Enter the "Do Not Enter" room, at your own peril. Maybe they won't mind the intrusion.
Upon entering the smell of cheese overpowers you. You bring your non-striking hand to your face to stifle the overpowering stench.
The room is unreasonably big. Like really, really big. Massive. If you had to come up with a measurement system to quantify it's dimensions you would probably be the sort of person who had not heard of the metric system. Let's just say it's as big as five swimming pools, that's pretty big.
Inside the room giant Heraldic Rats are stacking an awful lot of cheese.
"Forsooth! What the hell are you doing in my Tower of Evil!".
Forsooth looks up from a cheese wheel and stares blankly at you.
"Alright, guvnor — the Witch said we could use this to store our cheese".
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Just Chatting 
"Watch out for the striking hand... it's coming for you."
Just Chatting 
"I think I have a new favorite word...mincing! Hahahaha..."
Just Chatting "I'm still trying to figure out why this story was posted in Erotica. Maybe someone will surprise me. :p"
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading a branch in the story
Lord McUbbthroat. This branch
was posted on January 9, 2008 by
Meccabilly.
This story is filed under:
Fantasy, Mature Themes
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