Inspired. A work of genius. He’d seen through these fuckers! He’d worked it out. He got what they were on about, that pair of narcissistic twins in the revealing white robes. A scam. No fucking lord-of-chaos. Never was, never would be. A pair of swindlers. And a fucking good fiddle at that!
Fucking clever! Brilliant! What a way to fuck-over these naïve arseholes? This village of cretins up-top running scared at the whiff of some malevolent god? What had Conan seen with his own eyes? Food galore, offered up for free. More than enough to feed a pair of pet-monsters and plenty more to go around. For protection against some wrathful evil spirit. And a tray of jewels. EVERY FUCKING MONTH!
When it came to crime .. Conan knew there always something to learn. Life was a fulsome tutor. Just keep your eyes peeled, mix with the scum of the earth .. tutors galore showing how to screw a living out of some other dumb fucker’s hide.
And when it came to grabbing the cash, Conan was an avid learner. What a trick! Screw a village out of its food and its wealth .. EVERY FUCKING MONTH!
Conan had decided. He was going to get himself some of that. Soon as he got himself free. No slow learner, he. Conan was gonna find himself some naïve tribe of cretins. Pricks who believed in demons and things. He’d frighten the arseholes into believing. Scary? Those cretins had seen nothing yet. Who needed oversized ogres? Conan was scary enough.
Dupe the gullible arseholes in believing that the Lord of Chaos had singled them out. Picked on, his wrathful eye had picked them out. Every full moon a tribute. Or else. He’d descend on them. Conan’s alter ego. Wreaking vengeance on the negligent pricks.
Demand provisions, the best of their grub. And remember, arseholes .. only a regular tribute of gems and gold would induce the Lord of Chaos to look kindly on them. Play the game well .. who knew maybe enough tribute might convince him to leave and visit his demands on another tribe. Just keep coughing up the gold.
Move on? But only when Conan had earned enough to keep him in luxury. FUCK! How many dim-witted tribes were there out there? Pricks who believed in evil spirits. How many cocksuckers could he fool with a swindle like this?
Conan would have no need of arseholes like these HU-Man’s. He’d do the deed himself. Single-handedly he could beat the shit out of the sacrifice each month. Do it himself. If he got bored with beating the crap out of some poor motherfucker for a month .. well, in life he’d come across plenty of fucking-morons who’d lend their hand and muscle to violence .. just for the feel of a coin in their grubby palms.
Just had to get himself free. One-on-one these HU-MAN’s would be a challenge. Together .. na, not a chance. Still, a month, that “fiend” had said. A month before the next tribute was turned in and Conan was supposed to get sacrificed.
Weeks! Plenty of time. Weeks to go before those dumb tribesmen turned up with another sacrifice. Weeks to grab the chance to snap a neck or two .. if those fucking HU-MANs had a neck. Just gonna have to hang out. Put up with having the shit tortured out of him.
Fuck, it’d be worth it. Just wait his chance to get these fuckers back. Fuck it! Weeks. He had time on his side. He’d put up with hardship for months before. Time a-plenty. Weeks before the next full moon. By then Conan would have found his chance.
It’d be tough .. of course .. not fooling himself! The half-dozen times those animals had blasted a fist into his guts .. the pain had been intense. His wish to pass out had been denied. And then the crusher-fucker with his arms around him crippling the very spirit out of him .. he’d lifted Conan off the ground like a toy. Brutalised muscle in his guts was stretched. Pain retched open Conan’s mouth. Before a hammer-fist slaughtered him in the guts. In below the belly button. No protection. No defence. Tortured agony spewed flames out of Conan’s guts.
Not gonna be easy. But if Conan was anything .. he was tough, he was determined. He was singled-minded. FUCK! It was gonna be worth it in the end ………