Disclaimer - Jay Wise, who shall hereto forth be known as Party of the First, does not hold any ownership qualities over Blizzard Entertainment's Warcraft III, which shall hereto forth be known as Party of the Second. Any of the Party of the Thirds, who shall heretofore shall be known as Morons, who think that a 15 year old druggie could possibly own something so epic and fantastic, is as forth while mentioned, a moron. Thank you.
Warning! Before reading this fan-fiction I urge you to grab a Mountain Dew Code Red! Why? BECAUSE THEY'RE EFFIN TASTY!
If, while reading this fanfiction, your eye begins to twitch, BEFORE READING ANY FURTHER IN THE STORY, read a little bit more. ^_^
If you have a fanatical reason to tie string to little wedges of cheese with razor blades attached to them and spin around killing people, I urge you to first, finish the story and find out what happens to CHESSE WIZZERS!
If, at any time while reading this fic, you find something humorous, post a review telling the author and others how great it is, that way there will be 5,000,000 reviews of this story when I wake up, which will please me greatly. Ph33r!
If at any time during this fic, you feel the urge to refer to the author as something other then l33t Master Jay, immediately throw yourself into the Void of the Pit Dragons, you have been warned.
Thank you and Enjoy!
Misadventures in Warcraft III - An Epic Fanfiction of Pants, Cheese, Hentai, and Overall Insanity

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Jay accounted many of the problems in his life to drugs, and for good reason. Since the tender age of 15, he had been a druggie. How this is not necessarily a bad thing, except when your in the kind of situation Jay is in at this very moment...that being stuck on a foreign world with 6 losers, a suicidal robot, and no cigs. Yes...I know you feel his pain.

But this story is not just of drug use and Jayism...it is one of destiny, elements, spirit, courage, love, hate, friendship, epic battles, and hentai...plus other important, type, stuff...right. The hard question is where to begin telling this tale...well I guess as it is with all things, let's start at the end, flashback to the beginning, have periodic jumps into the middle, and finally hit the end again just in time to wonder what happened to the plot. Yes, that is how a typical story would go, but this story is hardly a normal one. So sit back, relax and listen...erm...I mean read this tale. Sorry, we're too cheap to put it out on audio cassette, however if you'd like to make a donation, kindly send any and all money you have to me. Be forewarned, it shall be used to buy pot and menthol cigarettes...
Misadventures in Warcraft III Chapter One – Welcoming Committee
Part One – The Crew Arrives
Jay sighed as he leaned back in his seat, pulling a well worn bong to his lisp and flicking his lighter on, power hitting it. He shook his head and struggled to hold the smoke in, as he handed the bong to Grooben, who was camped out in his spare seat. Jay exhaled, and began to laugh softly.

"Grooben...when did you start wearing pants?"

"Since...pants were invented I guess." Grooben replied dumbly.

Both of them laughed, then stopped suddenly as bright lights started flickering on and off all around them.

"Dammmmn...this is some good shIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTT!" Jay screamed as his wall was replaced with an angry worm-hole, that promptly began to suck them in. Jay struggled to hold onto his chair, but his chair was ripped from the ground and he flew back, before grabbing onto Grooben's face. At this point, it should be noted Grooben's reacting to someone glomping his face is akin to the action of a rabid raccoon when it awakens inside a very small cage, next to a mouse.

Grooben shrieked and began to squirm furiously, batting at Jay trying to force him off. "THE BATS ARE ATTACKING ME!" Grooben screamed over and over again. Jay finally let go under the assault, and both he and Grooben were swept into the vortex.
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Roughtly 20 miles away, at that exact moment, a very serious looking Casey violently attacked his Gamecube controller. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his muscles strained as he agonizingly navigated his human to Nook 'n Go one last time, selling the last of his White Scallop's and trudging back to his house to save at his Gyroid before dropping nearly out cold. He buried his face in his pillow and exhaled deeply. Animal Crossing was eating his life...if he wasn't careful he'd turn into K.K.'s DJ.

Casey notched his head up, preparing to head over to his computer to look at the new tentacle H Lance had sent him, when a growl emanated from out in his living room. Cautiously, Casey stood up and grabbed a well-worn stick, the very stick that was used to hit the Ziggy Bomb whilst it was sleeping. Casey silently crept into his loving room, noticing the lights in his house were entirely out, darkness blanketed his house like a thick impenetrable mist.

He narrowed his eyes, and the growl erupted again from somewhere in front of him. He jumped, taking a step back and holding the stick in front of him. He had the nagging urge to turn and run tail, as he would have done in any other situation, but he had been going to therapy to rid him of the 2,000,000 year cowardice curse of the males of his family.

Casey exhaled and chanted the mantra he had taught himself. "I mustn't run away...I mustn't run away...I mustn't run away..."

Suddenly something flicked a lighter and lit a cigarette, and the creature's face was lit up in front of him.

Casey's eyes widened, and he screamed. "I MUST RUN AWAY! I MUST RUN AWAY!" Casey turned tail and ran as fast as he could go, running smack dab into a rogue vortex, which digested him whole and spit him out on the same material plane as it had spit Jay and Grooben out on.
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Roughtly 30 paces away, Lance also had a very serious look on his face as an intense tentacle rape scene took place on his computer. "Ohhh! NO! NOT THER-AHHH! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! EEEEH!"

Lance stared intently as the scene continued on his scene, then a knock sounded at his door. Instinctively he switched his speakers on and hit minimize, as he gulped. "Come in!"

The door opened, and no one stood there. Puzzled Lance stood and approached the door, putting his hand on the doorknob. "Hello?" he called into the darkness. No answer. Confuzzled, Lance closed the door and turned to walk back to his desk, only to stop short. Sitting in his desk sat a gigantic rodent, with silver fur and red jeans, and a baggy black tank top.

Lance cautiously took a step back, looking at the rodent in distress. The rodent calmly looked up at him and smiled in it's ferret way, and put it's arms behind it's head.

"Wh...what are you?" Lance questioned.

"*ahem* Excuse my manners sir, my name is Dimitrial, and I am a servent of the Weasel-Sama."

"The Weasel-Sama...why would he send one of his lackeys just to talk with little 'ol me?"

"He has sent me to warn you, you are about to undertake an epic quest and you are in grave danger." Dimitrial nodded.

"Is that so? Well in that case, bring it on!" Lance smirked.

Dimitrial smirked wider, his grin almost splitting his face in half. "Very well then, don't' say we didn't warn you."

Dimitrial circled his palm, a dark blue circle forming around his palm. He looked up at Lance, grinned wider and shot his palm forward. The circle flew off his palm and surrounded Lance, turning opaque then disappearing from this realm.

Dimitrial chuckled, and turned to Lance's computer, opening the minimized DivX Player.

"Hmm...tentacle hentai...good choice wot wot..."

And thus the rodentic thunking proceeded...
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"Hey! Who's foot is that?!"

"It's mine jerk face! Get off my stomach!"

"Dude your crushing my foot, get your fat ass up off me!"

And thus began what could only be called a stoner fight, even though such things are logically and physically impossible. More then a fight, it was a desperate struggle for air, space, and leg-room. The enclosed area they were battling in was shaped like a cube, and was pitch black. There was barely room enough for one of them in there, let alone two, and it was also extremely hot. Soon they were both exhausted and collapsed into separate corners of the cube.

After a few precious moments, Jay, the ever-lasting optimistic, spoke up. "Dude...we're gonna' die in here."

"Not shit sherlock."

"Man...Before we die I just wanna tell you that I've always really ap-"

Jay's speech was cut short as the floor fell out beneath them, and both fo them fell abruptly onto their asses on a very hard ground. Wincing, Jay picked himself up and helped Grooben up, forgetting momentarily that he was stoned, and as a result fell down when Grooben tugged on his arm.

"Ouch..." Jay muttered from his prone position on the ground.

Slowly they got to their feet and looked around for place to sit, totally ignoring the stares of roughly 10 very large green men. Finally they slumped down on a pile and began to take notice of their current situation. Jay, the resident Warcraft 3 player, immediately noticed what was going on.

"DUDE! They're orcs! They're frigging orcs!"

"What are you talkiHOLY SHIT! Dude they're orcs!"

One very confuzzled looking orc leaned to the one next to him and whispered, "What the hell's up with these wierdos?"

A broad-cheasted orc stepped up behind the other 10, and roared in disappprovement. He wore a finely polished Scyth over his back, and leather and bone armor hung from his shoulders and thighs. His ears were pierced multiple times, his gigantic fist pointing toward one orc as he addressed him with a booming voice.

"What is going on here?! What are these pink skins doing here?!"

The orc, very small, a Peon actually, spoke up slowly, "Si...Milord, they appeared out of this large suspending crate we smashed. We were just about to question them...perhaps eat them."

"Whoa! Really?!" Jay exclaimed.

"I've never been eaten by an orc before!" Grooben exclaimed way too cheerfully.

The large orc commander spoke up again. "We've no time for this, detain them an-"

He was cut off as a scout ran up and quickly reported. "Sir! The Night Elves begin their attack, a large amount of Druids and Archers advance on this location as we speak, we must begin our defensive maneuvers!"

The orc commander grunted with anger, "We'll deal with these humans later, detain them and hold them inside the Great Hall. To arms my brothers! Lok-Tar!"

The Commander and all the grunts, save two ran after him screaming battle cries, the remaining two moving toward them and grabbing them around their shoulders, hefting the stoners over their shoulders and carrying them to the orc encampment, depositing them within the Great Hall and hurrying to aid in the defense of their base.

After a long silence, Jay looked over at Grooben and thoughtfully remarked. "Dude...I think we're in Warcraft 3..."
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Casey noticed and odd number of sensations coursing through his body as he seemed to plummet. He could see nothing, hear nothing, smell nothing, but his touch sensation was going overboard. In instants he felt ultimate pleasure and terrible pain, glee and dismay, love and hate. Peril began to vanish, and reality began to slip from his mind as he entered this land of permanent stimulation...

However the peril and reality were totally imbedded in his skull with a frigging axe as he crashed ass first onto an stone ground. Pain shot up his ass and back, and he clutched his lower back in pain.

The shink of moving metal sounded, and when Casey opened his eyes he was surrounded by spear hears. The holders of the spears blue men who looked extremely angry. There was a loud thwack, and Casey dropped to the floor unconscious as the butt of a spear smacked him in the back of the neck. The last thoughts that crossed his mind as darkness overcame him were, "I wonder if they have a Hentai channel..."
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Lance found himself standing in the middle of an empty plain, a very peaceful, quiet, tranquil plain. He smiled as he looked about and surveyed the peaceful beauty of it all, and he began to stroll merrily amongst the flowers and trees.

Suddenly the tranquility began to diminish, as the incoming voices of screams, cries, and screams and cries of rage were heard coming from opposing direction, The ground rumbled as the sound intensified, and soon the armies mounted the edges of the Plain. On one end were mean, savage looking green skinned brutes, on the other were feminine dark skinned elves.

Lance then realized the armies were rushing right toward him, and he closed his eyes and trusted in his power of summon random power as he cries out. "POWER OF CHEESE! PROTECT ME!" Lance shouted as his body began to glow orange, and thousands of tiny triangles of cheese began flying around his body like protective magnetic shields. Troops barreled at him and were flung aside like toys, as the power of cheese smacked them powerfully. After a while both sides got the point, and began going around him, giving him a wide berth, and getting the idea he began edging his way out of the battle, back toward the way the Dark Elves had come.

He had almost made it when a chilling voice rang out, calling to him. "Powerful fighter of cheese, stop!"

Lance stopped and turned, looking down a male night elf, a large white and red bandanna tired around his eyes. A large obtuse U shaped blade curved around his left wrist, looking very deadly. It was stained with dried and flesh blood.

"What do you want?" Lance inquired.

"You are very powerful stranger, my side has need for you. Come and help us in our battle friend."

Lance tssk'd, and began his flame. "First of all, I am not your friend. I have no time what your cause is, what your people are, or what your intentions are. I will not follow a cause blindly, so good luck and good-bye." Lance began to walk away.
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"So...Mr. Warcraft, got any other witty banter to add to our current monologue?"

"Nope...nope I got nothing Groobi-Chow."

"I told you never to call me that! Never!"

"All right all right Grooble, chill."

Grooben shook a little and took his rage out by punching the stone wall, hard. Hen then realized why punching a stone wall, hard is not a good idea.

Jay laughed like a mad-man as Grooben hopped around, waving his hand like it was on fire, blowing on it and screaming. "OW! OW! OW!"

His laughter was interrupted as the doors to the Great Hall flung open and the Orc Command er walked in, striding toward them with big...u...strides.

HE stopped and grabbed Jay by his shirt, slamming him against the wall, his fask a mask of impatience and disgust.

"All right, pink-skin. Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?!"

Jay, the high lone gone, felt his short temper light, burn down, and explode in a matter of nanoseconds. Anger overcame him and he drew his fist back, slamming it into the O.C's Jaw. The Commander grunted and flew back into the wall. Jay flew forward and grabbed the Commander's scythe, a loud whoosh appearing as Jay shouted, "Steal!" The scythe vanished, transported to Jay's massive oversees bank account. Jay grabbed the Commander by his armor and flung him into another wall, a crater impacting where Jay flung him.

Jay kicked the orc in the side, sending him sliding across the floor and slamming into a pile of boxes that fell on top of him. Jay stalked over and kicked the boxes aside, grabbing the Commander by the neck.

"Now you listen here asshole, never treat me or my friends as inferiors. Now I want proper food and lodging, and I wish to speak with Thrall! Got it?" He slammed the Commander's head back into the ground. "Good."

Jay stood up and walked to the opposite wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms, smirking to himself. "Damn...i'm good..."
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Adventures in Warcraft III Chapter one Part two
- The Battle
Casey groaned as consciousness slowly returned to him. He opened his eyes and blinked, noting that he was face down a very hard, very cold floor. He sat up, rubbing his eyes before looking up. Casey slowly returned his face to his hands, and resumed rubbing his eyes, wondering if Lance had spiked the milk again. Looking up again, he sighed as he realized he was sober, and he was in a wooden cage surrounded by blue people.

Upon closer examination, he realized they were mid-sized trolls...Ice Trolls to be exact. Fins ran down their backs, and their eyes were ice blue. A Mohawk of orange hair ran down their head to the bottom of their necks.

The trolls guarding him appeared to stir as another troll approached. They snapped to attention and held their spears over their chests. The new troll nodded at them, his blue eyes turning up to gaze upon Casey. A loose black robe flew over his body, it's hood pulled down. He wore a red vest and red pants underneath the robe, but the grey robe cleverly concealed it most of the time. He had blue spiked hair, and his nose, ears, and eyebrows were pierced.

The troll smirked, and turned to the guard again. "Joo be gettin a name from dis outlander?"

"No doing good sir, he just woke up." The guard troll responded.

The bigger troll looked up to Casey, and crossed it's arms over it's chest. "Well...welcome to consciousness. What your name being outlander?"

Casey frowned, and saw no reason to lie. "Casey Mackarel..." he lied, of course.

"I see...and what are you doing in dis land eh? Spying?"

"NO! No I have no idea how I got here, one minute I was running from a monster, next minute I'm here...who are you?"

"Me? I'm Xaren, leader of the Ice Trolls of Shanktaq. I don't trust you, and rules are rules. Sorry but I have tooo be killing joo now."

"What?! NO WAOOOOAH!" Casey screamed as the bottom of the cage was let out, and he fell to the floor, hitting his arse very hard.

"GOD DAMNIT! Every 'effin time!" Casey bitched.

Xaren pulled a dual sided spear from his back, and pointed one tip at Casey's neck, motioning for him to stand. Casey stood shakily, and gulped nervously.

Xaren grinned, "Got any last words neh?"

Casey seemed to consider for a second before nodding. "Yes...yes I do."

A few minutes passed, the wind blew and Xaren sweat-dropped. "Well?"

Casey looked confuzzled. "Well what?"

Xaren sighed, "Your last words."

Casey grinned. "Oh yeah! *ahem* Gotta Go!"

There was an odd whoosh, and Casey disappeared. Xaren's eyes widened as he darted his head about, searching for Casey. He shouted in rage and yelled at his guards. "Find him you morons! Find him and bring him to me!"

As the guards scuttled about to find Casey, Xaren crossed his arms and looked up at the setting sun. "For humiliating me like that...I will hunt you down and kill you Casey Mackerel!"
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Rojo Dooliganger looked up from his scouting position, squinting his eyes to see a Night Archer shoot an arrow at him. It struck him right in the forehead, and he paused, as he reached up and prodded the arrow gingerly.

"That kinda' hurts...I wonder why she did that." Rojo remarked.

HE turned around and walked into the watchtower room, a little room where his companion Regnagilood Ojor was seated, watching an orcish sitcom.

"Oh Dimtrall, please tell me you love me."
"I cannot Sucuraligar, I love Matqrinaxizal more then you. I'm sorry..."
"No! You love me!"
"I'm sorry Sucuraligar...I love-"

The sitcom was interrupted as Rojo spoke up. "Hey Regnagilood, why did a Night Elf just attack me?"

Regnagilood turned, his eyes widening in shock as he surveyed his blood soaked companion.

"Um...well...they're our enemies in this battle."

"Oh..." Rojo said dumbly.

"Um...Rojo?"

"Yes?"

"You ARE aware that when you're shot in the head with an arrow you generally die, right?"

"Oh...right." Rojo slumped to the ground, dead.

Regnagilood paused, taking a deep breath. "What the hell just happened there?"
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Lance laughed in triumph as his mighty cheese blocks flew out to smack Orcs in the jaw, sending them flying to thhe ground whre they were trampled over by fellow Orcs and enemy Night Elves.

A lumbering Kodo Beast flew toward Lance, mouth open to devour the cheese and Lance. Lance smirked as the beast overtook him, gulping up in one bite. The Kodo Beast looked very pleased with itself as did its Orcish rider, until its skin began to ripple.

"What the-" The rider began, before the Kodo exploded in a shower of gore.

Orcs and Night Elves both stopped and stared at Lance, his face contorted with insanity, cackling madly. His body was covered in crimson red blood, and his eyes suddenly shifted from blue, to dark red.

Screaming with bloodlust, he grabbed an orc around the neck, ripping it from it's attacking shoulders and throwing it to the side. The cheese surrounding him suddenly became black, spikes and blades jutting from its sides.

Nearby Orcs were slaughtered instantly as the cheese flew out, dissecting, bisecting, and asecting (whatever the hell that is) Orcs by the dozen.

Lance's lunatic screams echoed throughout the blood soaked battlefield.
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"What?!" Grom Hellscream shouted in anger. "What did you say?!"

"Sir...there is a mighty entity on the battlefield. He looks like an overweight otaku, b ut he commands a mighty legion of cheese, they have almost obliterated us from the battlefield."

Grom's eyes opened in horror, and he grabbed his mighty sword and ran forward through out of the tent, grabbing the nearest Warlock and commanding him to teleport them to the battle. The shaman nodded and transported them, to the carnage.

Grom's eyes surveyed the battlefield with rage and disgust; bodies of his soldiers littered the floor, hundreds of them. Looking up the battlefield he saw a mass of black and red, whizzing blocks of cheese surrounding it. Grom gripped his sword firmly and flew forward, screaming battle cries in his native tongue.
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Lance turned, as a very large very brave Orc hurtled toward him. Smirking he sent a wedge of cheese to cut his head off. His eyes opened in surprise as Grom's sword swept to the side and battered the wedge aside.

Lance fully turned and sent three wedges after him, and with super-fast speed Grom blocked them, nearing Lance.
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Grom batted more wedges of cheese away as he neared Lance; finally he was within striking range. He swept his sword to the side and prepared for the final blow.

Lance's eyes lit up with amusement, as Grom pulled his sword back, leaving him momentarily defenseless. At this moment, dozens of blocks of cheese swarmed Grom, cutting him to pieces. Lance cackled as the mighty warrior known as Grom Hellscream fell to the ground in pieces.
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Casey found himself on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the Troll encampment. Shocked, he looked around. One minute he had been prepared to die, the next he was here. Then realization struck him large a rolled up newspaper hits as fly residing on a cup of coffee, which generally spills the cup of coffee into the fly killer's lap, burning his/her genitals/genitalia into uselessness. His run away skill had worked!

Casey leapt in triumph. "Who's 'da man!"

"Not you." A voice said form behind him.

Casey turned, as he looked upon the Death Knight Arthas.

"Hey, you're Arthas!"

"Indeed I am. Your escape skill is powerful, but not very offensive. However the Lich King has use of you."

Casey's eyes narrowed. "I will not be a tool for the Lich King."

Arthas drew his sword, and pointed it at Casey. "You will join us, and serve the Lich King!"

"Well...if you put it that way...Gotta Go!" *whoosh*
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Illidan looked upon the battlefield, delight evident on his face as Lance and his Night Elves destroyed the Orc Stronghold. Finally, the Orcs had been driven from the forest Altequar. However, there were still those pink skins...they had to be dealt with...he smirked and began to la ugh, his plans were going perfectly. Weasel-Sama would be pleased.
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Grooben sat in a corner of the Town Hall, carefully rolling a joint as Jay paced the room. Grooben rolled his eyes and the joint as he looked up at Jay, he had said something about a disturbance in the H, and he had been quiet ever since.

Grooben finish rolling and licked the joint closed, lighting it up and inhaling. Jay walked over and sat down next to Grooben, taking the joint and taking a hit before handing it back, exhaling and pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them.

"Lance is here." Jay said after a few seconds of silence.

"Oh, that big otaku guy?" Grooben asked as he handed the joint to Jay.

Jay nodded, pulling the joint to his lips. He had just inhaled when the Great Hall shook, then began to quiver as a gigantic hole was ripped into the side of it, and a leather clad man stepped through, blocks of cheese whizzing around him.

Jay looked up and nodded understandingly. "Hello Lance, at least what used to be Lance."

Grooben looked up in shock, the figure before him looked nothing like the Lance he knew. His skin had grown midnight black, and his eyes glowed crimson red. Red and B lack blocks of cheese flew around him.

"THAT'S' LANCE?!" Grooben shouted.

"Yes."

Jay stood and took a few steps toward Lance, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know what's happened to you Lance, or should I say, Dameon."

Dameon's eyes flared, the cheese around him spinning faster.

"How do you know my true name mortal?"

"Now that...is a secret." Briefly a robe and gnarled staff appeared on Jay, before flickering off and leaving him in his normal gothapunk attire.

"How dare you utilize the powers of the Sora Wa Himitsu Desu! I will kill you for that!" Dameon screamed in rage.

"I think...not" Jay smirked as dozens of blocks of cheese wizzed towards Jay. A blue aura flickered around Jay's body, the cheese bouncing harmlessly off of it and returning to their non-bladed orange wedge shapes, before falling to the ground.

Demon Lance's eyes narrow to red slits, a red aura surrounding his body and beginning to intensify.

"I had no idea you had powers great enough to defeat cheese...but you are nothing compared to my power!"

D.Lance screamed in demonic rage and hurtled itself at Jay, who agily sidestepped and kicked backwards, striking a solid blow into D.Lance's back, sending him flying forward and impacting into the wall of the Great Hall. D.Lance scrambled to his feet, the aura surrounding him intensifying around him, strengthening him more. Before him Jay smirked and shifted into a casual position, mocking D.Lance with his apparent lack of concern.

"You..you dare to mock me? MOCK ME?!"

"Um..." Jay seemed to pause in serious puzzlement, this his face lit up with an answer, "Yup!"

Lance's aura turned blood red, his body trembling with uncontrollable rage.

"YOU! DIE!"

Lance hurtled himself at Jay, his clawed hand slicing down toward his chest, but Jay disappeared and Lance stumbled to a halt. His eyes darted around to see where he had gone to. A whistle from behind him signaled him, and D.Lance spun around to have his face meet Jay's fist. D.Lance stumbled backwards, but his sheer rage kept him up, as he stumbled forward clumsily, obviously injured to the godly power in Jay's fists.

Jay grinned, and stepped forward as his arms almost seemed to disappear at the speed they moved, they moved at speeds physically impossible for humans. In a split second, Jay had punched D.Lance 80 times. Time seemed to slow as Jay's arms pulled backwards to his side, a glowing ball of energy forming there.

"Mari..."

D.Lance's eyes opened in horror, but the pain slowly spreading over his body kept him immobile as the ball of energy in Jay's palms grew.

"Juana..."

Grooben looked on, confusion spread across his face as he turned toward the man-sized weasel who sat next to him. "I have no idea what's going on..."

The weasel turned to look at Grooben, and then looked back at the battle, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Hame..."

Casey trekked through the deserted plains of Gora Gora Bor, his muscles straining to make over the next dune. "Just one more dune to go...just one more dune to go...who am I kidding, I said that three dunes ago." He trudged on, his eyes beginning to slowly open and close. "Must go on...I must go on...*pant pant* Oh...Who am I kidding..." A thud sounded as Casey fell to the ground.

"HA!"

Jay thrust his arms forward, and the ball of light flew from his hand into D.Lance's chest. D.Lance flew backwards, screaming in page and rain...wait a minute...rage and pain, as the light from the ball began to eat the darkness surrounding him. He hit the ground painfully, and the light consumed his body, glowing even brighter. A brilliant flash of light made everyone shield their eyes, and when they looked again the aura of light had gone, leaving the normal Lance painfully sprawled out on the ground.

"Medic..." Lance painfully muttered.
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Casey woke from his slumber abruptly, as a shower of freezing water hit him. He shot into a sitting position as he saw a bone-armor clad figure resting on top of a skeleton horse throw a jug of water to the side, as Casey slowly rubbed his eyes and stood up.

Finally his vision completely returned, as he looked up at Arthas with the cheesy face disguise on. Casey sweat dropped as he stared at Arthas.

"Hello..Arthas..."

Arthas blinked, and coughed nervously. "Erm...I'm not Arthas...I'm Cornelius."

"No..your Arthas..."

Arthas sighed and pulled his busy eyebrows and huge nose off, tossing them to the ground. "Damn it...I was sure you'd never recognize me in that disguise..."

Casey sweat dropped again, and ran his hand through his hair. "Can I help you?"

"You must come with me."

"Why?" Casey questioned.

"Because the Lich King had foreseen there will be a great battle, and you will be useless as you are now. You will need to train in the powers of The Power."

"Battle?" Casey looked up at Arthas confuzzled. "What is this 'The Power'?"

Arthas struck a pose, dark light (ironic eh?) surrounding him. "The power of H!"

Casey's eyes opened wide, and he glomped Arthas. "WHERE DO I SIGN ON?!"

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To Be Continued!

Next Chapter – The Insanity Continues! The void has been released?! And what of Casey's training in the H powers?! Tune in next time, same crazy network, same crazy channel.