Fenn found herself laying on the ground in the white void. There was a hairy human guy with a thick beard and glasses standing over her. He offered her a hand up, and her first instinct was to kick him, but instead she took the offered hand and got to her feet.

  “So, what’s all this then?” she asked as she looked around.

  “Nothing,” said the man. He placed a hand on his sweatshirt, which had a d20 made of ice floating in water. She didn’t register that this was a ‘diceberg’ pun, which was probably for the best. “I’m the Dungeon Master.”

  “Okay,” said Fenn. “Good to meet you.” She gave the void a quick appraisal. “Are we going to stand around, or can we get some chairs?”

  The Dungeon Master snapped his fingers and two chairs appeared behind them. Fenn sat down in hers, then it felt like they were a little too far away, so she scooted her chair closer.

  “I did this with Juniper too,” the Dungeon Master began.

  “I bet he sucked at it,” said Fenn. “Sorry, go on.”

  “We’re outside the canon timeline,” said the Dungeon Master. “There’s a lot after this point that just … doesn’t happen for you, or for the outside observer, at least until after the stub. Sorry.”

  “Huh,” said Fenn. “Okay, well … fine? What do you need from me?”

  “You’re asking what I need?” asked the Dungeon Master.

  “I owe you one,” said Fenn. She slapped the armrest. “For the chair.”

  “Alright,” said the Dungeon Master. He looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling, which was as white as the rest of the place, and possibly didn’t exist. “Tell people why they should be invested in the continuing adventures of Juniper and friends.”

  “Ew,” said Fenn. “Did Juniper tell you that I was his friend?”

  The Dungeon Master rolled his eyes. “I know and see all. You’re friends.”

  “Fine, we’re technically friends,” said Fenn. She looked around. “Where am I addressing this to, where’s the audience?”

  “It’ll be delivered through text,” said the Dungeon Master. “So … anywhere.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Fenn looked at a random point in the middle distance and straightened her back, then started ticking off points. “First, we’re going to kill Larkspur. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but probably tomorrow.”

  “Not off to a great start,” said the Dungeon Master, who had leaned back in his chair.

  “I mean, we’re going to cut his stupid head off,” said Fenn. “It’s in the quest name. It’s fated.”

  “Alright, proceed,” said the Dungeon Master.

  “Well … Juniper is going to become a soul mage, and begin a slow descent into evil that he’s only going to get out of through the power of love and friendship,” said Fenn. She looked at the Dungeon Master, who was keeping a poker face. “Wait, can I just say whatever?”

  “Within reason,” said the Dungeon Master.

  “We’re going to get Grak laid,” said Fenn, watching the Dungeon Master’s face.

  “Are you?” asked the Dungeon Master. “That’s part of your plan?”

  “Oh yeah,” said Fenn. “I mean, he deserves it. In fact, we’ll get everyone laid. And maybe have a threesome?”

  “Let’s maybe cut back a little on that,” said the Dungeon Master. “It’s not really that kind of thing.”

  “Oh come on,” said Fenn. “Look, there’s a whole bunch of quests, I assume we’re going to do all of them at some point, right? Kill a bunch of enpersoned exclusions, restore Amaryllis to her rightful place as Queen of all Anglecynn, have Juniper attend college, that kind of thing. But what people really want to hear about is steamy sex scenes, right?”

  The Dungeon Master sighed loudly. “That’s not —”

  “Am I allowed to swear?” asked Fenn.

  The Dungeon Master glared at her. “No,” he said.

  “Fuck!” Fenn shouted at the top of her lungs. She gave the Dungeon Master a toothy smile. “Sorry, just testing.”

  “I’m realizing that Amaryllis would have been a better choice,” said the Dungeon Master.

  “You’re only realizing that now?” asked Fenn. She placed a hand to her mouth in mock horror. “I didn’t realize that this show was being run by a moron.”

  “See, this is your problem with authority shining through,” said the Dungeon Master. “It’s your way of taking control of a situation in which you feel powerless.”

  “Oh, that’s another thing,” said Fenn, looking off in the middle distance again, at a different place. “I have problems with authority. You should take that as a plus.”

  “Alright, I think we’re done here,” said the Dungeon Master with a sigh.

  “Wait,” said Fenn, holding up a hand. Her eyes darted around for a moment, then her lips quivered with a suppressed smile before she spoke. “Penis.”

  “That’s the bon mot you’re leaving on?” asked the Dungeon Master.

  Fenn nodded, then stopped. “Wait, I have another one.”

  “It’s just going to be ‘penis’ again, isn’t it?” asked the Dungeon Master.

  “Peni —” Fenn began, then vanished before she could finish.

  The Dungeon Master sighed heavily, then turned to look at the spot you’re reading from. “I’m not sure that was the best pitch, but hopefully it will suffice.”