The Majestic Dragon (Is Actually Just a Menace)
As it turned out, that colossal, crimson-scaled dragon soaring gracefully over the medieval village was not a symbol of heavenly peace. It was actually just a highly aggressive, incredibly hungry asshole.
Down in the dirt paths of the village, a small, terrified child was sprinting for his absolute life. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, his little hand-woven tunic flapping wildly in the wind as the massive dragon swooped down, desperately trying to make the kid its morning breakfast. The dragon's jaws snapped aggressively, missing the boy by mere inches and taking a massive bite out of a wooden fence instead.
Out in the nearby fields, a villager abruptly stopped tilling the land. He dropped his heavy wooden hoe, his eyes widening in horror as he noticed the giant reptile chasing his youngest son through the town square.
The father immediately sprinted toward the village as fast as his peasant legs could carry him, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Somebody save my flesh and blood from this flying, dickless, infertile overgrown lizard!" the father yelled frantically, waving his arms in the air. He suddenly paused his sprinting for a split second, looking highly conflicted. "Wait... actually, upon logical reflection, my kid is a relentless, absolute little shit-stain! But I still have a moral obligation to save his ungrateful ass from that scaled bastard!"
The Heir to the Dirt Farm
Meanwhile, safely sitting on the very top of a thatched-roof hut, the child's big brother was watching the entire life-or-death chase unfold like it was a premium cinematic movie.
He didn't look panicked at all. In fact, he was completely relaxed, swinging his legs off the edge of the roof with a massive, highly devious smirk stretched across his face.
"Hah!" the big brother laughed darkly to himself, his eyes locked onto the dragon closing in on his sibling. "My little shit-faced, demon-spawning, dick-ass excuse for a brother is finally about to get liquefied!"
The older brother leaned back against the straw roof, looking up at the sky in pure, unfiltered capitalist joy.
"This is the greatest day of my life," he celebrated maliciously. "Now I am going to legally inherit every single piece of fucking property from that useless, perverted old bastard I call a father! The farm, the pigs, the premium hoes—everything is finally going to be mine!"
The Unidentified Falling Object
Down in the village square, the dragon let out a terrifying roar, diving down for the final killing strike. The little brother tripped over a rock, falling face-first into the dirt. It was over. The dragon's massive jaws opened wide—
THUNK!
Suddenly, out of the clear blue sky, a heavy, metallic, cylindrical-shaped object violently plummeted downward at terminal velocity. It completely bypassed the thatched roofs and struck the dragon directly on the top of its thick, scaly head with a loud, mechanical crack.
The dragon froze, blinking its massive reptilian eyes in sheer confusion.
Before the beast could even react, the metallic cylinder hissed loudly. A highly pressurized nozzle popped open, instantly releasing a thick, violently concentrated cloud of synthetic gas directly into the dragon's nostrils.
The dragon took one massive sniff of the chemical gas. Its eyes immediately rolled all the way to the back of its head.
With a pathetic, high-pitched squeak that sounded nothing like a legendary monster, the massive dragon's knees buckled. It completely lost consciousness, violently crashing down into the village dirt with an earth-shattering BOOM, entirely missing the child.
The Broken Dream
On top of the hut, the big brother's devious smirk instantly vanished. His jaw dropped open in absolute, unfiltered horror as he stared at the unconscious dragon and his completely unharmed, highly annoying little brother.
His dreams of inheriting a highly lucrative medieval dirt-farm were completely shattered in a matter of seconds.
"No!!" the big brother screamed at the top of his lungs, violently ripping at his own hair. "Who the actual fuck has a twig so far up their own ass that they felt the need to knock out a majestic, motherfucking dragon?!"
He aggressively punched the thatched roof, completely losing his mind.
"My entire financial inheritance is ruined! No, no, no, no!" he cried out, glaring at the metallic cylinder releasing the last bit of gas. "How is this even physically possible?! I was going to monopolize all of this shit! The pigs! The premium dirt! All of it! But some righteous, fun-ruining son of a bitch just hijacked my destiny!"
The Biological Artillery
Exactly one and a half kilometers away from the edge of the medieval village, deeply hidden inside a patch of thick, unlandscaped bushes, the true identity of the dragon-slaying sniper was finally revealed.
It was Kniya.
The four corporate executives had literally spawned right into the middle of this unknown jungle immediately after being brutally murdered in the tax department office. They were still wearing their exact same clothes. Filoska was covered in leaves in her high-end corporate suit, Salesh was shivering in his casual clothes, Kniya was covered in dirt in his full expensive suit, and Malesh was calmly brushing a twig off his white shirt and dragon-themed silk tie.
Kniya was kneeling in the dirt, holding a massive, empty, metallic launch-tube over his shoulder. A highly devious, chaotic smirk was plastered across his face.
Malesh stood beside him, completely deadpan, staring through a pair of binoculars at the unconscious dragon in the distance.
"Yes. Finally," Malesh stated flatly, his voice devoid of any empathy. "That flying, oversized pigeon got neutralized in the absolute worst way possible. It was defeated by inhaling the most forbidden bioweapon known to our existence: the heavenly fart. That toxic gas was literally fermenting and compressed inside that cylinder for days. Kniya, you finally did it."
Kniya lowered the heavy, empty metallic tube from his shoulder, but instead of celebrating, he suddenly shivered, looking around the dense forest with a genuinely confused expression.
"Why am I getting the sudden feeling that someone is currently blessing me with their absolute worst cuss words?" Kniya muttered, aggressively popping a fresh bubble of mint gum. "I don't know why, but I am genuinely getting this strong feeling right now. Like I just randomly ruined some poor bastard's entire life dream, and they are cursing my existence."
Malesh smoothly adjusted his dragon-themed tie, not taking his eyes off the binoculars.
"Yeah, there might be a high chance of that," Malesh agreed mechanically. "But literally, look at the bright side. That giant, winged iguana just inhaled the most toxic, highly compressed fart of human beings all at once. Its central nervous system didn't stand a statistical chance."
The Corporate Panic
While Kniya and Malesh were casually discussing their highly toxic biological warfare, the other two executives were currently having a massive psychological breakdown.
"Okay, first of all!" Salesh shrieked, waving his arms hysterically at the trees. "Can someone please tell me in which fucking world we are currently in?! The absolute last time I remembered, we were literally sitting inside the tax department's office! A psycho government agent put a bullet in my chest! And now where are we?! What is this filthy jungle?! What is this disgusting green stuff on the ground—is this moss?! I am not able to understand this thing! My immune system is completely failing!"
"Shut up, Salesh, and stop breathing so loudly!" Filoska snapped viciously. She was furiously brushing mud off her expensive corporate skirt, her aristocratic face twisted in pure, unfiltered disgust. "But Salesh is actually making a valid point for once! Where the hell are we, and why am I standing in unpaved, unregulated dirt?!"
Filoska aggressively pointed a perfectly manicured finger back at Kniya and Malesh.
"That psychotic, supposedly honest government officer shot me right between the fucking eyes!" Filoska yelled, her aristocratic composure completely shattering as she touched her forehead, finding absolutely no blood. "I literally felt my premium brain cells die! And now we are just magically standing in a forest watching you two gas a giant, fire-breathing crocodile with a fart cannon?! This is completely unacceptable! I demand to speak to whoever is in charge of this geographical location right now!"
The Connectivity Crisis
Kniya slowly lowered the empty weapon, looking at Filoska like she had completely lost her mind.
"Filoska, who exactly are you planning to speak to?" Kniya asked, aggressively popping his mint gum. "Do you honestly think there is a premium customer service desk hidden behind that giant oak tree? We are standing in the middle of a completely unregulated, primitive ecosystem. There is no regional manager here, there is no HR department, and there is certainly no complaint box for you to drop your grievances into. We literally just watched a giant flying lizard get knocked out by a biological weapon, and your first executive decision is to ask to speak to the person in charge?"
"Well, I am definitely checking my corporate phone!" Salesh panicked, aggressively patting down his casual jacket pockets. He yanked out his incredibly expensive, dial-pad corporate phone and stared at the tiny, completely blank monochromatic screen in absolute horror. "Zero bars! There is absolutely no network connection! How am I supposed to get in contact with my Girlfriend?! If I don't call her by tonight, she is going to absolutely ruin my life!"
Malesh slowly turned around and stared at Salesh with supreme, unfiltered corporate disappointment.
"Salesh, I have a genuine question for you. Are you a total idiot, or just a half one? Please, just tell me in a pleasant way," Malesh sighed, heavily pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer, unadulterated executive exhaustion. "If you can clearly see with your own two eyes that this entire environment is completely unfamiliar to our world, why the fuck are you bringing out an analog dial-pad phone to dial a fucking number? Does that make any sense to you at all? Are you seriously acting like that one genetically incompetent, absolute loser side character present in every single cliché novel who violently refuses to accept he got reincarnated? Put that useless piece of plastic away before I physically shove it down your throat."