Do not touch

“Why can’t I see?”

“Because it is dark.”

“Who are you? Where am I?”

“It is dark, so I don’t know where we are.”

“What happened? Why are we here?”

“Dude, just shut the fuck up. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know were we are and I don’t want to talk to you guys.”

“Wait, there are more than the two of us?”

“The endless darkness here is only filled with the dread of the end of our existence.”

“Oh great! Now the poet starts talking too again!”

“What happened? Where are we? Who are you?”

“It seems we are caught in the realm of nothingness, somewhere in between the fabrics of reality. Here we are nothing, there I was a poet for our great king.”

“We are not stuck in some endless fucking void. Some lunatic captured us and threw is in the dark. All we have to do is wait till he kills us.”

“Who are ‘we’? Who else is here?”

“I am. I am a great hero. Thus fear not! For I will free us when our captor comes for our lives!”

“Sounds a bit arrogant to introduce yourself as a great hero, doesn’t it? If you were such a great hero, why the fuck did you end up in this place anyway?”

“I shall not lower myself to your standards. I will not pick a fight with scoundrel like you. I need to spare my energy for when the time is there to safe you all.”

“A hero is not born, it is forged within great men when peril is upon us.”

“I agree with you, poet. I was shaped when people needed me most.”

“Seriously, ‘great men’? Sounds a bit sexist to me…”

“Who is speaking? I have some difficulties to keep you apart because I can’t see your faces.”

“Are you joking? You can’t separate me from that bunch of dickheads? I am the only lady here!”

“Well, Janet, from what I’ve heard from you before you are not really ladylike. You sound more like a dirty old hag.”

“Do not let him fool you, new guy. I am a beautiful lady laying here, thinking of you. If only you could hold me and let your hands slide over my arched back. If only you could turn me around and press your body against mine while you gently kiss my neck. If only your hands could slowly slide over my arms and lightly squeeze my hands before sliding onto my thin waist. If only your hands could slowly move over my soft skin, over my belly upward to my firm breasts. If only my body could shiver while being caressed by your strong hands. Than you would know how beautiful I really am.”

“You’re full of shit, Janet.”

“Fuck you, my name isn’t Janet.”

“How did we end up here? I can’t remember being captured by some evil creature.”

“Dude, I don’t fucking know. Stop whining.”

“It seems as if the darkness is slowly eating away our memories and will soon consume our beings till we are one with the void.”

“Fear not, my poet. It does not matter how we got here, only how I will free us.”

“Maybe we are all already fucking dead and this is the afterlife: just our floating heads talking into the darkness.”

“Oh my, why?! Why are you such morons?!”

“Who is that?”

“That’s grumpy old fuck. He doesn’t say much and when he does, he is even more offensive and insulting than I am.”

“Why don’t you morons think a bit about the last thing you did? Lets start with you, my foul-mouthed nobody. What is the last thing you can remember?”

“See, he’s the real dick here! I’m just a nobody pretending to be a dick!”

“Really? You are just pretending? I can’t remember ever hearing you say something remotely nice and you have had plenty of opportunity since you talk even more than that bloody poet does!”

“My curse is talent in an art so few of you seem to understand. It is your incomprehension that fuels your anger and hurts my feeling. If any, I am the real victim here.”

“Fuck! I really want to punch that poet!”

“Just answer the old guy.”

“Fine, last thing I remember I was strolling around the palace looking for some fancy items that could use a new owner.”

“I was in the palace too! An old friend was giving me a tour.”

“I fear I was in the palace too. I cannot remember who attacked me and brought me here. But it sounds like I was protecting the king and queen from this vile being that captured us!”

“Oh my… you are truly the greatest! Unfortunately not of heroes, but of morons! It was not a ‘who’ but a ‘what’.”

“A cosmic horror, formless to the point that it is certainly not a ‘who’ barely even a ‘what’. We are the victims of that what is beyond our comprehension!”

“I hate that poet too.”

“I touched a staff.”

“Yes, Janet, touching staffs is probably most of your memories.”

“The only staff I want to sit on is that of the new guy. He sounds cute. But no, dickhead, I touched an actual mage’s staff.”

“I did too! My friend showed me the quarters of the king’s mage and his staff was standing there in the middle of the room.”

“And, my little moron, what did the sign in front of the staff say?”

“I can’t read.”

“An epiphany this must be! I too touched that mighty mage’s staff! In front the sign said: do not touch. But what really is touching?”

“Well, you moronic poet, I will explain to you what ‘do not touch’ means. It means: DO NOT TOUCH!”

“Wait, now just fucking wait! Was that staff I tried to snitch cursed?”

“Yes… yes, my morons, I cursed my staff! Because every single person that enters my quarters always has to touch my staff. The sign I put there only seems to encourage you filthy animals! So I cursed it! I cursed it to send you all to this interdimensional chamber to ponder on your misbehaviour!”

“But why are you in here as well? Are you judging us till we learned our lessons so you can release us?”

“No, It was a rather complicated curse. Afterwards I touched my staff to make sure it worked. It did…”