Alright, so you have a little bit of a dream, and you get shit all over trying to grasp it. Mad fucking dumb, right? Maybe it ain't for you, you start to think. Kicking rocks seems like a legit choice.
Wrong motherfucker! You dust that doodoo off you, and keep ya feet movin' forward! Greg knew that, even as he took five after getting dumped on his ass. You see, your boy has a dream. And this kitten wasn’t getting psyched out now, hell no!
Okay mountain, prepare to get climbed you big rocky fucker! Greg wiggled his floppy little paws to shake off the bad vibes of failure. Glory belongs to those who chase it, he knew the deal.
He took a long hard look at this craggy bastard that towered over him, how the fuck had he gotten up it running at all?! Oh shit, the meat pebble Sir-Shiftsalot gave him, the stingy weirdo.
Fella had been swapping faces faster than Greg swaps spit with the bottom of his food bowl, dude was off. Whatever they were kept talking about some wacko shit, “The Capsule.”
It all had been straight up weird since then. TINK! Greg’s ear flicks up, what in the ham sandwich? That’s the meat pebble noise, and it’s coming from above. Fuck logic, if he ran up once then he’d do it again, and this time he was gonna make it!
You ever just been high as fuck on catnip? That’s how Greg felt, except instead of being unable to stop rubbing his face on the floor, he couldn’t stop jumping! He felt so damn good, shit was fly!
It felt like he was in tune with the crevices and cracks along the mountain's face. Eye of the tiger echos out all around him, but this ain't a montague, it’s thug motivation in the moment!
Yeah, he takes some hits, scratching his damn side as he misjudges a jump. He might not have fancy feet, but he had something better- a real strong love for food! He hops and dodges until… he can see the top! Fuck yes.
The last bit is the smoothest, there is a slope of rock just a few feet up that will take him to the top easy-peasy! TINK! There it is again, Greg scrambles up onto flatish footing, and races towards the sound. That climb made a MF hungry!
He doesn’t even look around when he gets to the top, missing the view of the forest that stretches for miles, ya boi has priorities. Where’s the grub? He follows the sound, which brings him to… a rat? The fuck.
Greg figures, shit I can start with the rat, then have the pebbles. He goes in to give it the two piece special, when he is thrown backwards by an invisible force. “Don’t try that again, or I’ll toss you back down the hill.” The Rat sneers. Cool cool.
It lights a cigarette, eyeing Greg up. “I wondered if you’d make it, to be honest I didn’t think you would…” It takes a long drag, using both paws to hold the cig. “You passed the test though, good job you lil shit!”
Exhaling it continues, “We’d like to offer you an opportunity. I represent the guild of magical animals. We are currently recruiting battlemages, and you’ve shown great potential.” He’s dead ass serious.
