After a long and perilous journey, our heroes found themselves at the foot of the Hill of Disproportionately Small Demons. Many a toe would be viciously nibbled by the infernal creatures, but it was worth it to reach their goal-the Tower of the Macguffin. Without a second thought, the king of Everything charged up the hill, and the others soon followed. Our heroes fought through the minor inconvenience as they reached the other sides, toes stinging with tiny bite marks all the while. With that small trial out of the way, our heroes soon found themselves in the Bog of Minor Plot Importance…
“Well,” the king began as he came to a stop, “I do believe we should stop here for the knight.”
“Seriously?” Incredulaos, the cleric, inquired incredulously. “We have almost seven more hours worth of daylight and you want to stop right now for the night?”
The king cocked his head like a dog and asked “what? Oh, no, I meant Steven. He was rather viciously nibbled.” He gestured toward the group’s knight sitting on a conveniently nearby stump holding his feet in sort of agony. “How are you doing, Steven?”
“Paaaaaain…” the man’s groan echoed through his incredibly large helmet. “Can I take this thing off, sire? it’s unbearably hot…”
“Absolutely not!” the king scolded him angrily. “Keep that under wraps.”
The knight whimpered sadly.
“...Anyway…” Incredulaos continued on while ignoring the continuing exchange in front of him, “I say we continue pushing through this infernal place until we actually need to stop. Who’s with me?’
The sound of crickets was all he got in response.
“...Apparently no one. That’s...uh, that's fine. I'll just...go on my own, then.”
       Silence.
      “I'm...I'm going now. Does...does anyone care? I...I might actually die. That's. That's pretty serious.”
        The amount of not-caring currently going on was actually astounding.
         “Uh...bye,” the cleric muttered as he finally walked further into the Bog, where he would wander aimlessly for the rest of his short life, far from his group as well as his plot relevance.
          As we turn our attention to the people that actually matter, the king of Everything suddenly noticed things were much...quieter than before. There was something missing. Something that he barely registered but if he thought about it long enough, he would start to feel a sense of loss, even though it hardly mattered to him at all.
          “My god!” The King cried out suddenly. “The cleric is gone! We have to go find him!” He began to rally up his troops. However, the troops seemed to have other ideas.
“Nah,” the king’s men chorused in unison. “Skip him.”
“Oh,” the king stuttered, dumbfounded. “Well, won't you miss him?”
“Nope,” Steven answered bluntly.
“But he was our only cleric!”
“So? What even is a cleric? What did he do?”
“He–well, I don't know what he did, actually. But we must rescue him! It is our duty as knights!”
“Meh, just leave him,” another knight said with a wave of his hand. “It's too much work.”
           The king stroked his chin and thought out loud. “Well, I suppose we could just leave him. However, we need something to drive the plot…” He thought for a few minutes before he snapped his fingers in delight. “Aha!” He exclaimed. “I've got it–we’ll slay a dragon!”
             “Nah,” the knights refused again. “That sounds way too dangerous.”
             The king was rather taken aback by their flat rejection. “W–well…” He stuttered. “I suppose we could liberate the neighboring kingdom of their corrupt government. How does that sound?”
“Nope,” the knights answered flatly.
“Find an artifact?”
“No.”
“Go on a holy quest?”
“Rather not.”
“Rescue beautiful damsels?”
“Most of us are gay.”
“Well, what do you want to then?” The king asked, admitting defeat.
The knights looked at each other for a minute before nodding their heads in agreement.
“We want to go home.”
“Oh,” the king said, disappointed. “Well, goodbye.”
Soon, the king was completely alone, and he whistled a cheerful tune as the sun began to set, leaving him in total darkness.

Meanwhile, Incredulaos, having rediscovered his plot relevance, began wandering deeper  the Bog of Minor Plot Importance when he suddenly realized that he could no longer see where he was going.
“Wha..?” He started to ask what had happened when he realized that there was nobody around to hear him.  And it was such a realization that made him realize that he had realized too late that such a realization had put him in peril--at least for now. Without much else to occupy his time with, Incredulaos put his foot forward while trying not to think about what chilled, runny substance was seeping into his sandals.
“Incredulaos?” A soft voice called out tentatively. “Incredulaos, is that you?”
Despite the overall rather underwhelming scope of the voice, Incredulaos jumped at the sound of his name, causing his sandals to be further submerged into the unknown substance. “Gah! These freaking sandals--Yeugh! Oh my god, what is on my feet? Christ! Jesus! Fu--”
“Incredulaos!” The voice conveniently interjected. “This is no time for naughty language. Here, let me help you out of that slimeworm nest.”
“What?! Get off of me you...you--!” the cleric continued screaming as a pair of disembodied hands picked him out of the muck. After a few seconds of unnecessary dialogue, Incredulaos finally recognized the voice with arms attached to it. “High Priestess Titsibutt?” He questioned adverbly.
“It’s about time you noticed!” High Priestess Titsibutt sighed theatrically “I’ve been talking to you for three or four paragraphs!”
“What?” Incredulaos asked, not understanding what she meant.
“Three or four minutes,” the priestess said dismissively.
“That’s not what you--”
“Anyway,” the woman cut in with a warning look, “Where is the king of Everything? Or anyone else for that matter? Shouldn’t you be with them?” She shot a concerned glance his way. “They wouldn’t just leave you behind like that.”
“They got bored and stopped paying attention to me,” the cleric said, pouting.
“Oh,” Titsibutt stated casually. “They would do that.”
“Yeah. Can you get me back to them?” Incredulaos asked while trying not to sound hopeful.
“Well…” the priestess began with slumped shoulders, “normally I could, but we can’t go anywhere right now.”
“And why is that?” Incredulaos demanded incredulously.
“Where are your sandals, cleric?”
Incredulaos hesitated, dread in his stomach, before answering. “...in the slimeworm nest. Which by the way, you’ve yet to explain.”
“Are you aware of the incredibly sharp and inconvenient thorn patch just centimeters from our location?”
“...No.”
“Can you cross this thorn patch without your sandals?”
“...No.”
“So, what should you do about that?”
“Could you perhaps carry me?”
“I am not carrying you, Incredulaos.”
“Could we perhaps go around the patch?”
“No, Incredulaos.”
“...”
“You know, I’m beginning to see why the others aren’t with you.”
The two continued for a few more minutes with their pointless chatter when they heard a low roar erupted from the slimeworm nest, stopping both of them dead in their tracks.
“I-is that a s-s-slimeworm?” Incredulaos stuttered.
“No,” Titsibutt whispered, completely motionless. “It’s worse. Much, much worse.”
Incredulaos stood for only a second more before running as fast hast as he could in the direction he came from.
“No, don’t!” Titsibutt screamed after him. “It’s a Cliffhanger! You’re giving him something to exploit!”
But the cleric didn’t listen and ran even faster, intending to take him to the king and his knights, completely unaware of the fact that they had all left in pursuit of getting into their beds or getting incredibly attractive men into their beds. The cleric ran on, completely expecting a whole army when he got to the clearing as the Cliffhanger slowly grew closer.

The king of Everything sat in total darkness while humming happy songs to himself. “Well, what did you think of that last one, Mr. Stump?” he asked the tree stump he had been sitting on with a pat. “It’s an old calvary song--and old favorite of mine, actually.”
He stayed there for a little while longer before speaking up again. “Do you remember when we had a plot, Mr. Stump?”
The stump, as stumps are wont to do, said nothing.
The king continued anyway. “I miss that plot. It was good plot. Full of daring--may have even gotten to go back to Everything. There only a few huts there--non indicative name, I know, but it’s home. I do so miss those two or three huts...” The king continued rambling as the stump sat in inanimate silence.
The king was just about monologue about his fortunate in the biggest hut when a blur of robes caught his eye. “Oh, Incredulaos!” he called excitedly. “You’ve returned safe and--”
A giant shambling monstrosity shambled past him.
“Ah--”
A woman ran past in that instant, a blur of a significant lack of robes.
“...Another time then,” the king muttered with a sigh, firmly replanting himslef on his stump and returning to his happy songs.