have done. You have insulted my father, and for that, you must pay!"
His eyes then began to glow their signature fiery yellow. In response, the ground at the base of the castle split open, and the fires of Hell burst forth, covering the entire battlefield in a violent glow. What warriors were still on the battlefield quickly vacated the yard, leaving only the group in the Dark Lord's chamber and the human warriors Token, Tweek, and Craig, who were taking shelter in Clyde's house.
"No, please!" Clyde pleaded with the demon, desperation morphing into full-scale panic, "I wasn't REALLY trying to rule the world! I was just playing!" He turned to his friends for help, but only got unsympathetic stares in reply.
"I'm sorry, Clyde." Pip said, looking at him with feigned compassion as he approached the brunette, his mate looking on, "You know how I hate violence. So let's just do this the easy way, shall we?"
And with that, he kicked the fallen Lord off of his platform at the top of his castle, sending him into the gaping hole in the ground below. And so it was that Clyde Donovan was condemned to suffer in Hell for…a week.
While all of this was going on, I was kneeling beside Chef's body, which his spirit still inhabited.
"Hello there, Dragonborn." he said, his weak voice heard only by me, "I received an urgent message from the Lord of Paranoia telling me about this incident. I didn't think Clyde was capable of doing this."
"I apologize, Chef." I said, also speaking quietly, "Your friends would not forgive me for harming your body, even though you no longer inhabited it."
"It's alright, Dragonborn. I am glad I got to see the children again. I have missed them." Chef replied, smiling (as much as he could).
"They've missed you too, in case that wasn't obvious." I told him, placing my middle and index finger on the man's forehead, "I am sorry I can't let you stay longer, but I've already broken several Angelic Laws just by bringing you here."
"That's alright, children. I'm ready to go back. These burns hurt like hell." he replied, gasping in pain. As he began to fade, leaving the mortal realm, he turned to me and spoke in the kind, understanding tone that he was known for in life, "And remember, Dragonborn, that they're your friends, too. Take care of them." I nodded, sending Chef back to the afterlife.
I stood up, turning to see Damien approaching me.
"My job here is done." he said, glancing over at his mate, who was chatting with the group of warriors that had accompanied me (mostly with Butters), "I shall be returning to Hell soon."
"Knowing you, "soon" likely means that you will be staying a while." I replied, catching the implications in the Antichrist's voice, "This battle's not over yet, is it?"
Damien grinned, his sadistic pleasure clear for even the most oblivious human to see. "You'll find out very soon." He then signaled to his mate, Pip Pirrup, to follow him as he jumped back onto the roof of Clyde's house. The blond kid made to follow, but stopped by me first.
"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dragonborn." he said, bowing to me before jumping onto the roof to join his mate. I nodded in return, turning back to my group, who, miraculously, hadn't heard any of my previous exchanges. Well, Stan did, but he already knew what was going on, so that didn't matter. I will probably get a lecture from him about summoning the Antichrist and not telling him, but that can wait.
"We did it, dude!" Stan said happily, smiling at me. Beside the warrior, Kyle nodded in agreement.
"That was AWESOME! You did it!" Cartman congratulated me, cheerfully adding, "Your noble quest is at an end. And for all your deeds, and all the time you put into this-" He seemed really impressed by this. "I hereby promote you to…" Let me guess. "KING Douchebag! Congratulations." Knew it.
"Oh great. Now I have to compete with him." Kyle said, pouting. I could tell he was just kidding, so I didn't take it to heart. Everyone started laughing, although Stan had to stifle his to avoid his boyfriend's wrath (he still got glared at). Butters grabbed my hand, smiling proudly at me. Cartman was about to make a rude comment on that, but stopped when I looked in his general direction. It would seem that he, too, remembers the ass-kicking I gave him.
"Quickly!" Kyle said, still smiling, "Now let's get the Stick back to safety before anyone can-" He was cut off by the unmistakable sound of helicopter blades. I looked up, eyes widening in rarely-seen terror.
You!