"I think that, somewhere, someone is laughing while sadistically plotting our humiliating demises."

"… What makes you say that?"

Kell stared blankly at Daneth. "You really have to ask?"

Daneth raised an eyebrow in reply.

Kell sighed and ran and hand through his messy brown hair, grimacing as his fingers came in contact with unmentionable goop. Shaking his hand to free it from the sticky substance, Kell eventually gave up and wiped the slime-covered appendage off on his pants. "As I was saying, someone is sadistically plotting our humiliating demises."

"And what makes you say that?" Daneth crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the cave wall looking slightly annoyed.

"Well," Kell began, "for one, this whole 'save the world business' is a farce."

Daneth rolled his eyes before asking, "How so?"

"The first step in saving the world was to find some stupid mushrooms." Kell face began to redden with rage. "But not only were they mushrooms; they were hallucinogenic mushrooms that we had to give to some crazy old man so that he could blather incoherent nonsense at us and pretend to have given the most important prophecy in the history of the entire world."

"He could have said the prophecy in a foreign language," Daneth suggested, poking at a small outcropping of brittle rock.

"Foreign language, my ass! We both know he was so far gone he couldn't even string two coherent syllables together."

Daneth looked at his companion, both eyebrows raised. "And yet you went along with it."

"I don't know what possessed me," Kell replied, crossing his arms and turning slightly away from the stockier man.

"The person plotting our imminent demise, perhaps?"

"… Perhaps."

"And I suppose next you'll be saying that that person is also responsible for the incident with the burning pink llamas." Scorn. Skepticism.

Huffily, "I wouldn't put it past them."

Daneth stared at Kell for a long moment before saying, "I think it's all in your head."

"And I think you're wrong. Why else would we be sent to find and fetch a magical comb that keeps hair from ever tangling? I though the world was in imminent danger!" Torn between running his hands through his hair and waving them around in emphasis, Kell attempted to do both which merely resulted in him emphatically waving around his arms after having pulled out large clumps of his scalp.

Daneth backed away slowly. "You've definitely lost it."

"Oh yeah?! Well how do you explain having to cross a lake by dancing a ridiculous jig."

"I thought it was quite spirited and inspired. A nice change of pace from the usual world-saving gig."

Kell gave a strangled scream and jerked around like an overenthusiastic marionette. "Cordet drowned in that lake!"

"So? Casualties were to be expected. She never was much good for anything, anyways."

"But nobody deserves the humiliation of being smothered to death by cornstarch!"

"So you're saying that death by quicksand is preferable?"

"At least quicksand is a well-recognized danger!" Kell screeched, long past the borders of Hysterical.

This screeching and wailing did not go unnoticed and, with his keen senses honed by battle and experience, Daneth was able to discern an ominous shuffling noise emanating from further within the cave. Shushing his partner urgently, Daneth took the torch and ventured further in, only to be confronted by a line of black lace teddies.

Now, these were not your ordinary, snuggable, huggable, stuffed animal teddies. Oh no – these were the sexy, skimpy, pretty much transparent, ought-to-be-illegal lingerie type of teddies, and they were pissed. Before Daneth could so much as blink an eye, they mobbed him, and before the torch had hit the ground, his first and final scream had been cut off.

Before the harsh echoes had so much as reached the walls, Kell was off like an arrow, streaking through the tunnels blind, sobbing, "How did it all end up like this? How could it all end up like this?"

By some miracle of navigation, Kell saw light at the end of the tunnel: the exit! Throwing all caution to the winds, the maniac man ran full kilter – straight off the edge of a cliff.

His last coherent thought before hitting the ground with a splat was, How did it all end up like this?