When in doubt, flay 'em like a trout. Swift as a cat hopped up on methamphetamines you draw your sword, spin around, and hack off Organa Mel Fy's head. Magic may not be dope, but you sure are.


What didn't you know? Magic is a stimulating drug. That's why even the best wizards are twitchy and half-cracked in the head. Shit's addictive, man.


Whoa, what the hell is going on? Organa Mel Fy's body and freshly decapitated head melt into what appears to be water and seeps into the ground. That is not normal. Perhaps now would be a good time to get out of here. You are still feeling funny from the magic and can swear you are being watched as you clamber up out of the dell. In fact, your feet are moving in a flurry, but it does not seem like you are getting anywhere. You definitely passed that big ass maple like five times already.


You whirl around and brandish your sword. "Ok, what the fuck gives? Will the mysterious magic bitch or bastard please stand up?"


"If you insist." A mysterious magic bitch with bountiful breasts appears before you out of thin air wearing low-cut red robes. She reeks of magic and virility.


"Listen, err, lady, my day's been one odious load of shit, so unless you want me to wrap you up in the stink, I suggest you bugger off."


The woman's lips curl into a seductive smirk. "Aren't you curious as to whom I am, or what I am going to offer you?"


"At this point, I really don't give a damn."


"Perhaps you should."


"Perhaps you should suck my dick."


"If that is what you truly desire, that may be arranged. But for now, you will listen to my proposal like a good puppy." The woman raises her hand, immobilizing your body with her magic. "Now then-"

You struggle to break the spell with sheer willpower.

Ah, yes, the only thing more powerful than the human spirit is the spirit of a hero. You dig deep inside yourself, channeling your energy into an explosion of heroism. Eww, gross, it smells… sticky.


"- hey wait, what are you doing?" shrieks the mysterious magic bitch as you take a step forward. She doubles her efforts to paralyze you, but you are fixated on your goal and nothing is going to stand in your way. You cock your arm and deliver a vicious left hook. Crack. "Foolish mortal," she screams as blood dribbles down into her frock, "that was most unwise."


It really was, you think as you massage your broken hand against your thigh. Why didn't I just hack off her head?


Good question hero, how do you plan to kill her now with one arm and a broken hand?


I dunno, but it was worth it. The blood glistens gorgeously on her bosom.


Maybe. If you are into that kind of stuff. But the time for internal dialogue and wall shattering is over, you have a situation here.


The mysterious magic bitch hurls a poorly aimed fireball in your direction. "I bet you don't even have it in you to kill a woman!"


"Didn't I just kill that water creature thingy? What was her name, Morgan Le Fay?"


"Organa Mel Fy, you fool!" The mysterious magic bitch hurls another fireball, but once again, her aim is so dreadful you do not even have to dodge.


"Oh, whatever."


"Did you really think that half-witted harpy was the real Organa Mel Fy, sorceress supreme?"


"Kind of."


"Well she wasn't! I am!"


Organa Mel Fy whips up a magic firestorm, igniting the forest in a blaze of light and charred forest critters. You have to respect her strategy. When you cannot hit the broad side of a barn, just fire a broadside and blow everything to hell.


"I could have given you power beyond your wildest dreams! Sex the likes of which you have never known possible! We could have ruled the world together and ascended into the divine! Now DIE!"  


Flames lick at you from all angles while smoldering branches and roasted birds tumble around you. Your stomach rumbles and mouth waters. Too bad you do not have time for a snack; a nice greasy roasted duck would really hit the spot right about now. One problem at a time though. You think you see a small avenue of escape, but you will have to bolt for it now. Of course, running away admits defeat.

You fight

I didn't know you were courting Death.


I'm not. What the hell are you talking about?


Oh dear, this is awkward.


What!?


I just assumed you had a date with Death, how else to explain such an absolute act of pure, unadulterated retardation.


Crashing through the inferno, you barrel toward Organa Mel Fy as the flames sear your skin. One armed and broken handed, I'm certain the fight would have been worthy to watch. Sadly, you collapse before you close even half the gap where the dancing fires consume your corpse.


It is a shame really. You came so close to discovering Organa Mel Fy's secret. I actually thought you were going to make it. Instead, Organa Mel Fy did the world a service by culling a hero that just wasn't cut out for the job.