Interlude Zero One

Stygian rejoiced as he finally broke off the last segment of dried up vomit that had formed to his body like armor plating. He had made use of a chisel to break off the large majority of it and finally he could continue the cleaning process, sure the lowest class of the growing town would have to suffer that once it hit their drinking water but then he lived further uphill, in a tent hidden within the branches of a tree.

He was a paranoid schizophrenic, at least that's what the doctors had said when he was young... bastards were always out to get him! Which, along with the fact that he was a pathological psychopath, had not helped at all during his attempt to integrate into normal society.

He had made use of the public trough in which they bathed the citizens by force once a week, he didn't want to sully his own lake so this was the best option available.

"How goes it Stygiant!" A familiar voice called to him from above.

Looking up the war pony scowled. "It's Stygian!"

"Sorry..." JenkinsRevenge, their glorious leader actually managed to forge a look of apology. "Stygina... how goes your mission?"

"I got sicked on by a bunch of hungover drunks," Stygian answered in a voice that spoke levels about how much that displeased him.

Jenkins didn't even want to think about that image, though he couldn't help but give a snicker. "Sounds... unpleasant."

"You think?"

"So the missions going well then!" Jenkins was pleased.

Stygian shook his head. "Hey boss... everyone else gets to make a complaint I was wondering if I do too?"

Jenkins removed his attention from the dirt he had almost stepped onto and pulled back so as to circulate around while remaining solidly on the marble stairs leading to his palace. "Sorry what?"

With a deep sigh the black coated stallion got to the point of the issue. "Look boss, I don't get paid enough for this..."

"I pay you!?" Jenkins exclaimed in shock.

Stygian frowned, he hated being interrupted. "I don't mind traipsing off on one of your murder sprees, in fact I love them..."

"Who doesn't!" Jenkins smiled dreamily, a faraway look in his eyes.

"...but I didn't sign up to get puked on by two percent of B0NER's population."

"I wondered what that smell was," Jenkins nodded sympathetically. "I remember this rave I went to once, if I hadn't been as quick as I was and not used my ex-girlfriend as a shield I too would have suffered a similar fate."

"I see why she became your ex," Stygian rolled his eyes.

"Well yes," JR shrugged. "You're doing a marvelous job and I just want to say keep it up!"

"Yes sir," Stygian muttered. "Thank you sir."

"You're welcome!" Jenkins, king of B0NER beamed. "Be pleasant to the peasants that's what my adviser always says!"

"When did you get an adviser?" Stygian asked, pausing in his dunks once more.

"You met them this morning," Jenkins explained.

Stygian gave Jenkins one of those slow nods that doctors give their mentally disturbed patients, as the memory of his leader speaking to himself surfaced like a missing moment of alcohol induced forgetfulness the minister of defense wondered if moving here was the right thing to do after all.

"Very good sir," Stygian answered correctly.

"I shall leave you to it!" Jenkins nodded as if he had benevolently granted his mercy upon something he had already forgotten about.

Stygian watched Jenkins leave with a wistful expression, the lunatic reminded the old war pony of his third commanding officer, the one Stygian had allowed to live under the circumstance that Stygian had murdered his entire family and wanted the fool to live in eternal misery.

He had perhaps gone too far that time... or was it not far enough? Stygian shrugged and continued his bath, he had time for such thoughts later.

Author's Note

DERP DERP DERP
I LIKE A DA BATH HERP DERP!