Qi kicked off his Crocs of Sewer River Walking under the table and pushed the Ratboys towards his shopping bags and boxes and said “Oh! I almost forgot, my new shoes are perfect for dancing. Boys! Fetch the shoebox labeled R’uggs and come cinderella me.” He raised and pointed his bare foot towards them like a disney princess.

The boys looked at each other and sighed. They did as they were told and unboxed:

High Heeled Uggs of Sewer Dancing- Special effect: when you are not looking, there is a 10% chance they will magically spawn another pair of R’uggs until the room or entryway is filled. +30 fashion points.

Where the crocs were comfortable and utilitarian, these hideous and monstrous boots were a perversion of both form and function. The rat fashionistas decided that these boots needed laces, velcro, and buttons; that's right, all three, in a mind boggling design that did nothing to secure the floppy and furred top of the knee high boots.

The top of the R’uggs flared up and out into a pair of basket handles and funneled down into an instep that was at least two sizes too small. To complete this barely wearable artwork of discomfort, the boots had 6” heels that ended in razor sharp stilettos.

The Ratboys each grabbed a basket handle, taking care not to cut themselves on the heel, then struggled to tug these ugly and uncomfortable boots onto Qi’s feet. 

The boys pulled on the boot handles for a solid 5 minutes and started sweating from their efforts. The entire rat restaurant decided to get in on the action and began to cheer them on.

A drunken Geppetto wanted to show off to the crowd, so he tied Travis’s hair to the boot handle and activated his Giddyup skill. The rat boy winnied and got on all fours and started pulling like a draft horse. With a sickening pop all the bones in Qi’s foot dislocated and the limp limb flopped into the boot.

Qi quickly untied a healing condom and poured half of the contents into the boot. “It’s ok, I have high pain resistance. Gota endure and sacrifice for your dreams you know? Now the other boot please.”

The rodent diners cheered when both boots were finally on and they all sent rounds of beers to their table in congratulations.

Geppetto stood up and waved his cowboy hat to the crowd, then snagged another 20oz the size of his body from a passing waiter. The drunk humanquesterian tried to chug the Fosters on top of Travis’s head again but lost control of the can. Half the beer ran down the ratboy’s head and into his eye sockets, drenching him.

Qi wobbled painfully in his new shoes, ankles bending 90 degrees left and right as he tried to regain his balance. The rat restaurant audience gasped and winced in sympathy. The Ratboys grasped his arms for balance and Qi finally stood up straight and said, “dancing is all about momentum boys, watch this.”

With his years of ritualized turn based battle dancing experience under his belt, Qi realized that these boots weren't made for walking. So he twirled, spinning round and round faster and faster, like an astrozorian dancer who had just watched the Sound of Music for the first time. He extended his arms for balance and twirled like a spinning top up and down all the while kicking out his legs.

Seeing his chance to practice his bard skills, Tyrone rushed the stage and grabbed the mike. He sang:

“ra ra Rasputin,

lover of the russian queen,

there was a rat that was really mean,

ra ra Rasputin,

Rat City’s greatest love machine,

he had no shame how he carried on…”

And all the rats began to sing along as Qi danced, spun, and kicked to the music. His Cloak of Confusion created a magical sight as it spun round and round creating a kaleidoscope of colors around him.

Ishmael frowned at the mention of Russia and the ripped off lyrics, but the music was too good and she eventually found herself clapping along.

Everyone was happy except for Travis, who sat on the edge of the stage crying Beers for Tears as a sprawled out alcoholic rat slept off his drink on the top of his head.

“Shout, shout, let it all out,

These are the things I can not do without,

Come on, I’m talking about you, come on…”

*Level UP! You have gained two levels of BARD for ripping off classic songs.*

Eventually, in the wee morning hours, the supply of beers had finally run out and Rat Chef asked for final calls. Seeing that all the drunk patrons were slow to move, he whispered a song request to Tyrone to play the campers off.

“Never gonna make you cry,

Never gonna say goodbye,

Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you…”

After finishing his last set, Tyrone gently put a hand on Travis’s shoulder and said “common mate, let's go home.”

When the music finally ended, Qi spun down and grabbed his crotch, “I gotta pee, can someone point me to the loo?”

Karen- “Sure i’ll show you.” She angled her hips towards the river front and lifted her hind leg. Out shot a terrible torrent of yellow urine across the table they were just eating off of and into the sewer river. It was as if a lorry had crashed into a fire hydrant and a city water main had broken at the same time. The level of the sewer river actually rose a bit.

Qi stumbled over and leaned against the side of the table and pulled out his own ripe fruit. “Ah a pissing contest I see! You got me beat by volume sheela, but have a look at what I can do!”

With his surgically enhanced prostate, he began pooping out of this peepee. During his rehab, Qi had learned that by flexing his abs in weird ways, he was able to control how he peed and pooped to create profane patterns of foul water art. He even attempted to challenge Karen by crossing her stream by peeing through it, but the PSI of his pee was no match for the Karen's watery waste.

After five long minutes, Qi finally collapsed to his knees and passed out in dehydration and defeat. The Ratboys walked over, tried pulling his pants back on, then gave up and started dragging Qi home between them.

Ishmael got up to go with them.

“Hey girl, where ya going? You can come live in the castle with me.”

The girl bowed to the giant dog and said, “thanks for the offer my queen but I have my own place to sleep.”

“Alright, suit yourself girl. Wait a minute, Rat Chef, bring me an extra large doggy bag.” With the rat chef holding the XL garbage bag open, Karen used her giant tail like a shop broom to sweep the urine misted leftovers off the table and into said bag.

She pointed a lazy paw at Ishmael and the bag said, “for the children.”

“Just make sure you show up for work at the crack of noon tomorrow to clean up the castle, the place is filling up with garbage.” Then Karen began to lick her crotch clean.

The ratboys continued to drag the passed out drunk and exhausted Qi. Tyrone wanted to tie Travis’s hair to their load and drag the body that way but Gep was still out cold. Ishmael followed close behind them, hefting a giant bag of leftovers over her shoulder.

When they finally got home, the Ratobys pulled Qi up into the tub first, using him like a mattress topper. The tall xianxia crossover’dresser did not quite fit in the tub so they left his feet hanging out of the side.

Tyrone- “should we take off his R’Uggs?”

Travis- “No mate, real Australians sleep with our boots on.”

Ishmael dropped the bag of leftovers in front of Peggie Sue and Billy Bob’s coffin’s and told them to share with the other kids. A mini food riot ensued but there was enough that even the little kids managed to snag something to eat.

Then they all crawled into the tub and piled in on top of Qi. It was a tight fit for 4 people and 1 rat but everyone was tired and full, so they did not care.

Just as they were all about to fall asleep, Tyrone asked, “Hey Ishmael, how come you didn't go sleep in a comfy castle with Karen?”

She pokes the snoring Qi under her. “It’s safer to sleep with a self-cannibal than a drunk Karen.”