Chiyome: We are implementing your plan. We will avenge Ito’s death!

“Carl, how are they going to get a skin? I thought NPCs couldn’t get into other people’s inventory.” We crept down the hill toward the giant kangaroo, who remained sitting there in the road, hollering at the other boss.

I almost slipped and fell on my ass after stepping on some loose hail. The ground shook.

The hailstones were getting bigger.

“Mobs can’t loot inventory, but NPCs can in certain circumstances. That’s what Mordecai says, and nobody seemed to question it when I suggested it. Remember, Dong keeps his lance in his inventory.”

Nico remained at the top of the hill with his pig. He was currently in a shouting match with his other partner, who didn’t want him to bring Penelope to the boss fight.

Because Pontiff had come with us, Nico and Penelope were no longer protected from the elements, and both were getting soaked. The pig squealed miserably every time she was hit with a chunk of hail, and I was starting to genuinely worry they were going to get killed by the elements.

The last thing we needed right now was a pissed-off god randomly showing up.

“Yeah, so,” Rapture said to me, “I’m thinking maybe we can do an alliance thing. You know, instead of us killing you next race? I know you’re loser bitchmeat weaklings, but we’ll allow you to work with us. Maybe we should get those foxes. I didn’t like the way their bear was looking at our car just as the race was about to start.”

We were interrupted before I could answer.

“Babies,” Prison Pocket the demon kangaroo said, spying us. “Come here, little babies. Let me put you in my warm, safe pouch.” He had a comical, almost offensively fake Australian accent. Like the sort of thing that would cause you to get your ass kicked by real Australians if they heard you talking like that. “Babies, let’s get you out of this rain.”

“He talks?” Donut asked, incredulous.

From the kangaroo’s pouch, the engineer guy popped his head up. He was an older human, and he wore the skin of a dead joey like it was a Halloween costume. His entire face was red and burned. He croaked for help, reaching out toward us. Multiple other dead kangaroo joeys dangled from the top of the pouch, like socks draped over a clothesline.

I pulled up my Emergency Gremlin scroll, and I read it. At the same time, Donut read the same scroll. I quickly repeated the process three more times, and in moments, we had eight bewildered gremlins in overalls standing in front of us.

All eight were different. All eight carried toolboxes with them. One had goggles on his head. One only had one eye. One had a hook for a hand.

“What’re we fixing, boss?” the eye-patch one asked me.

“Sorry, guys,” I said. We all took a few steps back.

“Whatchu mean?”

“Babies,” Prison Pocket repeated, reaching down with both hands and picking up the two closest gremlins, who started to squeal. “Small, stinky babies. Hush now. Papa’s got you. No, no. Quit your crying. Just a little dip in the ol’ pouch will set you right. So many babies. Just a little dip.”

He pulled the two screaming gremlins to his pouch and shoved them in. Even over the rain, I could hear the squelching noise. It sounded like someone shoving their fist into a deep, wet pot of runny oatmeal. A line of . . . goo . . . oozed out the top of the pouch and plopped onto the ground, where it sizzled in the rain.

“Okay, I’m gonna blow chunks,” Genesis said.

“Yo, what the fuck?” one of the remaining gremlins shouted as they scattered.

“No, little babies. Don’t run. Don’t run. Papa will keep you safe this time.”

One of the gremlins jumped off the road and started booking it toward the hills, only to get splattered by a wrecking-ball-sized chunk of hail. The red-soaked hunk of ice rolled away down the hill.

“No!” the kangaroo yelled. “No, come back! It’s not safe!”

“I really need a new job,” Pontiff grumbled.

I did my best not to feel bad about the gremlins. According to Imani, who’d already used the scroll once, they exploded when their summoning ended anyway.

“Go!” I shouted

To my right, the two womantaurs loped forward, astonishingly fast. Their job was to get me a dead joey. They would use their arm chains to do it.

Thwump, thwump! Donut shot a pair of magic missiles into the eyes of the boss, who squealed in outrage. His health went down a good bit, but he immediately brought a gremlin to his mouth, and his health fully returned.

“Naughty, fuzzy baby,” the kangaroo said as he chewed.

“Carl! Did you see that? That barely worked!”

“He’s level 170! Hang on. Keep him distracted!”

I cast Run, Little Günter, Run.

The chunky, pig-nosed kid in lederhosen appeared. His lollipop had changed color, but he otherwise looked the same as last time.

“Hi, I’m Günter!”

“Hey, kid, get that giant kangaroo!” I said, pointing.

I nodded to Pontiff, who was already in his backswing with his massive glowing mallet.

He walloped Little Günter with all of his strength.

Thud!

Pontiff let out a surprised grunt and flew back. It was as if his mallet had hit a solid wall.

“Nein! Nein!” Günter shrieked, and he turned and ran directly toward the kangaroo, who had two more gremlins in one fist and was reaching for a third with the other. The little kid ran right between the legs of Genesis, who had her arm aimed toward the kangaroo’s pouch. She fired . . .

. . . and pierced the screaming engineer guy right in the face, killing him instantly. She whooped and retracted, pulling his now-dead body toward us.

“Baby!” Prison Pocket said, seeing Günter run toward him. “Yes, yes, come to Papa! Such healthy, ruddy cheeks.”

Wham!

The moment Günter reached the kangaroo, the kid suddenly rocketed forward, the effects of the mallet strike delayed until that exact moment.

The massive kangaroo completely flipped in the air, landing on his back with an earth-shattering crunch. We all dove out of the way of his long, ridged tail.

“Here!” Genesis said, dropping the bloody dead engineer at my feet.

“Keep it down,” I yelled, pointing at the boss. “Donut, make more gremlins!”

“I’m on it!” she shouted as she summoned another. This one was a woman holding an oversized wrench. Two more appeared at the same time, and they all looked at each other, disoriented.

I examined the corpse at my feet. There was a hole the size of my fist in the middle of the man’s face.

Niels. Human. Level 35 Mechanical Engineer with a specialty in Weapons Upgrades.

This NPC was killed by Genesis the Lady Mantaur via a grappling hook to the goddamned face.

This was two of two available engineers during this heat. Neither were claimed. Better luck next time.

“You were supposed to get one of the joeys!” I shouted as I started to pull the blood-soaked costume off.

“And let you get the engineer? I don’t think so,” Genesis said.

“Yeah, just because we’re doing the temporary-ally thing don’t mean we stupid and shit,” Rapture added.

Prison Pocket was already starting to recover.

“Donut,” I said as I pulled at the corpse’s legs. My hands burned. The kangaroo skin was stuck to his body. It had built-in gloves with long, clawed nails at the end. The palm of the hand had a thick pad, like the paw of a dog. If those two idiots had gotten me one of the joeys, I would’ve had this already. “Keep the kangaroo down!”

Enchanted Juvenile Macropus Dominus Skin.

This item fills a costume slot. This can be worn as an outer garment. You might want to protect your face, though.

I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me so hard, mate.

Equipping this costume imbues the following effects:

Protection from Seeping Acid.

A level 10 Jump skill.

+5 to the Lotion Application skill.

Warning: This is a 12-hour timed item.

Slam! A giant hailstone smashed into the groaning kangaroo, who remained crumpled off the side of the road.

“My babies,” the prone kangaroo cried as he munched on another gremlin, healing himself.

“Goddamnit!” I cried as I pulled at the feet of the sticky joey skin. Next to me, the two womantaurs stood there and watched. “You can at least help!”

“This was your plan,” Genesis said.

The other kangaroo was also down. Chiyome had already gotten herself into a kangaroo costume and was flipping through the air toward the monster.

I shoved my arms into the stinking costume. I hoped my goddamned inventory would still work with this thing on. I pulled the kangaroo head over my own, and there was a loud click. A new achievement flashed.

“Carl, how did you do that?” Donut demanded.

My boxers and kneepads were now on the outside of the costume. My jacket remained on the inside, but my cloak was around my neck and flapping in the wind.

I could feel it there against my junk. It felt and smelled like my naked skin was pressed up against the body of a wet farm animal. The whole costume quivered as if it were alive.

What the hell?

Warning: Your boxer effects have been negated by your costume.

Warning: Your pedicure effects have been negated by your costume.

I pulled a banger sphere from my inventory, praying it would appear outside the costume and not in my hand, under the covering of the skin. Thankfully, the sphere appeared in the paw, though it immediately rolled away.

The boss was trying to get up. Donut hit it with another magic missile.

Even prone like this, the boss continued to heal itself. It seemed to have a never-ending supply of dead joeys to consume. It had one of the gremlins in its grip, but he squeezed too tight, and the poor monster exploded.

“Baby!” Prison Pocket called forlornly. It grasped for the scattered NPCs. One of the original gremlins dragged himself across the hail-covered grass, trailing blood. I’d missed how he’d been injured.

“I’m ready,” I called as I adjusted the costume. The wide head of the dead joey sat awkwardly atop my own head.

Okay, here we go.

I turned to run at the boss.

I promptly fell on my face.

Warning: Oh, I’m sorry. Let’s see you do this when you can’t walk. You want to be a kangaroo so bad? Then I guess you gotta act like one.

“This was your goddamned setup!” I called.

The other giant kangaroo demon exploded into mist. Dwight the unicorn, still at the top of the hill, was cheering so loudly, I could hear it from here. His bundle of vines burst off the hill and rocketed away along their track. He was followed closely by the dog, chasing after his lost riders.

I pulled my bandanna up. I prepared the two hobgoblin big boom satchels in my inventory. I looked down at my feet. At my large, sagging kangaroo feet.

I hopped.

“Yes, yes, little joey!” the boss shouted as he spied me. He remained on his back. “Come to papa’s pouch! It’s warm and safe and oh so moist!”

I leaped one more time, flying higher and farther than I’d anticipated. I landed with a splatch directly on the outside of his pouch. I tried to stand, but I couldn’t get my balance. It was like trying to walk on a waterbed.

I needed to get to the lip of the pouch, and then I had to get all the way to the bottom of the pocket, where I would drop the two satchels.

“Here, here, little one, let me help you,” Prison Pocket roared as he grabbed me.

“Gah!” I said as I was snatched up and smushed face-first into the gooey interior of the pouch.

I choked, and my face started to burn. I couldn’t see anything. Luckily, the costume came with claws, and I started to pull myself downward.

Donut: CARL, CARL, ARE YOU OKAY?

It was like trying to pull myself through warm jelly. I was in the suit, burning.

It smelled. Oh god, it smelled so bad. Like rotten meat mixed with the sharp vinegar tang of fruit juice left out too long.

I grasped, and I pulled, and pulled, and pulled, going ever deeper into the kangaroo’s pouch.

There were things in here, getting in my way, bouncing off my face. Bones. More corpses of joeys. A toolbox. I pulled, and I grasped, dragging myself down.

Donut: CARL, HE’S STANDING UP! HURRY!

I caught on to something round, and I used it as a handhold, yanking myself even more downward.

The boss’s muffled voice reverberated through the goo. I felt him pat the outside of the pouch. “Oh, you must be hungry, little lad. Don’t tickle Papa’s nips like that! You won’t be getting milk from them. But Papa always appreciates your little kisses.”

The bottom of the pouch hit me right in the face. I released the two satchels from my inventory. I couldn’t see anything, but I could still sense them there. They started to quickly degrade.

I didn’t want to do this next part to get into the pouch because I couldn’t control how deep I went, and I just knew I would’ve ended up in his stomach, unable to flee. Escaping, however . . .

I faced outward, pressed my kangaroo feet against the interior of his stomach, and I hopped as I activated Gloom Wraith Phase.

I hit the detonator in my inventory as I flew through the air. I tumbled and flipped like I’d been shot from a cannon, and I hit the ground and bounced, still rolling, asphalt ripping into the side of my face. Ice and kangaroo bits rained down around me as I rolled right off the road. Fist-sized chunks of hail continued to pummel me.

This was quickly followed by the sound of revving car engines.

I groaned and rolled onto my back as the APV and the GTO both zoomed by on the street next to me.

Multiple achievements and a level-up notification appeared, but I waved them away.

Standing over me was a gremlin.

“You can go fuck yourself,” he said as he dropped his toolbox on my stomach.

“I probably deserved that,” I said just before he timed out and exploded.

“Carl, next time we have to work together, make sure we don’t do it to our own detriment,” Donut said as I sat up. The truck sat alone at the top of the hill. “I can’t help but feel this is an apt metaphor for what always happens when we do all the heavy lifting.”

“It could be worse,” I said as I started to pull the kangaroo costume off.

Warning: Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t you read the description? I’m pretty sure I told you this is a timed item.

Heat Two. Results.

First Place: Team Sparkles.

Second Place: The Jugglers.

Third Place: Team Free Love.

Fourth Place: The Wild Hunt.

Fifth Place: Lady Dominators and the Gimp.

Sixth Place: One Fine Pig.

Seventh Place: The Royal Court of Princess Donut.

Eliminated: Girth the Trouble.