Based on a true story.

If there was one word to describe any desert anywhere in the world, most people would pick the word "hot". And so would Aloric. Because today, the Anfauglir Desert was just that. His leather armor was starting to stick to his skin from the sweat that was producing itself, making for a very uncomfortable traveling journey. The sand beneath him seemed to go on for miles and miles, no end in sight, his destination blurred. He turned around to note his progress. There it was, the edge of the grasslands, less than a mile away. He thought he had covered more ground than that by now. How long had he been gone?

He sat down to take a breather, exhausted by the mile trek. He felt something bulging in his pocket, so he reached down in there and took out a small vial. He knew exactly what it was, and what it did. It was the Potion of Ferocity, the one he had placed a bid on in an auction earlier that week. He had no use for it, but the vial looked pretty cool, so he had won. Aloric doesn't even like auctions.

He had thought about asking for a refund, but for some odd reason he had decided to keep it around and take it out every once in a while, examining the beauty of the potion inside the small capsule. That got him to thinking, which is never good.

I never ever get into unnecessary fights, he thought to himself. In fact, if a fight presents itself, I usually just run away. Maybe it's time for a change. Everyone who was anyone knew what the Potion of Ferocity did, but it seemed Aloric was a little shaky about the details. For instance, even he knew the potion would make him ferocious for ten or so minutes, attacking anything on sight. However, what everybody else knew was that if nothing was in sight, the person who drank the liquid would attack his or herself. This Aloric was unaware of. He popped the cap of the vial, took in the scent of it, then tilted his head up and poured a single drop onto his tongue.

As he started to scratch himself roughly, the potion taking its effects on the sad and pathetic Aloric as he was obviously the only one silly enough to wander into the desert, his luck started to change. What was that walking towards him now?

Albeiro trudged across the sand, hot and miserable. He was beginning to regret ever taking that job for the inkeeper. Then again, he had no money with him. How hard could it be to get a gallon of camel's milk and a cup of sugar, anyway? And so he was sent on this errand, which brings us back to the present situation, in which he stumbled over the next dune to see a person he hoped that he would never see again.

Of course, he didn't recognize him through all the waves in the air. That's why he walked forward rather than sprinted backward (the heavy backpack full of alcohol and water and whatnot would have prevented him from doing so anyway). When he got close enough to see who it was, though, it was too late. Aloric had finally stopped paying attention to his scratching what was apparently a very bad itch. Albeiro had been noticed, and something bad was definitely about to happen.

Attack! The only thing on Aloric's mind was completely destroying anything that walked into his path, and even though Albeiro hadn't exactly walked right up to him, Aloric had seen enough of him to send him into a bloodlust.

Secretly, though, this event had been a long time coming. Aloric and Albeiro hadn't exactly been friends while they had been in the rainforest. It had just taken a little potion to get the ball rolling.

Aloric got up off his feet and dashed towards the poor little man with the heavy backpack on. For some reason, Aloric felt like the man needed to die, and quickly. His legs barely able to keep up with his momentum, he raced closer and closer until Albeiro was right in front of him. He bent his head down low and put his left arm out stiffly like he had seen all of Arda's football players - such as Mar Shallfalk - do so many times in a clutch play. His stiff arm pummeled right into Albeiro's chest.

A fundamental law of nature exists that declares that when a car crash among clowns occurs, a stray hubcap will always wind up rolling along the road. It can only be explained, then, that the fact that Albeiro was thrust straight out of his socks is governed by a similar law. After all, these are the two biggest clowns in all of Arda. And so a sockless Albeiro was driven to the ground by an enraged Aloric. A number of thoughts coursed along inside Albeiro's puny little mind as Aloric began attacking.

Well if it isn't Aloric. I was hoping I'd never see him again. And what's that he's doing? It looks like... if I'm not mistaken, I think that it's a crude imitation of Mar Shallfalk's bone-crushing ta- AURRRRRRRRGH!!!! Pain. Pain. Pain. Lots of pain. He certainly got the bone-crushing part right. And so on.

And so, after Albeiro started taking stock of his situation, he reached this conclusion: Aloric doesn't seem very happy to see me. Much like a generic townsperson in the great big video game of life, he was absolutely clueless. And a bit dense. Then again, several blows to the head can do that to you. He scrambled away from the rampaging mild-mannered man, dropping the backpack as he ran. He was thankful that the bottles in his backpack had been charmed with a no-breaking spell that wouldn't run out for a few hours. He didn't think those exact thoughts, though. It was more along the lines of Now that I'm rid of that weight, maybe I'll get through this alive. Is this karma for taking that tip in the ruins restroom? Oh, what I wouldn't give for a good old-fashioned smiting. No time for that, though. I've got to keep running away.

Aloric watched Albeiro's socks go flying with glee. The little man was now sockless and currently clueless, though the same could be said for Aloric. No I mean, Aloric was clueless. He still had his socks. In fact, he didn't know what he'd do if he ever lost his socks. They were his best friends, he even named them. He hoped he'd never have to wash Ben and Jerry...

Anyway... for some reason, Albeiro kept running from Aloric, making the whole killing thing a little more difficult. Not to be outdone in the running category, Aloric accelerated to match and overcome Albeiro's speed, despite the man losing his heavy backpack. Aloric's instincts told him he needed to snap the little guy's neck right then and now and get the job over with, but the reckless Aloric was feeling extra devlish under the influence of the potion. Instead of going for the kill immediately, he toyed around with Albeiro, letting him know just how helpless he was. He'd be crushed and maimed in good timing. As both were running through the desert sands, Aloric slapped him.

He overcame the passion of the potion for a slight second, and some thoughts came into his mind so that he was able to form words. It was a small window of opportunity so he had to say the most profound thing he could in the shortest amount of time. Taking this into consideration, Aloric said, "I'm gonna kill you!"

Albeiro was taken aback at the slap and the harsh words that Aloric shouted to him. "Can't we work this out like civilised people?" A continued chase by Aloric was his only answer. Albeiro knew that he couldn't keep running forever. There was only one thing that he could do, and he needed to do it quickly.

Gradually, his running led him closer and closer to the bag until he finally got the chance to dive next to it, just ahead of Aloric. He reached in and grabbed the first thing he saw: a bottle of a-whole-lot proof whiskey. He looked at it as he ran for his life, trying to think of something to do with it. It would serve as a good bludgeon, or maybe... just maybe....

Albeiro uncorked it and began chugging it like mad. He'd never had alcohol before, and he didn't know what to expect. It had an awful flavor and it burned like mad, but then something happened. The world became looser, more disconnected. He wondered why he was on the ground all of the sudden, and he decided to pull himself back up. He turned to face two or three Alorics, confident as one can be when one is completely inebriated. Unbeknownst to anyone prior to this, Albeiro was actually a better fighter when he was drunk than when he was sober. Perhaps this is because he is a coward. Perhaps this is because he is more daring when he's drunk. I, for one, believe that it's because he let his subconscious do his fighting while his consciousness focused on not vomiting.

And so two cowards, one drunk out of his skull and the other one temporarily nuts, began to face each other.

For people who like keeping track of the time elapsed thus far, it had only been three and a half minutes since Aloric had taken a drop of the potion when Albeiro started chugging down a bottle of booze. Now they were both under the influence, fighting like mad. Aloric had not expected the funny looking man to put up such a fight as he did. The drunk looked slightly familiar - though Aloric's vision was completely dazed and he was relying on his instincts to carry him forward - but he couldn't make out just who it was. It didn't really matter I suppose, but if he had known it was Albeiro perhaps he would have tried harder to kill him.

Aloric was spared another small amount of time where sanity came back to him to allow words to form, as he and Albeiro faced off. He used this to his advantage and tried to make the situation as dramatic as possible. "No amount of liquor drinking will save you from my wrath. I am rage incarnate, the deadliest of all deadly terrible horrible -" That's when sanity left him. His mouth moved, but no words came out. He flailed his limbs up in the air and shut his eyes as the corners of his mouth tried to open. Then, pumping his legs, he ran towards Albeiro and proceded to open his mouth and show his pearly whites. He intended to bite Albeiro to death.

Those dreadful teeth inched closer and closer to Albeiro, who would have been amazed at how pearly and white Aloric's pearly whites were if he weren't currently trying to remember which way the ground was supposed to go. A thought went through Albeiro's mind, wondering how whiskey could produce these effects on a first-time drinker. Albeiro paid no attention to the thought, since he was more concerned with keeping his feet from stepping in the sky.

Aloric was getting closer and closer, determined to nibble our pathetic little hero's ears off, and there was only one thing that Albeiro could think of. He swung the whiskey bottle around, aiming for Aloric's head. Unfortunately, his inebriated state caused him to miss and hit his own ankle instead. He fell to the ground and crashed into Aloric's feet, sending them into a twisted pile. Four and a half minutes to go.

It was a shame that Albeiro was in such a state of intoxication that he missed his intended target and instead sent both of them crumbling to the ground, because Aloric would have much rather liked to have been smacked across the face by a bottle that doesn't break than be rolling around in sand. His leather armor was getting dirty. And to boot, the sand was hot as the sun itself, though this Aloric could not be bothered to notice in his frenzied rage. If Aloric's mind was working at full capacity - or any capacity, for that matter - he'd probably be beating himself up about drinking the Potion of Ferocity in the first place. It was simply not in his nature to do such things. He'd try to bum off the rest of the bottle back at the market square where he had made the original purchase. What a waste of money.

As they twisted around in a tangled knot on the desert sand, Aloric made a few hissing noises to scare his prey into submission. It probably wouldn't work, but it was worth a shot. Scared prey is always better than courageous prey. Aloric would have known that there was no courage to be found in his prey if he had known who it was. He stopped hissing only to wrap his mouth around Albeiro's ailing ankle and bite hard. Man, that felt good.

Albeiro flailed around on the sandy ground, trying desperately to dislodge the maniac's (Aloric's) teeth from his ankle. Albeiro was dead drunk at the moment, and he didn't want Aloric putting a comma into that. He looked at his bottle and the man's head and figured that he'd might as well give it another shot. He raised it and is came sailing down, right into the sand. Strike one. He raised his hand again and aimed. It was pretty hard, seeing as he had to choose from four targets. He finally gave up and hit one at random. Strike two. It was then that through his inebriated brain, Albeiro came up with an idea. He decided to strike at his own ankle, as that would be the logical place for Aloric's head would be. It didn't strike him until he had already swung that it would also be the logical place for his ankle to be.

Sadly, the potion was now starting to work against Aloric (as if that hadn't been the case in the first place). As soon as he had latched on to Albeiro's ankle, he simply could not let go, and this was his downfall. The woozy man had decided, against all odds, to aim for the one place Aloric was sure to be, and the glass bottle came crashing down onto his skull. Immediately his teeth lost their grip on the ankle as his hands came up to his ears to stop the infernal ringing that was taking place inside the cramped area known as his brain. The bottle had left quite a mark on Aloric's ability to hear straight. That plus taking into account his already heavily impaired vision left him rather out of senses to use as he searched for his target. Hands still on ears, eyes still closed, mouth still open dumbly, Aloric stuck out his tongue.

I know, I know, some of you are thinking it would have been much easier if he used his sense of touch rather than his sense of taste to locate Albeiro. This is quite true. However, when the instincts of a slightly demented being kick in, you can't expect them to work at the same capacity as a normal being. And so, Aloric fell to the ground and licked his way towards Albeiro, knowing that once he tasted skin he'd be close enough to attack.

It's a darned good thing that the potion was only going to last for another three minutes.

Albeiro shouted as pain reached through the fog of drunkenness. He reached down, pulled a tooth out of his ankle, and got up shakily. He looked around, trying to find Aloric. Finally, he looked down, and what he saw was just scary. It was Aloric licking the sand a couple inches from his feet, crawling on the ground on his elbows and knees. He kicked Aloric, knocking himself off balance and into the sand once again. Albeiro flailed about on the ground, kicking and waving the bottle around, trying to fend Aloric off, wherever he was. This might have been more effective if he hadn't landed on Aloric in the first place.

As for the tooth, Albeiro had pocketed it as he was getting up. Now, it's a well-known fact that magic can control people as long as it has something to be based on. The optimal instrument for that magic is, of course, a tooth. This is why the tooth fairy collects teeth. He or she (or it) is trying to protect the children. Or control them. But that's entirely irrelevant. The point is that Albeiro had put into his pocket a prime instrument of magical control. Or a very small bludgeon. It all depends on how you look at things.

There was suddenly a heavy weight put onto Aloric's back as he was slithering around in the sand. His tongue was getting pretty dry and was starting to lose its licking potency. Trying to get the weight off his back was a bigger problem though. He tried rolling around, flopping around on the sand, raising his upper body and trying to send the weight rolling backwards, but nothing worked, as the weight was too heavy. Albeiro needed to lose some weight.

So Aloric stayed pinned on the ground for some time, a drunken Albeiro somehow managing to sit atop him, wasting time. Wasting about one minute and a half, to be exact.

Aloric was spared another moment of sanity. "I don't know how you got on my back, but you're not gonna be up there for long! Why I oughta flax Aborigine combustible snow shoe periwinkle-" That's about when he lost it. His mind was irritated. It wanted to kill, oh how it wanted to kill, but it was currently pinned to the sand by a man under the influence. A rather heavy man. Or maybe Aloric's muscles just really need some work.

One minute left and counting. Albeiro heard a shout from beneath him, but he was too out of it to understand just what it was saying. He finally knew where Aloric was, though. He got on his hands and feet and tried to get up. All he could do was roll on his back. Fifty seconds left. "You're goin' down, you, you... wossname? You- You twerp!" The word twerp certainly didn't apply to Aloric. It showed just how Albeiro felt and just how drunk he was. And so he stumbled to his feet with forty seconds on the clock. He raised the bottle into the air, only to collapse under its weight. It rolled away for him as he tried to get up. He crawled forward and reached it. Thirty seconds to go. He staggered to his feet, holding the bottle in both hands. He was getting more and more drunk by the second; soon he wouldn't be able to stand at all. A clearer-headed Albeiro might have regretted drinking "Magic Whiskey," but this one was just trying to attack Aloric. He held the bottle above him, trying not to fall again. This time, he was able to hold it. He grinned and slurred a 'fearsome' phrase. "Well, this ish the end for you, el capitano! Now I make the rulesh!" Fifteen seconds were left, and then the bottle slipped from Albeiro's hands and onto his head. He fell to the ground, finally unconscious, as the bottle rolled away.

The licking tactics were not getting Aloric any closer to his goal, especially if his goal was on top of him. This is why he was glad when Albeiro finally decided to roll off of his back. Aloric's hands were still on his ears so it was very difficult to prop himself up so that he could stand. He lifted his knees but his elbows weren't pulling their weight, sort of weakly sinking down into the sand. His instincts told him there wasn't much time left on this spell he had put on himself, so he turned over so that he was on his back and in a last ditch effort, kicked his legs up into the air. When they came back down onto the sand, he put all his weight onto them, and moved the rest of his body upward. But his balance was all off, and he swooned there for a second trying to regain his ability to stand straight. He staggered backward, staggered frontward, staggered to the left and right, and then he fell. His aerobics had not paid off, and time was wasting.

As the time ticked away, Aloric's sanity slowly came back, but only in small doses so he could handle reality. "I can fly!" he exclaimed. Apparently not enough sanity had reached him yet. However, it is a good thing that the phrase "I can fly" can still be understood while the tongue is outside of the mouth, because Aloric was still in licking mode. His eyes opened and took in all the sunlight. His hands moved away from his ears. "Monstars im my bedoom." Yep, his tongue was still out. His tucked that back in. As reality hit him - slowly - he turned over to see a bottle rolling in the sands, and an unconscious body near it. Who was that?

Magical whiskey is made in the second most hidden valley in the Ered Annon Mountains. Its maker, Thaddeus Aardman of the Aardman Brewing Company, claims that it will get you drunk in ten seconds, unconscious in six minutes, and hung over fifteen seconds after that. Sure enough, Albeiro had the worst headache of his life. He opened his eyes, closed them again, and opened them once more. The world was a blur. He rolled over and pushed himself up. After a shaky start, his knees decided to hold him up. He turned around and saw Aloric, and only four words could be heard. "Oh, my aching head!" With that, he threw a punch at Aloric, missed, and slumped into him. "Good night moon." The thing that makes magical whiskey even more magical is that it takes a few minutes into the hangover to become fully sober. Magical whiskey is magical, but everyone forgets to ask what that magic is. Then again, with Albeiro already in the hangover stage, it doesn't really matter, does it?

Aloric's return to sanity was not the pleasant one that he had been hoping for. First, he was somewhere in the desert, and the heat was starting to get on the annoying side. Second, he had a massive headache, as if he had been struch in the head by a magical glass bottle that doesn't break. Third, there was some drunken idiot snuggling up to him. He couldn't make out just who it was, but did it matter? Drunks are so immature, they think they can just pass out wherever they want to. "Good night moon," was all Aloric heard. In an extremely familiar voice. The kind of familiar that you wish wasn't as familiar as it really is.

Aloric's eyes widened as the return to sanity became an increasingly worse experience. His pupils shifted from left to right in a panic as he dragged his head up and peered over to look at the drunk to confirm his worst fear. He saw the most familiar clothes, the one that this person always wore on every occasion. Aloric's jaw dropped.

"ALBEIRO!!! What in Arda are you doing here!?!" Now everything made sense. Albeiro must have caused everything that had happened so far today. It explained why Aloric was in pain, why he was in the middle of some desert, and why his luck had turned suddenly ill. It was Albeiro's fault. It had to be. Aloric felt like he could go for some of Thaddeus Aardman's magical whiskey right about now. He loved how it could get you woozy in under ten seconds.

"Aloric. Augggh... Don't eat me, Aloric. I'm much too tough." With that, Albeiro's slump became a slide as he sluggishly slid to the sand in a heap. His sobriety seemed to have taken his sanity with it. Or else Albeiro hadn't woken up yet. He recognized Aloric, which was a good sign. His eyes suddenly changed from their half-closed position to a fully open one as he scrambled back. His sobriety was back. "Aloric! Don't kill me, Aloric!" He blinked. Aloric seemed somewhat irritated (how very observant), but not nearly as kill-happy as before. "Just what happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me." After all, it had been Albeiro that had randomly appeared, not Aloric. Aloric couldn't just randomly appear in some place he was already at, that was preposterous. Albeiro could though. He was good at doing silly things like that.

Aloric was reminded of the time that he was visited by wallabies that had visted his bedside and taken him for a wild ride around town. They had randomly appeared, and one of them could talk. Aloric thought he remembered the wallaby's name being Captain. Anyway, then he remembered that was just a dream he had had, the night before. Wallabies can't appear just out of nowhere either. Albeiro had to be the only sentient being capable of doing that.

"Captain Wallaby!" He really wished the wallabies had been real. That would have been swell.

"Captain Wallaby! "No, my name's Albeiro. Remember? As for how I got here, I was just walking through the desert when you attacked me!"

Needless to say, Albeiro was a little irritated as well. He'd been in a bad mood ever since he had woken up in the morning and found that all of his money had been stolen. Now, he was stuck with a pair of chores that would never get completed. That is, as long as Aloric was around. His bad luck seemed to amplify Albeiro's own unlucky aura a thousand fold. Albeiro walked over to his backpack, no longer shackled by his former inebriated state, and he put it back on. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like for you to show me exactly where the desert city of Stickenbucketdance is. I've got to get a cup of sugar from there."

"Why would I attack you? I mean, I don't like you, and you bring me bad luck, and you're a constant annoyance, but, why would I do such a-" he felt something small and hard in his pocket suddenly, and he pulled a small vial out. "Oh yeah," he whispered, hoping Albeiro would not hear. He didn't want the poor little man to know the truth, after all.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like for you to show me exactly where the desert city of Stickenbucketdance is. I've got to get a cup of sugar from there."

Aloric was befuddled and pondered the question a bit. "Stickenbucketdance? That's a little ways north of here, I think. But you can't get sugar there I don't believe. They sell ketchup though. Lots and lots of ketchup." Aloric remembered his first journey to the city, when he had requested tomato soup and they had brought him slightly warm ketchup in a bowl. "Anyway... is that why you're out here in the desert? To find sugar? You couldn't just go to Lomedor?"

He knew Albeiro was dim, but he didn't think he was that dim. And why Aloric he being nice to him anyways? Albeiro had cleverly changed the subject by bringing up his quest for sugar, and it had distracted Aloric from being angry with him. "Is that all you've been up to since you got out of the rainforest?"

"Stickenbucketdance? That's a little ways north of here, I think. But you can't get sugar there I don't believe. They sell ketchup though. Lots and lots of ketchup. Anyway... is that why you're out here in the desert? To find sugar? You couldn't just go to Lomedor?" "Well, I also have to get a gallon of camel's milk. That's why I couldn't go to Lomedor. But if they don't have sugar there..." Albeiro turned and pointed straight at Aloric's face. "That's it! You've attacked me, and now you've got to repay it to me. Take me to Stickenbucketdance and help me find a gallon of camel's milk and a cup of sugar, or else your conscience will bother you about it for years to come." Albeiro knew that this was stupid. Aloric had already met Albeiro once before, and the bad luck was awful then. Still, it couldn't hurt to try.

Aloric put his hands on his hips. "That is by far the lamest idea for a quest I have ever heard. Accompany you on a trip for groceries?" He did feel bad about attacking Albeiro, but the guy had it coming. However, he really couldn't say no in this case, he did need to repay him. "As stupid and uneventful as that sounds, I'll go with you and help you find the city."

He pointed in the general direction of Stickenbucketdance, then turned back towards Albeiro. "I hope you haven't forgotten tradition. You are always the first one to take off. I'll follow you."

It was the blind leading the blind, so to speak, for Aloric knew Stickenbucketdance probably wasn't in the direction he had pointed.

Albeiro was a bit shocked that Aloric gave in so easily, but he shrugged it off. It was helpful, even if it did mean inviting more bad luck into his life. "Well then," he said, "we'd might as well be off, then. To Stickenbucketdance!"

The desert sands felt warm under Albeiro's feet. This was to be expected, but it's necessary to state the obvious in descriptive writing. Warm, dry winds whipped his red and white robe. It was getting uncomfortable. He would have taken it off if he had been wearing anything underneath it. As it was, he was just hot. After walking a while, he decided that he had to sit down and drink something. He reached into his pack and pulled out a pair of canteens. Albeiro made a mental note to himself to buy one of his own sometime. For now, though, he drank the water-filled canteen and handed the other one to Aloric.

The canteen was a welcome gift, but Aloric didn't like being in debt to Albeiro any more than he had do be. "Thanks, but no thanks." True to character, Aloric would suffer stupidly instead of taking some much needed help.

What he was really curious about was how he managed to bump into Albeiro yet again. As if their previous adventure had not been long enough or psychotic enough, they had managed to find each other in the desert. Apparently, Albeiro was on some sort of strange mission to gain consumable products, while Aloric had reasons of his own for being out here in the middle of nowhere. "Albeiro, I'm trying to figure out why Fate hates us so much." He watched longingly as Albeiro guzzled down some water, wishing he had had the forethought to bring his own canteen.

Albeiro turned to Aloric. "Fate may not like us, but you're just making it worse for yourself by not drinking." He put the other canteen away and thought for a little bit. "It makes me wonder if Fate has some sort of list of people who he picks out. It's probably not personal." He drew the canteen to his mouth and took a long, refreshing drink of water. He capped the canteen and put it away, wiping his lips afterward. "If you're sure you don't want a drink, then we'd might as well set out."

Aloric got up and let Albeiro lead the way. Being his ever curious self, he decided to further interrogate the man. "Why exactly are you on a hunt for sugar and camel milk anyway? Or is that some cheap ploy for you to get in on the great breakdancing that they have over at Stickenbucketdance?" Everyone who was anyone knew that the desert city had the world's most renowned breakdancing competitions, and the winner usually earned a nice sum of gold. And a year's supply of green goat cheese. Yeah, the green goat cheese was especially delicious, even better than the ketchup. He could taste it right now, the way it brought out so many different flavors, it's creamy delicateness, the way it stuck to the roof of the mouth and left you with countless hours of enjoyment trying to get it off. He licked his lips longingly, then he snapped back into reality and hoped Albeiro hadn't seen him. If you won the annual breakdancing contest, you also got a free ticket to the theme park in town. It was the single item most coveted by Aloric, and it really made him wish he knew how to breakdance. But we're getting off topic.

"Breakdancing? I thought they only knew how to do the Morris. Ah well, maybe I'll try some while I'm there. I must admit, I've never been good at it." Albeiro thought for a moment and realized that he hadn't answered Aloric's previous question. "And as for the sugar and camel milk, I need to pay off an inkeeper. In hindsight, I guess I shouldn't have stayed at Thieves' Hollow for the night. It's too late now, though." Albeiro walked and walked. He was starting to get thirsty again, but he knew that he had to ration his food and water. Finally, he started to pray. Please! I need a sign, or else I might not make it any further! It was then that he spotted the wooden sign in front of him. "Hertze Rent-A-Camel?"

And indeed it was Hertze Rent-A-Camel, the finest camel dealership in the immediate vicinity. The building was stone, but the doors were made of ice. Some people might view this to be the sign of a great magician living there. In the eyes of the more literal-minded, such as Albeiro, it was just a sign of a fool (though probably a magician nonetheless). And, when you're dealing with rentals, sometimes a fool is just what you need.

Hertze Rent-A-Camel? That sounded absurd. That place was supposed to be shut down due to some "questionable business". Aloric had read the article about it in the Town Crier, stating that the place would be padlocked and shut down. Apparently, they hadn't known that a wizard was in charge of the place, because the doors of the establishment were solid ice.

Before the two adventurers stepped into the building, Aloric tapped Albeiro on the shoulder. "Are you sure this isn't just a mirage? I thought this place had gotten the axe."

And besides, if the owner of this place could make ice doors possible in the middle of the Anfauglir Desert, he's probably quite capable of turning our two heroes into toads or something. Or, at the very least, scamming them. Or maybe that part's worse. Aloric would rather be a toad than pennyless.

"Are you sure this isn't just a mirage? I thought this place had gotten the axe."

"There's only one way to find out." With that, Albeiro pulled the doors open and stepped inside. There wasn't much there, though. Just a small desk with a bell on top of it and a small water-dispensing gadget in the corner of the room. Albeiro looked around, noting the watermelon-themed wallpaper all around the room. If the questionable business practices hadn't shut this place down, then the interior design certainly would have. Albeiro walked to the middle of the room and read a card on the desk. "Clearance Sale! Ring bell for assistance."

DING!

Just as Albeiro had rang the bell, a small elderly man with a hump for a back appeared from a corner of the building, walking with a cane. He was fumbling with his spectacles, trying to get the nose bridge to fit correctly, when he said, "Greetings, young troopers. I am glad to see you have stumbled upon my humble establishment. Is there anything in particular that I can assist you with?"

Aloric assumed his best as-a-matter-of-fact pose. "If you wouldn't mind explaining how this place managed to get around the chopping block it was supposed to be on, I would very much appreciate it."

The old man's eye's narrowed, honing in on Aloric. "How is a place like this supposed to get the axe if the axe is stolen?" It was clear that Aloric wasn't following the man's logic, so he explained visually, by producing out of the inners of his jacket a rather large and hefty battle axe. "Ya see, I just took it!"

Aloric turned to Albeiro. "Well, he answered my question. He's all yours now."

Everyone knows that businesses can't get the axe with a real axe. Most people, anyways. Albeiro wondered if a relative of Sirloin Nickelspoon was in charge of justice here as well. He decided to pursue that point later, as there were more important things to take care of now. "So, you're in the camel rental business?" "Yes indeed. Hertze is my name and deals are my game! Would you like to see my merchandise?" "Certainly. Let me get my camels out here." The man disappeared in a flash of chartreuse smoke and appeared again with four camels. "And here they are! Let's begin."

"Well, first we have Little Marta. At eight feet tall, she's perfect for your adventurous types. She's a difficulty even to mount. She's a very popular rental, though, for shade alone. Second, we have Belladonna. She's small, but she's tough. I've seen her take down bandits from a hundred feet away just by spitting on them. If you don't mind the fact that she'll probably try to maul you sometime along the journey, she's a perfect buy! And, of course, we have our special two for the price of one deal with Ignatius and J'Reilley. They may look like a pair of flea-bitten old geezers who may pass away at any given second, but, well, they're half price! So how about it?"

Not really sure why they needed a camel in the first place, Aloric couldn't offer much advice to Albeiro about which camel to buy. However, he did decide that if they needed to do any traveling, it would be nice to rent two camels instead of one.

"We're not in Stickenbucketdance yet, as far as I can tell. We have quite a bit of trekking to do. Maybe we should get the two camels for the price of one? I've always wanted a pet named Ignatius." Aloric was as much of a pocket pincher as the next guy, and he wanted to save a pretty penny by taking the old man up on the sweet deal. Of course, it wasn't exactly a steal, considering the shape the two camels were in. He eyed J'Reilley over. The beast looked lazy as ever, slowly munching on a carrot. Do camels eat carrots? I don't know. Blame the magician.

"Well then, it looks like a deal. We'll take Ignatius and J'Reilley, then. Hey, what's that?" Albeiro pointed over the old man's shoulder. Albeiro quickly got behind the two camels and pushed hard, hoping to get them out the door before the man turned back around. Unfortunately, the camels refused to budge. "Hey, what are you doing?!" "Who, me? I'm just- er- inspecting the merchandise. Nothing suspicious here. Nope." "Oh. Okay. That'll be 200,000 gold. Or your firstborn child. Or your eternal soul."

200,000 gold? Aloric thought that the firstborn child option was actually the better, but unfortunately he didn't have any children to sell off. "Can you take a raincheck on the firstborn?"

Aloric turned to Albeiro, quite saddened that the poor little man's attempt to steal the camels hadn't worked. "I, uh... I don't have 200,000 gold. Or even 100,000. Do you?" In all seriousness, Aloric actually didn't have the money, regardless of his being a cheapskate and all. He only had about a small sum of gold jingling around in his pocket. He suddenly realized he needed to find a better method of carrying his money around. His pockets had holes in them.

Anyways, it didn't seem like Aloric and Albeiro would be getting the camels today, unless Albeiro was insanely rich beyond all reason, or the old man gave them another option to meet the fee. And Albeiro couldn't possibly have the money, because, well... I mean, it's Albeiro.

"Nope. Hmm... How about 200 pounds of alcoholic beverages?" "Sold! I'm gonna party tonight! Woohoo!" Albeiro unloaded 200 pounds of alcoholic beverages out of his "borrowed" feather-weight brand enchanted bag (Did I forget to mention that? Of course I didn't. I was just... um... go away.) and then signed the contract. "Well, that was pretty easy. Here I thought he was going to send us on some ridiculous quest to pay off the camel rentals." "That's a great idea! How about you get my laundry washed?" "Me and my big mouth."

"Hey, you can't make us do your laundry, we already agreed on the contract!" Aloric pointed his finger at the contract Albeiro had signed and stuck out his tongue. In retaliation, the man simply revealed the axe he had hidden in his garments, giving Aloric a menacing look. "Actually, we should probably do the laundry."

"Great!" the wizard exclaimed, and he revealed a hamper behind some curtains. "The hamper may not look like much, but it can hold more than seems possible." Aloric picked up the hamper with relative ease. He placed it on his right shoulder and put his left hand in front to steady it.

"Um... where would we be able to get this stuff cleaned?" Aloric whispered to Albeiro. He didn't know of any laundromats that were nearby.

"We'll just find some oasis or something and dunk them in the water. He didn't say how well he wanted them washed." The axe came out again. "Or we could go to Stickenbucketdance and find a laundromat." "Stickenbucketdance? Why, you're leagues away. You need insurance, just in case things get messy. I've got two policies here that will only cost you an arm and a leg of your choice! How about it?" "I'm very attatched to all of my limbs, thank you very much." "I know, but I can change that." He took the axe out once more. "No thank you, please!" "Well, if you really don't want to-" "You bet I don't!" "Then I suppose that you both had best be on your way." "I couldn't agree more."

Aloric was about to offer Albeiro's limbs for the insurance when he had protested. It was a shame, Aloric really wanted the insurance. The good news was they now had camels that would make the trip to Stickenbucketdance a little faster. The bad news was Aloric wasn't so sure they would be able to find any oases soon, and he really needed some water. He was parched.

"Before we go on our way to Stickenbucketdance, do you happen to have any water?"

"Well, if you take those doors over there and put them in direct sunlight, they'd probably melt for you."

Aloric was confused. "You'd just let us walk away with your doors without paying for them?"

"Of course not. I'd kill you if you took my doors."

Aloric sighed. It seemed as if he still wouldn't be getting any water, unless he asked for some of Albeiro's, which wasn't happening.

"By the way, mister, would you mind if I asked you what your name was?"

"Nope, I don't mind."

"OK, uh... what's your name?"

"They call me Ulysses Anchovie!" Then the old man vanished in a puff of smoke.

"That was weird. Well, can we take those doors now?"

"But he said he'd... Ah well. Okay, let's take them. It's not like we're going to run into any other water any time soon." Albeiro helped Aloric remove the doors from their hinges, which took about three minutes (give or take a minute). Now, it is a well-known fact that ice slips out of hands and sticks to tongues. This makes it very unfortunate for those who drop their ice while licking it. It wasn't a problem here, though, except for the slipping part. When you set a door down, you expect to be able to lift it back up again. Unfortunately, Common Sense seemed to be on her lunch break, as Albeiro just couldn't get his fingers to hold. He thought and he thought until his thinker was sore. Finally, he just gave up and placed his sword under it as a lever and lifted it. Albeiro lugged the door out into the sun, glad to finally be through with the business. Unfortunately, he then realized that he had nothing to store the water in.