A couple of things: one, I don't know if the rules allow this chapter's enemy to do all of this stuff. But I haven't found anything that says it can't, so full steam ahead.

And two, I'm aware that not everybody will get these jokes, and coming from a pun-slinger, that's saying something. But I just had to do it (the title of OotS strip #136 says it all), and I threw in a little action to round out the flavor.

Share and enjoy.

As the Azurite landing party marched along the beach, Daigo examined the map from multiple directions, including upside-down. "I'm sorry, Lord Hinjo, but I really can't make heads or tails of this map. Are you sure the person who wrote this spoke Common?"

"Yes. But now that I think about it, I believe it was made when my uncle decided his scholars should try taking levels in new branches of Knowledge."

"Was that a problem, sir?"

"Knowledge (geography) got delegated to the engineering department for more than four months."

"Ah... Well, the best I can make it out, we seem to have landed in a chain of islands off the Eastern Continent."

A pause. "Well, that can't be right."

"I agree, Lord Hinjo - I've never heard of that place either."

Forming the front guard, Durkon continued his story for Lien. "...so tha high priest o' Odin says ta tha salesman, 'Fer tha last time, we dinnae need another icon o' our god, we've got all we need! And certainly not at that price!' Then tha salesman loses his rag, holds his price sheet right in tha high priest's face an says, 'I'm bendin' o'er backwards ta give ye a deal here - what are ye, blind?'"

Lien laughed, "Oh, he didn't..."

"Aye, so tha high priest yells, 'Out! Guards, pack tha wanker's horse fer 'im and get 'im outta me sight!'"

Elan smiled and added, "Yeah, get out of here - you and the horse your Odin's on!"

Durkon's chuckle died off, and Lien muttered, "Um, Elan, maybe that wasn't the best-"

"Ooh, I'm sorry... I guess that was a bit obvious. Next time, I'll go for something more lo-key, huh?"

This set Durkon's teeth grinding.

"Uh-oh, I think I hit a Thor spot-"

"Tha's it, lad!" But his hand froze it on his hammer as a scream echoed from further down the beach. The party of five ran until they saw it: a human woman fleeing from the water. Since she was a piece of eye candy and shrieking in terror, Elan wasn't surprised when she tripped and fell, despite the sand containing nothing to trip on.

And sure enough, the water billowed up as a creature lurched from the waves. It roared as it towered over the cowering woman, tentacles lashing everywhere, seeking, reaching, grasping-

"Hey, it's the squid thingy! How've you been?"

His grand entrance thoroughly ruined, the pink tentacle-faced humanoid stopped roaring and dropped his hands. The woman scampered to safety, but that was fine - she'd had the mental content of a cup of water ice. Likewise, he recognized the brain-matter scent of Durkon and Elan ("no thanks" and "not if I was half starved to death", respectively), then turned his senses to the other three.

The bald fighter, recently-named [peanut butter sandwich]... Not junk food, but not very filling either.

The bearded paladin, royal [pack of jerky and travel rations]... Solid, but maybe a bit too tough.

The female paladin, athletic [seasoned vegetable stir-fry]... Delicious AND nutritious! We've got a winner!

"Aaah!" Lien dodged back, barely escaping the lunging psion's tentacles. She whipped out her harpoon, Durkon stepped up wielding his hammer and shield, and Elan flourished his rapier, calling, "All right, squid-thingy, sorry to brain on your para-"

"Hold id righd dere!" Two men strode onto the scene, each wearing pants, dress shirts, jackets and ties that seemed to be made of the material used for swimming garments. The bald one of them said, "You can'd ged away from uth!"

Hinjo did a double take. "Jones and Rodriguez?"

Daigo blinked. "Who are these guys? And what sort of accent is that supposed to be?"

"Id's nod an accend - I had mah withdom deeth out dooday."

Rodriguez spoke up, "And we're honorary paladins of the spoooooky wizard-"

"Phil, id wathn'd funny the firth dime." Pointing at the psion, Jones continued, "We're lawyerth, and we're here doo bring thith fugidive back indo cuthody!"

Hinjo took a closer look at the scowling target. "I have not seen such a creature before."

Durkon spoke up, "It's called a-"

"Don'd thay id! Idth name ith thdill under drademark!"

"...Och, fine, but may I ask how tha creature got free o' ye?"

As Jones clutched his jaw in sudden pain, Rodriguez managed to answer, "It slipped into another realm, a parallel world where the most fantastical and unbelievable notions become reality! Where rules and limits are forgotten, where every fabric of being is subject to a thousand probing, pulling, transforming forces. Where cause and effect have no meaning, where alternate versions of life, of civilizations, of people are commonplace! The realm of-"

"Wall of Ectoplasm!" A bubble of the gauzy substance condensed around Hinjo, Daigo and the lawyers.

"Lord Hinjo!" "Why, ye rotten little..." "Don't worry, Hinjo - I'll avenge you!"

But as Elan sprang forward, the creature pointed again. "Quickened Psionic Grease!" A beam shot from his hand, striking Elan's rapier and coating it in a slippery film.

The weapon quickly slipped out from his grasp, and he tried to snatch for the handle, but he fumbled it again, and he had just enough presence of mind to stop short of grabbing it by the blade. As it fell to the sand, he muttered, "Aww... and Haley always says I have such nimble hands..."

Lien was more succinct. "Smite Evil!"

The creature screamed, but despite the harpoon-sized hole in his torso, he still managed to focus on Durkon as the short-legged man closed the gap. "Ectoplasmic Cocoon!" Vines of ectoplasm gathered around his hands before lancing out and ensnaring the dwarf. In a second, Durkon was paralyzed into the world's most aggressive lawn ornament.

"No! How dare-"

"Quickened Psionic Blast."

She cried out, dropped her harpoon, and slumped to the ground, dazed and reeling. The creature, panting heavily, nevertheless grinned as he stood over her. '"I've got you, my pretty, and your little-"

"Check out my own psy-kick powers!" The creature had never before appreciated how much a kick to the small of the back could hurt. The lesson came a bit late, now that he flew forward, tripped over his would-be target, and face-planted into the sand. Pushing himself to his knees only opened his glaring face up for Elan to add, "And you know what? Your fighting style matches you: it really s-thinks." The last kick propelled him jaw-first into the air before he dropped again.

The sphere finally burst like an egg under the combined attacks of Hinjo and Daigo. But neither could outrun the lawyers, and Jones had his foot on the monster's stomach and his briefcase on the monster's throat before they could say "broken restraining order." Rodriguez cheered, "Woo-hoo! We've seen better evasion on tax returns, you lousy illi-"

"DON'D thay id, Phil!"

The two warriors turned to breaking Durkon's restraints. By the spell's stats, this should have required more time, but when they saw Elan approach them wielding his rapier and an eager look in his eyes, they found a burst of motivation and finished the job quickly.

Jones pressed his case - against the creature's trachea, that is. "Then thad'th id. We're daking you in." The psion stirred a bit, and ectoplasm began curling around his hands again, but Jones increased the pressure ever so slightly. "Lithen, buddy, you dry anything, and we'll find loth of other chargeth doo hid you with."

Eyes burning, the unspeakable psion croaked, "Yeah..? Like... what?"

"For tharterth, illithid uth of a controlled thubtanth."

He then stopped and blinked, and Rodriguez muttered, "Uh-oh..."

Instantly, two more bathing-suited men with briefcases appeared on the scene. "Hold it!" said the first, with an aristocratic accent. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mr. Fox, and this is Mr. Chapman."

Rodriguez gasped, "Fox and Chapman of the Coast?"

"Shut up," said Fox, whacking Rodriguez upside the head.

"Waagh!"

Fox continued, "Mr. Jones, you are charged with pronouncing the name of a creature under trademark, and all of you are to be placed into custody under Section 21 of the Strange Fanfiction Act."

Even Hinjo blinked. "What?"

"You are charged with concocting a story - that is, a fictional anecdote - that takes an absurd amount of liberties with the source characters, plot elements, and other structural components, with intent to join said components into a self-serving work that causes grievous injury to the theatrical and intellectual senses of the audience."

In a similar accent, Mr. Chapman added, "And we also understand that you are conspiring to commit impersonation of a comedy sketch belonging to a franchise that is long-beloved by tabletop roleplayers nationwide!"

Right on cue, two more lawyers entered the scene. "Good day, I am Mr. Thompson's Gazelle, and this is Mr. Idle. We are here to prosecute this story on three counts: 1) for grievous injury to walls of a theatrical nature, 2) for hypocrisy in the very act of plagiarism, and 3) - and here's the kicker - for trying to cover up every possible act of plagiarism with a pair of bloody lawyers!" Then he realized, "Wait a minute..."

But he was already being tapped on the shoulder by the next pair of lawyers. He shrugged, "It's a fair cop."