There's something about Gingy

Chapter 1

Tw: mentions of starvation, pain and innuendos

                                                ~

This story begins on a dark and stormy night, piercing screams and moans like silk fill the tower in his castle. The mighty, dark and handsome Lord Farquad. His stature towers over all who fall into his path, though his height left yet to be desired. That night Gingy was at the town tavern, hunched over the bar a pint of ale in his dainty hand. A rugged look hung about his face, ginger stubble and long locks of pumpkin coloured hair adjourned his shoulders.

"Another round, please Doris" he slurred. As she poured out the the pint he whipped his hair up into a messy bun, to keep it from getting soaked in the twelfth  pint of beer he was about to chug. Suddenly, two palace guards stormed into the place, tracking mud all over the clean doorway from their boots. There were six inch deep puddles outside. Gingy would surely get drenched. Mabel, Doris' sister, went to get a bucket and a mop to clean up that foul mud.

"Gingy Bredman, you are hereby under arrest for federal tax evasion. You don't have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, it will be used against you in a court of law. You don't have the right to a lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, on will not be appointed for you at all"

They ripped Gingy from his bar stool and dragged him to their carriage. After what seemed like hours upon hours of journeying, although it was only ten minutes as he was very drunk, they arrived at the formidable iron gates. A monogrammed 'F' was emblazoned on them. A doorway to a world of hellish imagination.

In an instant Gingy knew exactly where they were taking him; Farquad's dungeon. Shackled and shameless he traipsed along the stone cold corridor, wondering what mechanisms of torture awaited him. The guards, whom he had come to know as Stingy and Ziggy, left him in a windowless room with barely any light at all.

Days went by and the only interaction he had was with the cat in the boots that came to give him his food everyday. He was allowed one meal a day, a disgusting gruel made from the bones of his predecessors, or so he was told. That cat in the hat never told him much, only stories if the heinous war crimes he committed for Farquad, like the tale of the ogre and his abandoned swamp. He never used names but Gingy could guess a few.

One day, from outside his cell, he heard the metallic scraping of the door at the end of that lowly and lifeless corridor. The door swung open and out of the darkness came an enormous shadow which began to emerge. It was Farquad.

"You know I thought you'd be taller?" Laughed Gingy.
"Oh you laugh now, but you won't be when I'm through with you" Farquad replied ominously.
"What are you gonna do, kick me in the shin?"
"Much worse than that darling..." Farquad cooed.

He dipped his hand into the basket of iron rods next to him.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you're going to enjoy this, although I know I certainly will" He produced a poker with the phrase 'Farquad's Bitch' welded onto it. He held it over the fire that had been stoking for some time now.
"Hey wait, hang on a minute, what's that for?!" Gingy stressed irratably.
"You" And with that Farquad branded Gingy's pec, it would surely scar. He would forever be Farquad's property.

Gingy's screams rang throughout the hallowed halls of that dismal dungeon, creating a cacophony of sound.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck'" pain laced his voice like poison to wolfsbane. Deadly sweet.

~

Kudos to OumaKingOfRats  for co-writing this with me! Send lot's of thanks their way for coming up with this original idea!