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“Miremuck, get in here, you son of a bitch!” Baronet Twirl yelled to his king, Lord Miremuck. Miremuck downtroddenly sludged his way into the room to see what Twirl was yelling about this time. You see, Miremuck and Twirl were both of a race called Blorbians, aka slime creatures that can also talk through mouths they have. They have the texture of jello, but are surprisingly sturdy creatures. It takes a solid amount of pressure to penetrate their surface, although when you do, it usually leads to near-instant death. Every Blorbian was currently residing on the island of Guckland, in the city of Glopville. This island was somewhere around there in that ocean, and was pretty rarely visited. In fact, it was completely unknown by the rest of humanity, apart from one man, Mr Mark Silverhammer, a noted scientist. He was living in the same apartment as Xylo and co, and wanted to be away from Glopville at all costs. Twirl was trying to hunt down this man and shove a spear through his head by any means necessary. This was because Mark was the creator of the Blorbians, through some mad experimental endeavor.
Life for Blorbians is hard and thoroughly unpleasant, and most have contemplated ending it all at least a few times. However, their incredibly weak, flabby nature prevented most of them from being able to go through with it. Twirl was likely the least happy Blorbian, and unfortunately, he tended to take it out on everyone else. As a baronet, his ranking was pretty low compared to many other Blorbian officials, but his superior intelligence and intimidating personality allowed him to gain the trust and fear of Miremuck, who mostly let Twirl handle administrative decisions. This is why most of the budget of Glopville went towards locating Mark, which so far was a fruitless pursuit. Twirl maintained that one day they would find him, though, and the brutal victory they would enjoy there would be worth all the trouble. Twirl didn’t add that after Mark’s demise, he would attempt to kill the rest of the population, including himself, considering that that might put off some Glopvillites from the plan.
Miremuck was standing awkwardly next to Twirl, nervous expression worn on his face. “What is… uh… going on here… Twirl?” He had a habit of putting long pauses between words when nervous.
“Stop pausing, you fuck! Did you not hear the news? Duchess Blumboop thinks she might have found where Mark is living! We can finally go nail that motherfucker!” Twirl’s voice was perpetually in a state of lividity, and he never really stopped yelling.
“Oh… really? Where… is he living?”
“I don’t fucking remember, what do I look like to you, a goddamn hyperthymesiac? Come over here, Blumboop!” Duchess Blumboop, a medium-sized purple slime (as opposed to Miremuck, a large blue slime, and Twirl, an exceedingly small gray slime (to the degree where he stayed in a petri dish most days and was transported in it by Miremuck when he needed to get around)) sludged into the room.
“What is it, Twirl?” she said professionally.
“Where was that fucker Mark living again?”
“It looks like… oh, sorry, I just remembered, we found out our computer was messed up and putting his location in the middle of the ocean due to a floating point precision error. We have no idea where he is.”
“What?!” Twirl screamed. “Are you fucking kidding me? We don’t goddamn fucking know where piece of shit fuck bitch Mark goddamn is? Ahhh! Fuck!”
“You’re taking this better than usual, Twirl,” Blumboop said. “I’ll leave you both to it.” She sludged out of the room quickly.
Twirl turned to face Miremuck. “Are we ever gonna find this fuck?!”
“Um…” Miremuck was looking down pretty hard by this point. “I… I don’t know… I’m not sure any of us care as much about this as you do…”
“Yes, none of you do! That’s the goddamn problem! I am far and away the smartest and most capable of all you worthless fucks, and that’s why you should trust me!”
“You, uh… are still fairly low-ranking, Baronet…”
“Ranking means nothing when one’s intelligence is so superior! You all would be well and thoroughly fucked without my aid! Now shut the hell up and get me a goddamn meal before I tear you apart.” Twirl delivered all this from his petri dish on the floor, but he was such a good speaker that he could convince anyone they were this close to being killed by him.
Miremuck rushed out of the room to grab something Blorbians eat (not a long list, mostly other incredibly soft foods). Twirl simmered in his dish, muttering grimly under his breath. Mark Silverhammer (and hopefully, everyone else, including himself) was going to get killed if he had anything to do with it. Thankfully, he did.