Work Text:
Skyrim wasn't always like this, it used to be a land full of adventure and medieval charm. Now it is a land of chaos; Spidermans run around with abandon, troll faced trolls attack travelers who flee from werechairs,Sanics flail as they run down the road, and giant mud crabs destroy villages; there is only one who can save us from this horrible plight: Me. I climb onto the back of Twilight Sparkle with my best friend Gleda the Goatborn at my side. We ride to the train station. We have been summoned by Rachel Maddow, the font of all wisdom, who claims to have foreseen how I would save our land from the evil overlord Macho Dragon Randy Savage. We arrive at the train station, and Gleda goes to buy our tickets as I put Twilight away in the stables. I arrive at the platform with Gleda just as Thomas the Train pulls in. As we climb aboard I notice what a wreck the car is in. Stuffing is hanging out of the seats. We slide past two Khajit who appear to be doing a skooma deal to get to some free seats. I admittedly zoned out for a little while, thinking of the great scholar we were going to see, only to be startled from my stupor by an excited chittering noise. When I look over I am treated to the sight of a gaunt Argonian with bright purple frills. Startled to see one of the lizard people so far from water, I stutter out a greeting. The frail, almost bird-like creature explains that their name is Delves-in-Feathers and they are primarily a fletcher, but has begun to dabble in creating headdresses and war armors, and that they have made war armors for Gleda and I, seeing as they are our biggest fan (Gleda muttering that this was far superior to a certain pointy haired wood elf).They reach into the bag and pull out a glittering mass of feathers and metal, a truly beautiful work of art. Murmuring that it is for Gleda, they offer to assist Gleda in getting into the armor. As she does not have hands, Gleda quickly agreed. Once the feathers adorn her fur, she jumps about excitedly. The lizard then hands me a mass of bent and crumpled feathers in awkward grey and green hues. The combined color is vaguely reminiscent of bile. The Argonian claims that this is their greatest work. I put it in my satchel, claiming I didn't want to damage it. A notice pops up in the left hand corner of the screen, saying "Chicken Armor Added". When I finally shake the ill feeling that can only be described as the breaking of a theoretical wall from my stomach, the train pulls to a stop and Gleda is shaking my shoulders with her hooves. The disembodied voice of Steve Benen greets us at the station. He claims to be a "blogger" for the great Rachel Maddow, whatever that is. He gives us directions to Rachel's 'Studio.' When we get there, Rachel is meditating in front of something called a "dictionary." Susan, the famed consort of Rachel, gifts me with a staff adorned with three faces at its tip, claiming that when the time comes, I will know what to do. We finally approach Rachel, her blazer glowing with magical enchantments and the ears of a Khajit upon her head. Her eyes open as we approach. I'm not sure if she sees us, or the beyond. I clear my throat loudly.Rachel declares that we are not to ignore the heads of crustaceans, and that we need to kill Macho Dragon Randy Savage. Shortly after this, we leave. As Gleda and I walk along the riverbed together, I turn to tell her, to finally tell her how I feel, when we were approached by a mudcrab in a top hat and monocle who runs up to us and begins telling us about how the village he lives in is currently under attack by a dragon that is yelling about how his current temperature affects peoples ability to handle him and 'slim jims.' He begs for our help, declaring that the people are hopeless and the city guard has fled. We agree to help and quickly travel to the village, the sound of screams and the smell of smoke greeting us as we approach the location of the attack. Macho Dragon Randy Savage circles overhead, his roars of "towers of power" striking fear into my heart. In a moment of distraction, I suddenly hear a war cry. A red faced man who is screaming "we'll do it live!" charges at me. Gleda leaps in front of me, taking the full force of the attack. The man falls, but so does Gleda, I cry as her body thuds to the ground. My best friend and one love, cut down by a red faced screaming maniac, I never told her. The man stands once more and I prepare to strike, a scream of grief rising in my throat. Rachel Maddow floats down from the heavens, a beautiful beacon of impenetrable logic. She yells, "Turn and face me, O'Reilly! Face the wrath of Rachel!" and fires lasers from her eyes, disintegrating the man. Macho Dragon Randy Savage lands before me, dirt and debris flying up around him, the force of the impact blowing my robes back. The camera pans out... and... this would make a good shot for a video game trailer... I pull out the staff Susan gave me. I finally know what I need to do.Throwing myself backwards to avoid a fireball, I use the staff. A ball of light explodes from the faces of the staff tip and I hear the sound of Sheogorath's laughter enveloping me, protecting me from the blast.
The light crashes into the dragon and he explodes into cheese and sweet rolls. Everything slows down, objects teleport and clip through one another. I feel myself lagging, the tears running down my face slowing to a halt. Slowly, everything stops.
Henry Rollins looks at the computer screen, his character frozen in place, and thinks that he probably should not have downloaded so many mods. He reaches over and holds down the power button for seven seconds, mouthing Mississippi as he counts.
...Wait a second. Henry Rollins doesn't play video games, he collects vinyl records and writes books for fun. What on earth is going on here?!?
You sit up suddenly in bed, your head spinning and sweat collecting on your brow. Your mouth feels dry and gritty. You cough into your hand and when you pull it back it contains traces of glitter.You definitely shouldn't have had that glass of Mabel Juice™ before bed. Really Stan, you should know by now not to drink anything that has plastic dinosaurs in it. That stuff is like coffee and nightmares had a baby. You set your fez upon your head and head downstairs. Maybe a Pitt-Cola™ can get the glitter out of your mouth and the thoughts of this strange dream out of your head.