A Court of Smut and Wingspan

Chapter 1: Kiefer is a baddie

              Kiefer wasn't always a good artist. In fact, he only taught himself to draw when his father's knee was attacked by a gang of pirates, forcing Kiefer to fend for himself, his father, and his two sisters Bobghyatta and Gretuira. Bobghyatta was a bitch. Bobghyatta refused to go out into the woods and sell art in exchange for a deer to eat for supper. Bobghyatta was not a good artist. Bobghyatta was a stupid whore. Gretuira was too pretty to go into the woods and sell art in exchange for a deer to eat for supper. And of course, father Kiefer's knee was attacked by those pirates on that fateful day, which left poor Kiefer as the only contestant to enter the woods and sell art in exchange for a deer to eat for supper.

            So, that's where he was now—in the woods trying and failing to sell his art. The woods were very cold. Kiefer might catch a cold. Kiefer was also illiterate. This is why Kiefer is selling art. This is very important. Illiteracy can kill you...

            As he non-suspiciously perched atop a frozen tree branch, searching for buyers that might be lurking in the forest, his hands grew numb with cold. This was because he had no gloves. His family couldn't afford gloves—not after that fateful day his father's knee was attacked by a gang of pirates. Once upon a time, in Kiefer's childhood, he woke up one morning to screaming and went downstairs to witness horrible things. A gang of pirates were attacking his father's knee! His father's knee is now attacked, so he can't do anything. He carves wood. He likes wood.

          That must be where Kiefer got it from. Kiefer was not a straight man. He was kind of into this guy named Mr. Juicer, who lived in the neighboring village. Mr. Juicer and Kiefer smashed. They smashed. They totally smashed. They didn't smash hard enough that a mountain fell over—but it was pretty close. They played checkers super hotly. Except only Kiefer and Mr. Juicer thought it was hot because they were the ones "playing checkers" after all. That is what Kiefer would one day do when he was happily wed, and not in financial debt. He would settle down and get married and play checkers on his wedding night. But that would also never happen. Kiefer was not like other girls. Kiefer was a baddie. Kiefer had kiefing to do out in the woods. He was an artist. He was the artist of the week. Kiefer made such good art that other artists laughed at him. Kiefer specialized in stick figures. It is good.

          That's what he was selling this evening in the cold bushes. He was trying to sell his very artistically artistic stick figure paintings. But no one was here. If only a very large chicken-wolf thing would appear and buy his artwork...Kiefer sighed. That wouldn't happen. If a large chicken wolf thing large enough to want this art was in these woods, it would have to be a faerie who slipped through the wall! Kievsville was the last human village standing after the great war against faeries 500 years ago. There was a big thick wall that separates Faerieland from Kievsville. This wall was big. The wall was so big that the evil guy on the island couldn't even get through it yet. But a random faerie disguised as a very large chicken wolf thing might make it through if Kiefer advertised his art enough.

          So, Kiefer started yodeling. He yodeled so loud that a very large chicken wolf thing did indeed approach the tree he was still perched in like a zebra's left toe getting evaporated into oblivion. Kiefer's ripped boots landed on the ground with a thud. He stared at the chicken.

         The chicken spoke. "That art is freaking fugly bro."

         Kiefer whipped out a glock and shot the chicken. Problem solved. Now he could steal the chicken's money and pretend he sold some art. He hadn't realized chickens could talk. The chicken could have been a faerie, he pondered dramatically—though it also could not have. But, it was rather large, so maybe who knows?