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The Monkey King's School of the Mystical Arts
#2
So whatever. Rowan had disappeared with Old Man River and the Witch Queen. Lucky bastard. Guy was probably living it up in some threeway. He tipped a hat he wasn't wearing. Respect, man.

And the Lady laughed and laughed at him. I never promise you anything, my love.

Hahaha! Fuck you, you fucking bitch. Eh, but she'd drop a line for him to follow at some point. A thread of chaos. Seams in the world to tug at and pull apart. He loved the look on people's faces as they saw their foundations questioned. Their world crumble.

In the meantime, he cast himself into the air, floating and flying. There were so many opportunities out there. Something would get his attention.

So walking down a street, he was open to anything. Fucking cunt would show herself eventually. Something. anyway. Maybe she'd let him play this time, too. Gotta give me some fun, babe.

He laughed as he saw the sign. Reminded him of Rowan. Mystical arts. You could piss in any direction and hit someone peddling mystical arts. Monkey King. Wonder if the teacher was a monkey. Be funny at least.

He was bored. Whatever. Like he was doing anything today. He walked in. Yeah, clearly the owner was raking in the dough. The silence was deafening.

Maybe if the sign had some hot girls or something on it at least the douche factor would show up. You know, like the bikini coffee joints. Shit was swill. But the lines around the building said that sad pathetic losers would do anything to get close to a chick. Even if she literally took your coffee order and served it.

Not like it was gourmet crap grown on the side of a volcano fertilized by bats from Madagascar; or that was ground by the most recent refugee children from Sumatra; or served over ice formed in protected caves in Siberia; with cream from the milk of lactating mothers in the Himalayas; or whatever else fucking pretentious thing coffee jerk offs wanted. Just plain old coffee. And still, the lines didn't end. Fucking morons.

Nope. Just an empty studio.

So Mik is walking in, looking around and notices the sign. Goddamn snake eating its tail. Now why did that spark a memory?
"Good and ill. 
We're like the wind, 
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
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RE: The Monkey King's School of the Mystical Arts - by Mikhail - 03-12-2019, 04:51 AM

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