Fire Bromblem

[Star Brom]

Star Brom festively presents

the festively epic masterpiece

Fire Bromblem

Prologue: An Unfestive Welcome

The 666 mayoral election of Ohma, Crimea was underway. Banners were plastered all over the village, advertising the two main frontrunning platforms. Supporters of the Brom Party proudly displayed their Brom/Danved '66 flags, their Brom/Danved '66 fags, their Brom/Danved '66 axes, their Brom/Danved '66 lances, their Brom/Danved '66 swords, their Brom/Danved '66 tomes, their Brom/Danved '66 torches, their Brom/Danved '66 pitchforks, their Brom/Danved '66 staves, their Brom/Danved '66 bows, their Brom/Danved '66 trebuchets, their Brom/Danved '66 guillotines, their Brom/Danved '66 face paint, their Brom/Danved '66 butt paint, their Brom/Danved '66 belly paint, their Brom/Danved '66 breakfast cereals, their Brom/Danved '66 lunchboxes, their Brom/Danved '66 backpacks, their Brom/Danved '66 boogers, their Brom/Danved '66 hats, their Brom/Danved '66 shirts, their Brom/Danved '66 underwear, their Brom/Danved '66 Plushes, their Brom/Danved '66 bumper stickers for their horse-drawn carts, and their Brom/Danved '66-themed Viagra bottles. Supporters of the Generic Villager Party, who had nominated Generic Villager #2 for mayor and Generic Villager #3 for mayoral peon after Generic Villager #1 had tragically died from an overdose of generic medications, quietly awaited their inevitable loss.

The pre-election debate went smoothly for the Brom Party, after Generic Villager #2 fell unconscious for no apparent reason. Some witnesses claim that Generic Villager #2 had started to give an eloquent speech in favor of expanding basic rights towards generic people, for instance, the right to have a name. He was beginning to tell a story about how he had always wanted to be named Dolores since he had been a Generic Little Boy, but Brom hit him over the head with a bottle of Brom's Festive Temptation and then said, i win agin

These witnesses were festively stoned for their insolence.

The balloting then began. Even though Brom, Meg, and Nephenee were the only non-generic characters from Ohma, just about every FE9 and FE10 character was present so that The Author had an excuse use any of them in the plot, which would not be in Tellius much longer. The only ones not present were Ike, Mist, Soren, and Micaiah. The Publishing Company then fired The Author for these plot giveaways, but the story continued to be told, because it was a story so great that it was capable of telling itself even if no one was being paid to write it down. And, trust mee, it wouldn't be written down unless He Who Did the Writing was being paid to Do the Writing.

Anyways, Brom was declared the winner, and the most festive celebration in the festive and celebratory history of festive celebrations festively began.

i win agin

Brom then festively shouted, "As mah first act as mayor, this town is officially renamed Brohma!"

Danved added, "And as Danved's first act as mayoral peon, Danved shall give birth to one of Brom's children!" Brom and Danved then had sexual relations, and Danved became pregnant.

The entire village beat their bellies and piously shouted "Brom!" ten times, except for one Generic Woman, whose tenth shout of "Brom!" was not as pious as her first nine, so Brom pointed at her and festively exclaimed, "Thou dost shameth mee, o infertile woman!" and she was festively stoned for her insolence.

"As mah second act as mayor of Brohma, I officially rename the office of mayor as Grand Holy Emperor Brom which has a life term, and all positions lower than Grand Holy Emperor Brom are hereby known as Eternal Servant of Grand Holy Emperor Brom!" festively hooted the festive feuhrer.

While the villagers cheered festively and shouted "Brom!" piously, Danved gave birth to Billy Dee Williams, Seventieth Son and Ninety-First Child of Brom. In celebration of the birth of Billy Dee Williams, Brom festively announced, "As mah third act as Grand Holy Emperor Brom of Brohma, anyone who voted for the Generic Villager Party shall be festively stoned!"

The villagers shouted in agreement to the festive righteousness of this declaration, and so the tally was revealed:

The search began for the felonious felon who dared voted aginst the scared pact that was the Brom Party. The prime suspects were Generic Villager #2, Generic Villager #3, and Volke. The interrogations went like this:

Brom: Generic Villager #3! Did either you or Generic Villager #2 vote for the Generic Villager platform?

Generic Villager #3: No, we should both be excused from suspicion.

Brom: Why? Is it because Generic Villager #2 was unconscious, and therefore unable to vote?

Generic Villager #3: No, it's because both of us were always staunch supporters of the Brom Party!

Brom then became sober enough to realize that both of them had been wearing Brom/Danved '66 shirts since this story began, and they were excused.

Brom: Volke! The culprit must be you! I will stare at you until you confess your sin!

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Brom: Damn, you really are good.

Suddenly, baby Billy Dee Williams began floating in the air. At first, he was praised because he must have been overcome with the glory of Brom. However, the entire universe was overcome with horror as the force lifting him, which was the same force that had cast that one awful ballot, made itself visible. Fading in was a bluish being that floated upside-down, and the creases of his face turned white instead of dark. He held Billy Dee Williams in his demonic, unfestive arms, and gave out his demonic, unfestive battle cry:

NIGA NIW I

Brom knew Morb would then disappear like a coward, instead of staying and sending lobbyists to convince the enemy's politicians to filibuster any war-related legislation like a real man. However, he did not expect Morb to resurrect his servant, Valtome, from the dead to distract him from arbitrarily guessing where Morb had teleported to.

"Uwee hee hee!" cackled Valtome, "Ever since Zelgius dumped me (the crowd gasped in horror as Valtome had said 'mee' with only one e, which the Bromble lists as one of the 7 Billion Deadly Sins) I've devoted my life to exterminating all of you fat fuck-armored types, and why not help my master Morb steal the newborn son of the biggest, fattest, fuck-est, armored-est, typist of all: Brom!"

Brom and Zelgius festively cried in unison, "We're not fat!" and shared a tub of Ben and Jerry's as they wept softly.

Morb had known that they would gang up on Valtome, and that only one gay zombie bishop did not possess enough power to cast the mighty forbidden Plot Twist spell. That's why a demonic and unfestive rift in the Fire Embleverse opened, and out stepped a past FE character who was a perfect match for Valtome.

"And I've found a boyfriend who's twice the woman Zelgius will ever be: introducing Magvel's resident gay zombie bishop, Riev! Uwee hee hee!"

Suddenly, Riev and Valtome burst out into a gay zombie bishop show tune, kicking up their hairy, decaying legs to reveal that they were wearing high heels.

We've been searching

oh so very long

for another fella

who wore a purple thong

now that we're together, we're...

I-N-V-I-N-C-I-B-L-E!

Suddenly, their gay zombie bishop show tune turned into a hybrid between a cheerleading routine and Thriller. Some audience members began shouting out their disgust.

Leonardo: "Boo!"

Leonardo equipped Stale Tomato.

Numida: "We want Duke Ellington!"

Generic Old Man: "You're a Communist!"

Gatrie: "This blackens the name of musical theater almost as much as Spiderman: The Musical!"

Gatrie then began belting out a number from Sweeney Todd, the only good musical that will mentioned in this story, to drown out the gay zombie bishop cacophony. He had always wanted to play the title role, but in the Greil Mercenaries production, he was cast as Mrs. Lovett.

Brom, ever in the festive spirit of Fire Emblem, said, "Let us stand here and watch until our foes cast a spell instead of attacking them because the computer says they have a higher speed rating than mee!"

Riev and Valtome stopped singing and dancing and began chanting in unison. They knew that they had to cast the spell before the Swordmasters began recovering from their hangovers.

"PLOT TWIST! SPREAD THESE TELLIANS ALL OVER MAGVEL AND RUIN THE STORY OF FE8! UWEE HEE HEE!"

Suddenly, Brom found himself stumbling, bumbling, tumbling, grumbling, fumbling and mumbling in the darkness.

Edited March 17, 2012 by Star Brom

[Star Brom]

Chapter 1: The Big, The Brown, and The Brombly

Generic Villager #2 regained consciousness. He sat up and saw he was in a forest. He could see faint traces of light coming in from the distance, and began shuffling drunkenly towards it. He discovered that the source of the light was a sword was stuck in the ground, and there was a voice beckoning him to take it.

I am the legendary Gilgamesh, the voice said, and this is my legacy, the mighty mighty blade Excalipur. Finish what I hath started.

"But I don't wanna," whined the Generic Villager, "And if this blade is so mighty..."

MIGHTY Mighty!

"If this blade is so mighty mighty, then why are you dead?"

Because I didn't have a hilt, so I plunged it heroically into the ground before I went for a few drinks with my friends. But a few drinks turned into a lot of drinks, so I had a brutal hangover the next day. I tried to soothe my headache with some Bromoxx^tm, but then everything went dark for no apparent reason!

Generic Villager #2 wanted the guy to shut up very badly, so he pulled the mighty mighty sword out of the ground...

[align=center]---[/align]

Brom woke up and looked around. His unfamiliar surroundings, absent of his many lovers, dampened his festive mood. "We're not in Brohma anymore," he festively bumbled to himself, "better start praying."

Brom pulled out a copy of the Bromble that he kept between his fourth and fifth love handles, and turned to the book of Oddly Specific Prayers, Chapter 31. "Star Brom, The Lord of Lard, shall protect mee and send mee a sign, preferably a disgruntled FE8 character who will help mee take over Magvel and rename it the Holy Broman Empire."

Star Brom, who was Lord of Lard and Festive Feuhrer of all, parted the cotton candy clouds to see the piety of Brom, and thus rewarded him for remembering to pray piously to himself. He rolled across the sugared heavens, causing great thundering, to Grado keep, and inspected the one He deemed worthy for this magnanimous task.

"Lyon, I'm telling you, you need to get over this Eirika girl. She may act like a princess, but underneath she's a blue-haired slut. I knew girls like her in High School. I was even friends with some of them. Your father-"

"Father, you are my father."

Emperor Vigarde had finally made the finishing touches on his new dress, and was now applying his makeup. He had been struggling with gender confusion for many years, but it had gotten significantly worse in the past three months. He was now convinced that he was Veronica, Empress of Grado, and Lyon's mother. Grado's finest shamans could not heal him, and even the Sacred Stone of Grado was not enough. Lyon was seriously considering invading other countries and stealing their Sacred Stones so that he could heal his father, but had held back because he was hoping he could obtain the Sacred Stone of Renais through more peaceful means. However, his courtship of Eirika had failed, even after seven bottles of Brom's Festive Temptation. Lyon was now hellbent on destroying Renais and killing Fado, whom he believed raised his daughter to believe that her life was devoted to rubbing his chronically itchy feet, which was one of the many genetic defects that had plagued the royal family of Renais for centuries because evil warlocks were jealous of their inbreeding ways and cursed them. If Fado perished, than Eirika would need to devote her life to something else, and Lyon would tell her that Fado believed that after his death, Eirika should devote her life to giving birth to Lyon's children.

While Lyon conspired and Vigarde exfoliated in the royal chamber, Knoll was trying to figure out a way to get more juice out of the Sacred Stone of Grado. He still believed that he could cure the Emperor with only one Stone, because he was only a few more reboots away from installing Windows 7. He had no idea what Lyon was planning, because he tl;dr'd that last paragraph. Suddenly, the voice of Brom called to him.

meet mee in the forest

"I have no idea what that means, but I should totally go wander around in some random forest!" declared Knoll.

i win agin

Knoll then wandered around in some random forest for many long minutes, until he was tempted to return to the Sacred Stone so he could check his Facebook status. However, he knew that such a demonic and unfestive idea was sent to him telepathically by the foul Morb Rats. He continued on and on and on and on and on and on and suddenly he heard a festive high-pitched scream:

WAAAAH! AH CANT FIND MAH BUDEEZ AN' MAH BELLY IS RUMBLEE BECAUSE AH HAVEN'T EATED FOR FIVE MINUTES AN' AHM SO HUNGREE AN' THIS THUNDER IS SCARIN' MEE!

Knoll ran towards the voice until he reached a clearing, because when important characters meet in a forest, it's always in a clearing. "Don't worry, little girl, I'll save you!" he shouted heroically.

However, he realized that even though the source of the voice sounded like a little girl, it was not, in fact, a little girl. It was, in fact, Brom, also known as Star Brom, Brom of Brom's Bistro, Bom, Stah Bom, Brom, Father of Meg, Brom, Lover of Meg, Brom the Son of Brom, Brom the Son of Brom and Meg, FE9 Brom, FE10 Brom, Mayor Brom of Brohma, Grand Holy Emperor Brom of Brohma, Lord of Lard, Festive Feuhrer, That Annoying Fat Fuck, Grand Holy Emperor Brom, Grand Holy Emperor Brom of the Holy Broman Empire, Holy Broman Emperor, Titania, Vaan the Maan, Chevrolet Astro, astrovaan@aol.com, Brom Loves You ♥, Brom Loves Butt ♥, Brom Loves Turkey ♥, Звезда Бром ♥, and the Grandest, Holiest, Emperor-iest, Brombliest Grand Holy Emperor Brom in the Grand, Holy, Emperor-y, and Brombly history of Grand Holy Emperor Broms!

"All of those titles must mean this Brom fellow is a very important person, and that I should kneel in his presence!" said Knoll, kneeling before Brom.

"Rise, O kneeling person, and tell mee thy name!"

Knoll rose. "My name is Knoll, and Windows 7 was my idea!"

"Alright, Knoll, you and mee are going to lead the army of generic soldiers that just randomly appeared and take them thar castle!"

So Brom and Knoll led the army of generic soldiers that just randomly appeared towards them thar castle, but Knoll was confused. Them thar castle looked like Renais Castle! How long have I been wandering around in this random forest? he thought.

Suddenly, an army of blue generic soldiers poured out of Renais Castle and began fighting Brom and Knoll's army of brown generic soldiers. Brom and Knoll mowed through them with ease, because Knoll had stolen Gleipnir and Garm from Grado's treasury before he left.

[align=center]-Flashback Time-[/align]

Knoll walked up to Generic Knight #5, who was guarding the treasury. Knoll asked if he could borrow Gleipnir and Garm, and Generic Knight said no. Then Knoll said please and Generic Knight #5 said, well, alright.

"That was a lame flashback," said Blue Generic Soldier #1. Knoll responded by killing Blue Generic Soldier #1 with a critical, even though he was already ridiculously overpowered. Blue Generic Soldier #2 ran back towards the castle, so he could ask King Fado for a promotion.

In the castle, King Fado was sitting on his throne while riding his horse, because that's what royal Paladins do. Blue Generic Soldier #2 came running into the throne room.

"King Fado! King Fado! Generic Soldier #1 has died! Can I be Generic Soldier #1 now?"

"Sure thing, Generic Soldier #1. How'd he die? Was it another Bromoxx^tm overdose?"

"No, there's just a vastly superior army attacking the castle."

"Oh, I see. Are we starting the plot of FE8 again?"

"No, sir. The soldiers don't look like they're from Grado. I think the plot is being altered agin."

"Good God, not another hack! Is nothing Sacred for these people?"

"I'm afraid, sir, this is even worse than a hack. It's... a fanfic. And a satirical one at that."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Sir?"

"Please tell mee Seth and Eirika have left the castle already, so that they may escape this plot-altering army!"

"They have, sir, but I'm afraid that Seth and your children are no longer the main characters of FE8."

"What?!"

"You see, sir, FE8 is now Fire Bromblem, not Sacred Stones, and since there are a lot more characters now, that means that Eirika, Ephraim and Seth will not show up until later in the plot as minor comic relief characters because it's much more interesting to write about characters that weren't developed or weren't even in this game before!"

"What can we do about this?!"

"That's up to you, m'lord, I'm about to be killed."

Suddenly, Brom and Knoll burst into the throne room and killed Generic Soldier #1. Fado was horrified.

"GENERIC SOLDIER #1! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Knoll puffed out his chest and said with authority, "Surrender, Fado, or face the wrath of His Brombliness!"

"Knoll? I thought yous was a brutha!"

"No. I could have been one of FE8's most interesting characters, yet I come in relatively late in the game and only get a few lines! But as the personal assistant to the greatest Fire Emblem character of all time, I am extremely important! Also, being on Brom's side in this fanfic means you're ridiculously overpowered!"

"Well, if you can change your fate, so can I! I'll escape now instead of being killed like I usually am, since I'm the king of the five-time winner of Magvel Magazine's Easiest Country to Invade Award! I'll find my children, restore them as FE8's lords again, avenge the death of that Generic Soldier, and most importantly, I will finish a Nicholas Sparks novel without crying!"

And then Fado galloped away while Brom and Knoll just stood there. Knoll inquired, "Why did we let him get away so easily?"

Brom, ever wise and festive, answered, "I felt sorry for the dang fool. He couldn't even say agin right."

[Aere]

what did I just read.

[Eail]

What the fuck did I just read?

[Star Brom]

what did I just read.

All discussion should take place here: http://serenesforest.net/forums/index.php?showtopic=31187

[Star Brom]

Chapter 2: It's The Third Chapter And We Haven't Even Gotten Through FE8's First Cutscene!

(Note to the reader: the following section in italics was written on a different forum, where it became a pinned thread)

Hello, there. As a pinned thread, Fire Bromblem now has exclusive rights to do the following:

1. Claim to be a pinned thread truthfully

2. Pretend that stupid noobs mistake this for a rule thread or guide thread and become very confused after only the first paragraph.

3. Have 15% more fiber than the leading brand.

Thank you for listening and we hope you enjoy tonight's chapter.

The announcer walks off the stage and the cameramen switch back to the Renais Castle set.

Renais Castle is very peaceful, and it so quiet that the trotting of Fado's horse can be heard in the distance. A butterfly flies by. Its wings are decorated with intricate bands of brown and dark yellow, giving it the nickname Winged Diarrhea. The scientist who named it literally did it for shits and giggles. Now, let us examine this banana slug. It is slowly and quietly making its way across the forest floor. Observe how the banana slug retains its moisture, even as it slinks over dried leaves and sticks. You imagine this paragraph being read by Ben Stein. You think Fuck, this boring, and go do something else.

i win agin

"Are they gone yet?"

"I think so. Quickly! Get Valter on set before they come back, wondering if the post was edited to make it more exciting!"

The two stage managers ran to Valter's dressing room. They demanded that Valter start filming. Valter replied, "I want to, but my dragon's agent told him that the person writing this story would have quit before he came in, so he's still getting blazed back in his trailer."

"If the both of you aren't on site in five minutes, you'll both be FIRED from this story! KAPEESH?!"

Valter looked bewildered. "Wait a second, why do we need a film crew? This is a fanfic, not a movie!"

Suddenly, the sets and film crews disappeared, and Valter was soaring through the skies on his dragon instead of in his dressing room. And in Fire Emblem terminology, flying through the skies means hovering a few feet off the ground so that one can effectively communicate with any grounded units present in the cutscene. Accompanying him were Pugo, O'Neill, and a couple of generic bandits.

They had finally arrived at Renais Castle, waiting outside because they knew Brom and Knoll wouldn't stay long enough to solidify their headquarters, nor would they even stay long enough to redecorate the place, even though medieval and dreary were sooooooooooo last Tuesday morning! Instead, they would randomly run outside the castle and meet Valter and his cronies, since that was what happened in the failed hack and The Author was too lazy to think of something different.

Brom and Knoll came randomly running out of Castle Renais, saying, "We should meet Valter and his cronies, since that was what happened in the failed hack and The Author was too lazy to think of something different!"

Valter stopped them in their tracks and shouted, as loudly as he could, "Brom! We meet at last! I've been waiting for this day ever since I read the last chapter and discovered you had attacked Renais Castle before Grado was scheduled to do so! Do you realize that we had to cancel our 9:00 meeting because you invaded three hours early? We even had to cross out "Attack Renais Castle" on the Noon slot in our Official Grado Planners! That was very inconvenient! VERY INCONVENIENT!"

Knoll tried to reconcile him. "I thought you were late because you were daydreaming about being a pothead movie star agin, even though you know fully well that pot was excluded from Fire Emblem to retain its E Rating. By the way, no one uses those stupid planbooks anyway."

"And YOU, Knoll! I'm arresting you for treason aginst the Emperor of Grado, you have the right to remain silent and the right to have an attorney be executed alongside you; anything you say or do will not save you from being drawn and quartered or having children dance happily on your grave afterwards. And, by the way, (this he said in a mocking tone) I happen to like the planbook cover's floral design." With this, Valter told Pugo to tie Knoll's wrists with a rope.

Brom protested. Actually, he swung Garm at Valter, festively shouting:

BEHOLD MAH OVAPOWAH'D POWAH AND 101% CHANCE OF HITTING!

Valter laughed. "Foolish festive feuhrer! I am Prologue Valter, the Impossible to Hit!"

Brom festively gasped as his swing missed Valter and the word Miss! appeared above their heads in fancy lettering. Not deterred, Brom festively chopped off Knoll's binds, which were not Impossible to Hit like Prologue Valter, but were, in fact, Shitty Ass Rope Because Handcuffs Weren't Invented Yet. Brom and Knoll then rolled and ran away respectively.

"Curses!" cursed Valter, "Even though I am a Wyvern Master and therefore could catch a heavily armored fat man and a scrawny shaman who probably has anemia or asthma or something with incredible ease, I shall send out the O'Neill, since he is still the first boss of FE8, according to The Complete and Authoritative Guide to Commonalities Between Fire Bromblem and the Sacred Stones."

Pugo gave out a shriek and ran to O'Neill's side. "Please, not O'Neill! We are to be married!"

O'Neill calmly stated, "Pugo, dearest, I'm afraid this is something I must do, for I have some sort of misguided pride in being from Grado, even though I'm probably just some random dumbass mercenary who would fight alongside Dozla and L'Arachel for the right price."

And thus Valter sent out O'Neill, and after much pleading from Pugo, also sent with him some valuable protection: the two generic bandits who were even weaker than O'Neill was. Valter, fed up with Pugo's womanliness, told him, "I am fed up with your womanliness, Pugo! Man up, man!"

Pugo then decided that he needed to make himself seem more manly, so he pulled out a pack of Virginia Slims, because self-destructive habits are badass. However, he realized that lighters hadn't been invented either, so he groped Valter's dragon until it started breathing fire.

Meanwhile, Brom and Knoll had reached a narrow mountain pass, which looked like a very convenient place for a small skirmish. Brom festively observed, "Wow, this narrow mountain pass looks like a very convenient for a small skirmish!"

Because they had stopped for Brom's festive observance, O'Neill and the generic bandits (which sounds like a band name) caught up to them. Brom festively turned around and said, "Let us attack O'Neill and the Generic Bandits, even though that sounds like a band name!"

Now, children, let us introduce you to Fire Bromblem's INNOVATIVE Battle System. Instead of describing the grisly passion of the battlefield with detail so masterful that it would make War and Peace look like, well, Fire Bromblem, it will instead work like an internet transcription of support conversations that FE fanboys like to do, because it is INNOVATIVE!

Generic Bandit #1: *gets Gleipnir'd by Knoll and is thrown into Generic Soldier #2 so hard that he impales him*

Generic Bandit # 2: Uhffff! *is impaled by Generic Soldier #1's flying corpse*

Brom: [festively] Huff! Puff! *beheads O'Neill*

O'Neill's Head: Pugo... My love... *dies*

O'Neill's Body: *bleeds a lot but is censored to retain game's E Rating* *dies*

Brom and Knoll stood over the defeated, a festive air of victory about them. Suddenly, Elincia, Sigrun, Marcia, Vanessa, Syrene, Tana, and Thany came down and giggled and wiggled and jiggled along with them. "Whoa," exclaimed Brom in festive amazement, "did our party just become incredibly unbalanced with the addition of several members of Fire Emblem's most fapped-to class, the Pegasus Knights? And Est... What is Est doing here? I thought this was purely a Tellius-Magvel crossover!"

Thany explained, "We were hiding this entire time, because we're dumb whores and we forgot that those guys don't get bows until they promote. As for mee, I am here because Nergal and Athos casted Plot Twist during a meeting of Elibe Characters for the Being Included in the Fire Bromblem, ECBIFB."

Knoll, always inquisitive, inquired, "Could you name some of the Elibian characters that you believe have been transported to Magvel? How did y'all (Brom was beginning to festively rub off on him) find each other? Also, don't we need Tanith to complete our set of Pegasus Knights?"

Thany explained further, "I am unsure of who has been brought here, mostly because any characters from Elibe will only appear in this story if the author feels like making fun of them."

"We found each other by meeting in the officially designated meeting place of the Pegasus Riding Women of Unusual Hair Color. Tanith was kicked out years ago because her hair color was deemed Not Unusual Enough," added Sigrun. With each word, Sigrun's magnificent breasts bounced inside her magnificent white armor, until The Author stopped writing for an hour because he was overcome with the desire that Sigrun was real, so that he could coat her from head to toe in honey and pretend he was a Bromblebee for the next month or so.

(Goodbye, feminist readers. You're welcome, lesbians!)

The band festively continued on, whistling that tune from The Bridge on the River Kwai. A few hours later, Valter and Pugo showed up to inspect the damage. Pugo saw O'Neill's body and, well, you know what happens next...

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!

Valter's dragon was shocked, too. How could the three weakest characters in the story be defeated by two of the strongest characters in the story? All three of them knew three was more than two. They had learned it back at Grandma Gharnef's School for Little Villains! Pugo was reconciled by one thing: his fiancée still had an unopened pack of Virginia Slims in his back pocket.

You got An Unopened Pack of Virginia Slims

"Good riddance," Valter muttered under his breath, "I've always been more of a Copenhagen guy myself."

"ELINCIA!" A voice sounded, coming closer, "ELINCIA! I NEED TO RESCUE YOU SO WE CAN RETURN TO CRIMEA AND MAKE BABIES!"

"OSCAR!" Another voice sounded, also coming closer, "OSCAR! I NEED TO FIND YOU SO WE CAN BE RIVALS AGIN!"

Pugo, who had always been scared of loud noises, ran off in terror as Geoffrey and Kieran clopped onto the scene.

"Curses!" cursed Valter, "My incompetent henchman has run off! Now I must find more incompetent henchmen!"

"Hello!" shouted Geoffrey in an inappropriately loud voice, "My name is Geoffrey, I am seemingly a noble and chivalrous knight, but I really just want to get into Elincia's pants, thus making mee perfect for the position of incompetent henchman!"

"Hello!" shouted Kieran in an equally inappropriate loud voice, "My name is Kieran, and my goal in life is to be rivals with Oscar, thus making mee perfect for the position of incompetent henchman!"

"Your voices are inappropriately loud," said Valter, "But I guess I'll hire you because you aren't quite as incompetent as my last incompetent henchman. He smoked Virginia Slims, for Brom's sake!"

"Virginia Slims?! HA! HA HA! HA HA HA HA HA! Everyone knows the smart man's cigarette is Camel! 4 out of 5 1950s doctors smoke it!" cajoled Geoffrey.

Kieran also cajoled, "Yeah! 1950s doctors! I love 1950s doctors! Almost as much as I love being Oscar's rival! Once, when my mom was pregnant with my brother, our local 1950s doctor prescribed her thalidomide and BOOM! No more morning sickness for her! Ain't that right, bro?" he asked his horse. His brother answered:

Valter, Geoffrey and Kieran then set up for the night, cajoling each other about Elincia and being Oscar's rival. Valter even let out a few hearty MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAs! The horses and dragons stood there stupidly in the background. After a few rounds of Bromoxx^tm, the trio was off into a pleasant dream world where the Pegasus Knights who had just joined Brom and Knoll's party were having a massive lesbian orgy.

[Star Brom]

Chapter 3: The Foul-Colored Goodfellows

The sun rose on Magvel, giving Brom's morning dump a golden-brown glow. Knoll was hungry, but they had no Fire Mages to start a fire to cook their breakfasts with, so they just sat around and whined.

"Ahm hungry," festively whined Brom.

"If we had food, I would just force myself to puke it up after I ate it, but I still wish we had some," complained Tana.

Some other female character was about to complain about this story's light-hearted approach to eating disorders, when suddenly a gay zombie ran by and kidnapped Tana.

"Rainbow Warrior Power! WOOOOO!" shouted Caellach.

"Wow! Ah totally had no idea Caellach was coming towards us!" festively announced Brom.

"Really? I've BEEN shouting, 'I AM A RAINBOW WARRIOR AND I WILL KIDNAP TANA AND TAKE HER TO A CASTLE SO POORLY GUARDED THAT YOU'LL TAKE IT BEFORE I HAVE A CHANCE TO RAPE HER! WOOOOO!' for about the past five minutes when I was running toward your camp!"

Caellach then took Tana to a castle that looked like a very nice place to stay the night at only a few feet away from Brom and Co.'s campsite. A few incredibly weak-looking enemies came out to guard it.

"Knoll!" Brom ordered festively, "Go inspect the enemy troops and devise a brilliant strategy that shall lead us to victory!"

Knoll walked a few feet over to the group of enemies guarding the castle and observed that they were all generic soldiers. He asked of them, "Where is your boss? Every level in Fire Emblem needs to have a generic boss with a face to make him seem non-generic and create the illusion of a plot that isn't manufactured!"

"We have one," said one of the generic soldiers, "Two, in fact. But they're inside, arguing over whose armor is uglier. I'll go fetch them, in case you could help them solve it."

The generic soldier ran into the castle, and a few festive minutes later, Brom came over to see what was takin' so long.

"What's takin' so long? Ahm hungree!" festively whimpered Brom as he festively beckoned a rather fat young generic Knight to come over to him, "Why's a fine, nice, young, plump and juicy morsel like you guardin' this here castle? Shouldn't you be at home... fattening yourself?"

"I was born a humble farmer boy, and had the hard life as a humble farmer boy, yet for some reason I was always as fat as fuck, so I decided I might be able to lose some weight if I stood here guarding this here poorly-guarded castle," replied the generic Knight.

"Ah feel yer pain, ah do," said Brom in a festive Arkansas accent, "Here, have some Bromoxx^tm fer yer troubles."

The generic knight took the Bromoxx^tm, and began to run around, feeling great, until he tripped and one of the festive side effects took hold. He rolled around on the ground, rapidly growing in girth. Brom stood by watching festively, but once the knight had quadrupled in size the Lord of Lard could not resist any longer. He festively grabbed a hold of the knight's left leg with his mouth and lifted him up in the air. He shook him around, causing gravity to help the knight slip further into Brom's gullet, and Brom's mouth slowly closed in around him. When Brom felt his two lips come together agin, he knew he had fully enveloped the knight. He smacked his lips a few times to enhance the flavor, took a long, deep, festive breath and...

GULP

But Brom was not finished. There was great giggling, wriggling, jiggling and wiggling, and Brom knew he would not be able to stand as long as the knight struggled inside him. He laid down and laughed, overcome with ecstasy at the fact that he had bestowed upon the knight the most pleasurable death possible: one inside the blessed bowels of Brom. Fifteen festive minutes later, the giggling, wriggling, jiggling and wiggling stopped, and Brom slowly stood up, feeling the freshly dead corpse slide from the end of his esophagus into his stomach, which is when it becomes official that the knight will only see the light of day agin in the form of feces, because the esophagus is the only place where it is possible to get Brom to regurgitate you. He festively patted his bulbous belly and let out an

i win agin

as the Generic Soldier finally emerged from the castle, flanked by Danved and Breguet.

"I do say, my armor has come in last place in every armor competition ever since the nudists got their own class!"

"Yeah, but Danved has not been around for these armor competitions. Just wait until judges get look at Danved's clown hair and clown armor combo!"

"Fellows, fellows," chided Knoll, "Your conflict will be settled by the reinforcements that are about to appear!"

Just then, Franz, Gilliam and Titania appeared. Franz said, "Thanks, Titania, for filling in for Seth after he disappeared. I don't know what I'd do without a Jeigan to boss mee around! Now that we've found the party, let's gallop towards them!"

Gilliam said, "Wait! My move rating is horrible, especially compared to you paladins, so you need to delay your recruitment so the party doesn't leave before the several turns I need just to get across the damn map!"

Gilliam was ignored.

Danved and Breguet took one look at Franz and immediately agreed that his armor was much uglier than theirs hoped to be. To avoid a plot hole, Franz explained that he never felt like entering those armor competitions, he was too tired from long days of being bossed around by Jeigans.

Titania, Danved, Breguet, and Franz joined the party!

The remaining generic soldiers saw how hopeless their plight was, and one of them happened to be a Fire Mage, so they just locked themselves in the castle and burned it down. Meanwhile, Tana was tied to a bed, naked, while Caellach monologued...

"In the original FE8, our time together was cut short. At first it didn't seem that bad, since dumb hoes like you are the kind that keep bothering mee once I've knocked you up. But then I got killed later in the plot, without getting laid! Do you know how badly I was teased for being the only virgin in the Dead Villain Lounge? It was so unbearable that the game designers had to bring mee back to life once the game's main plot had been beaten! But now, with the plot being turned on its head, I can do whatever I want, which means I will lose my virginity, and more importantly, impregnate you so that you aren't horrifically skinny, giving feminists one less thing to bitch about! What do you think about that?!"

Tana sighed, "Your coat is on fire."

Caellach screamed and jumped out the window, rolling around on the ground until the flames stopped. He assessed the damage and realized his outfit now looked like it did in the original FE8, for all the colorful trimmings that his gay zombie bromrades Valtome and Riev had been burned off. He pointed at Brom and screamed:

YOU'LL PAY FOR RUINING MY BEAUTIFUL RAINBOW JACKET! YOU'LL PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

As they watched Caellach run off to a battlefield in a later chapter, they didn't notice that the castle had completely burned down except for Tana, who had redressed to (the disappointment of everyone) while they weren't looking.

"How were you not harmed by the flames?" asked Franz in astonishment.

"I am magically fireproof because I have high RES," replied Tana.

The gang laughed about this ridiculous distortion of reality that they lived in as they festively journeyed on to a nearby town, which they learned from reading this paragraph that it was where the next chapter was to take place, and that were battles to fight, characters to recruit, and self-deprecatingly humorous statements to state.

"Wait for mee!" said Gilliam, who had almost made it to the party before they started moving agin.

Gilliam was ignored.

Poor Gilliam.

[spoiler=To help mee keep track of things]

Good Guys:

Brom

Danved

Knoll

Titania

Franz

Elincia

Sigrun

Marcia

Vanessa

Syrene

Tana

Thany

Breguet

Bad Guys?

Valter

Geoffrey

Kieran

Bad Guys FO SHO:

Morb

Valtome

Riev

Caellach

At Large:

Generic Villager #2

Gilliam

Pugo

Billy Dee Williams

Fado

[Star Brom]

Chapter 4: A Small Festive Chapter For A Small Festive Village

Valter had returned to Grado Keep with Geoffrey and Kieran. When he saw them, Emperor Vigarde cooed, "Who are these handsome young fellas?"

After Geoffrey and Kieran had introduced themselves, as well as their obligatory speeches about Elincia and Oscar respectively, Emperor Vigarde told them, "I see you two will be powerful allies of Grado. But since this game has a slow learning curve, instead of crushing the player army with our full might, leading to an easy victory, let us send a small force commanded by our weakest general to occupy a small festive village that has no strategic worth whatsoever! Knoll! Lyon!"

Novala quietly made his way into the throne room, moving slowly as to make sure his cloak covered his face, and said, "My liege, Knoll has left the castle because he has switched his allegiance to a peculiar fellow named Starb Rom. Lyon has once agin left in pursuit of Renais's blue-haired harlot. And since Riev's full role in the plot has not yet been revealed, that leaves mee as acting head shadowy cloak-wearer of Grado, since for some reason I was given many speaking lines even though I just wanted to stand there and wait to be killed like all the other generic bosses."

"Very well, Novala," stated Vigarde, "Go fetch Breguet (I'm surprised I've even remembered his name, or yours either, Novala) and tell him to sack that one tiny town where the good guys can recruit one of the game's most popular characters as well as his hot blonde companion, so that they will not be able to do the aforementioned!"

"Sir... Breguet has also joined Starb Rom's army... We can, however, send our second weakest general, Saar."

"Indeed!" shouted Vigarde, and summoning Saar, continued, "Saar, you are hereby promoted from Second-Weakest General in Grado to Weakest General in Grado! Now go and be cannon fodder!"

"It would be my honor, Your Highness," piously whispered Saar, who then left the throne room flanked by a cohort of Generic Soldiers.

Once they reached the small, festive village, Saar began setting up his brilliant trap. "Well, here we are! Set up anywhere, your bodies will disappear once you're killed anyway! Generic Soldier #8, go see if Mr. Popular is ready!"

Generic Soldier #8 ran across the village to where Joshua had agreed to meet them, but all he could find was Natasha. "Hey Natasha, where's Joshua?"

Natasha replied, "I don't know. He called mee a couple minutes ago, asking for directions, but I couldn't help him because MapQuest didn't accept 'Jehanna' as the starting point."

This angered Generic Soldier #8. "You bitch! I told you to get him a GPS for his birthday, but noooo, you just had to get him those Magnums so the two of you could have a few extra rolls in the hay." He chased after her, brandishing his generic lance.

Just then, Brom and Friends showed up, fashionably late for the fiesta. Natasha ran up to them, saying, "Help mee! These Generic Soldiers are after mee!"

Suddenly, the world went widescreen as Brom peered across the suddenly dusty small festive village, with the occasional tumbleweed tumbling by.

"Dunchoo worry, li'l ladeh, ah'll fix ther wagon!"

Brom and friends unleashed their fury upon the hapless generic soldiers, with the Pegasus Knights getting most of the kills because they could move through the entire map within a couple turns. There was much hootin' and hollerin' among the chaos. But Natasha then realized she had forgotten something very important. "Brom, you quite obviously already know this, but if you go into people's houses and talk to them, good things will happen!"

Brom thanked Natasha for the unnecessary reminder and festive rolled into the nearest house. Inside, Pugo was looking at pictures of O'Neill and weeping softly. "What'sa matter, son?" festively asked the Lord of Lard.

"My beloved... we were to be wed today..."

"...M'sorry t'ask but, what happened to yer honey?"

"He was killed by a fat man with an axe."

"GHEB! THAT DASTARD! listen, ah'll help you avenge yer fiancée if ya help mee with somepin."

"I'm listening."

"Git outta th' house and join th' party!"

Pugo joined the party!

i win agin

When Brom and Pugo festively returned outside, Saar was standing near them, puzzled. "Excuse mee sir, but I was going to do battle aginst the army of a fellow named Starb Rom, but it appears all of my Generic Soldiers have died. Could I perhaps join your army, in case you encounter this Starb Rom?"

Brom, festively generous as always, replied, "Sure, and as initiation, why don't you go visit the house we haven't visited yet?"

Saar did so, and inside the house was an old man. Said the old man, "I used to be quite the fighter in my younger days, but I'm too old to deal with that Saar now. Here, take this Armorslayer and strike down Saar, that blackheart!"

"Gee, thanks!" giggled Saar as he took the Armorslayer and began out the door. Suddenly, he stopped and yelled, "Hey, who are you calling a blackheart?!"

Outside, Natasha was perturbed to hear the sounds of an old man dying a very violent death. To distract herself, she flung her hands into the air and shouted, "Party all night, baby! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Immediately, night fell over the village and everyone began dancing festively. Joshua was immediately found, for he was attracted to a good, festive night of partying just as a bee was attracted to honey (mmmmSigrun). While everyone was gettin' fulla th' sperit and thus distracted, Brom snuck out so he could take a massive, golden-brown dump, since he had already finished digesting the knight he ate in Chapter 3.

And remember, kids, biting people hurts. Always swallow your enemies whole!

Good Guys:

Brom

Danved

Knoll

Titania

Franz

Elincia

Sigrun

Marcia

Vanessa

Syrene

Tana

Thany

Natasha

Breguet

Saar

Pugo

Joshua

Bad Guys?

Vigarde

Valter

Geoffrey

Kieran

Bad Guys FO SHO:

Morb

Valtome

Riev

Novala

Caellach

At Large:

Generic Villager #2

Gilliam

Billy Dee Williams

Fado

Deceased:

O'Neill

[Star Brom]

Chapter 5: Ironically Void of His Brombliness

Gilliam was weeping softly to himself. Even his best friend for six minutes, Franz, had conveniently forgotten what a slow fuck he was and left him behind. Gilliam had spent the last several weeks walking back to the Frelian army camp from which he had come, but after yet another messenger blew by him announcing the triumphs of the Feuhrer most Festive, he finally could take no more. He wanted ever so badly to join them and show his battle scars to Syrene, the only hot babe in existence who shared his fetish for them.

Suddenly, the mighty warrior Gilgamesh appeared. "BEHOLD I AM THE MIGHTY WARRIOR GILGAMESH BEHOLD THE MIGHTY MIGHTY BLADE EXCALIPUR!"

Gilliam thought to himself, if only I could get that sword... all of my problems would be magically solved!

"FOOLISH FOOL! THE MIGHTY MIGHTY BLADE EXCALIPUR IS ONLY FOR THE MIGHTY USE OF THE MIGHTY WARRIOR GILGAMESH, AND THAT IS MEE! HOWEVER, I WILL GIVE THE BLESSED BLESSED BLADE ALONDIKE TO THEE! IT SHALL GIVE THEE THE POWER OF MOVING IMPROBABLY QUICKLY, EVEN THOUGH YOUR ARMOR WILL TURN BLACK AND BE EVEN HEAVIER THAN IT IS NOW! YOU WON'T NEED IT THOUGH, BECAUSE YOU WILL ALSO BE ABLE TO TELEPORT AS WELL!"

The mighty warrior Gilgamesh then randomly pulled a legendary sword other than his own from his ass (this was the aforementioned blessed blessed blade Alondike) and gave it to Gilliam.

Gilliam, feeling much better and somewhat less inclined to weep softly, decided that he and his mighty newfangled friend should laugh, for text that it is both capitalized and italicized is always a great way to leave the reader with a menacing tone...

"MWAHAHA! MWAHAHA! MWAHAHAHAHA!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sweat glistened on Ross's golden-brown forehead. "Even while imprisoned, my son, you are so very handsome," cooed Garcia, who was the Third Most Doting Father in All of Magvel, after Emperor Vigarde and the late, great Generic Man #5.

Ross, Garcia, Neimi, Colm, Lute, and Artur were all imprisoned in a generic fortress that was meaninglessly named Renvall to trick the idiots playing the game/reading this fanfic into thinking the location of this generic fortress was actually important. Moulder had previously been incarcerated, but he had bribed the guards into freeing him by letting them feel his moustache, which all agree to be the most epic in all of the Brombliverse.

The guards in question were the bad guys who were here for the same reason that their prisoners were: the chapters in which they were introduced were skipped over because the plot of FE8 was so forgettable that the Great and Glorious Author Himself could not remember the exact order of events. Specifically, the guards were Bone, Bazba, and Generic Big-Ass Spider #12, though the reason why the latter was not Generic Big-Ass Spider #1 is unknown.

As if you, dearest reader, actually care.

Luckily, Moulder had recruited the traditional Magvellian Red, Green, and Jeigan horsemen to save his Bromrades: Forde, Kyle, and... Orson?

Quoth Moulder: "Alright, here's the plan: I will melt the guards and the gate with awesomeness of my moustache, freeing Colm, who will go and pick all the treasure chests. You three will kill all the enemies by yourselves, while everyone else stands around stupidly and pretends they aren't there."

They did just that, but the three cavalier-os hesitated when they reached the boss, for it was not the traditional boss of the chapter.

Kieran, who was observing Kyle, said: "You look like Oscar, you smell like Oscar, you feel like Oscar, you taste like Oscar, but you are... not Oscar. Proceed."

Kieran then galloped away, visibly disappointed, and Zonta, the normal boss, appeared out of thin air. Zonta said, "I am Zonta, and I am the Third Weakest General in Grado and the Weakest Who Has Not Yet Joined the Festive Fiend Starb Rom."

Forde (who, for the sake of the great humours, will talk like a surfer dude for the few lines he has) exclaimed, "Whoa, man! Zonta, is like, totally a totally rad name, dude! You should totally like, join us, bro!"

Lute and Artur came in to the Boss Chamber, arm in arm. "We are totally an item!" shouted Lute, inappropriately loud as always.

"That's not canon..." uttered Zonta, to which Lute responded:

YES IT FUCKING IS! WE ARE A FUCKING ITEM AND IT MAKES PERFECT SENSE THAT I WILL END UP AS A PRIEST'S LOLI!

LAZOOOOOOR!

Lute's LAZOR! blasted through the fortress's generic walls, causing them to generically shake. When the blinding light and mold from the aged meme had cleared away, Zonta lay dead, a rather sizable hole blasted through his torso. Artur piously swore to Brom that he would never cheat on and/or dump Lute.

Orson then said, "Hey guys, now that the boss is dead, I should tell you guys I'm going to join Morb because he unfestively promised mee that he would resurrect my wife, and I will delusionally believe and follow him because I am a zombie fetishist. That being said, I have Reginlief, Ephraim's super special awesome lance, because he couldn't make it to the chapter today. You'll obviously want it, so you should probably make mee trade it or put it in the convoy before this chapter

[Star Brom]

Chapter 6: Novalalala BOOM-YAY!

Things did not bode well for Novala. His misty, secluded home was about to be found out by the rabid Brom, who would undoubtedly ask for his autograph, even though he had not published a novel in several decades. Luckily, Novala, had a few tricks up his sleeve, or rather, in his hood.

Having tricked Vigarde into giving him a healthy supply of troops from Grado, Novala was able to devise a clever pattern for his new private soldiers to hide in the fog, the cleverness being that none of them would be anywhere near his petunias. In addition, he would startle Brom by forcing him to watch as a giant spider devoured Meg, his beloved paramour.

All that Novala owned was at stake. His privacy, his property, and his... er... private property. "It's a good thing a don't give a shit about what my boss thinks of mee," he muttered to himself.

Suddenly, Novala was knocked onto his back as a strangely effeminate light blinded him. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized he was now in the presence of Riev, Valtome, and Caellach, the Gay Zombie Triumvirate.

"Howya doin', big boy?" Valtome shrieked in the most harpy-like sound an alleged male has ever made.

Novala replied, "Don't talk to mee like that... It's obnoxious..."

"You don't like being boy? Would you prefer Jer-"

"NO! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW HARD I'VE WORKED TO MAKE SURE NOBODY IN THIS UNIVERSE KNEW THAT NAME SO I COULD FINALLY GET SOME GODDAMN PEACE!"

"Well, in that case, Novala darling," interjected Riev, "I guess you'll have to make sure Brom never wins agin, or else we'll tell every phony in the Fire Brombliverse who you really aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare!"

The three then disappeared as quickly as they had come in a puff of rainbow smoke. Novala faintly detected the taste of Caellach upon his lips. Luckily for him, he had just enough time to wash it off before Brom and friends showed up.

Brom's coming was announced by the soft weeping of Pugo, who had developed a crush on Zonta shortly before the latter villain's untimely death.

Brom then saw Meg in her festive, fecund, and fertile glory and quite loudly and festively gasped, "MAH WIFE! THEY HAVE MAH WIFE!"

"Hey, Danved thought Danved was your wife!" shouted Danved defiantly.

"Oops, sorreh, ah meant... MAH MOMMA! THEY GOTS MAH MOMMA!"

"Hey, I thought I was your momma!" festively shouted Brom in defiance.

Once agin, Brom festively and piously apologized, saying, "Oops, sorreh, ah meant... MAH DAUGHTER! THEY GOTS MAH DAUGHTER!"

Novala, now free from all detectable gay zombie residue, climbed from his comfortable cozy cottage and clamorously claimed, "Star Brom! You may be the festive feuhrer, but no matter how festive or feuhrer-y you may be, you will not be able to save your beloved, wife, mother, and/or daughter from the appetite of one big fuckin' spider!"

The battle then festively broke out, and Brom was obviously winning, with the help from his new allies which had joined him after being freed from prison in the previous chapter, even though the Lord of Lard had a much larger Brombly battalion than was necessary for a battle this early in the fanfic.

Finally, it was magically somehow Brom and Novala, one on one. Novala was actually quite the match for Brom, in battle and romance, and so his Brombliness asked Knoll to identify the mighty dark tome he wielded, as he felt it had some quite useful seductive power. He wanted it for himself, so that he could give it as a reward to the author of this very story for being the Greatest Genius of All Times and Peoples, for he knew of this mysterious mastermind's secret lust for Sigrun.

Knoll examined yonder tome, and was overcome with amazement: "I thought it was only a legend... this tome is more powerful than my own Gleipnir. In fact, it is possibly the most powerful dark tome in existence... Franny and Zooey!"

Novala fell silent. After many a long, dramatic pause, (so long and dramatic, in fact, that it caused half the audience to leave the theater during the film version of this tale!) he grudgingly took off his hood to reveal his true identity: the late J.D. Salinger.

"You're a sharp one, Old Knoll, you are, I'll give ya that. It's nice to know somebody appreciates my more powerful tomes instead of that old Catcher in the Rye. Why, I didn't even put enough power in that old thing to kill anybody, but yet Steven Curtis Chapman was still able to use it to murder Lenin in 1980! I took the blame for it, and things ended up so badly that I had to fake my own death and move to someplace where one would never think to look: Magvel! But it turns out old Catcher has quite the following, even here! So I had to change my name and cover my face with this spooky-looking hood!"

"But there is still one thing I don't understand, Mr. Salinger," quipped Knoll, "If you changed your name and covered your true face with a hood, doesn't that make you... a phony?"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I'M MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLTTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNG!

You got a Franny and Zooey!

"Many pious and festive thank-yous for obtaining this magnificent tome for mee, Bromrade, but was it really necessary to liquify one of those most beloved and controversial writers of the 20th century?" festively asked Brom.

Spaketh Knoll: "20th century?! We're still in the year 666, remember, my most lardly lord?"

Brom nodded in festive observance of the truth of Knoll's spakery, but he was suddenly knocked over by the errant cavalier Forde, whose horse had slipped in a puddle of Salinger, causing Forde to shout:

"COWABUNGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The momentum of the impact set Brom a-rolling so quickly that he made it up the mountainside to where the giant spider was about devour Meg. And if the spider was big enough to eat Meg, it must have been one big fuckin' spider. However, Brom had his festive mouth wide open in shock, for he had not expected this rolling session in particular, and thus he swallowed both Meg and the spider with one big festive

GULP!

While the rest Grand Holy Emperor Brom's army watched in awe and horror at these events, Knoll searched for a master of Elder Magic worthy of wielding Franny and Zooey. Suddenly it dawned upon him: Master Lyon! Knoll then went off in search of the sexually depraved prince of Grado, causing a nuisance for Brom, who was now without his top adviser, and for The Author, who now had yet another plotline to develop. But most irked of all was Pelleas, who had been waiting to be recruited politely and quietly in the background since Chapter One.

Meanwhile, the Festive Feuhrer came down from the mountainside with great gumption and grandeur, for his Brombly belly was now even more bulbous than it had been when he had ingested the generic knight, and all who witnessed Brom in this state agree that his stomach's size was indeed of near-Bromblical proportions.

Relief fell upon the crowd as Brom festively decreed, "Fret not, Bromrades! This is not the first nor the last time that Meg and I have passed through each other's digestive system! Being of Brombly blood, we are immune to our own juices, which means that eventually Meg will emerge intact, coated in my own golden-brown feces!"

Cheers erupted from the crowd, and when what Brom promised came true, it ignited everyone's scatophilial fetishes, and the day ended in a massive, churning, disgusting, shit-filled orgy of victory!

Good Guys:

Brom

Meg

Danved

Titania

Franz

Elincia

Sigrun

Marcia

Vanessa

Syrene

Tana

Thany

Natasha

Breguet

Saar

Pugo

Joshua

Ross

Garcia

Neimi

Colm

Lute

Artur

Forde

Kyle

Moulder

Bad Guys?

Vigarde

Valter

Geoffrey

Bad Guys FO SHO:

Morb

Valtome

Riev

Caellach

At Large:

Generic Villager #2

Gilliam

Billy Dee Williams

Fado

Kieran

Knoll

Lyon

Pelleas

Deceased:

O'Neill

Bones

Bazba

Zonta

Novala/J.D. Salinger

[Star Brom]

Chapter 7: It's a Trap!

Both Brom and Vigarde were at their wit's end. A battle was about to occur at the very important-sounding Renvall Castle, scheduled at about 9 AM the following day, with a lunch break at 12 and a silent auction for the benefit of Generic Charities' annual Give the Children Names and Faces fundraiser event followed by dinner at 6 PM if necessary. Both sides had an ironically similar crisis: they both had lost Knoll, their master tactician.

Desperately, Emperor Vigarde called Valter to his effeminate chamber. "Valter," said the Emperor, "With all previous battles, I could afford to send crappy generals who couldn't possibly win, for they were all at inconsequential hamlets. But Castle Renvall... I have no idea how strategically important it is, but it sounds very important! As Grado's least crappy General, it is your mission to protect this very important-sounding place with your life. If you fail, I may have to resort to... the Four Riders."

Even Valter's dragon shuddered at the mere mention of Vigarde's Four Riders. They were fashioned after the Four Riders of Daein, characters in a game that took place after all the canon FE8 characters were dead, but infinitely more fearsome, so fearsome, in fact, that they have caused much suffering in the real world as well!

Meanwhile, Brom and Friends had found a shop. That sold items, and stuff. Brom festively approached the shop-keeper and asked for a list of their inventory. Meg took the list and read it, then festively and piously asked of Brom, "Daddy/hubby/sonny, can we git a Slim Sword? It sounds like a sword that makes you slim when you use it! If it releases such powerful magic with every use, imagine what powers it contains for He Who Can Master It! Why, it must be the most powerful weapon in all of the Holy Broman Empire!"

Brom followed Meg's horribly flawed logic perfectly, and festively demanded that the shopkeeper sell Slim Swords to his entire army. It then occurred to Brom that he don't got no money, and had to make money the only way the leader of an elite fighting force in the middle of an easily-pillaged village could: pimp the Pegasus Knights.

A few hours and many improvised harlot costumes later, Tirado was crying bitterly into his intoxicating liquor at the Krusty Krab's Sekret Strip Klub and Bar, for he had gone from Grado's Seventh-Worst General to Grado's Worst General in only a half-dozen crappy fanfic chapters. Luckily, Elincia had bought him his drank and was now sitting on his lap, kissing him passionately and wiping her heavily-perfumed body all over his armor, which Tirado kept on 24/7 like all of Grado's Finest Worst Generals.

"Have you ever done it with a queen before?" hissed Elincia quite coquettishly into Tirado's ear.

Tirado then began planning his secret-but-not-so-secret ambition. If I father an illegitimate child with the queen, does that mean I become the king? Tirado failed to realize that when it came to the illegitimate fathering of royal children, if the father is not the royal one, he is royally drawn and quartered.

However, before Tirado was able to get himself drawn and quartered, his Shitty Strategy Senses began to tingle. He suddenly felt compelled to return to his station guarding Renvall Castle.

"I suddenly feel compelled to return to my station guarding Renvall Castle!" said Tirado, who immediately returned to his station guarding Renvall Castle, leaving Elincia with no one to fuck for money, for the rest of the men were ganging up on Tana, Syrene, and Sigrun; whilst all the lesbians had forced Vanessa and Thany to join in on their orgy.

Back in the important-looking throne room of the important-sounding Renvall Castle, Valter was sitting on the throne and riding his dragon at the same time, which he grew tired of, so he left and told his henchman Geoffrey to take his place. Geoffrey sat on the throne for a while and rode his horse at the same time, until he too grew bored and left his henchman, Tirado, to take his place. Tirado, who was the first person not with a beast to interfere with his comfort on the important-looking throne, had his comfort on the important-looking throne interfered with by his heavy armor, which still smelled strongly of Crimean Princess. Tirado, who had taken a liking to the smell, decided he needed to go back and consummate his wholesome prostitute-client relationship with Elincia, so he went back to the KKSSK+B and left Murray, who was not even a general, to sit on the important-looking throne whilst riding upon his horse.

Brom's strategy was even better. Since he had made the Pegasus Knights' provocative clothing out of their battle armor, he decided that to save money, he would make them battle that way, thus making them like female characters in every other violence-based video game ever: fighting in outfits that not only don't protect them, but are also laughably cumbersome and inadequate, but the nerds playing as them are too busy masturbating to notice. Additionally, Brom knew that when Knoll was not there to help him, he would have to put his trust and faith into the the ever-faith-and-trustworthy the Bromble.

Brom festively turned the Holy Bromble to the Book of B-Dawg's Incredibly Bad Advice, which opens with this transcendentally wise and beautiful prose:

When thou dost attack an important-sounding castle filled with archers, many of whom be equip'd with ye longbowes, thou shalt put at the helm of thy army a Pegasus Knight that mustn't be kill'd at all costes, and who cannot even defend herself.

And thus Brom decided that if he made Elincia lead the charge into the archer-heavy fray wielding nothing but Ye Simple Heale Staffe, he would reign in the putrid annals of history among all of military's great geniuses: Alexander, Hitler, Napoleon, Custer, even Admiral Ackbar!

As Brom's brilliant, festive, holy, pious, Brombly mind had predicted, they were able to storm into the important-looking throne room with absolutely no problems whatsoever. Once they were there, they saw Rennac, who was picking open many a treasure chest, collecting such timeless and priceless classics such as Beauty and the Beast Special Edition and Souljah Boy's Greatest Love Songs: He Don't Wantcho Money (Like I Do). Brom proceeded to spend all of his pimp money in recruiting Rennac.

"But Daddy, you promised!" whined Meg.

"Quit yer whinin' beeyutch!" shouted Brom as he backhanded Meg across the face, drawing knuckle-headed chuckles (or was it chuckle-headed knuckles?) from Breguet and Saar.

Outside the important-sounding Castle Renvall, Tirado realized he had forgotten his heavily armored wallet. He turned around to go back and get it, and while he wandered back towards the important-sounding Castle Renvall, he crossed paths with Geoffrey, who had been galloping heroically around the important-sounding Castle Renvall on his golden-brown horse for the eighty-second time that day. Geoffrey caught a whiff of Elincia's perfume, causing memories of his cherished cherub to phlood back into his brain, and he phollowed Tirado back to the important-sounding Castle Renvall in a phestive, pheromone-induced phury.

As Tirado clunked and Geoffrey galloped heroically back into the castle, they found Murray, who was freshly dead. Geoffrey gasped and asked, "Who caused this random cavalier whose name I do not even know to become freshly dead?"

Though it was obvious to even the worst forensics teams in the Holy Broman Empire that Murray had been killed by long-range attacks from Neimi, Lute, and Moulder, Geoffrey instead attacked the person at the head of the army, which was still Elincia. He was wielding a Brave Lance and she was wielding the Amiti, which meant they both got four hits apiece, because it makes perfect sense if one does not think about it. Since Elincia was not allowed to kill, she merely reduced Geoffrey to 1 HP, cutting off his nuts and poking her sword into each of his eyes, blinding him. Geoffrey placed his four hits before Elincia could get off her last one, killing her.

Suddenly, Geoffrey heard Brom's festive voice: "Why're you attackin' us agin ya dang fool? Yer queen's awn our sahd!"

Geoffrey was startled. "Elincia! Elincia is here?"

Geoffrey, no longer able to see, followed the scent of Elincia with his arms spread out wide until he got a hold of Tirado. "Oh, my dear Elincia, I thought my delicate heart would break in two after we were apart for an entire week!" cried Geoffrey as he held Tirado in a death-lock grip and forced their faces together. The entirety of the Holy Broman Brombly Battalion burst into applause at the passion of Geoffrey's embrace, completely ignoring the fact that Geoffrey was blind, useless, and had killed the real Elincia.

But I guess many great men are made in similar fashion.

Suddenly, Titania's Jeigan senses began to tingle. She piously and festively asked of the Festive Feuhrer, "O Lord Brom of the Lard, I have reasonable suspicion that there is a spooky-looking dungeon in the basement of this important-sounding castle. Perhaps we should warrant a search party to go down there?"

"A party?!" exclaim'd the festive and jovial Brom, "Hey everyone, thar's a party downstairs! YEEE-HEE-HEE-HAW!"

Brom festively and piously rolled down the stairs, and everyone followed him, mindlessly but festively yelling "PARTY!" or, more commonly, "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Below was the spooky-looking dungeon, in which Seth, Eirika, and Ephraim were held. Eirika rose from her cot and pointed at Brom and Friends. "Look, Father! Your mercenaries have come to save us!"

Seth came to Eirika's side. "Yes, Mist, it seems that Titania is here... but I don't see the rest of them, unless we count that fat fellow in the brown armor over there. What was his name agin?"

Rennac picked the lock so that Seth and Eirika could get out. Eirika turned around and beckoned Ephraim to join them, addressing him as 'Ike,' but Ephraim continued to sit somberly on his saggy and soggy sofa. Forde and Kyle thought that Ephraim did not feel comfortable if he was not wielding a lance, so they offered an Iron Lance with green holly on it to make it look like Reginlief, since the real Reginlief was still in the possession of Orson. "Fools!" grumbled Ephraim, randomly pulling a golden-brown sword out of his ass, "The only weapon for mee is the awesome awesome blade Fagnell!"

"Silly Prince Ephraim! You can only use lances, not swords!" observed Forde and Kyle in unison.

Geoffrey, in the meantime, was feeling around for a cot, so that he and Tirado (whom he thought to be Elincia) could fuck as though she was an experienced lady of the night. When he finally found one, Ephraim was demonstrating to Kyle and Forde that he could indeed use swords. He

GREAT AETHER'D!

Geoffrey, and then ran out of the important-sounding castle, distressed that he had reduced his fellow fake Crimean to a charred corpse.

Outside of the important-sounding Castle Renvall, Ephraim bumped into the Black Knight and Gilgamesh. Ephraim raised Fagnell to defend himself, declaring, "The Black Knight! My name is Ike, you killed my father, prepare to die!"

The Black Knight held up a picture of Seth. "Weren't you just locked up with your very much alive father?"

"Oh yeah..."

"But BEWARE!" roared the Black Knight, swinging around the blessed blessed blade Alondike heroically but still making himself look ridiculous, "Evil warlocks, led by the most nefarious Starb Rom, are trying to convince your father and sister that they are really Seth and Eirika from FE8! They had mee too for a while, and almost convinced mee that I was Gilliam, and they wanted Gilgamesh here to believe that he was a generic villager!"

"The dastardly dastards! Shall we go into the important-sounding Castle Renvall to save them?"

"Nay, Bromrade! We must teleport away and face them later individually, when they are strong enough to beat each of us by ourselves!"

"A BRILLIANT plan! Let us laugh as though we are Brombliversity students who have taken many a tincture of Bromoxx^tm!"

And Gilgamesh, the Black Knight, and Ike laughed thusly as they teleported from the important-sounding Castle Renvall.

Good Guys:

Brom

Meg

Danved

Titania

Seth

Eirika

Franz

Sigrun

Marcia

Vanessa

Syrene

Tana

Thany

Natasha

Breguet

Saar

Pugo

Joshua

Ross

Garcia

Neimi

Colm

Lute

Artur

Forde

Kyle

Moulder

Rennac

Tirado

Bad Guys?

Vigarde

Valter

Kieran

Bad Guys FO SHO:

Morb

Valtome

Riev

Caellach

At Large:

Generic Villager #2

Gilliam

Ephraim

Billy Dee Williams

Fado

Knoll

Lyon

Pelleas

Deceased:

O'Neill

Bones

Bazba

Zonta

Murray

Novala/J.D. Salinger

Elincia

Geoffrey

[Star Brom]

Chapter 8: Brom vs. Gheb

Another festive day, another festive bloody battle. Tirado, who had become the army's sous-chef, had promised that today's sunrise would take the form of a giant, golden-brown gelatin. Unfortunately, since the sale and consumption of intoxicating liquors had not yet been illegalized in the Holy Broman Empire-Magvel Branch, everyone except for His Brombliness woke up late with hangovers after a long, hard, festive night of long, hard, festive partying, tomfoolery, and wolligoggering. By the time they were up, they saw that the Lord of Lard had brom nom nom'd the entire golden-brown gelatin by himself. Everyone except for that fucking fat fuck would be going hungy yet agin.

After breakfast, Brom gave a festively inspiring speech to his constituents, as if though the suckers had to vote for him agin already. It outlined his plan for finding Knoll, and to send a search party to do just that. He appointed Mist (who was actually Eirika) to be the leader of this expedition. Meanwhile, he would lead an army aginst one of Grado's most legendary warriors, to make sure he did not capture Knoll and tempt him to join the most nefarious Smexy Side.

Amongst the party led by Eirika was Titania, Seth, Franz, Vanessa, Syrene, Saar, Forde, Kyle and Moulder. After the rest had dispatched to some random fort under the Brombly banner, they want to some random port, because that is where Eirika believed to be the best place for a party.

When they arrived at the random port to party, they were quite unfestively greeted by the wicked forces of Morb, led by none other than Kieran, who shouted, "OSCAR! I have searched very meticulously across this entire continent and yet you do not reveal yourself! One day, my hard work and excellent eagle eyes shall spot you, and we will once agin become rivals! BRFs! BRFs!"

Kieran's underlings also joined in the chant, until it became so loud that Mist and friends decided to take shelter from the noise in the generic port village's most easily entered cottage. Sitting inside such cottage was none other than Oscar, who had traded in his armor and horse for a bathrobe and a pipe, and was sitting in a velvet armchair. He appeared to be pondering, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore.

As he nodded, nearly napping, suddenly Tanith burst into the room, infant at her breast, and uttered, "Dear, I think I heard some tapping, as though someone was rapping at our chamber door, even though our chamber door is made of straw and goat shit, therefore making it nearly impossible for any rapping or tapping done on it to be audible."

Oscar muttered in response, "Oh Tanny, 'tis the wind and nothing more."

"If that is so, Oscar, then why are there FE8 characters standing right behind you?"

Oscar turned around and saw his visitors, and cordially invited them to sit down in the velvet armchairs that had randomly appeared, one each for every guest, which the small cottage somehow had enough room for.

"So, what brings you here? I hope you aren't trying to recruit mee like Kieran, for I've gone into retirement and settled down with Tanith, who needed someone to love after she was kicked out of the Consolidated Pegasus Knights, ltd. for not having a weird enough hair color. Luckily, our son has inherited my green hair, but I plan on beating him senselessly into becoming a member of the scholar-gentry, even if he need take the three-day examination a hundred times just to pass it. I tried my best to be a good brother to Boyd and Rolf, but it was hard between Kieran following mee around and demanding that we be rivals and the cooking."

Titania, who was this band's greatest strategical mind in the absence of His Brombliness and His Knolliness, was suddenly inspired by the inspiring muse that came in the form of her fellow Jeigan, Seth, whom she thought to be her former wannabe lover, Greil. She strategically looked at Oscar and strategically said to Oscar, "If you want us to help you find your brothers, you need not fight. If you wanted to keep yourself busy (since idle hands are the tools of Morb) you can always travel as the army chef, and train Kyle in the ways of the Green Cavalier. And you can bring your wife and child along as well, for Lord Brom loves the little children."

Such an agreement was agreeably agreed upon by the agreeing parties, for Oscar could not resist aligning himself with Moulder's moustache, and Tanith went outside and shrieked "REINFORCEMENTS!" at the top of her lungs, which was quite an impressive feat considering her lactating breasts were weighing down on them. Three generic Pegasus Knights randomly appeared, and despite the fact they were rather wimpy, used their high Luck stat to their advantage and slowly killed off most of Kieran's weaker troops. Oscar and Friends used this opportunity to sneak out of the random port while Kieran was distracted.

After they were long gone, Kieran finally noticed the Generic Pegasus Knights because one of them had accidentally strayed into his movement range. After dispatching of them with three bold strokes of his axe, Kieran caught a whiff of eau de Oscar. He put his nose to the ground and crawled, bloodhound-like, into the Oscar Family's former residence. He finally recognized the Oscar-scent to the point of it being unmistakably Oscar around a book entitled Evading Red-Armored Axe Paladins Who Insist On Being Your Rival For Dummies, A Novel by J.D. Salinger.

Kieran put down the book and howled, "YOU CAN'T HIDE FOREVER, OSCAR! RIVALSHIP CONQUERS ALL!"

--------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Knoll had met some fortune and some misfortune. The good news was that he had found Prince Lyon. The bad news is that he had found him by being captured by Gheb and thrown into the same cell as Lyon. Why did Gheb keep his own nation's crown prince in such a dark, dank, and unfestive dungeon?

The world may never know.

However, Lyon was not without certain luxuries, for Gheb had provided him with not one, but TWO lolis: Amelia and Ewan. Amelia, being a female and more heavily armored than Ewan, was a better loli, and Knoll, being Lyon's humble servant, humbly settled for Ewan.

Outside of the random fort, Brom and Friends had arrived. Colm puffed out his seemingly-unpuffable chest, and proudly exclaimed, "I heard there were many chests to be picked at this random fort!"

"My Colmy-Wolmy finally has some locks to pick!" whimpered Neimi, and she began to cry.

Brom, ignoring this unimportant plot-filling babble, festively announced, "Gheb! Stop hiding behind yer fanceh walls an' come fight mee, lest ye dishonor the noble history of the all things Smexy!"

Festively distressed at being ignored, the Lord of Lard rolled into a ball and crashed through the wall of some random fortress, causing it to tumble down and destroy all of its generic inhabitants. Gheb, Lyon, Knoll, Amelia, and Ewan somehow survived, and were standing in the rubble.

Festively, Brom pointed an almighty fat finger at Gheb. "You cannot escape your fate! It was prophetically prophecized by the same wise prophet who records this great and Brombly history that you and I would festively face each other in the smexiest one-on-one matchup of all time! Draw thy axe, you dastard, as I festively make you pay for the dastardly deeds you did aginst the beautiful and virtuous O'Neill!"

Gheb laughed smexily. "Foolish festive fool! Hast thou forgotten that the fate of the Smexy Side cannot be determined by a simple axe-duel, but only by the most ancient of all the Smexy Arts: Loliback Sumo!

Drooling, Gheb turned toward Amelia. "My loli... it is time."

Amelia obediently bent over so that Gheb could perch on her shoulders after ripping all of his clothes off, a scene so smexy that many a female nearly died from the sight of it due to the violence of their orgasms.

Brom suddenly realized that he had no loli from which to mount except for Ross, but when he motioned toward him, Garcia held Ross back, saying, "He's MY loli... Erm, I mean, he's only a boy."

Suddenly, a miracle occurred, no doubt delivered by the festive hand of the Lord Brom Almighty Himself. Ewan, who had passed out because of the excessive sexings that Knoll had inflicted upon him, was filled with the Brombly Sperit, and stood up, saying, "If the Festive Feuhrer wills it, I shall be his loli."

Brom promptly removed his clothes and leapt upon Ewan's shoulder just as Gheb had done, and the additional smexiness the scene had adapted because of it overwhelmed Thany, who had been crossing her legs and holding her abdomen for dear life. She could hold on no longer, erupting into a cloud of cum.

The match began. Amelia and Ewan grunted and groaned as they carried their heavy passengers toward each other. Their efforts were trivialized as they were set even further apart than they had originally been when Brom and Gheb bounced off each other. The cycle repeated agin and agin until Amelia made the fatal mistake of looking where she was going. She saw the sperit of Brom in Ewan's eyes, and this combined with the fact that she gazed upon Brom himself riding on her loli-foe's shoulders made her realize that the duo was unbeatable. Knowing fully well they were her last words, Amelia piously cried, "Glory be to Brom!"

With this, she collapsed from exhaustion, and Gheb tumbled, fumbled, bumbled, grumbled and stumbled to the ground, crushing Amelia, and was humbled. Brom climbed down from Ewan, telling him, "You are a good loli," and kissed him tenderly.

Then Star Brom turned to Gheb and festively roared, "You were a worthy opponent, Gheb, but I fear the days of the Smexy Side are over!"

Pugo looked directly into Gheb's fearful but still gorgeous face as Brom opened his festive and holy maw wide in order to swallow him. He not only forgave Gheb's dastardly deeds (which he did not commit) aginst his beloved O'Neill, but fell madly in love with him. He stood in between Gheb and Brom's descending mouth, begging for his master to spare Gheb, but Brom was deafened by his righteous hunger. He slurped them up and in so efficiently that not even a single piece of Amelia's body was left as evidence.

Though Brom and Friends were disappointed that they would never see such a day as epic as the one where Brom and Gheb fought side-by-side, all went to bed that night comforted by the fact that Brom had brought balance to the Smexy Side, for its sole living proponent was spending the rest of eternity making sweet festive monkey love to Pugo inside Brom's blessed belly.

Good Guys:

Brom

Meg

Danved

Titania

Seth/Greil

Eirika/Mist

Knoll

Lyon

Franz

Sigrun

Marcia

Vanessa

Syrene

Tana

Natasha

Breguet

Saar

Joshua

Ross

Garcia

Neimi

Colm

Lute

Artur

Forde

Kyle

Moulder

Rennac

Tirado

Oscar Ewan

Bad Guys?

Vigarde

Valter

Kieran

Bad Guys FO SHO:

Morb

Valtome

Riev

Caellach

At Large:

Generic Villager #2

Gilliam

Ephraim

Billy Dee Williams

Fado

Pelleas

Deceased:

O'Neill

Bones

Bazba

Zonta

Murray

Novala/J.D. Salinger

Elincia

Geoffrey

Thany

Pugo

Gheb 

Amelia

Edited March 23, 2012 by Star Brom

[Star Brom]

Chapter 8x: Segue

Emperor Vigarde sat cross-legged upon his throne, filing his neon-pink nails as Selena galloped into the throne room, followed by two maidservants who cleaned the muddy hoof prints off the velvet carpet, a necessary task because it would make too much sense for Selena to dismount her horse when indoors. Emperor Vigarde waited for Selena to bow before him, but lost his patience after several hours of awkward silence.

"Selena! Gheb has been defeated, nobody knows what the fuck Kieran is doing, and the rest of our non-important generals are being ignored to make the plot more interesting! Since you are the only one who has shown up on time for the Generals' Meeting, I think I shall reward your punctuality by putting you on the front lines aginst Starb Rom's unbelievably superior army!"

"My liege, with all the feigned piety and respect due to thee, do you not remember my Sacred Fluorspar oath? Would I not be breaking it if I were to raise my hand aginst Prince Lyon?"

"Foolish woman! How could you not have known that yesterday, without your permission, the Four converted your gemstone into the Whorespar, forcing you to obey the whims of my ridiculous court in an oddly sexual manner! Do you not remember the savage way in which your home village was burned, pillaged, ravaged and destroyed? Do you remember the devils who did such a thing?"

"Men strong in body but not in mind, resorting to a brief and violent life of drunkenness, cowardice, and mindless destruction because they were no longer needed as the pawns with which plutocrats play their foolish and twisted political games that never yield anything truly valuable?"

"No. It was... erm... Let's see... Obama... Libya... hmm... They didn't have the... uh... conservative family values? Well... anyway... That's besides the point! Get out of my sight, before I sick the Four on you!"

Selena shuddered at the mention of these four individuals, so powerful that they were not allowed in the original game, lest they do the unthinkable: raise the game's level of difficulty to something harder than hilariously easy. She galloped all the way from the throne to the most practical place for a Mage Knight to fight: Za'Albul Marsh. The handmaidens followed her the entire way, trying in vain to clean up the muddy hoof prints until they were swallowed up by the marsh and never seen agin, except in the wet dreams of people with oddly specific fetishes.

Vigarde harrumphed, "Being around competence for that long is truly draining. Bring in my remaining generals, Chow Lee, for they will surely reverse the affect."

The Chinaman, who had no idea what he was doing in Grado, summoned Valter, Riev, Valtome, Caellach, Glen, Cormag, and Duessel to Vigarde's chamber. The first matter the Emperor addressed was that the latter three had sworn 248 fealty oaths under the old system, and had yet to swear under the brilliant new system proposed by Vigarde's most brilliant advisers (whom he had inherited from his American cousin George F. Custer) that featured 369 new oaths, and was brilliantly called the Glorious People's Loyalty and Fealty Oath Crusade of Great Justice. The solemn duty of administering the Glorious People's Loyalty and Fealty Oath Crusade of Great Justice to these three Gentiles could be performed only by an individual who was a paragon of piety, sobriety, prudence, and restraint.

However, since no one in this fantastic tale fits that description, Valter did it instead.

Duessel and Cormag's oaths went smoothly, but when Glen was in the middle of his 347th oath, Valter randomly stabbed him clean through the heart with a very, very long spear. Witnessing this, Cormag and Duessel quickly explained that they suddenly felt the urge to talk directly with Brom about not joining his army and fled Grado Keep to join Brom's army.

(Censor's Note: The rest of the meeting between Valter, Riev, Valtome, Caellach, and Vigarde has been left out of this edition of Fire Bromblem because Pope Bromulous xXIXx deemed that the scene may inspire prurient sexual thoughts, something that NEVER happens anywhere else in this innocent tale.)

Meanwhile, Duessel and Cormag found themselves in a waiting room, watching videos of smiling generic soldiers explaining how nice it was to serve under Lord Brom moments before they were decapitated by a generic swordmaster from Grado. Finally, their numbers, 1017 and 1018, were called by the lady at the desk.

The lady snapped her gum obnoxiously while Cormag and Duessel simultaneously thought that they would enjoy having sexual relations with the desk lady if she was without gum, glasses or gray pantsuit. Their prurient sexual thoughts were interrupted by the desk lady's harsh voice: "Are you here to register to vote in our pointless, fraudulent elections, or are you applying for a Wagon License?"

Cormag said simply, "We wish to fight alongside the Lord of Lard."

"All the primary positions are taken, I'm afraid," replied the desk lady with absolutely no concern for the situation, "It looks like you'll have to appear in the next battle as recruitable NPCs instead. Please report to your new commanding officers: Tethys, L'Arachel and Dozla."

Duessel and Cormag did so without questioning the fact that their superiors were much shittier units than themselves at that point in the game, hiding with them in some bushes near Selena's troops, who did not notice them for some reason.

The group had already agreed not to attack until Brom's army engaged with Selena's troops, even though the entire force was composed of generic soldiers they could kill easily by themselves, with the exception of Selena. Instead, they focused on much more important matters.

"Why is Rennac tied up?" inquired Tethys of L'Arachel and Dozla.

Dozla answered, "My beard had to shut him up, because he kept going on about some nonsense like, 'I'm already in Brom's army!' when my beard kidnapped him from his encampment in Brom's army and told him that we were running away to join Brom's army."

After everyone accepted Dozla's brilliant and reasonable explanation, Cormag and Duessel became concerned over the whereabouts of their fellow badass, and asked of Tethys, "Where is Gerik?"

Gerik was, in fact, waiting around with Boyd, Shinon, Rolf, Gatrie, Leonardo, Edward, and Nolan in Jehanna waiting to be recruited by the group that featured Eirika (who thought she was Mist), Seth (Who thought he was Greil), Titania, and the Oscar Formerly Known As Kieran's Rival, who were known to be heading towards Jehanna.

Gerik had abandoned Tethys because he regarded her as an inferior actress, and wanted to surround himself with genuine thespians. He knew he was in for a treat when he gathered around the campfire with the others, who told him of their experience with the famously obscure Greil Mercenaries Acting Troupe.

[align=center]-------------------------------------------------

Greil Mercenaries Super-Secret Hideout/Theater, 5 Years Earlier[/align]

The newly-polished stage floor was a shimmering golden-brown, and many an eager, happy foot wished to be the first to dance on the surface. However, the musical was Cats, and when Ike (who was Casting Director for the production) was supposed to receive phone calls from interested players, he only got one. When that single phone ring was heard, Ike excitedly picked up the receiver, only to hear Shinon utter "T.S. Eliot," hanging up before Ike could respond.

Dejected, Ike went back to his tent and lit a Virginia Slim, his guilty pleasure. He had to smoke Camels in public. He hated Camels.

As Ike was sittin' there, feelin' real lousy, he suddenly caught the silhouette of a naked woman out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to be aroused, but he was afraid the silhouette may have belonged to his sister, or worse, Mia. A gorgeous, bare arm made its way into Ike's tent. Mist's voice cooed, "Ikey-poo..."

Ike recoiled in horror. Though he admired the beauty with which Brom made love to Meg, he personally disapproved of incest. Luckily, the voice he heard did not belong to Mist, but to Titania, who just had a disturbingly accurate Mist imitation.

Titania, now using her real voice as she completely entered the tent with her hands wrapped around her chest, continued, "Ike, there's something you might want to know..."

The weight of the news she wished to bestow upon him caused her to lapse for a split second, accidentally dropping her hands to her sides and revealing her nipples, which where an even more vibrant red than her hair.

Ike was overcome with lust, and embraced Titania passionately. She did not want him to do this, but she refrained from protesting because she enjoyed his tongue in her mouth a little too much. Ike soon realized why Titania was named so, because he felt as though he had just inserted his sword into solid Titanium, and it was in the most solid and secure place it had ever been (which was really saying something). He prepared for the fucking of a lifetime.

And that's when Brom festively marched in, looking very festive and regal dressed as Deuteronomy. He festively held his Brombly breast high, as though he were about to bellow a Brombastic bass note, but instead a sweet soprano serenade slipped from Sir Brom's sinuses.

Much to Titania's relief, Ike withdrew himself and promptly casted the Festive Feuhrer as every character in the play.

[Star Brom]

Chapter 9: A Roll in the Mud

The Lord Brom Most Festive, were he not enjoying the pleasures of his many eunuchs and future eunuchs in his candy land paradise in the sky, would have looked down to see that it was to be a glorious and festive day for a glorious and festive brutal seemingly endless stalemate in Za'Albul marsh, due to the majesty of the fog (or maybe smog, due to the polluting qualities of marsh monster flatulence) that covered the marsh like soporific blanket. At the end of this day, Star Brom knew he would once agin bask in his own golden-brown glow of glorious glory, at only the reasonable cost of the lives of more faceless fools than any battle that had preceded it.

Meanwhile, the party led by Eirika (who thought she was Mist), which included Titania, Seth, Franz, Vanessa, Syrene, Saar, Forde, Kyle, Moulder, Oscar, Tanith, and Oscar and Tanith's green-haired son, had happened by happenstance upon Carcino, the most important of all the countries of Magvel. So important, in fact, that the King of Carcino did not have a single citizen willing to join his army. Clearly, it was not because they did not want to get massacred by those of their neighbors that could have annexed Carcino easily (which happened to be all of them), but because they felt incredibly safe in a puny country with no formal military that was ruled over by an aged, pointless plutocrat. Carcino was not a hereditary monarchy, its king was actually selected through the glory of Democracy, that is, a council of aged, pointless plutocrats came together and decided which one of them was most qualified to be king. Their choice was usually the most aged, pointless, and plutocratic of them all. In this way, not only was Carcino unique in Magvel, but it also bears absolutely no resemblance to any country in the real world, that is, the world in which the esteemed Author of this fantastical and festively epic tale exists.

However, on their way to Jehanna, Eirika and Co. thought it would be a good idea to stop in Carcino to demand troops to aid them in their holy, righteous, and festive crusade to turn Magvel into the Holy Broman Empire. Therefore, they approached the King of Carcino in his dressing room, which was unusually large, for it had been made that way by the ancient architects who originally intended for it to be a posh, indoor battlefield for the rich and bloodthirsty. Oscar, who was teaching Kyle the way of the Green Cavalier, instructed the latter to stand by politely and quietly while the Red Cavalier, Forde, who was under instruction from Titania, shouted:

"We demand troops to aid us in our holy, righteous, and festive crusade to turn Magvel into the Holy Broman Empire!"

Forde had to repeat this most eloquent, poetic and festive piece of rhetoric several times, as the King of Carcino was too busy admiring his new robe and beard, both of which made him look very aged, pointless, and plutocratic, which were the three most desirable traits in Carcinoan society. Also, he was hard of hearing. When he finally did respond, he said, "Bromrades, I am afraid that there has never been a single professional soldier in the long, pointless, and plutocratic history of Carcino."

Suddenly, a frighteningly cold and unfestive feeling came over the King of Carcino. Aginst his will, he said, "However, if it is troops that ye want, it is troops that ye shall receive! NIGA NIW I!"

With this, the King of Carcino raised up his arms, and summoned a hoard of skeletons, zombies, centaurs, minotaurs, chimeras, gargoyles, giant spiders, and worst of all, foul-smelling and thoroughly unpleasant middle school principals. It was then that the King of Carcino, with horrified horror, realized that he was being possessed by the evil, nefarious, unholy and unfestive Morb Rats through his beard. I knew I shouldn't have trusted a beard salesman that looked like someone put Brom in Photoshop and inverted the colors! he thought to himself.

The two sides promptly engaged in combat. The middle school principals were slain first, for they were seen as the biggest threat to our holy, righteous and festive crusaders, even though their only means of defense were bullshit reasons to give kids detention and the ability to shout said bullshit reasons very loudly. After they had been disposed of, most of the good guys turned their attention to the more powerful but strangely less threatening monsters. However, Seth (who thought himself to be Greil) noticed that Innes, Saleh, and Marisa had somehow been summoned along with the monsters and were standing around, wondering why they were fighting alongside such fiendish fiends.

Seth shouted, "Look hither! I see Magvellians who look awfully familiar, which is strange, seeing as I am clearly from Tellius!"

His Bromrades, who had already finished off their fiendishly fiendish foes since their status as good guys made them ridiculously overpowered, quickly welcomed the threesome into their manysome. However, they noted that the King of Carcino was still the unwilling, unholy, unfestive, and perverted vessel of Morb, and discussed what should be done about the situation. Innes finally resolved that he should kill him, and justified this idea with a passage from the Bromble:

"Every good Prince deserves to kill a king, for the good of ye olde Bromopedia Recent Deaths Page." ~Regicides 2:66

While the others stood in awe of these magnificent and munificent words, Innes strung a gilded arrow and shot it through the aged, pointless, and plutocratic heart of the King of Carcino. As Morb's spirit left the king's dying body, it crackled and cackled, "YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE LAST OF ME! WE SHALL MEET AGAIN, CHILDREN OF BROM!"

Brom's humble, agreeable, and festive followers howled and covered their ears upon hearing the evil words that slipped so nefariously and unfestively from Morb's blue tongue. Once they had recovered, Saleh told Eirika/Mist that they should make one more detour before they meet back up with the main force in Jehanna. "You see, I think it would be most helpful to our army if we recruited my ex-girlfriend Myrrh," said the Sage, even though he knew fully well that they were already more than capable of obliterating Morb and his allies.

Eirika/Mist agreed, but inquired one thing of Saleh before they took the first step of their long journey of over a thousand pixels: "Wait... Ex-girlfriend?"

"Yeah, she ran off with some loser named Kurth, don't know what she sees in him. I mean, he has way more HP than a normal guy should have, and yet the bum still doesn't fight!"

-------------------------------------------------------

As Brom's army prepared for battle, arming themselves and putting on their armor (or lack thereof), Brom was festively busy writing his latest journal entry in his big brown Brombly tent. The language he wrote in, of course, was Holy Broman, the holiest and brombliest of all languages, a language invented by Holy Brom himself, for the holy and righteous reason that he was a festively illiterate bumpkin. If reproduced in its original form, its holiness and Brombliness may be too much for the mortal eyes that read this ingenious history to bear, and they would be overcome with the Brombly spirit of Brom and become one with Brom, which, while it is the most desirable fate in the whole of the Brombliverse, it robs one of the experience of experiencing Fire Bromblem for the first time. Therefore, being the great and glorious individual that he is, the divine genius who writes this history has provided an English translation of the entry, even though the meaning of Holy Broman words and phrases are so profound that it cannot be translated into any other language without becoming absolutely meaningless:

Woke up. Belched blissfully and farted festively before rollin' outta bed over Meg's head an' givin' her an aneurysm. Laughed at'er fer a bit, 'cuz dead girls is funny. After I'd had mah fun gave her a special bottle of Brom's Festive Temptation t'bring her back t' life an' read Grandma Brom's Getting-Out-of-Bed Stories, Six Erotic Tales for Children by J.D. Salinger to her. Went t' spy on th' enemy's fortifications an' I almost got mahself caught. This here Generic Soldier came up t'me an' asked, "Whaddaya doin'?" an' I was like "Spyin' on yer army" an' he was like "Oh okay."

But while I was spyin' I sawed this here pile of feces an' fell madly in love with it an' said to it "I am madly in love with you and I earnestly and festively believe you to be the most beautiful woman in all Abromination will you marry mee?"

An' then we was married an' we had sexual relations and the pile of feces became pregnant.

At this point, it may be difficult for many readers to deduce the obvious fact that Brom must now clear the area of all bad guys in order to protect the beautiful woman known as Pile of Feces and her unborn child, due to the fact that they are still experiencing not a few orgasms from Brom's epic, florid, and delightfully festive prose. Don't worry, we can wait.

Take your time.

Okay, seriously? Now you're just making a mess. You won't be able to scroll down to read the rest of this sacred story if your keyboard gets any stickier.

So, once all were prepared for battle, Brom began the festive march to victory by festively bellowing, festively rolling himself into a ball, and festively getting himself stuck in the swamp. Surely, this was the work of Whorespar and her band of evil and incredibly old and incompetent (not to mention incontinent) warlocks, and had nothing to do with the fact that the fattest man in Magvel had just tried to roll through the murkiest and densest bog in Magvel. To make matters festively worse, Selena was now hitting the Festive Feuhrer with long range Lightning magic attacks, resulting in increasingly devastating 'No Damage' clinks.

Thankfully, through the mercy and goodwill of Brom and Brom alone, Prince Lyon bounced his way to the top of Brom's immobilized figure, giving the prince a bird's eye view of Za'Albul Marsh. He unleashed the almighty power of Franny and Zooey upon the unsuspecting Generic Soldiers, who had probably never heard of J.D. Salinger much less read something written by him, seeing as they didn't have faces. All the bad guys except Selena were promptly and festively blasted one hundred thousand trillion parsecs across the universe and destroyed forever. Selena, with help from the power of Whorespar, was able to create her own force field to push against that of Lyon's, which made for a spectacular, phantasmagorical, and spectacularly, phantasmagorically overused cliche of a face-off.

It seemed that their stalemate would last for endless seconds, long enough even for the retards using Internet Explorer to view this page to finish this paragraph, until the Millennium Falcon came bursting through both force fields and crash-landed quite conveniently into the very spot where the scattered particles once known as Selena Whorespar had been standing. The wrecked remains of the once-almost presentable spacecraft split open and from it emerged Brom and Danved's long-lost son, Billy Dee Williams, being followed by two other figures who were still obscured by the smoke that hung around for a long time after the incident.

Brom, who had magically and festively freed himself from his precarious and peculiar position, cried out in festive unison with Danved: "Billy Dee Williams, we are your proud papas, come down to us and let us teach you how to love!"

"Nay, Bromrades, I am not Billy Dee Williams but Lando Calrissian, and these are my friends, Han Solo and Chewbacca!" responded Billy Dee Williams in a voice so deep and Brombly that it caused both his fathers to weep softly and consume Ben and Jerry's while reading novels by Nicholas Sparks.

The two figures stepped forward, revealing themselves to be Harrison Ford and Ernest Hemingway in a furry suit. Harrison Ford apologized to the Lord of Lard, humbly trying to explain that Billy Dee Williams had invented strange names for all of his friends, a mental impairment that the Galaxy's greatest scientists were convinced was caused by evil warlocks and had absolutely nothing to do with his long family history of incest.

Brom festively accepted Harrison Ford's apology, and after a quick lascivious glance at Hemingway's furry suit, he chose to ignore them until the next chapter, for L'Arachel, Tethys, Cormag, Duessel, Dozla, and Rennac (who was still tied up and being led around by Dozla) had suddenly burst out of their hiding place (which had not hid them very well), ready to fight in the battle that had just ended.

Knoll, always the inquirer, inquired of the group, "Why is Rennac tied up?"

After Dozla had given his brilliant and reasonable explanation that can be read and enjoyed in Chapter 8x, he added a further level of complexity to his conundrum causing all who were present to praise Dozla's oratorical skills: "My beard has discovered that my beard cannot free Rennac from his binds. However, my beard happens to know that the only person who knows how to undo them is a Rogue who hangs around Grado Keep, and if my beard is to find this person, then my beard may be able to free Rennac!"

It was thus that the decision to march towards Grado Keep was decided, and had nothing to do with the fact that it was the next logical step in their journey. However, there was still one crucially important matter that had yet to be dealt with, which was brought up by L'Arachel: "O Brom, though it be the will of Brom that Brom take over Rausten and make it a part of the Holy Broman Empire, I still implore thee to appoint a head of state. You see, Rausten is a Dogmatic Theocracy, and it seems we cannot find any theocrats dogmatic enough to be Supreme Dogmatician of the Theocratic and Dogmatic Dogmatic Theocracy of Rausten."

This concerned Brom greatly, for in Holy Broman society as it is every society, theocracy is the ideal form of government, and dogma is the ideal form of theocracy. However, the prayers they never prayed were answered, for at that very moment, the pile of feces gave birth to a boy, the Seventy-Third Son and Ninety-First Child of Brom. Brom picked up the child, and festively declared: "This little one shall be taken to Rausten, where he shall be raised by the most dogmatic of all dogmas and the most theocratic of all theocracies! Once he has proven himself to be theocratic and dogmatic enough to become Supreme Dogmatician of the Theocratic and Dogmatic Dogmatic Theocracy of Rausten, he shall become such, and he shall be known to all as: Santorum!"

All praised Brom for his wise and festive wisdom as they marched onward to Grado Keep, except for Cormag, who praised Brom for his wise and festive wisdom as he flew young Santorum to Rausten.

Edited March 23, 2012 by Star Brom

[Anouleth]

oh derp

Edited April 6, 2012 by Anouleth

[Star Brom]

Chapter 10: The Smeargled Maiden

As our most noble and righteous Bromrades trudged trudgingly (but not grudgingly) across the continent, messengers spread the Brombly news of the Holy Broman Empire to all corners of Magvel, even those corners that did not exist because Magvel was not a perfect square, and those that had yet to be seized by the Holy Broman Empire, though they were filled with dangerous and heathenish heathens who had committed the most sinfully sinful of all sinfully sinful sins: not worshiping Brom. The fact that most were isolated peasants who had never even heard the name of the Festive Feuhrer was, of course, no excuse, and would not save them from the painful deaths that they would inevitably and festively meet.

In accordance with Holy Broman custom (which Brom had made up on a whim at some point in this amazing and festive Odyssey), the scripts from which the messengers would read were so lengthened by praise of Brom that the volumes on which the message was printed weighed almost as much as Brom himself. This subsequently caused the unnecessary deaths of many a pageboy, due to the utter exhaustion all but very strongest suffered from while carrying their message from town to town, or from village to village, or from hamlet to hamlet, or from shithole to shithole, whichever applied. It just so happened that every able-bodied male in the Holy Broman Empire that did not join Brom's army (except, of course, for those fighting in the puny armies of Morb and Grado, which were opposing Brom) was forced to become a messenger for the Holy Broman Empire. This meant that the male population of Magvel was devastated, which might have spelled doom for the gene pool were it not for the Lord of Lard's festively legendary virility.

Though their fates may at first seem unfortunate, do not feel bad for these lost souls, dear reader. One must imagine thyself in a similar position, and the indescribable amount of joy one would feel if one knew that one would shortly die from fatigue and that one's love interest, be they male, female, or inanimate, would shortly be shipped off to become a concubine of Brom for the rest of their lives.

However, there was one individual who was tragically unable to correctly grasp this glorious and festive concept. His name was Solitaire, or at least, that is how he referred to himself, to reflect the solitude he felt from the rest of humanity with an artistic flair. He, as a Magvellian, was not aware that he had named himself for the card game that is played in a different dimension by a multitude of fat fools who are supposed to be doing their real jobs, which usually involve denying insurance coverage to impoverished children with terminal diseases.

Solitaire was born in the capital of Grado, the illegitimate son of Brom and a generic whore. As a child of Brom, he showed remarkable talent in all forms of everything, and was accepted into Grado's most prestigious university, Grandma Gharnef's School for Little Villains, at the age of 2.7 seconds, though he was not aware of his Brombly heritage, nor was anyone around him. Sadly, his Holy Broman instincts were corrupted because he had chosen to fill his head with the demons of Knowledge and Wisdom instead of purifying himself with perpetual study of the Bromble. He therefore turned away from his natural inclinations for wholesome values such as holiness, piety, prudence, purity, conservatism, festiveness, and Brombliness in favor of the hollow vanities of Truth and Beauty.

It was while retaining these thoroughly unholy, impious, imprudent, impure, socialist, unfestive, and Morbid thoughts that he was recruited as an emissary for the Holy Broman Imperial Messengers of the Holy Broman Empire. This occurred, strangely enough, five years before Grand Holy Emperor Brom's Grand, Holy, Imperial and Brombly Ass landed in the forest just outside Renais Castle in Chapter 1. As per his request, Solitaire was sent to the bucolic and creatively-named region of Paradisum.

Paradisum, to the righteous mind of Brom, was the most unpleasant place in Grado, and perhaps in the world. This was because it was made of naught but pastures of the greenest grass that can be found, where well-tempered cows, horses, and sheep grazed peacefully under the guidance of wise and amiable shepherds. The land not used for grazing was covered year-round with forget-me-nots, lilacs, sunflowers, tulips, roses, poppies, Queen Anne's Lace, tiger lilies, and countless other flowers that bloomed with the most vibrant blues, greens, yellows, oranges, reds, violets, pinks, the brightest whites, the deepest blacks. The weather was almost always temperate and sunny, and the rare occasion of precipitation only seemed to make things even more beautiful. So great was the pastoral appeal of the landscape that it reached across the boundaries of time and space, bringing in an angry German who composed symphonies full of fire and passion, melting his melodies into sweet odes to his newly-discovered love of life.

The region's few inhabitants were unflinchingly and unfailingly kind people, who preferred minimalistic, wordless songs over poetry, for though they were pleasant they were simple, untouched by the great articulate minds of the outside world. This distressed Brom greatly, for these people had never even conceived that a work as holy and festively brilliant as the Bromble could exist, and they lived horrifyingly free of religious dogma.

It is thus why Brom needed a bright and perceptive young scholar like Solitaire to work extensively at bringing down Paradisum, to turn its hideous rainbow of hues into a consistent and controlled display of the glorious golden-browns of the Holy Broman Empire, and to firmly established Holy Broman values amongst the local heathens so that they too could forever bask in the blessed bigotry of the Church of Brom.

Solitaire's journey to Paradisum was an easy and pleasurable one, for he was greeted, entertained, and fed by friendly folk fifteen times, even though the journey to his residence was only supposed to last mere minutes. In addition, he did not have to carry the bulbous bumblings of Brom contained in the pamphlet that other Holy Broman messengers had to carry, for that pamphlet would not exist for another five years. However, due to the perversions of his mind previously described, he was overwhelmed by the amount of Truth and Beauty he found in his new surroundings, and much to Brom's disgust, he worked to maintain Paradisum's sickening health rather than destroy it. Unlike in the city, where he had felt lost in a sea of million faceless faces, here Solitaire had found true happiness, and he had but one concern: Everyone born and raised in Paradisum did not concern themselves with what Solitaire and his fellow Grandma Gharnef scholars called "Intellectual Capacity," and he feared that he may once again grow lonely if he was never accompanied by an equally sophisticated mind.

This fear was allayed when he learned that there was indeed another outsider in Paradisum, a lovely maiden, who had been sent away from her home city (which she happened to share with our good and festive Bromrade Solitaire) to continue her studies in Brombolology after her wealthy father discovered that she had been seduced by her instructor, who had used his evil warlock powers to trick her into shouting, "Punish mee, you sexy beast!" while ripping off her clothes, jumping on top of him while he was slyly pretending to be asleep in his bed, and worst of all, getting her to claim that she had done it all by her own free will! This is, of course, perfectly acceptable behavior under normal circumstances, but it just so happened this Brombologist also happened to be a Bromeranian, or, a member of an extreme sect of the Church of Brom that committed the high heresy of publishing a version of the Bromble that changes the book of Proper Procedure for the Worship and Praise of Brom to "Proper Procedure for the Praise and Worship of Brom," knowing fully well that excessive alliteration is one of the Seven Billion Deadly Sins! The maiden's father was therefore justified in sending his daughter away and giving her seducer a root canal that festively lacked anesthetics.

In his solitude, our prodigal son had grown in want of the fairer secks, in other words, he had suffered in want of the secks, but he cynically remembered (somewhat myopically) that all the women his age that he had known were pretty little fools who would one day turn into big ugly fools. He was of course, precise on this matter, since he knew millions of young women quite well, if one were to multiply those millions by nothing.

It just so happened that this particular maiden was not only the most attractive one he had ever met, but also, as he believed mostly because of her previous featured, that she was the first who could, just possibly be his intellectual equal. Over time, he became convinced that she was wanted by every man in Paradisum, due to previous experience (a sure sign that he had impeccable taste when it came to desiring partners for the secks) and took an entire year just to formulate some bullshit philosophy about how he should not give up on her, even if she had the entire world bewitched, just in case he was THE ONE. You know, THE ONE that comes and steals her away without any of the typical superfluous developments of romance, such as genuine affection, with such grace that even the maiden's jealous failed suitors would feel compelled to salute him with a single raised finger, signifying that he was THE ONE.

What Solitaire did not realize was that his competition was not as stiff as he thought it was, seeing as every other single man in Paradisum was a stupid fucking hick.

Now, many a curious reader will undoubtedly be asking the question that any serious and mature intellectual would ask at this point: Was she really that hot? Was she light-haired or dark-haired? What other physical traits will I be disappointed to learn about if they do not fit my personal preferences and/or fetishes?

Unfortunately, the great intellect of anyone discriminating enough to read only literature of as fine a caliber as Fire Bromblem will remain unsatisfied for the time being, for the only physical description of this particular maiden that is known to exist is a poem from one of Solitaire's journals. It does not go into very much detail, however, because it has been universally lauded by critics as the most ingenious use of anaphora in a poem since J.D. Salinger's epic The Fucknid, it is reproduced for your viewing pleasure below:

Oh, her hips!

Oh, her lips!

Oh, her bosom!

Oh, her arms!

Oh, her face!

Oh, her hair!

It is unsure if he ever recited this festively epic masterpiece to her, and if he did, it was most likely during one of the long nights that he sat in patient admiration of her beauty as she leaned out of her window and dropped upon his head any of her teeth that had rotted enough for her to remove without considerable difficulty. This was the time when Solitaire was at his most courageous, for she never heard his words of love over her own shrieks of "OGH! MEE FOCKIN' GOMS!"

...

i win agin

...What's that? You want to know her name? How the fuck am I supposed to know?!

Well, uh, I do know what Solitaire referred to her as. It's insipid, though. You see, she was an artist, and her father was so festively and fabulously wealthy that he was able to hire a Smeargle to be her artistic assistant, even though Smeargles don't exist. Together, they worked toward the goal of every artist that actually matters: to portray real life as realistically as possible, because as everyone knows, real life just isn't real enough. Through their combined efforts and countless milliseconds of excruciating attention to coloring inside the lines, they not only met their goal, but they met their goal with as much success as the great Salvador Dali. Therefore, Solitaire decided to call her The Smeargled Maiden, a title he thought very passionate and appropriate, but which caused even the illiterate farmers to cringe from the intense sensation of poetic injustice they experienced whenever he uttered the horrific honorific.

Finally, after stubbornly but silently adhering to his shitty philosophy for four years, he finally gathered up all the courage he had, and resolved to ask The Smeargled Maiden (agggggghhhkjkasdfsadfajkkkkklk!) if she would like to... like... do something sometime. He approached her carefully, so as not to disturb her during her morning dump, and opened his mouth to say something when suddenly all Bromxistence reverberated with a cry of:

"PRAISE BE TO BROM, STAR BROM, GRAND HOLY EMPEROR BROM, AND THE HOLY BROMAN EMPIRE!"

Paradisum trembled. Solitaire trembled. The Smeargled Maiden trembled and giggled stupidly as shit flew from her anus with such force that sewage splashed against her bottom. A giant, glorious, golden-brown ball of festive Brombliness was fast approaching.

Less than a minute later, Paradisum was exactly as Brom wanted it, and he continued to roll along towards Grado Keep.

i win agin agin

In the wake of Brom's festive destruction lay our two would-be lovers, both reduced to bloodied pulps. Solitaire was already dead, but The Smeargled Maiden would survive, even though she would spend the rest of her life even more horrifically deformed than she was before being Bromrolled. Do not weep for the poor darling, kind reader, for her affluent father solaced her by convincing Brom to take her as his eternal secks slave. This agreement was reached with great ease and convenience, for her affluent father was Brom.

Edited May 11, 2012 by Star Brom