The Reluctant Adventures of Pigglebottom Broadsword

Chapter Twenty-Three

After some time standing frozen in fear, a crowd began to form again around Pigglebottom. However, this group had one very specific destination in mind, and was akin to an army of salmon swimming upstream to their collective destination. As the crowd thickened quickly, Pigglebottom began being pushed forward and was soon walking with the crowd for fear of being trampled to death if he attempted to break free from the current. After twenty minutes or so of blindly walking towards an unknown location, countless individuals bumping into him and having some sort of congealed red liquid continuously spilt over him, the crowd suddenly halted and Pigglebottom's surroundings only now came into view, high in the sky he could now see, bigger than ever, the gigantic statues whose feet stood at the grounds of the Barbarianous Coliseum. Pigglebottom was an individual who abhorred violence, mostly due to fearing the comeuppance that would undoubtedly fall upon him if he was to engage in such an act. Therefore, the Coliseum was the last place he was willing to travel to, and yet, there he was. After some more jostling, Pigglebottom found his rump firmly placed on a seat inside the spectator's area of the Coliseum, how he had got there and without paying were both questions that he currently had no suitable answers for. Just as he was about to shuffle his way past the droves of spectators and make his way towards the exit, the crowd erupted and every individual in the entire coliseum stood up to roar, bellow and for reasons unbeknownst to Pigglebottom, slap the person next to them twice on each cheek. Unfortunately for Pigglebottom, the individual next to him was the largest in the entire coliseum, he was exactly 6 and half times bigger than Pigglebottom, and 8 or 9 times as wide. His slaps were so thunderous that poor old Pigglebottom's brain rattled inside his skull like a peanut in the wind. Slithering into his seat as his ears rang like Sunday church bells, images of his mother smoking cigarettes with the priest round the back of the church flooded back to him. The slap was so deafening that Pigglebottom completely failed to realize the show had begun, and just as soon as the first match started, it had ended with both men simultaneously impaling each other with a bronze scarsfard (also known as the 'pointypokey' to layman). As the crowd once again burst into applause, the speaker began delivering the details of the next match.

"What a bloodbath eh? He won't be pointypoking anyone anytime soon!" the invisible voice bellowed through the speakers, the audience enraptured with the words quickly responded in unison with "Keep your pointypoking out of me!" they chanted as a wave of laughter darted across the crowd.

"That's right, that's right" bellowed the voice once more whilst it joined the audience in their laughter. "Now that's out of the way, and the bodies have almost been wiped up, the theme of the next round will be decided by a lucky member of our audience" the crowd cheered and stomped their feet in unison, the force of which rattled Pigglebottom to his bones and resulted in him hopping to his feet. A drum roll sounded whilst lights flickered all around the Coliseum until stopping, slap bang on Pigglebottom, wouldn't you know.

"He 'ath been choseneth!" the voice bellowed again, "Now he must chooseningeth thisth choice!" the voices' poor command of using the classic form of language left a lot to be desired, however, the crowd were loving every second of it.

"Chooseth, chooseth, chooseth" the crowd began to chant, growing louder and louder until the voice continued "A..." the crowd hushed as the voice spoke with ferocity "or... B". Not a sound could be heard as the crowd collectively held their breaths, apart from a small 4 pronged flapping sound that escaped in the form of a gaseous cloud from little Brinkle from Bronklesville's buttcheeks. Pigglebottom was, as usual, confused by the turn of events. He considered asking which one was which, however, he instead chose to presume, knowing how his luck was, that both options were something vile and atrocious therefore it didn't really matter which one he chose as either way he was being forced to commit a horrible act, as usual. As such, Pigglebottom shouted A, before slipping down in his seat and slowly climbing underneath the chairs until arriving at the aisle and running to the exit. It was no doubt a good thing that Pigglebottom decided not to watch the fruits of his decision of A over B, however, if he'd stayed then he would have discovered that option B was the 'tickle round', a fun and light-hearted round where the first gladiator to give up loses. This round had been a staple of Barbarianous' coliseums for centuries and was said to have originated as a result of a former King's severe perversion regarding the feeling of being tickled. Apparently he was tickled by dozens of people at a time, and the cries of "there's a bit on my lower back that's not being stimulated!" could apparently regularly be heard echoing throughout the halls of his castle, generally on a Tuesday afternoon after the King's milk bath, but, I digress.

Option A, however, which was Pigglebottom's choice, was the 'free for all round', which at that current time meant the inclusion in the fight of a 4 armed snake man (who was considerably ripped) and a colossus whose stature was once described as 'bus-like'. This match, much like the previous, was a short affair which involved the colossus gouging one opponent's eye to the point that it was looking out of the back of their head. The other human opponent suffered a slightly more prolonged fate which involved having each arm and leg pulled off and then fed back to them at the hands of the snake man. After both had finished their respective atrocities, they turned to the King, waved, and then returned to their cells.