Author's Note: This new one-shot is completely random humor. I was playing Fable II when I bought the house called 'The Dark Mark' to sleep in. When I woke up, it said I had the 'Mask of Evil' as my particular trait until I slept again. Once that happened, I sort of got giddy and ran off to my laptop with a new idea in mind, completely ignoring the game for a while. =3 I hope you find this as funny as my head made it seem when I was writing it!

Mask of EVIL!
Fable II
Sparrow (Hero of Bowerstone), Hammer, Garth

{Warning: These go in no specific order! Hilarity to ensue. . . }

"That darn Sparrow, running off and not wanting to find time to let us know where she is at!" Hammer growls, lumbering through Bowerstone Old Town and searching for the appropriate house. "I swear, I'm going to knock some sense into that loon, I will!"

"Would you just stop speaking? You are really giving me a headache. If she did not want to be found, she had a reason. We just got back from the Spire last week," Garth grumbles, ambling along beside the hunk of a woman.

Her ears were burning red as she glowered down at the man. "I bet you anything she's drunk as a bird right now and didn't invite me along! How dare she! I'll smash her little head in, I swear it!"

"So that is what you are all worked up over? You missed a chance to get drunk with Sparrow when you were busy getting drunk at the Rookridge Inn? Quaint," Garth rolls his eyes, then looks up at the agonizingly dark house before them. "This is it. The Dark Mark. Unmistakable for it's name, I'm afraid."

"Didn't expect the twit to pick out such a scary house," the woman murmurs, eye twitching. "She owns all of Albion, and she decides to camp here for the night? Ridiculous!"

"Perhaps this is a trap," Garth concludes. "Maybe we are being tested to see if we really believe she is here or not. The Sparrow we know would much prefer something simple and beautiful to this. . . extravagant and horrendous house."

Hammer stares at him for a moment.

And stares.

And stares.

"You really are more stupid than you let on. Sparrow may be smart, but when she drinks she is absolutely imbecilic. She's here." With that statement out of the way- and thoroughly ignoring Garth's rude remarks behind her- Hammer uses her. . . hammer. . . and busts the door from its hinges and across the quaint room, knocking over a duo of chairs, a small end table, and a flower pot in the process. "SPARROW!"

Sure enough, there sat a barking mutt with a happy tail wagging at the sight of the monk and the mage. She stoops down to pet him once, smiling at the creature and cooing over him.

"Can we just get the hero and get out of here already?" Garth begins gliding up the stairs, his Will marks glowing against the darkness of the house. "Sparrow? Are you up here?"

Hammer was close behind him, very close, and staring into the darkness. Something was moving in the corner, shifting and making ugly little noises. "Wh-what is that? Sparrow?"

Gurgle, gurgle. Chew, chew. Giggle, snort, whimper. All sorts of odd, fearsome noises were coming from the little ball sitting face-forward in the corner on the other side of the luxurious bed. Garth hurries to light a nearby candle with his magic, realizing how close the oaf of a woman was to his back. Frightened.

"THE LIGHT!" The little ball did not take too well to the candle, hissing venomously and sounding like a hobbe. "TURN IT OUT! NOW-SAYS ME!"

Neither of the two make a move to blow out the candle, Garth slowly moving closer and closer to the bundle. A distinct head of crimson-colored hair was bundled up in a waving hairstyle, usually very pretty but now matted and thick. Sparrow. . .

"What in the name of Avo is going on here?" Hammer curiously leans over the Will-user's shoulders, the glint of the ocean-blue eyes burning up at her. "Sparrow, what are you doing?"

"Go away! I have on the mask!" she hisses, a covering across her eyes and hands shooting up to protect. "THE MASK!"

"What in the world is she talking about?" Garth grumbles, meeting eyes with Hammer. She shudders, looking away from his freaky glowing orbs and back down at her friend.

"I think she's still drunk. It isn't even morning yet, after all," Hammer mumbles, walking around him and reaching a hand out towards her friend. "Come here, little Sparrow. It's time to go play hero."

"BACK!" Sparrow leaps on the bed, throwing her deadly fists in the air, one of which was clutching a bottle of The Gangreen Fairy. Apparently she had been to Knothole Island recently. . . "I will conquer Avo, Skorm, and any other deity that gets in my way! IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS EEEEV-IIIIIIIIIL! EVIL I TELL YOU! I WILL BE SUPREME OVERLORD OF ALBION AND ANY OTHER NATION I DECIDE TO TAKE A ROYAL SHIT UPON!"

"I'm getting irritated," Garth sighs, charging up a spell in his hand. "How long do you think she will go on?"

"I WILL TAKE SAMARKAND AFTER THAT! THEN I MIGHT TRY AND TAKE OVER THAT DESOLATE DESERT AREA NO ONE REALLY CARES ABOUT! AND-"

Hammer had already dragged a chair from the other corner of the room, a new bottle in her hand and laughing all the while. She was not afraid any more, obviously amused by the parading hero wearing nothing but her undergarments. "Oh, hours at the most. She really is something when she is drinking. Sit and watch."

"FOR ONE HUNDRED YEARS! A VAST ARMY OF ALTERED BALVERINES AT MY BECK AND CALL, RIPPING THROATS FROM ALL MY VICTIMS! HOBBES TO KNOCK OUT PEOPLES KNEECAPS AND STEAL THEIR SHINS SO NONE WILL EVER BE TALLER THAN ME AGAIN! OR-"

"That's quite enough," Garth snorts, throwing a heavy ball of electrical energy at the shouting drunkard, knocking her clean from the bed and against the sill.

Sparrow groans, the mask across the floor and dissolving into nothingness. "What in blue blazes is going on? I feel like I just got hit with Hammer's hammer, or something ridiculously painful along that line."

"You aren't drunk?" Hammer drops the empty bottle from her hands, whistling innocently. "Then why the hell were you screaming about taking over the world? Makes me worried to follow you, mate."

"Oh! Is that all?" She laughs, getting to her feet and rubbing her head where a bump was forming, thanks to the windowsill. "The Mask of Evil, that's what."

Garth stares at her. "Mask of Evil? Care to explain?"

"Well I was drunk last night. Me, Sam, and Max were drinking in the graveyard and when I finally stumbled in for bed a few hours ago, I wound up evicting the tenants that were living here and passed out. The Mask of Evil is the perk for sleeping here," she explains cheerfully, pulling on the clothing that was scattered about. "Though I don't remember getting undressed. Oh well, that's what happens with that shit. I saw little green goblins stealing my socks too."

"Wait, you mean to tell me you got that hideous mask, which is now gone mind you, from sleeping in this house?" Garth rubs his brow. "How stupid is that. Mask of Evil, really."

"Yes, really."

"You really are turning out to be more moronic than the oaf over there."

"Hey, I heard that! At least I'm not a damn glowstick! Bet you are a real riot at raves, huh?"

"Besides that, Mask of Evil."

"Yes, for the last damn time! Mask of Evil!" Sparrow walks past the two as if nothing was different and as if this was a normal occurrence. "Now, come on you two. You are wasting time when we have an Albion to save." She wobbles down the stairs.

Garth and Hammer look at one another slowly, both shaking their heads and following after her. The two never realized the little bump that appeared under the pillow of the master bed in the room.

"Yesssss. You willlllll be baaaaaack. I'lllll be waaaaaiiiiiting foooooorr youuuuuuuu, Heeeeroooooo!" A high-pitched little giggle, and the mask curls up to go to sleep, waiting for it's favorite victim to come back.

Little did it know, a tiny mask was forming over it's eyeholes.

Sparrow's Friendly Tip: Don't sleep in the Dark Mark. It has magical masks that make you want to knock people's shins out using hobbes.

...LMFAO. Review, guys... Just review. -walks away laughing at self for writing this-