I helped fight a testicle monster. A testicle monster, with a handsome face, a face, no doubt, made for the theater. Yes, that face could’ve been the lead in Hips, Legs, and Ankles. I’m surrounded by dicks. Literal dicks. Mosquito monsters have dicks. I have seen dicks chopped off. I have seen dicks restored. How does one fight giant testicle monsters? I’m not a fighter. I learned fighting for the theater! I can’t even fight a mosquito monster without getting fucked!
I’m thankful I’m part of a group that can fight and defeat giant testicle monsters, which they did about forty five minutes ago. We had to defeat the Trumpets of Revolution first. They spoke a hard, violent language, but when pushed and engaged in a fight, they went down easy. The leader, for instance, this grotesque person tinged with deep orange, was killed with incredible speed. Our biggest threat came from an archmage. I threw my newfound fancy magic weapon at him. It looked totally cool the way it soared, but my accuracy needs improvement. Fortunately for the group, I was a non-entity throughout much of the fight. I considered swimming in the lake. Fortunately, I did not, for the lake was the realm of the handsome giant testicle monster.
Our group defeated the Trumps. Our victory was short-lived, for out of the depths of the lake came the giant testicle monster with the face of an angel. He threatened us, boasted about how evil he was, namedropped Carcosa, which is never good, so Icos decided he needed to die. Again, I contributed little to the fight. Sure, my magic astounded the theater-goers of the majestic production Giants Have Feelings Too but it’s no match for demons, testicles, and dicks. The more adept magicians and fighters in our crew defeated the handsome giant testicle monster.
The water drained from the lake. At the bottom sat a black amulet. I investigated the amulet. It radiated dark, dangerous magic. We debated destroying it or hiding it deep within the underground. We attempted to destroy it. It did not work. We were transported to this desert place. I’m writing you from it. It’s strange that I found the time to write you, Log, because of the aforementioned temporal shift.
I think I’m going crazy,