AN: Yo! Quick update here. This is my CRACKFIC for when I really need to take a break from reality. Meaning, it's not going to get some real love until I'm way past the pale of no fucks given anymore. With that said, I'm going to throw up everything I got done for this story so far.
To those who do enjoy my full crack content, I hope you enjoy.
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Disclaimer: I own no source material.
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Chapter 6: Highschool of The Dead Part 2: Having Fun, Death By….
~2 Weeks Later~
[Play Song = Michael Bublé - Feeling Good]
"Birds flying high~, you know how I feel~."
A warm rain shower fell over Jafar's head, running over his black locks and down his fit and tanned body before dripping into the fancy tiles far below.
"Sun in the sky~, you know how I feel~."
His smooth baritone voice vibrated off the bathroom's tiled walls to the song's beat.
"Breeze driftin on by~, you know how I feel~."
Steam fogged up the glass and lazily twirled up into the air in swirls.
"It's a new dawn~, it's a new day~, it's a new life, for meeee."
A hand rose and turned the chrome handle to the off position.
"And I'm feeling good. I'm feeling good~."
The Jade Beauty looked up with a smile of pure relaxation as he slid open the glass shower door, strutting out to the beat of the music without a care about the dripping water.
"Fish in the sea~, you know how I feel~."
He passed a table against the far wall and flicked on the coffee maker on his way to the sink.
"River running free~, you know how I feel~."
Mouthwash was gargled and spat out as he hummed the following verse.
"Blossom on a tree~, you know how I feel~."
He looked at himself in the mirror, still marveling at how the face he always knew could look so different with a change of mentality.
"It's a new dawn~."
His lips moved with a smirk.
"It's a new day~."
He winked at his reflection, his green eyes sparkling like a Disney character. His reflection winked back.
"It's a new life~. For me~."
He tossed the hand towel over his shoulder and threw his hands out.
"And I'm feeeeellliiinnnng good~."
He slid across the tiled ground with his head tilted down and his hand on an imaginary hat. His hand grabbing the handle of a coffee cup from the machine as he strutted on by. The ass that once conquered a dark lord on proud display as he stepped out into the rising sunlight on the balcony.
"Dragonfly out in the sun~, you know what I mean, don't you know~?"
His free hand reached down to pat Paul the Trapinch's shell in greeting as the orange Pokemon excitedly gurgled at him like a puppy.
"Butterflies all havin' fun~, you know what I mean~."
He reached the edge of the balcony, feeling the warm wind blow his damp hair back and wash over his nude body.
"Sleep in peace when day is done~, that's what I mean~."
Hundreds of long drawn out groans of inhuman hunger called out at once in denial.
"And this old world is a new world~."
He put down his cup and lifted a particular object with a long string.
"And a bold world~."
The string was lit with a lighter.
"For me~."
The object tossed casually off the edge of the balcony.
"For me~."
The flames reached toward the skies as he sipped his morning coffee. Humming along to the rest of the lyrics as his grimoire's song rang into the surroundings, drawing only more shambling figures into the raging inferno.
Jafar tossed his empty cup over the edge and lit a cigarette on the flames before crashing back into a deck chair with a groan of satisfaction as his hands rested behind his head.
"Quest complete~."
{"I hate you. I hate you so fucking much."}
"Love you too babe~."
{"Would you PLEASE stop fucking singing!"}
A cloud of smoke left his mouth as he exhaled. "Don't kill my vibe man, it's a good morning."
{"You cheated."}
Jafar wagged a finger back and forth.
"Nuh uh, I fulfilled the parameters of the quest. [Kill 1,000 zombies, with a tampon].Pretty sure there were over a thousand down there."
{"But that….this….GAH! I HATE YOU!"}
Jafar leaned into the sunlight with a shit eating smile. "Victory tastes oh so sweet."
A demonic growl was his answer. {"You realize I'm going to make the next one hurt more right?"}
Jafar shrugged. "Whatever, I upheld my side of the bargain."
Alfred sighed in defeat. {"That might be the only quality I actually respect of yours. I can't believe you fucking did it."}
"I'm just that good."
{"Says the guy who can't cast a spell in his own magic for shit."}
Jafar's brow twitched at the reminder. His early attempts at magic came to the forefront of his mind.
0000000
Day 4:
"I see, I see." Jafar bobbed his head in understanding while standing in a burned-out rural church as he read over the textbook on fifth-year charms. His finger going over the lines as he read alone on the podium where a priest was meant to preach.
"So if X is equal to Y and Y is the sum of X times the square root of Pi, then reality goes burr."
{"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"}
"Shush, I'm working magical science here."
His grimoire was placed aside as Jafar lifted a hand and trailed a finger in the image of the wand movement, imagining what he wanted. The textbook had twenty-two charms, but many were revisions from earlier years. For example, the spell for bright light, Lumos Maxima, could have the Maxima removed to make an easier spell.
And Lumos was the easiest spell. At least, according to the great one known as Fanon.
So Jafar stood there, feet spread apart, shoulders squared up, connecting to the world around him, eyes flaring with inner power, and arms waving powerfully like a hentai tentacle monster seeing sailor moon for close to ten minutes.
{"You look like you took crack given by a guy under a bridge and then got constipated while thinking about something important."}
"Sssshhhhhhh, I can feel the force."
{"Well is the force going to help you with the Zombie coming through the door?"}
Jafar's moving tentacle arms paused as he identified that there was indeed a zombie shambling down the aisle toward him.
Jafar's powerfully glowing eyes stared into his foe's rolled back white pupils as his arms slowly sped back up. "Have you come to hear the word of our lord and savior? The great cat goddess in the sky?"
"Grah!"
"BLASPHEMY! You have come to die!"
"Grahhhh."
Jafar gave his foe a nod of respect and pulled his hands back. "Your name shall not be forgotten Grah. Go forth and die, knowing you have fallen to a worthy adversary."
Jafar threw his hands forward and shouted with passion. "LUMOS!"
A fallen shoe turned into a mouse with a Beret on its head, and it looked up at Jafar with sparkling beady black eyes and saluted him with a tiny paw. "Squeak!"
"…."
{"…."}
"Grah?"
{"Pft~! Hahahahahah!"}
"Wait, wait, wait, why?!" Jafar turned back to the textbook with wild eyes and flipped through the pages. "Did I not account for the latitude of H?"
{"Hahahaha you're a moron!"}
The zombie shook itself from its own strange reaction to reach for the human, only to freeze in place as something grabbed its ankle.
Agent Squeakers narrowed its beady eyes at the undead with the fury of Muspelheim burning in its soul as it held a single paw to the ankle of the giant undead before it.
The undead filth dared to reach for the great creator.
With a silent scream of kung fu fury, the zombie suddenly found itself planted in the ground. Like the fury of Hulk humiliating Loki, the zombie was rag dolled back and forth into the hard ground a dozen times as agent squeakers held no mercy.
Meanwhile, oblivious to what was happening behind him, Jafar was attempting advanced calculus using his fingers and small pebbles. "If I subtract J(97) from the sum of B(2X) divided by…."
{"Hahahahaha!"}
The only one who seemed to be paying attention was Alfred. The demon far too busy holding his sides in laughter at the idiocy on both sides to even comment.
Safe to say, little was accomplished that day, and Agent Squeakers fell in the line of duty after the fifth zombie roamed in.
By that point, Jafar got annoyed at the interruptions and started beating Zombies with a dildo, which he got on his fourth attempt to cast the basic light charm, and even managed to fulfill the questline Alfred gave him in a deal they made.
00000
Present:
After his little entrance into the world and decision to stay to train, Jafar thought he could figure stuff out on his own after Alfred's ridiculous questlines.
Reality thought differently, and Jafar finally conceded he needed all the answers he could get to his various abilities.
Alfred turned out to be a font of knowledge, but the little shit trash panda didn't give out information for free. The explanation of the undead was only free out of personal hatred for them.
So they made a deal.
One question for one quest to kill 1,000 zombies with whatever tool Alfred chose.
The most recent one being a tampon.
The others over the last two weeks being a dildo, a ladder, a toilet seat, a jar of peanut butter, and a lawn mower. The last one was bloody enough to make DoomSlayer proud.
The rule was that he had to make use of the object, but how he did it was up to him.
Current example, broadcast music while he took a shower in his bathroom.
Said bathroom being the only thing existing on a pillar of stone eighty feet in the air with a water tank and portable solar generator.
Said pillar used to be an expensive mansion on a hill before Paul the Trapinch used [Dig] to not only remove everything except the pillar but dug a trench beneath said pillar.
Then the trench and walls of the pillar were covered in oil.
Then they waited, and he dropped a lit tampon into the oil after zombies piled in.
Job done. One demon deal complete. One question to be asked.
The question of why Jafar had to make such a pillar in the first place was doubly due to his desire to take a shower where he could sing without having visitors and so he could sleep without relying on Alfred's limited ability to project demonic aura, which the fucker started charging him for.
But mainly for the shower. He had to fight nude and wet fourteen times before he could sing and shower peacefully. And not in the fun way.
"I want my next answer."
{"Yeah, yeah, ask."}
"Tell me about how the Tier system works, why does my grimoire know it and I don't?"
Alfred sighed. {"Alright, your remember what I told you about your last two questions?"}
"Yeah. For my question about what the hell my grimoire was, you told me it's a bullshit void artifact bound to my soul without a single combat application so it's useless. I beg to differ; it has music and tells me stuff."
{"Meatbad, that's a fucking Void Artifact. Admittedly, it looks accidentally made, but a Void Artifact is a Void Artifact. Those things are practically indestructible. The fact that it's a combination of a grimoire meant to hold a demon, your chaos magic, and whatever the fuck your smartwatch was only makes it more ridiculous. Your only saving grace is that no one with any sanity would want to touch a chaos magic infused grimoire. You only have to fear the rare art collector."}
Jafar snapped his fingers. "Gotcha, keep an eye out for evil art collector cultivators."
Alfred ignored him and went on. {"You sure you recall what I said about universes?"}
Jafar rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Big Omniverse bubble containing smaller Multiverse bubbles, one for every story. Each Multiverse bubble contains smaller Universe bubbles, one for every alternate universe from everything down to fanfiction.
It's like big ole tree of 'erse' bullshit.
The void fills the gaps between every Universe and Multiverse inside the Omniverse bubble. The void is deadly. We are currently in one of the millions of Universes belonging to this Highschool of The Dead worlds Multiverse bubble. Bunch of shit I won't bother remembering after a while.
How the hell did you end up in the Harry Potter multiverse anyway?"
{"Is that your question?"}
Jafar smashed the raccoon ring on the ground.
{"OW! Fuck you! Do you think you can comprehend how the Omniverse works? Multiverse bubbles are not actually bubbles; that's just a way to explain it. And they move around a lot, so occasionally, overlap happens, and for those who know how, crossing over becomes easier. Although you can also get stuck if you don't leave in time."}
"Speaking from experience?"
{"Oh fuck off. I had never failed a ritual before. When a demon doesn't get back in time, they are pretty much signed off for good. Your just bullshit with your void energy filled body."}
"Fair. Now, explain Tier stuff."
{"Look, It's not like I have all the answers to everything you want. I'm just old and have been around the block, so to speak."}
"You need hearing aids too?"
{"I WILL END YOU! Anyway, I'm not going to explain everything about tiers because we can spend years talking about this shit without full answers. I'll just tell you what relates to you."}
Jafar blew out more smoke. "That's fine. I'll get bored if you droned on too long."
{"I really shouldn't fear you being bored. Great Scott, what has happened to me."}
"Ha! You're still thinking about the Scottish guy in space."
{"Die in a ditch. Alright, tiers are based on the power of an individual, spell, curse, formation, etc.
Not everyone destroys after all. So it's based on the ability to affect things with their own power. Not resources, although don't underestimate those with them.
The ability to destroy, build, alter, etc.
The first three tiers are mortal cannon fodder. Tier 0 would be base lifeforms without power. Wizards like the ones I was trying to eat were Tier 1 or 2 fodder. I couldn't really tell since I was being fucked in the ass by a ritual against my will."}
Alfred let the silence stretch for a moment to make Jafar sweat. "…not my fault."
He went on. {"From Tier 4 to 11, it goes Country scale, Continent, Planet, Star, Solar System, Galaxy, Universe, Multiverse. The dragon that killed you could have been anywhere from Tier 9 – 11. It's probably why you survived in the void to become the freak that you are."}
Jafar rolled his eyes. "Yeah, really feeling the love bud. When put into scale, it sounds crazy that I met Arceus and the Living Tribunal."
{"You were less than an ant to them."}
Jafar held a hand over his heart in fake pain as he hopped up to his feet. "You wound me. But your probably right. Good thing they were nice about things."
He flicked his cigarette bud over the edge and stretched his limbs in the morning sun with a happy groan. "Wait, what tier are you on that scale?"
Alfred was silent for a moment before he deflected. {"…Is that another question?}
Jafar just chuckled and looked into the distance at a city a few miles away. He passed six quests in two weeks for Alfred and got six answers to explain things.
His first ones were why his magic didn't work, what a Devil Arm was, and what a luck curse was.
He wanted to ask plenty of questions, but he always just asked whatever came to his mind at the time and pushed on. Which is why his last three questions were more about how things worked.
How did the universe work? What was his grimoire? What were the tiers?
There was so much to learn, and zombies were his price for that knowledge.
Killing zombies was more straightforward than it seemed, considering they responded to sound rather than sight or scent. They were slow, they didn't have any powers, and they couldn't think or plan.
All they had was a human's ability to remove the mental limiter on strength, meaning they could use 100% of their muscles while ignoring the self-damage.
When it came to asking about the undead, his trash panda held nothing back. He explained that the zombies infected only through biting and would only stop once their brain was damaged enough.
The first few days, he just scoped things out and tested the waters, so to speak. But the day he snapped from failing to cast magic correctly and started killing them with a dildo, he realized the ease with which he could kill them and really got into things.
It was like a game after a point despite knowing it was reality. And he was unsure how to feel about the fact that he didn't bat an eyelash or have a single ripple in his thoughts about the blood and gore. Hell, he wasn't even bothered that he didn't feel bothered.
He would rather instead focus on why he couldn't get his magic to work.
00000
After finishing the first quest for death by dildo.
{"You're going about this the wrong way."}
Jafar plucked the flower stalks from his skull that were originally strands of hair and deadpanned. "No shit."
{"Do you want me to answer your question or not? You broke eight dildos to get a thousand kills."}
"Don't remind me. I still remember the face of that one zombie chick who eagerly choked on my sixth one. There was no recovering Wilson the 6th from that."
{"Some habits are beyond logic. Don't think too hard on it."}
His voice was a horrified whisper. "Her face."
{"Snap out of it man! Don't go down that road."}
Jafar blinked and nodded his thanks. "Right, so why isn't my magic working? Is it because I don't have a wand?"
{"Why do you keep trying to cast those little wizard charms instead of focusing on your grimoire?"}
"Because I want to be a wizard and zap people!"
Alfred scoffed. {"Don't think like those fools. You use chaos magic; they use arcane magic. They are similar in many ways but fundamentally different. Chaos is a scarce element.
You said you got covered in dragon blood when you died, right? Well, I can't say if it was the dragon who was connected to the chaos element, if you yourself were just naturally attuned to it, if the void did something, or some combination of all of it because, frankly, a human shouldn't have chaos magic."}
Jafar raised a finger at that. "Not a human, remember? My grimoire just shows question marks next to my species."
{"Yeah, most likely due to the Void energy. Your both something and nothing. A living paradox of bullshit."}
"I am Jafar."
{"Are you saying that as your name or species?"}
Jafar quickly opened his grimoire with a smile. "Yes."
[Species: Jafar]
Alfred rolled his eyes. {"Whatever floats your boat. Anyway, I can't tell you how to use chaos magic. That's like telling someone to grab air with their hands while being in space.
Chaos magic inherently defies logic and alters reality. You can't logic bullshit. The more you try, the crazier the results.
There are fundamentally two ways to use magic in general. Through understanding and through logic.
Understanding is about becoming closer to the source of your magic affinity and directly using it to your wishes. The closer you are to it, the better the results.
Logic is through using formulas, calculations, and systems to force magic down pipelines, so to speak.
Chaos magic will actively fight the second method. Those who use the first method with the chaos element have alien minds compared to most intelligent life that makes it work.
My advice? If you adamant about casting magic without using your grimoire, and I can't believe I'm saying this but try to think less and do more."}
Jafar tapped his foot in thought. "Think less, do more. Hm…"
He pointed a finger at a wall and imagined a small ball of light. "Lumos."
An explosion blew the wall off and sent Jafar tumbling ass over kettle through a layer of drywall and into the bright moonlight decorated by hundreds of unblinking undead eyes staring directly at his position.
His ears ringing, and seeing everything in doubles, Jafar barely heard Alfred laughing his ass off. "ALFRED!" He couldn't even tell he was shouting as the zombies zeroed in on him.
Alfred's voice cut through the ringing. {"Think less, do more mortal. Let's see if you survive the night."}
"You're a dick."
{"Yeah, and at least I have one."}
"Used to."
{"FUCK YOU!"}
"Fuck your mom!"
{"Don't bring my mother into this! That woman knitted flesh into clothes for years to put food on the table!"}
"Raccoons sitting around a table, how ironic."
{"I WILL END YOU."}
The two fell into their bickering just as the first zombie grabbed his arm, and both of them blinked.
{"Oh, right."} / "Oh, right."
00000
Present:
Since then, progress has yet to be made. His magic was more likely to cause an explosion in a random direction than cast a simple light spell.
Not that it would stop him from trying. He was sure he could figure it out. He just had to keep trying. No matter how many times Alfred told him to stop.
Then there was the question of what the hell a Devil Arm was. Alfred's answer was simple. Devil Arms were demonic, variably sentient weapons that were commonly the manifestation of a defeated Demon's soul or power. In Alfred's case, it was his power that was sacrificed while his soul was retained, much to his anger and Jafar's amusement.
When wielded, Devil Arms often convey their unique power to the wielder, provided they have been subdued first.
Whatever form, forms, or powers Alfred had, he wasn't sharing until Jafar proved himself worthy, which in this case was to kill a million enemies with his own hands. A tall order since he couldn't use his Pokemon or automatic weapons to do it. He checked.
Especially since he only had a limited window until the zombies started evolving through cannibalism. But the more he killed them, the quicker he picked up on things.
His body was clearly enhanced from his Animagus form. Even if he had no fucking idea how to actually change into his animal form or how enhanced.
An adult zombie using 100% of their muscles to grab his arm only bruised him and ripped off some skin rather than remove the flesh from his bones.
He was more robust, more durable, and had more endurance than he ever remembered being in his human body before things all began.
One hundred pull-ups, one hundred hip thrusts, one hundred zombie head bashes. Every single day.
That was the path to greatness.
The question of what the luck curse was resulted in an interesting answer.
00000
A few days ago:
"What do you mean you don't know?" Jafar exclaimed while focusing on the road.
{"What I meant was… oh on the left! Floor it!"}
Jafar smashed the peddle to the floor as his pickup truck drove by a zombie and bashed its head in with the ladder strapped down to the hood, splattering blood and gore in a buckshot of gross.
Jafar and Alfred cheered in unison. {"That's what I'm talking about! Fuck you zombie!"}
"Not a bad way to kill a thousand zombies with a ladder eh?"
{"My respect for you has gone up. It's now at negative five."}
"Wait, why did it go so far up? The peanut butter jar?"
{"The peanut butter jar."}
The two shared an evil laugh before Alfred got back on topic.
{"Anyway, luck curses are iffy. When a luck potion is made, it literally harvests the luck from a location. The stronger the ingredients and potion maker's skill, the larger the area the luck is harvested from.
Tier 3 means you basically drank a city's luck. Now it's calling in its payment."}
The truck swerved into a group of zombies as Jafar ripped the emergency brake and drifted with an excited smile despite never having driven before that day. "You mean like a loan? Do I gotta deal with dimensional loan sharks or something? That sounds terrifying! They might take my coffee machine."
Alfred absentmindedly replied while cheering as a zombie's head landed in a trash can. {"Ten points! And don't be an idiot; dimensional loan sharks don't come after small fry like you."}
"Wait! Dimensional loan sharks are a thing?! I was just joking. Omniverse is scary."
Alfred chuckled. {"Like I said, they go after bigger game than you. A tier 3 curse means the city you took the luck from will take back the luck you spent with a bit of interest. How that works, I can't tell you, but at that level, it's usually specific to one area of bad luck for you.
Just be glad it's not a higher-grade curse. Then after you die, you get turned into a golden child soul for the world to reincarnate over and over while throwing all its problems at you. Only to kill you off and do it again at some other time period until your debt is paid off."}
Jafar blinked at that. "That is…. oddly informative and makes me look at main characters in a different light."
{"Don't think about it too much. There is a different demon realm for every multiverse, how do you think I feel?"}
"So what's my area of bad luck?"
{"Who knows. You feel unlucky yet?"}
"How do you tell if your unlucky?"
{"You could always try casting a spell again?"}
"Oh, that's a good idea!"
{"Wait, I wasn't being serio-"}
"Lumos!"
The car glowed red, and Jafar had less than three seconds to widen his eyes and jump headfirst out his open window before it exploded in a massive fireball that not only blew Jafar headfirst into a lamppost but summoned every zombie in a fifty-mile radius.
Jafar peeled himself off the post with difficulty.
{"….Maybe it's explosions."}
"I see a tweety bird."
{"Theres a zombie behind you."}
"Bad tweety bird." Jafar picked up the broken half of the ladder and started bashing, Unknowingly keeping a giant ball of light hovering over his head the whole time.
00000
Present:
The last two things on his scan were tied together in a weird way, and didn't need him to ask Alfred for answers. All-Speak was self-explanatory if untested. It allowed him to speak and understand languages. Not read or write them, as he came to realize while looking at a Spanish textbook he failed to understand in 10th grade. He killed a zombie with it to prove to his Spanish teacher that he could make it useful.
Not that he cared, he was free as a kite.
With each passing day that things settled in, he found himself having more and more fun.
Quests from Alfred became less meant to get answers and more for them to simply one-up each other.
Death by ice cream cones. Every ice cream shop in three cities had to be raided to get enough.
Death by backflips. Death from above. Fantastic acrobatics training. Wear rain boots.
Death by a Chinese paper fan. Death reigned down upon their souls as 10,000 fans were sacrificed to accomplish the mission while posing as wuxia characters. The fact that the search for Chinese fans led them to martial art stores only worsened the competition as unsharpened weapons began being used bad enough to make any actual cultivator kill him on principle to save face.
Death by a live fish slap. The humiliation alone was enough.
The quests only got more amusing as time went on, but then came the day he got drunk and crashed a tricycle covered in zombie blood through a military base's armory door and opened Pandora's box.
No, Pandora herself wouldn't open that box, but Jafar would.
Jafar's manic smile grew three sizes that day.
00000
Death by machine gun.
"Ahahahahahahah!"
{"GET SOME!"}
Wearing a mockery of a military outfit that would make Rambo proud, Jafar skipped down streets fully covered in ammo belts and skipping with every step as he unloaded holy retribution on the undead while Dividing By Zero by the Offspring blared from his grimoire without end.
And then the Nazi zombies came and returned fire.
00000
Death by RPG
"DODGEROCKET TIME!"
{"MWAHAHAH! DANCE YOU FOOLS!"}
00000
Death by Helicopter.
"Hold my beer."
{"….this isn't funny anymore."}
"I got this."
{"We haven't even left the ground, how drunk are you?"}
"Yes."
Switches were flipped like an expert toddler and they took off like a rocket into the air spinning like a kaleidoscope as Alfred screamed like a little girl at the top of his nonexistent lungs and Jafar laughed manically.
"MY DRILL WILL PIERCE THE HEAVENS!"
{"AAAAAHHH! THIS ISNT A DRILL!"}
"THAT'S WHAT THEY WANT YOU TO THINK!"
{"WHO IS THEY?!"}
"THEY TOOK YOUR MEMORY! THOSE BASTARDS! THEY KILLED KENNY!"
{"WHO IS KENNY!?"}
"I'm going in."
{"AAHHHH…what?"}
The helicopter aimed downward toward a zombie horde and Alfred's octaves cracked the bullet proof safety glass.
1000 feet and closing and Jafar turns around to grab another beer.
{"LOOK AT THE ROAD MORON! AAAAHHHH!"}
"Silly Alfred, there is no road."
500 feet and closing and Jafar's leg hit the steering stick and sent them into a spiral descent while he fingered the six packs plastic hoop thing that somehow killed dolphins if it wasn't recycled right.
{"I'M GONNA WRING YOUR NECK IN HELL FOR THIS JAAAFFAARR!"}
200 feet and Jafar got the can and plopped back in his seat with a sigh of relief.
"Phew, tough fucker wasn't it?" Crack. Tsss. "Ahh~."
{"JAFAR!"}
He hummed and looked forward as lightning flashed, illuminating the horde of undead before him and farted in surprise, sending him sideways into the control stick and somehow bringing their spiraling descent into a curved line. Upside down.
"I AM JAFAR!"
{"THIS IS SUCH BULLSHIT!"}
The military choppers blades cut through bone and flesh like a weedwhacker as Jafar spilled his beer and laughed maniacally. "Brings back memories of using the lawnmower right?!"
{"SHUT UP YOU MORON AND LAND THIS THING!"}
Jafar rolled his eyes, and not by his own power as the chopper's blades tore apart and the body went tumbling through the zombie horde like the worlds biggest bowling bowl through paintball pins.
When they eventually stopped, the door was kicked open and Jafar stuck his head out to come face to face with a detached zombie head on a spike.
It groaned at him.
Jafar threw up on it.
It was not amused.
"Ah, excuse me, would you perhaps know directions to the nearest liquor store?"
{"I hate you so much!"}
Jafar blearily looked around and blinked a few times at where he landed.
"Are we in heaven?"
A broken sign showed they arrived at Australia's Medical Marijuana farm.
"Grah!"
{"I'm with the zombie, this won't end well."}
"Psh, that's just the aussie accent. He meant well."
{"That's a female."}
"Is it? Its kinda hard to tell with the puke on it."
"GRAH!"
"Ohhh! Now I see it."
He took five steps, tripped on himself drunkenly, and narrowly avoided the helicopter exploding in a fiery shrapnel explosion that spread like napalm to its surroundings.
"NOOOOO! THE CHILDREN!"
{"…."}
Enough weed burned that day to make Jafar teach a class on Statistical Mechanics Radiation Mechanics Nuclear Physics to a group of very attentive bloodshot eyes who took notes in zombilish while half of them were on fire.
00000
Then there was the time he woke up hungover in bed with a pornstar zombie.
"AH!"
"GRAH!"
"AH!"
"GRAH!"
"AH…wait."
"Grah?"
"Was I good?"
"GRAH!"
"Now that's just rude."
00000
Or the time he regained enough awareness to realize he was at the alter with a zombie kangaroo in a wedding dress while a crackhead with a tinfoil hat and a rat on his shoulder officiated.
"Do you, sir hobo, take this delightfully undead woman as your other half until fire do you part?"
"I AM JAFAR."
The crackhead nodded kindly.
"And do you take this filthy hobo as your other half?"
"Grah?"
The crackhead nodded. All in a good days work.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Jafar ignored the weird screaming voice in the back of his head and lifted the veil, successfully puking all over his soon to be wife.
Thankfully, the divorce process with undead is much faster than the alternative.
00000
The bets just got more wild as they went along, but if there were any quests that were really memorable, it was three distinct ones, with the last one putting an end to the fun.
00000
Five Weeks Since Arrival.
Death by spam phone calls.
{"You sure this is going to work?"}
"If there is anything that ever made me want to commit murder in my mundane life, it was spam phone calls. Let's see how Mr. Zombie feels about it."
Wearing a super-secret fox onesie since his other clothes were dirty and walking barefoot in long since trained silence, Jafar snuck up behind a sound-sensitive zombie and quickly snapped on a headset to its ears, dodged its flailing arms, and nailed a tape recorder onto its back filled with eight hours of all the spam calls he could remember, and set to repeat.
As soon as he walked away, the zombie started reacting violently and attacked the air around it for close to ten minutes before going silent and standing still.
Jafar and Alfred waited in silence eating pop tarts.
{"Think it's dead?"}
"Nah, it's arm is still twitching. I think it's brain turned off."
{"How does a zombie turn off its brain?"}
"Self-preservation?"
{"They actively tear apart their bodies pushing their muscles to reach any food source."}
"Damage to the mind is more terrifying."
{"Speaking from experience?"}
Jafar's deadpan expression was legendary. "Do you really need me to answer that?"
{"….Right."}
Jafar nodded and bit into his pop-tart with a happy hum. Hot fudge Sunday was the best flavor.
They waited another ten minutes before growing bored and leaving. Only to come back the next day to find the zombie somehow having walked up to the roof of a building and jumped off head first.
The tape recorder was still playing when they found the body. "We are calling about your car's extended warranty…."
Some say the screams of that zombie still haunt those streets even many centuries later.
00000
7 weeks in.
Death by Superglue.
{"This was a terrible idea."}
"For once, I can't really disagree."
{"Which one of us decided on using superglue?"}
"I think we kinda just picked the first thing we saw at the last home depot and just went from there."
{"We're running out of funny shit to use."}
"Theres always that military base we could raid."
{"Meh, take a break from hot weapons. Zombies are easy now."}
"But think of the explosions."
{"You do that enough every time you try casting magic."}
"Fuck you, I'll make it work."
{"I'm not even going to deem that with a response. Oh look, they're moving."}
"You can't really call that moving can you?"
{"Well, they're trying."}
Before their eyes, one thousand zombies found themselves super-glued together.
It wasn't easy; they had to get enough super glue and then start sticking them together without killing them or getting killed.
Have you ever tried stacking cards into a tower? It was similar in difficulty.
But since none of them could think, coordinate, or move at more than a walking speed, it was just a horror ball of bodies all groaning and trying to move on their own stuck together.
There was the risk of them tearing off their skin by pulling apart, so they just covered more of their skin with white gooey glue and made sure they were stuck in there.
Not all of them ended up on their feet, and Jahar may have been inspired by a certain centipede film in a few cases.
"Think if we leave them like this, they might become one giant zombie or something when they evolve?"
{"Zombies aren't Pokemon Jahar."}
"That wasn't a no."
{"…I honestly don't know. I've never heard anyone do this before."}
"We could also get RPGs and have fun with dodge-rockets again."
{"No, no, you got me curious now. Leave them here."}
Jafar shrugged and walked away, leaving the mass of zombies stuck under industrial-grade superglue that wouldn't be affected by the weather.
00000
Three months in.
Death by WWE moves.
"This was a terrible idea!"
{"It's not my fault! The magazine made it look fun!"}
"WWE moves are not real! I told you so!"
{"My bad, alright?!}
Jafar grunted in pain and bit down on a piece of wood as he cut out the flesh around his bite wound with the Chitari spear he took from Loki.
"UUNNN!"
{"Come on man! Do it! Don't be a pussy!"}
"UN!"
{"I will not be stuck on a zombies finger Jafar! Dig it deep in there! Take it like a man!"}
"UUUNNNNNN!"
{"Listen man, you gotta remove that arm."}
"…."
{"Don't look at me like that. We have the potions to fix a missing limb, but zombie virus's spread fast, if you don't remove that arm in the next sixty seconds, its gonna enter your torso and your fucked."}
Jafar sweated heavily and looked between the spear and his mutilated left arm before nodding and biting down harder.
{"Don't try and saw, that's more painful, trust me, I know what I'm talking about."}
The incredibly sharp alien spear swung down, and Jafar bit straight through the piece of wood in his mouth.
The following week was not fun as they used a Skele-gro potion and a Full Restore potion to regrow his arm and took time off killing zombies to relax at their home pillar.
Absentmindedly playing fetch with Paul using a zombie's leg, Jafar waved around his new arm to get used to it. "I think it's time we stop fucking around."
Alfred was uncharacteristically silent before he grunted in agreement a minute after. {"Yeah, you should learn how to use that spear."}
Jafar removed the still blood-covered alien spear and waved it around. "Why a spear? Wouldn't a gun be better?"
{"I'm not saying you shouldn't improve your shooting skills, but the spear will help you a lot more in the future."}
Jafar raised a brow at that but shrugged. He didn't really care what he trained in. He was just done trying to kill zombies using only his body.
00000
After that last one, with the two in silent agreement to stop fucking around without an actual purpose, it was time Jafar actually started training.
That's not to say he wouldn't have fun, but he had to have fun while training something useful.
His grimoire was useless combat wise. His so called chaos magic had six spells to its name and none of them gave Jafar the satisfaction of casting magic that he wanted.
It was a trinket on his neck that would grow to hand sized if he removed it from the chain. And if he moved more than ten feet away from it, it would appear on his neck without fail.
Dark red in color with a demonic Hello Kitty symbol on the cover, it acted like a focus and a channel for his chaos magic but the spells it could cast were static and could only increase through life experiences that would coalesce his magic into spells that fit him.
At the moment, the book contained six spell, four he woke up with and two that were birthed through the months.
[Scan] [Music] [Communication] [?] [Clean] [Shrink]. The first three seemed to have come about from the absorbed smartwatch while the latter three came about from his experiences since then.
Scan scanned what he wished and printed the results on a page in a format he could understand.
Music took whatever he song he wanted from memory and could play it from the book itself or override any nearby speakers.
Communication allowed him to talk to anyone no matter the distance or dimensional wall. A feature from his watch evolving it seemed. As long as a recipient wrote their name in his book, they would always be able to contact him by voice or video.
[?] was worryingly empty. Its description only read as 'When logic fades, chaos reigns'. It was a passive spell and might explain a few things for how he woke up hungover in interesting situations.
Clean was born from his incredible desire to get cleaned after wearing that dirty robe at the start and being unable to shower in peace for over a week following. The spell cleaned him of blood, dirt, grime, and such on his body or worn clothing. No more hobo look for this guy. Although the spell wasn't perfect and it was also still a chaos spell, and chaos magic didn't like logic very much.
00000
"This is an odd sight."
{"I feel like the more I spend time with you, the more my common sense as a demon from hell goes out the window."}
"I really can't be held responsible for this."
{"I think we both know you can and should be."}
Jafar chose to retain his silence instead of refute the arguable claim as the two of them watched a zombie hoarding cleaning supplies.
{"You just had to test a chaos spell on a zombie didn't you."}
"I want a combat spell damn it. Is that so much to ask for?"
{"Yes!"}
"Oh look, it's doing its thing again."
{"I can't unsee this Jafar."}
The zombie, hereto named as Scrub, had been a normal zombie until a few hours earlier. Scrub was enjoying his undead life, shambling around and walking into walls. Chasing whatever human life it could find and feeling happy to bump into his favorite cashier zombie crush with her missing eye.
And then the one known as Jafar came and brought enlightenment on him. He was Clean.
But enlightenment became a curse. For he was clean, and the world was not. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't be dead with it.
A reckoning had to come, and he would wipe the filth from the world or die trying. Again. He was Scrub, the Priest of the path of Clean, and the world would feel his wrath.
Starting with this fence.
Jafar and Alfred couldn't tear their eyes away from the sight of a 6'4 muscled zombie in a dry cleaned dress shirt and pants shamble around a fence and make the damn thing shine.
"…."
{"…."}
"I'm keeping it."
{"No."}
"It's adorable."
{"It's not."}
"It's perfect."
{"I'll hate you."}
"So nothing changes."
{"I'll tell people you shotgun married an undead kangaroo."}
"You keep my dark past with Brinda out of this."
{"Don't test me."}
"I have recordings of you screaming like a girl discovering her first period."
{"….."}
"….."
{"You can keep the cleaning zombie."}
"Yay!"
And that's how Jafar's ring space acquired its own handler while Alfred did his best to delete his memory through blunt force trauma inside his own ring.
00000
Chaos spells were best used with caution.
The final one, [Shrink], was a wonderful spell made due to his strong desire to hoard everything and not have enough space. It shrunk whatever he wanted for storage down to a palm size but it took time and the target couldn't resist. He tried it on a basic weak zombie and it failed, so he gave up on his hope of utilizing it combat wise. Once he canceled the spell, the shrunk item returned to full size.
That was all it had. Very useful in their own rights, but nothing he could cast like an actual spell in combat. The rest of the pages were blank. It didn't seem like magic was going to be his main focus anytime soon, unfortunately.
The few months of nonstop bets and chaos got him used to handling his enhanced body, teaching him how to move silently, how to move acrobatically, be light on his feet, and led him to have very high close contact spatial awareness. He only had to lose an arm a couple times to focus on that final aspect heavily.
All of which helped tremendously when he started using his spear. It didn't make him an expert overnight, but he had a solid foundation to work with, and Alfred was surprisingly a decent teacher.
{"No you moron, a spear isn't a baseball bat; stop swinging it like one!"}
{"It's all in the thrust; get it in there and get it out. If your pull-out game is weak, your dead."}
{"Don't just use the tip! The shaft has its uses too. It's got a blade doesn't it?!"}
{"Commit to each penetration, don't hesitate to go balls deep but know when to keep the thrust light so you don't get stuck."}
A decent teacher, but not a great one.
In his spare time, he also took to trying to translate the two Latin journals he got using a Latin-to-English dictionary he found in a library.
So far, the pages he got through were either a recipe for soup or a rant at socks. Latin was highly confusing in translation.
And then came his two little buddies. Paul and Bob.
Frankly, Jafar wasn't the best role model for the parent of the year, but that didn't stop him from showering his buddies in love.
Paul was a young pup and stayed by his side for protection in case things went south, defended his home base, and went out exploring on day trips when he felt like it. Jafar would be happy to let him go play longer, considering he never had to worry about a zombie bite penetrating his shell, but Paul still needed to eat, so he couldn't go very far.
Jafar also had the strange feeling Paul had been having his own adventures since he came back wearing tinfoil hats more than once.
Bob, on the other hand was a special case. With all the TM's piled into him, he could survive by using [Absorb] and [Giga Drain] on plant life, giving him all the nutrients he needed for the day.
So, Bob was given a little mission.
00000
Flashback to week one.
"Excuse me?"
{"Did I stutter? Your weak as shit right now."}
"Ok? That's what a training montage is for, right?"
Alfred sighed and rubbed his forehead inside his ring. {"Look, meatbag, two to three years of self-training ain't gonna make you ready to fight a tier 4 lich. If you get lucky and it's just tier 3, it might be a close shave."}
"I still don't know what those tiers mean but ok, so what? I should just leave after a year?"
{"I'm not saying that. In fact, I would rather you spend more time here."}
"I'm confused. What do you want?"
Alfred growled in annoyance and pushed through his words. {"Damn it. Theres, something….demonic about these zombies."}
Jafar shrugged. "So I gotta fight demon zombies now? Sounds fun."
{"No you moron. I told you demons can't become zombies. These undead have a demonic taint to them, which can only mean there was a demon involved with summoning them."}
"But you said demons and undead hate each other?"
{"We do! If some low-level fucker got greedy and teamed up with a bag of bones, we gotta go fuck him up. It's like the bro code; there are just things you don't do as a demon."}
"And this ties into me; how?"
{"Well, for one. When the zombies evolve, they will no longer be held back by my weak aura, and they will come at you much more eagerly for having a demon's aura on you. I can't just turn it off. Demons kill each other to grow stronger as well, and you will be hated particularly by the undead.
So I want you to kill at least 25% of zombies on this planet. If you do that, I should be able to find where the entrance portal the lich is using is."}
Jafar paused mid-step and looked at his ring with deadpan eyes. "25%?"
{"Yes."}
"Do I use a fucking nuke or something?! Its gonna take a year to kill one million, in a single continent. What the fuck do you expect me to do?"
{"I don't know, don't you fucking protagonists wake up distant memories from a past life and unleash massive fuck off levels of power in short time spans? Use that."}
"Do I look like a magical girl to you?!"
{"You can be one if you try hard enough."}
"Great, I'm taking magical girl advice from a demon during a zombie apocalypse."
{"I'm just saying, we gotta go fuck someone up and you're not going to survive a tier 4 lich showing up, so it's in your interest."}
"I could just leave."
{"Ok, but do you know how to?"}
Jafar froze at that and groaned. Every time he dimensional traveled it was by accident, through boosted luck, turning into his Animagus form, and or an explosion. He did have those mineral vials from star wars, but without knowing how to actually turn into his Animagus form AND use its long-distance teleporting ability, he wasn't going anywhere.
"….you have a point."
{"See, now let's talk about how to cause mass destruction on a planetary scale."}
"Again, nukes."
{"Bad idea, you might hide the portal under shit tons of debris."}
"Ok, then how…."
The two went back and forth with stupid ideas while a pair of hollow black eyes stared from behind as its body hovered in the air without a single beat of its wings.
Bob the Shedinja was happy.
He was thrilled.
Never before had anyone looked at him with a smile or said anything nice about it.
He was just a useless cast-off, is what everyone told him. Pokemon and humans alike shunned him.
But then Jafar came. He smiled at him and gave him purpose. He chose Bob over everyone else and even gave him a name.
He filled him with precious knowledge on all kinds of moves without any hesitation.
So, Bob was happy. He wanted to be of use to his new trainer. He wanted to be the best Pokemon he could be.
And now he saw his chance.
He moved forward and tapped his trainer on the shoulder.
Jafar turned with a raised brow and a smile. "Hm? Whats up Bob? Need anything?"
Bob buzzed happily at the smile and stuck to Jafar's shoulder in a hug. He pointed a small yellow limb at the demon ring and glowed with shadowy energy. "Shed."
{"What's it trying to say?"}
Jafar didn't say anything; he just stared into his hollow eyes for a minute before nodding. "I see. Are you sure?"
"Shed."
{"Oi, how are you understanding him?"}
"It will take a long while, and I can't be by your side while you do it."
"Shed."
{"Don't ignore me meatbag!"}
"Is this what you really want? You don't owe me anything, we will be together for a long time."
"Shed."
{"Someone . is . going . to . die!"}
"Fine. I have a few conditions, but I'll do this the right way then."
"Shed."
{"TEELLL MEEE!"}
Jafar held Bob up high with both hands. "Sir Bob Killingsworth the third. I hereby give you your mission as your trainer. Go forth unto this world…. and cleanse it of the filthy undead that taint it's soil. Can I entrust this noble task on your shell?"
"Shed! Shedinja!"
{"Wait what."}
Jafar smiled proudly. "Good man. Now, let's get you outfitted for your journey."
"Shed!"
Jafar placed Bob on his head, where the little guy clung in a happy hug as the two walked off to find what Jafar wanted to give him.
{"Are we seriously giving the bug this job?!"}
The next day, Bob waved goodbye to his trainer with tears welling up in both their eyes. He turned away so his trainer wouldn't see them fall.
He would make his trainer proud. He would be the strongest Shedinja to ever exist!
He floated forward with pride in his special garments. The minion onesie, top hat, and monocle adorning his face were special tools of justice.
And as he floated away into the rising sun at about 2 mph, he knew in his little hollow shell. This was the start of his path to greatness.
For his trainer, for his pride, Bob would rise, and be the very best, like no one ever was.
00000
In the year to come, Jafar didn't see Bob again in person. He gave Bob a series of instructions to use just in case and made sure the little guy would stick to them.
The Pokemon move [Return] would return Bob from wherever he was to his Pokeball on Jafar's belt. So if Bob ever had his Wonder Guard broken, and his [Protect] and [Endure] were used up, he was to immediately abandon wherever he was and return.
He was also given a cell phone that his grimoire somehow made connect to it using the [Communication] spell.
The phone was turned off to save battery, but Jafar made sure Bob knew which buttons to press to turn it on and speed dial call Jafar if it was needed.
And one day, he did actually get a call exactly six months after Bob left.
While casually spearing zombies, his watch's old Nyan Cat ringtone rang out from his grimoire and scared the living crap out of him for a moment before he recalled why it would do that.
The book flew open to a random page and hovered before him without him having to hold it as the page became a digital screen and he saw a Japanese teen on the other side with Bob waving in the background.
"Um…hello? This is Takashi Komuro, are there more survivors out there?"
Jafar's smile stretched wide.
Chapter end.