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Season 1, Episode 1
Vital statistics
Air date 08/26/2013
Written by Josh Henderson and Dom Moschitti
Directed by Josh Henderson and Dom Moschitti
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None Episode 2: Weapon Tales

Kevin holding his father's Bone Sword

This is the first episode of the series. It contains two stories about world creations.  Time of episode: 34:07

The Adventure of Darth and Kevin Edit

Hear ye, hear ye: submitted for the approval of the first episode of Fantasy Fiction, doth is the tale of Darth and Kevin, two adventurers who doth be ye old pussies be, doth.

Like all adventurers, they needed to prove themselves in battle as barbarians, and in the bedroom, because I read Joseph Campbell once.

Darth lived in a typical low-gold income bog where he and his mother toiled under the evil Bog King Daryl, skinning venison and using their bones as enchanted material for their enchanted swords and gift shop trinkets. Darth’s friend Kevin also lived in a bog, but was the son of the bog’s druid guardian. Kevin had little interest in pursuing the family business, but instead planned on becoming an adventurer in faraway lands where “there’s mad Jap pussy.”

Finally the day came when the two boys had to set out on their quest to become men. Kevin was equipped with his father’s bone sword that never stopped playing Pantera. His father had no use for it, seeing as he was on disability for being extremely obese, and was forced to ride around on one of those supermarket jazzy power chairs, the seat of which smelled like peat moss and ass moss.

Kevin wandered over to Darth’s house and knocked on his shitty door.

Darth answered. “Hey, I can’t go become a man with you and fight evil because I don’t have a cool weapon.”

“Just use your stepdad’s magical stave of orc taint,” Kevin replied.

“I’m not asking my Mom’s husband to help me on our journey,” said Darth.

“You mean your stepdad?” asked Kevin.

“He’s not my fucking stepdad, he’s my mother’s husband,” Darth said angrily.

“Alright, if you say so, but that’s, like, literally what that means,” said Kevin.

“You’re a fucking communist,” said Darth.

To this day, the issue has not been resolved.

Soon the two were off on their adventure – Kevin with his totally badass boner sword, and Darth with his totally stank-ass magic stave that smelled like an army of crusty orc taints. After several tens of minutes of walking, they reached their first trial.

In a clearing, they came across a poisoned oak, tainted by the jizzy spirits of the wood for over, like, a million millennia. Under this oak lay a maiden of the woods; she was tall, well versed in the dark arts, and had the sweetest ass. The heroes approached, knowing that they would be in peril if they awoke her, but they had to get a glimpse of her giant, bedonkalicious back-meat.

As they approached, a dark chill crept over their skin, followed by a thundering roar. She had awoken.

“You boys looking to pass through my murky wood?” she asked.

“Yes, fair slut maiden, we wish to pass,” Darth replied.

“You can’t go, because of reasons,” said the slut maiden.

Finally, having enough of the petty banter, Kevin unsheathed his bone sword, and the sickest 45-minute long metal solo played.

“Oh fuck,” the slut maiden exclaimed. “Sick metal music is my only weakness,” and then she twerked against the tree for 20 minutes.

The boys passed through the murky wood with ease, and passed their first trial.

After they were done grab-assin,’ the heroes were getting close to their final trial. The only thing standing in their way was a huge boulder field filled with orcs.

“How are we going to traverse this field of shitty-ass orcs?” Darth said defeatedly.

“Your staff!” Kevin said, whatever the opposite of defeatedly is.

Darth held his staff upon high. The stench of a million shitty-ass orc taints filled the boulder field. Just then, orcs started to get huge boners. Being orcs, some of them had, like, double boners. The stench of orc taint being an aphrodisiac, all the orcs started just boning – like, crazy boning.

Again, the two adventurers passed easily by the field of sweaty, bone-hungry orcs. The entrance to the Vulva Cave lay ahead, and so too with it, the end of their journey.

Upon entering the cave, there was an overpowering musty smell; the smell of a thousand wine cellars mixed with boob sweat. The two heroes walked quietly and softly on the broken rocks of the cave floor. Soon they came to a passage where, at the end, they could see a blinding light. Carefully, they navigated through the passage; their hearts were racing with excitement at the possibility of what could lay ahead, and at what treasures could await them.

Finally, they saw the end.

They saw what was awaiting them, what they had quested so arduously for: at the end of the tunnel, Darth’s mom was riding Kevin’s dad’s druid wiener, on top of his jazzy-powered chair of the wolf.

On that day, they became men.

On that day, they became brothers.

And then that one cool Atreyu song played.

Throm's Cave Journey Edit

The cave was dark and moist, just like most caves in Orcspire. They always seem like two sexy-ass ogres just got done having nasty, stanky-ass sex in it (cuz they do). Caves are where ogres have sex, so it smells bad. Dark, moist, ogre sex dungeon: that’s what caves are like here, and it sucks.


Throm with his two mighty axes

Throm was a barbarian not too different from the others. Broad shoulders, lack of neck, long metal-head hair, and wearing just a loincloth that had been washed never. He carried two double-edged axes on his back, and from time to time would write the word ‘Unfuckwittable’ across his chest.

Throm was just about fed up with this cave; he had been hired by a wizard in the nearby town to find The Looking Glass of Forbidden Sight. He usually wouldn’t take up quests that didn’t involve him beheading, like, thirty guys, then throwing those heads at thirty other guys, but he needed the gold to buy this sick sword he saw in town that had skulls drawn on it and shit.

He had spent the last two hours searching for the looking glass with no luck, and at one point it got super humid and he took a deep breath, and definitely tasted ogre taint.

“GODDAMN ASS-SHIT!” yelled Throm in frustration, and he punched the wall of the cave. Now, Throm was strong, but he didn’t expect the wall to explode, which it did.

When the dust settled, Throm realized he had uncovered a hidden room in the cave.

“Bonus!” said Throm.

He was about to step into the room when he noticed someone moving, or dancing around inside.


“Meeeeeee!” yelled a little gnome, as he rolled out of the darkness and right up to Throm. Now, Throm had little patience for gnomes, as they were often naked and aroused. This gnome did not seem to be any different.

“I’m Fleetwood Mac!” replied the gnome, stark nude. He then spun around and said, “And I want y’all to have a maaaaaaagical Christmas.”

Throm took a moment to try and conceive what Christmas was, but quickly gave up.

“Out of the way gnome, I’ve got stuff to do and you’re annoying and stupid and also dumb.”

“Well well well, don’t y’all know I might have something to do with what you’re looking for?” said Fleetwood as he did something similar to a dog dying.

“I SAID SHUT UP!” yelled Throm.

“Looking for a certain looking glass, hmm?” Fleetwood countered.

Just as Throm was about to piss on the little guy, he remembered: I am looking for a looking glass.

“Where is it?” said Throm as he put his dick back in his loincloth (which was fortunate for Fleetwood, as Throm had just ejaculated, and you know that first piss after it is like a goddamn sprinkler).

“Oh, don’t y’know it’s right here!” said Fleetwood, reaching behind Throm’s ear and revealing The Looking Glass of Forbidden Sight.

“Hot damn, there it is!” said Throm, and he snatched it from Fleetwood.

“Hey, I was going to make you play games with me to get that,” said Fleetwood.

“Shut up loser butthole,” said Throm, as he exited the cave.

Fleetwood followed.

“Well don’t you want to see what’s so forbidden about The Looking Glass?”

Just then, Throm remembered: Oh yeah, I did want to find out what was so forbidden about this looking glass. But he didn’t want Fleetwood to, like, think he reminded him, so he yelled “FUCKING FINE, I’LL USE YOUR SHIT!”

Standing at the entrance of the cave, Throm held the looking glass up to his eye.

Hmm, doesn’t seem to do anything, he thought as he scanned the forest.

Just then, he saw a deer with the longest, slimiest, super-detailed dick drawn onto the deer.


“Tee hee hee!” laughed Fleetwood as he rolled back and forth butt-ass nude over some jagged rocks.

Throm then saw a bear who had a drawn-on dick as big as the goddamn forest.

“OHHH FUUUUUCK!” yelled Throm.

Throm had seen enough. “This is black magic!” He then took out one of his axes and chopped Fleetwood in half.

“Remember me for my… wonderful bod,” breathed Fleetwood as he died (and yeah, as a matter of fact, that bod was killer). Throm gave him props and ran back to town to find the wizard who hired him.

Throm kicked the door off the wizard’s house.

“Oh boy, pizza’s here!” said the wizard, who was seriously, like, 100 years old, and thought he had ordered pizza, which he didn’t, and pizza didn’t even exist then, let alone delivery pizza, so what was he even talking about, but then you remember: oh, right, wizard.


Just as Throm raised his axe to slice the wizard in half, the wizard yelled, “Wait, no! I don’t want to look at those dicks; I wish to destroy it. That’s why I hired you to find it for me.”

Throm felt a little bad. He was just about to ruin this old guy.

The wizard took the looking glass and stepped on it. As the glass cracked, thousands of drawn-on dicks floated out the door, and to who knows where.

Maybe they floated to your house?

“Well that’s that,” said the wizard. “Here’s your payment, barbarian.”

He handed Throm a sack with a dollar sign drawn on it, but was really filled with lewd pics of the wizard.

Throm liked it.