Even though everyone was just robbed of all their possessions they still appeared to be very happy. The distant sounds of battle and some pained screams could have been related to their mood, but one should not look too deeply into such things.
It was certainly just a mere coincidence that a few people had walked through the door carrying some shovels and 2 gravestones. Who knew, maybe some people just died suddenly?
Tragedies could happen at any time out there, especially if one liked to live very dangerously. Tempting fate was never a good idea. Destiny always took what it was due. Or in much less fancy words....You give these psychos a reason to dig a grave for you, then they would dig a grave for you.
At this point, one could doubt that the tavern was built upon this cemetery. I would rather say, it became a graveyard due to the many unruly guests, which had mysteriously "vanished".
If someone asked about suit-me and wig-me I had not seen a single thing.
The story might become more exciting if one would start to unravel all the mysteries of this place... but that would require lots of thinking and unnecessary action sequences.
And everyone knew that too much action was not good for one's health, so getting drunk was much more preferable. As the king of doing nothing, it was my duty to do as little as possible.
No matter what side story tried to force itself on me, the brave author would do his best and just ignore it all. The terminally ill granny in search of the rare medicinal herb was dead to me, the snotty brat looking for her pet blue whale too.
The old family sword, which had been stolen by a rich nobleman, was of no interest to anyone. The letter, which had to be transported to the other side of the world, unfortunately, did not find a stupid servant.
The stupid fetch quests could lick me where the sun don't shine.
All I wanted was a bit of peace and quiet from all the chaos. For once, not having to fear for my life or frantically try to entertain readers, was apparently too bland.
Not with me, I'm not moving out of here until my mind stops giving me good advice. As consequence, I need more of this liquor to reach this goal as soon as possible.
To all the impressionable children reading my story, drinking alcohol was stupid and should never be used to forget the worries of everyday life. Unless you are surrounded by your clones, then drink like the world was going to end tomorrow.
You guys, just do what you want, but don't point the finger in my direction when it inadvertently went down the drain. If I was supposed to be a role model to you, then almost everything had really gone wrong.
The only good advice I could give would be to choose the opposite of everything I did. Else you guys might find yourself writing cheap parodies on WN. Who would want to end up doing that?
Though you guys were not here for me... no, you were here for the clone cosplays.
Let us not waste any time with these "feelings", and start with the old badass grandpa. He was rocking the alcohol-stained wifebeater shirt. Filled with greased fast food it was the perfect social commentary about how awesome PTSD was. Veterans were a cool bunch.
Look at whom we have here? It was everyone's favourite the geezer with nosebleeds upon sniffing panties. The pervert, whom you just could not hate since most people hoped he would die soon.
In comes the Senior Creepy. The perfect person to look for murder victims in the basement. Also might have some cannibalistic tendencies; though his soup is absolutely to die for.
Clichés and stereotypes were the things the masses loved, why invent something "new".
Who would bother when it's all so easy? Originality was only for people who had lost control of their lives. Imagine, there were some special people that wanted to make up their own minds. They could not accept the cruel reality.
Creativity was dead, an absolute lack of ideas reigned over the book landscape.
Allow us to feed the bottomless appetite for already known archetypes with even more tropes to satiate the neverending need for mild enjoyment.
Here we have the racist Grandma with her hot-takes on all these dirty foreigners, taking away people's jobs. She had more insensitive commentary than a drunk soccer fan the moment their team lost.
Give a round of applause for entry NR.6 The classic Granny. She made the perfect cookies, had white hair and was kind to anyone. She was also knitting socks, t-shirts and many other things.
Okay, who let her onto the stage? We did not need such a lame character here. Get her outta here and put her to the other rejects. What's the use of such a character in this story? Huh, I was trying to make a point here and Granny here ain't good for the narrative.
.....
Who would be next? It's the beloved evil step-stepmother... so evil she needed one step more─that was how evil she was. In her spare time, she loved to torture little children for no reason at all. If you need a villain look no further.
Last but not least came the ultimate elderly life form. The absolute apex of senile beings, the bringer of all coupons, the watcher of shopping TV... here came your grandparents if they were not dead already.
Cuz literally everyone knows that their grandmas and grandpas are the best until you grow up and learn lots of fun secrets about them. For example how much Grandma liked to pet Grandpa's meaty python...
Life was short, so embrace em' whenever you can. Unless they are total nutjobs then tell them you look forward to their funerals. At least, that was the only they were ever getting laid again...
But why do I care? I was just here to drink and not get fined by the System...
Who could have guessed that this night would not end friendly?