(A/N) At the end of my last story (It's not easy being evil) I said that the sequel would be called Lord of the Badgers. Now, the problem with that was making a story in which the hero was a God, had no problems and ruled the world, not necessarily in that order.

So, the only thing that made sense was to write a prequel, in the time when evil was, well, evil, and you could do an evil chant without the neighbours complaining.

Of course, this lands us on a prequel written as a sequel, so that you have to read the original story first. Weird, I know, but that sort of things tend to happen when dealing with badgers.

Everybody get that? Ok. On with the prequel.


Chapter one:

Introducing: The Lord of the Badgers

The story begins in Hell. This is unusual, because most stories go at least a few paragraphs before going to Hell. However, this story is about demons, and it is common knowledge that demons are mostly found in Hell and in User Service departments.

The two demons nearby was currently trying to get a magic image of the world above, and blaming each other for lack of success.

"This is all your fault!"


"How is it my fault we can't use the Unholy Pool?" Grumbled the other demon.

"It's your fault because you washed your socks in it!"

 "And? Why can't we use it anyway? Shriek did."

"Shriek also got pulled in and eaten! Your socks should be burnt, not washed!"

"Okay, okay, so it's my fault. But there has to be something else we can use."

"We need still water, and this privy is the only water in Hell. We used to drown people in it."

"Stupid rules… Wait, the picture's returning!"

Indeed it was. It showed a clearing in a forest of some kind. One man was propped against a tree, fast asleep. The other, who seemed to be a wizard, was preparing some sort of ritual.

"Why do we have to wait for the wizard to do this?" Complained the demon with the clean socks. "Why cant we just take him here and torture him a bit?"

The other demon sighed. It was the kind of sigh used by those teamed up with stupid people who like to complain. "Look. The wizard wants to find the Lord of the Badgers to destroy Hell. He needs to make certain. Therefore, he will consult powers beyond even us, using strange and mystic rituals."

He squinted at the image. "And these are pretty strange."

The other demon stared. "Is that a duck?"

"I think so."

"What's he doing with it? He looks like he's… He can't be…." The demon trailed of. "Damn" he said at last.

"I know. So am I, remember?"

"What? No, I meant what he did. Even with custard…"

In the image, the ritual was reaching its crescendo (A banjo was involved) and the demons leaned in, all thoughts of waterfowls and custard forgotten. There was a brief squawk, an almighty burp from the heavens, and a badger landed on the sleeping mans head.

The demons leaned back.

"So, we know he is the Lord of the Badgers. Can we kill him now?"

"No, the Boss said to watch him. There will be companions. There are always companions."

"Oh yes, the Boss… Does he still have that skull collection? And the big axe?"


"Let's just do as we're told, ok?"

"Sensible thinking. And ArrrGH…"


"Can you pick up your socks? It's just that they're eating my lunch…"

Brock Meles had had a very odd dream. He couldn't remember much, except that a duck was somehow involved, and a banjo. Still, just when it was getting interesting, something heavy landed on his head and tried to chew off his ear in a friendly fashion.

"Good morning, lad. Good to see you alive and well."

He opened his eyes and saw a man with a long beard and a robe beaming down at him. Brock replied the only thing he could think of.

"Who are you, and what's sitting on my head?"

The man, whom Brock guessed was a wizard of some kind, peered closely.

"It would appear to be a small badger, about the size of a large chicken. You don't often see them that small, you know."

"And you?"

"Why, I'm the wizard Dementis, and I am here to lead you to your destiny!"

"What destiny? I'm a shepherd! What happen to my sheep anyway?"

"They seem to have taken fear of something, and it bodes ill. Sheep are able to detect the evil eye, you know."

"Damn, I knew we should have killed the sheep!"

"Just keep looking. And get your socks under control!"

Brock stared at him. "So if not shepherding, what is my destiny?"

"I'm glad you asked. I have here a copy of Smokepot's prophecies." He took out a battered book, opened it at a bookmark and handed it to Brock. "Read aloud."

Brock took the book and read:

"For in these days it shall come to pass that The Lord of the Badgers shall walk the earth, and he shall Ride the Winds of Change and Smite the Hells with His Badgerly Wrath."

 His eyes travelled downward and read:

"And I saw, like, frogs wearing tutus, y'know? And they were dancing Ballet! It was like, far out, man…"

The wizard snatched back the book hurriedly. "Obviously we can't take everything he said seriously. But you are the Lord of Badgers, there is no doubt about that."

"Er, right." Said Brock, trying to dislodge the badger on his head. It gripped his scalp with its claws in a friendly fashion, which suggested it wouldn't stay friendly if further attempts to dislodge it were made. He gave up. "So what am I supposed to do then?"

"You will travel to the Hells and face down all its inhabitants."

Brock looked at him. "No, I don't think I will."

"But it's in the prophecies!"

"Next to ballet dancing frogs. Give me one good reason."

"Fame? You'll be remembered in song and story."

"I'd rather be alive than remembered."

"The opportunity to see the places no mortal has seen before?"

"Briefly, I suppose."

"Oh no!"


"No! If you lose, the demons will probably torture you for years."

"Not a good argument."



"Girls love a man who battle the hordes of Hell."

Brock considered this. "These prophesise… Are they confident that I will win?"

"Yes" the wizard lied. "There's nothing about you being tortured in the deepest pits forever more. Nope. Not at all."

"Well, I suppose I owe it to the world to do my bit in the war against demons."

"That's the spirit! Shall we go? We need to pick up some companions mentioned in the prophecies."

"Great. Can you get this badger off my head?"

The badger sneered at the wizard, who backed away.

"Thought not."

"It's not that bad. You're making your own style."

"By having a badger on my head?"

"My friend, when you have lived as long as I have, you will learn that there are far worse things to have stuck to your head than badgers."

"Name one."

The wizard put an arm around his shoulder and led him out of the clearing.

"You are a lucky man." He said. "Imagine if you had been the Lord of the Bulls."