The Goddess of Love, Lust and Icky Fluids

Thaddius Decimus, son of Decimus the Great and Mighty God Slayer, shook his head, slowly, as for the nine hundred and thirty second time in his twenty-seven years of existence upon the Gods' green Earth a young woman offered to insert two fingers into his anus and gorge herself upon his engorged, swollen man-stick, all because his dad slew a God.

Whilst Thaddius appreciated the fame and fortune the legend of his father had thrust upon him, only he knew the truth.

His father had never, not even once, slain a God, though he had beaten Venus in a game of Twister.

After that, he had fucked her.

Apparently she had been a bit of a goer back in the day, all red haired and red bushed with curves so voluptuous mere mortal men were incapacitated by knee-quivering climax after knee-quivering climax whilstever they were in her presence. Now though she was a haggard old beast who probably could not even give a squirrel a hard-on.

No, the years had most definitely not been kind to Venus, and the rest of the Gods ensured everyone knew it, too. Gods were bastards like that.

Every Thursday lunchtime they paraded her around a marketplace, always a different one so they could be absolutely certain as many people as was humanly - or Godly, in this case - possible, laid their two eyes upon the former Goddess of Love, Lust and Icky Fluids.

Of all the Gods and Goddesses though, none was more rat a bastard than she who took Venus' place; Jane...

To look at her you really would not have thought there was anything special about Jane at all. She was, as is quite often - and almost always erroneously - assumed, rather plain. She was pretty enough in a forgettable kind of way with a modest B-Cup and a booty that whilst you probably would enjoy yourself with a bit of saliva and a few hard thrusts, perhaps a little grunting if you are that way inclined, you definitely would not imagine for one single second that you were missing out on anything, if you decided not to bother.

Taking all of that into consideration, how Jane came to be Venus' replacement as the Goddess of Love, Lust and Icky Fluids, was quite the mystery to most, but I am afraid to say that is a story for another time.

The girl, having removed her fingers from Thaddius' anus, got to her feet and swallowed down a mouthful of testicular emissions before rising from her knees that she might plant a kiss upon the man's cheek. Then she disappeared into the crowded market full of shoppers and those selling their wares alike.

Thaddius Decimus scanned the crowd. He was not looking for anyone or anything in particular but it was whilst not looking for anyone or anything in particular that his eyes came to rest upon a group of Gods led by Jane, Goddess of Love, Lust and Icky Fluids and in her hand she gripped a chain that was wrapped tightly around the neck of she who held the position before her.

He shook his head, slowly.

Thaddius Decimus really did not understand the Gods, not even a little. For all-powerful beings they were so petty, so small-minded, so...

Choppers Over Vesuvius

His thoughts were interrupted by a very strange and unfamiliar noise. Had he ever heard the rotor blades of a helicopter rapidly rotating, as they were wont to do, then he would most definitely have said that strange and unfamiliar noise sounded very much like a helicopter rapidly approaching the marketplace at low altitude.

But Thaddius Decimus had never seen nor heard a helicopter, not least for the fact that in his world, such conveyances were well over two thousand years away from being built.

He glanced towards the sky just in time to see the helicopter - but of course, he had no idea that was what it was! - come into view and begin its slow descent towards the ground.

People in the marketplace scattered, most dropping whatever they carried as they sought cover, making futile attempts to hold their clothing in place that they might maintain at least some level of dignity.

Thaddius Decimus shielded his eyes though he did not move. He was not a man who scared particularly easily but more to the point, he really was rather intrigued as to what in the blue hell was going on.

He watched as the helicopter touched down and the blades atop it slowed until eventually they stopped, and from within the airborne conveyance two men, both attired very strangely and entirely in black, the thin piece of material that appeared to hang from their respective necks aside, and hurried rather quickly towards him.

"Thaddius Decimus?" one of the near-identical men asked. "Son of Decimus the Great and Mighty God Slayer?"

"Yes, that's me," he replied. The words that came from his mouth took him back a little, not least for the fact he was no longer speaking his native tongue.

"You need to come with us."

"I do?" Thaddius asked. "Why, and where are we going?"

"Because we say so," the second man replied. "And it doesn't matter where we're going."

Thaddius was unarmed. Whilst it was true he had no issue with combat when such a thing was required - and he did, indeed, suspect that such a thing might be required at some point in his very immediate future - he was by no means a natural-born fighter, but as the two men simultaneously drew something that looked ominously weapon-like from somewhere about their respective personages, he wished he had been blessed with the foresight to pick up a dagger before leaving the house that morning.

He glanced around in the hope that someone, anyone, might be able to proffer something by way of assistance, but discounting the two near-identical men and himself the marketplace was somewhat reminiscent of a ghost town. Even the Gods, who were normally more than happy to make their presence felt, had disappeared...

"Fine..." said Thaddius. The way he saw it he had little choice. It was either do as the men said, or find out exactly what those ominously weapon-like items could do and he most certainly did not like the sound of the latter of those two options.

One of the two men set off towards the helicopter whilst the other gestured that Thaddius should follow before stepping into line himself. Then, before he really knew what was happening, the helicopter was back up in the air, rising high above Pompeii as Mount Vesuvius smoked merrily away in the near-distance.

"Trust us, kid... You don't wanna' hang around here too long, anyway."

Questions

When one travels great distances across Time and Space, more often than not one generally loses all track of the former and has little sense of the latter, and Thaddius Decimus was slap-bang in the midst of discovering all of the above for himself.

He found himself contemplating such questions as, 'If John boards a train at Fenchurch Street Station at 0924 and travels at an average speed of 67 mph, how the fuck does it only take him thirty-nine seconds to arrive in 2190?' and, 'If Sarah vomits a few hundred years before the alleged birth of Christ, for how long will that fucking horrible taste linger?'

They were, of course, questions to which he could never hope to find an answer, nor did he really understand them because after all, he had no idea whereabouts Fenchurch Street Station was, nor did he actually know what kind of station Fenchurch Street Station might be. And for that matter, who the fuck was this Christ fellow?

"So you might be wondering what you're doing in 2190?" one of the men said, snapping Thaddius out of his self-questioning state of mind.

"I am," he replied, nodding earnestly. "And I hope you're going to tell me."

"'Course," said the other man. "But you've got to get ready first."

"Ready for what?" Thaddius asked, but of course he was given no answer. Instead, he was led from the helicopter - which had touched down and entered a dormant state whilst Thaddius Decimus had been contemplating vomit and train travel - and into a room.

"Put this on," said the first of the near-identical men. "And when you're dressed, come out of the room and turn right. Just keep on walking, you'll know when to stop."

Man-Flu

Moments later, Thaddius Decimus exited the room and turned right. He wanted to turn left. He wanted, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life, to turn left. It was impossible though, mostly due to the fact a wall blocked his path, which meant turning left was most definitely not going to happen.

As he walked slowly along the corridor, making his way slowly in the only possible direction, he contemplated his attire. The undergarments were incredibly uncomfortable and pushed his testicles to the left, giving him quite the side-bulge that the tight-fitting trousers were apparently only too happy to show off. The footwear was far too heavy, big and bulky for his liking, and he suspected that should the time come that he needed to run the boots would prove to be extremely cumbersome, indeed! And then there was the jerkin, made of a fabric that was unfamiliar to him. It was incredibly warm and felt reasonably thick, but he highly doubted its ability to stop an arrow or deflect a sword.

Thaddius reached a point in the corridor where it altered from its flat state to one of a rather steep incline and he was almost halfway towards the brilliantly bright light he could see at the slope's end, when he felt the incredibly odd sensation that he was being watched.

He turned around quickly, grimacing thanks to his twinging nuts as he did so, but found no one there, and so he shrugged and continued forwards.

Still though, for the entire duration of his slow and testicle-tickling walk up the incline, he had the unnerving feeling that someone, or something, was looking directly over his left shoulder.

It was still there, the feeling, when he reached the pinnacle of the incline and stepped out into what turned out to be a day hotter and more glorious than he had ever experienced. The Sun was high in the sky, beaming down upon the world with the same loving ferocity as a flame reaching towards a roasting hog and the few clouds visible showed no intention of shielding the ground below from the Sol star's embrace.

There were, however, a couple of most definitely 'off,' things, about the day into which Thaddius had just walked.

The first, and probably the lesser of those two things, was the fact he appeared to be within some kind of arena, a coliseum, around which more people than he had ever seen in a single place were seated, standing, or in any conceivable position related to the aforementioned states.

The second of those two things was the fact that he was not alone. There were several other people standing around, who appeared to have come out of tunnels and corridors similar to the one behind him.

Most appeared to be rather nervous. There were a couple of them, however, who did not look as though they thought anything was off about their situation at all, and one of those two people approached Thaddius whilst simultaneously kicking a spherical object from one foot to the other without letting said object get so much as a sniff of the ground.

Every now and then, the man kicking the ball would do so much harder, sending it far above his own head where it appeared to burst into flames. He would watch the fireball intently and as it dropped, deftly catch it in the nape of his neck whereupon the flames seemed to extinguish themselves before he flicked it over his head and went back to kicking it from one foot to the other.

"Your first Punker Games, eh?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh don't worry, kid," the man replied, smiling as still he played the object between his feet. "The name's Stanley Matthews. I've lost count of how many of these things I've played and won."

"Thaddius Decimus..." Thaddius Decimus replied, nodding warily, unable to take his eyes from the sphere. "What did you say this is? Punker Games?"

"Aye that's right, the Punker Games. Did you ever play Last Man Standing as a kid?" he said, apparently awaiting Thaddius' response but when the man proffered no such thing, Stanley Matthews continued. "Anyways it's a bit like that, only it actually is Last Man Standing... See all these folk here? Well apart from her with the tits and the armour that looks like a supernova fucked an Ann Summers store in the arse, anyways... Yeah it's their first time, too. We all fight to the death, and whoever wins fights a whole bunch of other folk to the death next year."

"OK, so... how can there be two of you who've won? I mean surely..."

"I missed last year on account of a particularly nasty bout of Man Flu, an' SpacePunk bitch there won in my stead."

"Man Flu?"

"Oh yeah," Stanley Matthews replied, earnestly, as he booted the sphere high into the sky, whereupon it burst into flames. "It's real, kid, trust me, and prob'ly more painful and uncomfortable than pregnancy. A word of advice though, never say that last bit to a lassie."

"I, erm..."

"Anyways... The bell's gonna' ring in about thirty seconds, at which point it's every man for himself so you'd best mosey on over to that table and grab yourself a weapon." He paused, dipped his head and caught the no-longer-flaming object at the back of his neck. "I like you, kid... Ain't gonna' take any pleasure in killing you but kill you I will... I intend to be doing this for a long damn time."

Thaddius watched as Stanley Matthews departed and then, whilst simultaneously wondering what 'SpacePunk Bitch,' actually meant, he headed towards the table Stanley had pointed out to him.

Upon reaching it he discovered it was littered with a vast array of melee weaponry. There were spaces where clearly, Thaddius assumed, one of his fellow contestants, if that was even the right word, had taken a fancy to whatever had been there.

He glanced around at the crowd. They did not appear to be particularly interested in what was going on within the arena, though Thaddius suspected that might change when things got underway.

He noticed, oddly, several large orange W's, all with incredibly shapely legs and curves in places one did not expect a W to have curves. They appeared to be distributing snacks. Or drugs. They could definitely have been drugs.

Finally, seconds before the bell rang, Thaddius settled upon a pair of weapons; a broadsword and a mace.

And then the bell rang.

The Fall and Rise of SpacePunk Bitch

Thaddius spun around just in time to see Stanley Matthews kick his flaming sphere at SpacePunk Bitch, directly at her head, in fact. It seemed she did not see it coming for contact was made and her head exploded in a blood, pulpy, brainy mess...

Because she was dead, her head had just exploded after all, her body dropped to the ground and Thaddius could not help but notice the incredibly satisfied expression that spread across Stanley Matthews' face.

That expression did not last for too long, however, entirely due to the fact that the second her body hit the ground, SpacePunk Bitch was up on her feet and, against all rhyme and reason a new, perfectly formed and proportionately sized head sprouted from her neck.

Stanley Matthews was totally helpless as SpacePunk Bitch produced, from somewhere about her person, a BFG - that's Big Fucking Gun... even Thaddius knew that - levelled it at the SportPunk representative, and fired.

When the smoke cleared, all that remained was the occasionally flaming spherical object rolling over the charred ground though within seconds, it came to rest against what Thaddius could only assume was a remnant of Stanley Matthews.

"Take the ball, kid."

Thaddius glanced around, shocked, and realised it was SpacePunk Bitch who had spoken to him. Her voice was surprisingly soft and gentle, especially for one who had just grown a new head.

"Take the ball, you'll have more of a chance of surviving with a proper weapon than the bullshit you've got there so give yourself a bit of an edge and if it comes down to you and me, I'll kill you quick."

"Erm... thank you," Thaddius replied, quietly. "I think..."

Oh Em Gee

As he sprinted down the hill, jumping hedges and dodging trees as the werewolf bounded after him, Thaddius once again felt the unnerving sensation that someone was looking directly over his shoulder.

The ball appeared to have little effect upon the creature chasing him, in fact Thaddius suspected the werewolf might actually be chasing the ball, rather than the man himself.

You need to use something silver to kill a werewolf.

"Ex... Excuse me?" he panted in reply.

I said, you need to use something silver to kill a werewolf. Shoulda' kept the broadsword. It's got a silver hilt. Woulda' come in handy about now.

"Well it would've been nice to know that," Thaddius Decimus replied, and it was at that point he realised the person he was talking to was not a person at all. No, it was actually the voice belonging to the sensation that someone was looking over his shoulder.

He huffed and puffed and at the very same moment the werewolf chasing him reached out with its clawed paw Thaddius dropped flat to the ground.

Such was its momentum the werewolf could do nothing but carry on at a quite incredible pace as Thaddis got quickly to his feet.

He smiled and kicked the ball high into the air. Whilst it was there he removed his boots and as the flaming sphere came back down towards him, he leapt to meet it and delivered the mother of all volleys.

Faster than a speeding bullet the ball overtook the still-running werewolf, though it probably did singe a little fur on its way, and went straight through the trunk of a particularly thick tree some twenty feet further on.

"Timber, motherfucker," he said, watching the tree fall and crush the werewolf whilst simultaneously wondering whereabouts, exactly, he was picking up his new vocabulary.

Whilst awaiting the ball's return he took a seat upon the ground, more to catch his breath than for any other reason, but he did feel that it was about time he had a conversation.

"So," he said, pausing. How exactly did one go about engaging an incorporeal entity in conversation. In the end, he opted for, "How's it going?"

You don't know who I am, do you?

"Clearly not," he replied. "I mean, the chances are that if I did I'd be calling you by name."

Well... You remember your dad telling you about the time he beat Venus in a game of Twister, and then fucked her?

"I do. That's not the kind of thing you forget and oh em gee... You're Venus?"

I'm also your mother.

"I was getting to that part... But wait; how can you be Venus? I saw you being paraded around the marketplace only yesterday... Well, a few thousand years ago but temporally speaking, I suppose, it was yesterday."

That wasn't me. That poor woman is someone Jane pretends is me in an effort to prove she has power, which she does; she's the Goddess of Love, Lust and Icky Fluids.

She also killed me, but it's all right I don't hold a grudge.

"So, you're..."

That's right. Gods and Goddesses never truly die. We're kinda' always around.

"So, I'm..."

That's right, too. As the lovechild of Man and Goddess, you're a very special boy indeed, and not just because you're my son.

"So you're saying I'm, like, motherfucking Hercules and shit?"

Thaddius once again wondered from where he was plucking his new vocabulary. He was not complaining though. He rather liked it.

Fuck fuck, shit fuck, he thought, because he could.

Now, my son. Go kick SpacePunk Bitch's whore arse!

Kicking SpacePunk Bitch's Whore Arse

Kicking SpacePunk Bitch's whore arse was proving far more difficult a task than Thaddius Decimus had expected, not least for the fact that whenever he got rid of one of her limbs it grew back all but instantly, and he found that rather frustrating to say the least.

"You know we're the only two left, kid?" she said, after her head had grown back for the ninth time.

"You know I'm half-god, right?" he retorted, feeling more and more confident with every passing second, because he had just found out he was the son of a motherfucking Goddess.

"You know what I said about killing you quick if it came down to you and me?" As she spoke she pulled off a couple of shots from the BFG, but Thaddius easily deflected those shots with a half-volley and a well-timed heel flick.

"You know I didn't believe you anyway, eh?"

"You know, is it just me or does this feel like we're playing a game of questions only?"

"Does it?"

"Doesn't it?"

"It's getting a little tired though, don't you think?"

"Not losing the will to carry on, are you?"

"Do I look like I'm losing the will to carry on?"

"What does a half-god look like when he's losing the will to carry on?"

"Have you ever fellated an armadillo?"

"Your mum's an armadillo... shit!"

"Nope. My mum's a fucking goddess, bitch."

"That's SpacePunk Bitch to you, fucker!"

And with that, SpacePunk Bitch cranked the Big Fucking Gun up to eleven and fired a single shot, the recoil of which would have sent a DeLorean back to 1885, but Thaddius saw it coming and with a perfectly timed kick, he sent the flaming ball out to meet that shot.

As powerful as SpacePunk Bitch's shot was, it was no match for Thaddius' sphere of fire and the latter sent the former straight back whence it came.

The Big Fucking Gun exploded, and SpacePunk Bitch exploded with it.

"Try growing that back, SpacePunk Bitch!"

And with that, the crowd went positively wild.

GodPunk

As he emerged from the tunnel and into the brilliantly bright, harsh light of day, the crowd roared and Thaddius smiled.

He raised an arm and waved, much to the delight of those folk gathered to watch him claim a twenty-sixth Punker Games title. Some women fainted. Some men fainted, too. He really was rather popular.

Upon the table before him lay a vast array of weaponry. Each and every item was in its proper place for the table had not been touched. It was there for him to survey and to make the first selection.

Directly in the centre was the football, the very same football Thaddius had lifted from Stanley Matthews' remains all of those years ago, back when he had claimed his maiden title.

That first year was the first year he had used that as a weapon. It was the first year he had used anything as a weapon, in Punker Games terms. It was also the final year he had used a weapon in the Games for Thaddius Decimus, son of Decimus the Mighty God Slayer did not require such a thing.

He was badass, and he was GodPunk.