Chapter 47: Scouting the Competition

Chapter 47: Scouting the Competition

Welcome to the WWB! The World's Worst Beer!

Ten people enter.

One winner leaves.

A match for the ages.

The ‘Goliath’, Rumbob! His jolly *ho ho ho* is the last thing you’ll hear before his massive fists POUND you into the floor!

The ‘Heartbreaker’, Emerelda! Her green eyes and apple tresses are a trap to catch the eye while she CRUSHES your spirit!

The gnomish ‘Demon of Artifice’, Beatbox! Don’t let his small frame fool you, his DEVILISH good looks are only matched by his HELLISH intellect!

The ‘Basic Bitch Warrior’, Jim! Pause for effect.

The ‘Pink Panic’, Raspberrysyrup! This adorable gnomess has cooked up a hearty serving of PAIN and it’s time for dinner!

The ‘Crackian Bear’, Chuck! The MIDNIGHT of his skin is only matched by the BLACK of his heart, but he’ll give you the BRUISES to match!

The ‘Tiny Tank’, Tania! Heavy armor’s her fame and MAKING YOU CRY is her game!

The ‘Aptly Named’ Brewski! What monster names their child after bad beer? Find out when mummy runs into the ring and DESTROYS you!

The ‘Great White’ Lord Samuel! You’ll learn to respect yer elders after he teaches you a LESSON you’ll never forget!

Finally the ‘Cicerone’, Peter Roughtuff! The master of a thousand brews and the CERTAIN champeen!!!!!

YEAAAHHHHH!!!!

The crowd goes wild! Peter! Peter! Pete! Pete!

“Pete?”

Pete! Pete! Pete!

“Pete!”

“Huh, wuzzat?” I turned away from the massive trophy filled with mithril coins that had been set up on the stage. I had pro-wrestling on my mind ever since my conversation with Brock. I needed to go catch a show with him after this business with the brewery was done. Rumbob was standing beside me with a big smile on his white-bearded face.

*ho ho ho* “Yer distracted again! Are ya planin’ to give me an easy win?”

“Fat chance!” Erm... maybe not the best word choice there. “Uh, no chance?”

*ho ho ho* “No worry! I am what I am, and I’m proud of what I am. I know you meant no harm.”

“Phew. Thanks Rumbob. Yeah, I am a bit distracted, I really need to win this.”

“Ahh.. you seek to bring Minnova glory by competin' at the decamillenial?”

“No.”

“Hmm, you desire the fame that comes with bein' the first in all'a history to win this event!”

“Nope.”

“You... have spent many years preparin' yer body and mind for this final test and seek to prove your worth to one of the lovely lads or lasses up there?”

“Oh, definitely not. I just want the money.”

*ho ho ho* “Often the simplest answer is the correct one! Did you truly have such a need that you were willing to be a misfit before the entire city?”

“Aye. My friends really need the money, and I want to prove to them that I have what it takes.”

“I can see from their waving and shouting that they already believe that you have what it takes, my stylish competitor.” Rumbob pointed up to the stands, where Aqua was singing a cheer song that she must have just made up. My ears coloured with embarrassment, and maybe a little appreciation.

“Woah woah woah. Hold on a moment.” I dodged out of the way of a builder as he put a couple more finishing touches on the stage. “Did you say ‘misfit’?”

“Why yes! I know several of these fine dwarves and gnomes.” He pointed towards Beatbox, who waved, as well as Chuck, Emeralda, and Jim. “They are my compatriots, comrades in arms in the art of deep and fast drinkin’! The pro drinker’s ways are unpopular, though not illegal. This is our chance to shine in the sun and reveal to all the glory of the drinkin’ competition!” *ho ho ho*

“Truly a noble goal, sirrah!” I gave him a thumbs up.

“I’m glad you think so!” He gave me a thumbs up in return.

The ten winners were killing time on the sand of the arena floor while we waited for the competition to begin. I would have thought there would be a ceremony or some kind of back room for us to relax in, but apparently the organizers and the betting public wanted the maximum number of eyes on us at all times. I felt a bit like a fish in a fishbowl, and I could feel a cold sweat trickle down the small of my back.

“There’s Strawberrysyrup.” Beatbox practically hissed.

“She looks nice.” I gave the pink pigtailed gnomess a onceover. She reminded me a lot of that pink haired little sailor scout from back when Sammy had her ‘magical-girl’ phase. The look was completed by a ruffled dress and a cheerful demeanor.

“Ah yes.” Rumbob’s face darkened. “I was trying to ignore her.”

I could sense the grim undercurrent. “Why?”

Beatbox pointed up to the stands. “If you look over there, you can see the lovely blue beauty of Thirsty Goat Brewery beating a posse of pink perfumed posers with their own signs.“

“I see that." I made the connection immediately. “They’re wearing the same pink! Is that her family?”

“Her hangers ons.” Rumbob grumbled.

“Her groupies.” Beatbox grumped.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“She’s not a drinker.” Beatbox whined. “She’s a [Bard].”

“Again, what’s wrong with that?”

Beatbox stamped his feet a bit, which was absolutely adorable. “Beer is serious business! Our reputation is bad enough without turning drinking into.. into..”

“A show?” I raised an eyebrow and waved my hand around the packed colosseum.

*ho ho ho* Rumbob pulled at his white whiskers. “He’s got us there, Beaddy.”

“She’s just using her drinking skills to garner fans! It’s not... It’s not... It’s not fair! Dammit, I had to be a closet speed drinker for years and she just... does it out in the open!”

“You’re just angry she’s prettier and more popular than you are.” Emerelda broke in, as she joined us. "Besides, if you're not careful you'll end up sitting with them." She pointed towards a dozen or so dwarves at the front of the stands. They were all in traditional leather and mail armor, and were carrying placards that had slogans like:

"Beer isn't a Game" and "The True Brew Needs You".

"Who're those posers?" I asked.

"The Honourable Guild of Brewers," Rumbob sighed. "They're in charge of all the breweries in Minnova. They're not fans of competitive drinkin'." Ergh, that sounded a lot like Tim. I was nearly guaranteed to butt heads with them at some point.

"Are they powerful?"

"Not really. They take themselves pre'ty seriously, but their own traditions keep 'em from pushin' their weight around too much."

"And shortstack sounds just like them!" Emerelda added.

“Yearns Yams, Emerelda, this was a private conversation!” Beatbox kicked the dwarfess in the shins.

She smiled cheerily and put her hand down on his face, pushing him away. She turned to me, and I was struck by what an absolutely charming permed beard she had. Her eyes sparkled as she looked me up and down. “You’re a cut above the rough crowd I’m used to in this field. I’m Emerelda, nice to meet you, handsome.” She held out her hand and I smiled as I took it.

“I’m Pete, nice to meet you too. You're a good bit better looking than these two too.”

“Ha, flatterer! Don’t let these two try and hoodwink you. Rumbob here is almost impossible to knock over, and those contraptions make Beatbox slippery and a pain to keep grappled. Rumbob is weak to tickling under his left knee, and Beatbox can’t handle having his moustache pulled.”

“Hey!”

*ho ho ho* “Says the lass with a glass jaw!”

The three friends laughed and jostled good naturedly. The trickle of cold sweat falling down the small of my back was slowly turning into ice.

“Why... why are you all giving me so much advice on how to fight?”

“Didn’t ya read tha competition rules?” Emerelda asked.

“Indeed, all the relevant information can be found there.” Beatbox nodded.

I pulled out the paper with the competition rules on it and quickly read down to the offending sentence.

‘Top three will go on to represent Minnova in the Capital. The last one standing wins!’

*ho ho ho* "Surely you realized. It's called a 'Beer Brawl'!"

I stared in shock at the page. Oh, come on! What's in a name?

“Makin’ sure yer beer doesn’t spill while a gnome is chewin’ on yer toes is always the tricky part!” Rumbob continued, incredibly unhelpfully.

Oh, noooooo. Where was Doc Opal to hide behind when I needed her!