Yo people what up? For a while I was on being banned from writing for a few infractions in a couple of other stories (both removed). So I'm posting this chapter today. This one is a bit more than funny (I hope you think so too). It's gonna be a while, however, before I get chapter four up as I have a lot to do on the subject of my new Little Fighter story titled "Beginnings." Expect to see that updated with at least two chapters by thursday the 28th if not earlier.
CHAPTER IIIWhy You Never Trust Monks
The temple of Tai Hom was one that reminded Deep of a ritzy French restaurant. God, I can't believe I'm thinking about the French after what that one rat bastard did to me. I'm lucky to be alive still. Deep thought bitterly. A monk from a small temple in Paris had once tricked him into giving a raccoon mouth to mouth. The result was Deep's hospitalization as he nearly died of some fatal disease. Although the temple of his home village was fancy on the outside, the inside looked like every other temple or shrine...beat up and run-down.
He looked around and saw a small tan colored robe hanging on an indoor clothesline. "Boy I hope there's no gnomes around." He joked. He remembered reading a story once, as a kid, about gnomes. The gnomes stole people's clothes. Not a very trustworthy species. But then neither were monks. "Hello? Jiala?" He hoped there was no one home. "Who's there?" came a dusty sounding voice. "Uhhh...Deep sir." He sounded shaky when answering the monks question. "You a friend of those four dumbshits who think they're warriors?" "Actually there's ten of us in all." He could'nt believe that the old geezer wasn't able to count. But of course I can't either. He thought to himself. "What do you want?" The old man asked. "I'd like to let you know that we will assume no responsibility to any and all damage that is about to come to the western side of Queen's Island." The monk walked into the light. For being an old man he looked to be about fifty. "You damn kids have no respect for paradise these days." Deep couldn't believe it. His idea of paradise is caves of death and possible life taking things everywhere you look? Have you gone blind old man or do you work for the Dark Masters? "What do you want with those caves?" "Umm...well...uhh...Archeology?" he suggested weakly. "Don't lie to me boy, I remember when I was your age that people who wanted to have any form of terrorizing done on old relics must have some form of brain not to be that dumb when answering a simple question in order to bullshit what they really were doing." Deep turned around to leave and saw three masked men walk in. "We're the monks who steal clothes for the hell of it." The leader announced stuffing Jiala's spare robe in a cloth sack. "Anything else?" Jiala queried. "Yeah, we also steal spray paint." They put sixteen colors worth of spray paint in the sack as well and left. "Damn it all, I was going to have some fun with the wall dividing the east from the west." He muttered. "There goes my vandalizing fun." And that. Deep thought, is why you never trust monks.