New Sponsorship Offer!

  “Awww snap!” I grinned at my HUD. “Let’s see what we got!”

  G crossed all four of his arms and yawned.

  ERNI brought the sponsorship offer up in a new window.

  “Greetings, SackUpSam!

  Congratulations on your epic dodge of extinction. Much like an ant evading a boot, as a mere human, you have defied insurmountable odds and shown the multiverse the impact one small weakling can have.”

  “Hey!” I paused reading. “Aren’t sponsorships supposed to be a vote of confidence?”

  “Typically, yes.” ERNI replied.

  “Then, what’s with all the backhanded compliments?”

  “Perhaps, something got lost in translation,” ERNI offered.

  “Or, perhaps, not,” G laughed.

  Count Basil shrugged.

  I scowled, but kept reading.

  “We, at the Drazzix Dance Dimension, also look to inspire the multiverse through the power of dance—communicative movement that transcends all worlds, species, and cultures. As you continue your quest, we would like to offer you an exclusive dance sponsorship.“

  “A dance sponsorship?“ I scoffed. “What kind of clown show is this? I’ve been serving up gore and carnage from the moment I entered the tournament. Why aren’t my kills getting more respect?“

  “Maybe, because you fight with a plant strapped to your back,” G smirked.

  “Hey, Count B is a righteous soldier on this battlefield and deserves his respect too.”

  He slapped me a high leaf.

  Apparently, the multiverse still saw us very much as a joke. Irritated, I was about to reject the offer.

  Triggered, ERNI must have sensed the rise in my pulse.

  “Sam, before you make a hasty decision, you might want to take a closer look at the specifics of their offer.”

  I scanned further down the letter.

  Here is our offer:

  Item 1: Destructive Dance-Off Play.

  Initiate an immediate, involuntary dance-off between you and engaged enemies (once per quarter).

  Item 2: +50,000 credits

  “Accepting this offer could be a positive sign to other potential sponsors who are watching,” ERNI interjected. ”Plus, do you really have the luxury of being picky at the moment?”

  ERNI had a point. I couldn’t deny it. It’s not like the sponsorship offers were rolling in. Maybe accepting this deal might lure in a bigger fish.

  “You know what…” I nodded my head.

  Offer Accepted.

  The letter poofed into a glittery animation.

  New Sponsorship Obtained!

  Drazzix Dance Dimension.

  Items Acquired:

  Destructive Dance-Off Play.

  +50,000 credits.

  New Trophy! Double Dealer.

  Reward: +10,000 Points!

  The notifications ceased, and I locked eyes with G.

  “What?“ I asked, off his bemused look.

  “It’s a wonder your species ever mated at all.“

  “Hey, don’t knock the hustle. You’re looking at a multi-dimensional dance hero now.”

  I busted out a robot dance, gyrating and shifting my body in crisp, rhythmic moves. Count Basil hopped in with a pop-lock behind me. I mimed like I was on the mic—

  “We bad! We bad! That’s right, you know we bad!”

  We finished with a syncopated arm roll, from one fingertip through the other, and slapped another high leaf.

  G rolled his eyes and proceeded to pick his teeth with a dagger. I guzzled some Nebula Fuel and patted the big guy on the back.

  “You know—I can teach you some moves if you want.“

  “There is little you can teach me, Sam-a-roni.“

  G stunned me—busting out a robot dance of his own. With his four arms and masterful technique, he put my routine to shame. He finished, held out a furry claw, and I slapped it. I had to give him props.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Every once in a while the big lug surprised me. Sure, he had that whole stone-cold exterior thing going. But deep down inside, the fuzzy guy was a big bag of cuddles. He had a heart of gold, even if he was willing to rip yours from your chest and take a bite out of it before you lost consciousness.

  ----

  We followed the scoring indicator on the map, which led us into the Copper Canyon. It was larger and deeper than the Grand Canyon, with towering cliffs, narrow passes, and dense forests.

  We paused a half click away, scoping the scoring zone from behind a ridge of rocks. The glowing green arrow pointed down at a flat patch of earth, littered with the recently fallen remains of the Copper Canyon railway train. Large chunks of collapsed bridge and smashed train cars encircled the scoring zone like a steel octagon.

  “What is this? An MMA fight?“

  “A what?” G asked.

  “Televised mixed martial arts fights. They were a big thing among humans.“

  “You humans were so strange. Watching fights instead of participating in them. Playing video games instead of doing the real thing. Did you also mate this way, simulating the act without physical contact?“

  “No!” I said defiantly. “Okay, maybe yes. Actually, very much yes.”

  Who was I kidding? Near the end, most of what we did as a population was through a screen.

  G shook his head, “Pitiful.”

  I pointed at the scoring zone.

  “All right… do you actually want to strategize this time, or are you gonna go with the usual ‘run ahead and shout’ approach?”

  “It has worked well so far.“

  “Yeah, okay… but do you understand the whole team concept? Did the Vylgarianths have team sports?“

  “Ah. Like our tribal beast flayings?“

  “Not exactly what I had in mind, but okay, yeah… we’ll go with tribal beast flayings. You did that together as a group, yeah?”

  “Yes.“ His eyes glowed as he savored the memory. “Our clans would unite every quarter-chron and hunt down the Great Fangellikus. Many Vylgarianths died, but we would honor their memory as we flayed the beast slowly over the next full cycle.“

  “Charming. So, you can understand what I mean when I say ‘teamwork makes the dream work.’“

  Count Basil facepalmed his leafy head.

  “You have made a valid point, Doughboy Sam. I await your suggestion.“

  “Okay, these boss guys, they’re pretty tricky. You got a lot of arms there, so why don’t we assign you to grappling? You tackle and hold the thing while me and Count Basil bring the pain.“

  G’s eyebrows raised. “So, your big idea is that I hold the enemy while you destroy it?“

  “Yeah, what’s so unbelievable about that?“

  “Nothing at all,” he said with a grin. “In fact, I look forward to it.“

  There was something disconcerting about his smile. Still, I was glad he saw my way of thinking for once.

  Mission Complete: Reach Scoring Zone.

  Mission: Kill Boss Monster.

  We spread out and took a wide approach, coming in from flanking angles. As soon as we got close enough a long, green, boss monster health gauge faded up at the top of my HUD.

  ME: Okay, you guys ready?“

  GNARLTHARR: Ready.

  Count Basil flashed me a leaves-up ‘ready.’

  I unmuted the ISSN feed as I looked for any signs of the boss monster.

  “Whoa-ho-ho, here we go!“ Blink exclaimed. “Armed with his two teammates, SackUpSam approaches his first scoring zone of the second quarter! I gotta tell you, Gill, this kid’s become something of a sensation!”

  “I think you meant sedation,“ Gill huffed, feigning a yawn. “He certainly induces sleep for me.“

  “He’s gonna have his arms full this time, and so are his teammates. Because, they are set to fight the mighty Octoglorpus!!!“

  Mute.

  ME: What did he just say?

  ERNI: “I believe he said Octoglorpus.”

  ME: “Yeah, that’s what I thought I heard. But, what’s an Octo—“

  WHAM!

  Before I could finish, the monster slammed down in the center of the scoring zone.

  It was 2 stories tall—green and veiny, with the large, bulbous mantle of an octopus, dotted with a bank of menacing eyes. It roared, slamming its arms against the ground—all eight of them—thick and strong, glistening with fresh blood and lined with serrated, barbed suckers.

  ME: Fuuuuck! That’s one giant piece of pissed-off sushi!

  Octoglorpus. Level 7.

  The creature arched up on its legs, allowing us a glimpse at the horrific maw of its razor-sharp beak. It spit out a chunk of chewed-up train, then raised its arms in a “come get some” gesture. G looked over at me with a grin. I waved, nonchalant.

  ME: Piece of cake.

  G sprinted toward the monster, yelling as usual.

  YAAAH!!!

  He grabbed three of its arms, flipping the monster up into the air, suplexing it right back down onto its head. The monster barely took any damage.

  ME: Huh. Barely caused a scratch.

  GNARLTHARR: You gonna pitch in here, or you just gonna be a spectator?

  ME: Oh yeah, sorry.

  SHIIING!

  I sprinted in, pizza cutters out, spinning, with their enlarged laser blades. I flipped through the air, angling down towards the exposed, soft underbelly of the beast. It was working. I couldn’t believe it, but my plan was actually working. I was about to land an early death blo—

  THWACK!

  A giant arm swatted me from the air like a baseball, slamming me into the side of the twisted metal octagon.

  WOOMPH!

  I bounced off, hitting the ground hard. Pain erupted in my chest. I was pretty sure I had broken ribs. I let out a whispery gasp, tasting blood in my mouth.

  “Owww…”

  GNARLTHARR: What did you say again… about making the dream work?

  I fought back to my feet as the monster did the same. G was doing his best to keep the creature in a hold, but for once, he was out-armed. Figuratively and literally. The Octoglorpus swept his feet, taking G down.

  “Come on, Count B! We gotta help him out!”

  Count Basil and I flipped back into action. Basil wrapped his vines around two of the Octoglorpus’ arms. I brought the pizza cutters down, sawing one of them off. Thick, pink, arterial blood gushed all over me, like a tidal wave of anti-acid medicine.

  “Yuck!” I flung the goo off.

  The creature howled in pain, spitting a few half-digested skulls out of its beak. One of the half rotted faces stared up at me with dead eyes.

  “Oh shiii—”

  THWACK!

  The Octoglorpus smacked the shit out of me with one of its free arms. I went flying, smacking hard into the dirt. I spat out a tooth as I looked over at G. The monster had him pinned on the ground with two of its arms, pummeling him with a third.

  ME: Here! Use this!

  A notification flashed up on my HUD.

  Transfer Web Weaver Play To Teammate Gnarltharr?

  Yes.

  GNARLTHARR: I do not want your toy.

  The Octoglorpus was batting his face back and forth like a punching bag. I watched G’s health gauge drain. It was the first time I had seen him face substantial damage.

  ME: QUIT BEING SO STUBBORN AND TAKE IT!

  GNARLTHARR: FINE!

  A notification flashed on my HUD.

  Gnarltharr is Running: Web Weaver Play.

  All four of G’s hands suddenly began to fire sticky webbing at the Octoglorpus—first covering its eyes, then tacking down several of its arms. This gave him a chance to get back to his feet. He looked over at me, surprised and pleased.

  GNARLTHARR: What do you know? Thanks, Brick Oven Sam.

  ME: Don’t mention it.

  Never mind that I was busy holding on for dear life as one of the Octoglorpus’ arms flung me around like a rag doll. I flew off, this time, somehow landing on my feet. The monster ripped free from Count Basil’s grip, tearing off the tips of his leafy arms.

  “YOU SLIMY MOTHERFUCKER!!!!”

  I sprinted at the beast and caught another arm to the jaw. I flew backwards, landing hard, spitting out several more teeth.

  ME: Ow.

  I looked up, dizzy.

  ME: I thoughth I cuth thath arm offf.

  GNARLTHARR: You sure about that?

  I looked and did a double take. The bleeding stump was already starting to regenerate, growing back a new arm in its place.

  ME: You’th gotha bthe kithdding me.