The Order of the Stick: Lumber Hulk

 

            Once upon a time, the Order of the Stick was walking through a forest when suddenly- “Hold it right there!” Belkar Bitterleaf angrily shouted, interrupting the writer’s train of thought.

 

            “Listen up you little piece of crap.” Belkar shouted once more whilst threateningly pointing his twin blades at the fourth wall, “Now don’t go think that just because your writing this stupid fanfic, that means we’ll do whatever you freaking want!” The rest of the Order watched Belkar’s ranting with a mix of horror and annoyance. “If you start making us act OOC, slash fic us, insert yourself as a character, or try to throw in some Mary Sue crap, I’m gonna shove my swords right up your-“

 

            Suddenly, Belkar’s rant was interrupted by him suddenly, and inexplicably turning into a poodle. As Belkar barked in horror and fury, Roy shook as Durkon pointed out, “Ye brought dis oon yerself Belkar.” “Yeah,” Elan added, “writers have to power to control reality within their story.”

 

            The Belkar Poodle continued to whine as Vaarsuvius shouted, “Just silence your tongue, you degenerate halfwit! The sooner we have completed this fan fiction writer’s non-canonical story, the sooner we may resume our canonical quest to locate starmetal for Sir Greenhilt, so that he might reconstruct the ancestral weapon which his family is named after.”

 

            Belkar let out a growl of defeat and suddenly turned back into the sociopathic Halfling we all find hilarious, “Fine then, lets get this crap fiction over with…”

 

            “Belkar,” Haley suggested, “you really shouldn’t try to tick off the writer.” Suddenly, an inexplicable Umber Hulk jumped out, ambushing the Order. “An ambush!”

 

            The Order quickly rolled initiative and prepared attack, only for Umber Hulk to suddenly threw up its arms in panic and screeched, “What the hell? Why are you pointing those weapons at me? What did I ever do to you people?”

 

            “Uh,” Roy began, “You did just jump out of nowhere and ambush us.”

 

            “Did it ever occur to you all that maybe I just happened to be strolling through the woods and happen to run into you all?” “Well, I guess not-“ “Exactly! You PCs are all the same! You treat everyone you meet like they’re only purpose is to serve you! I never wanted this! I never wanted to be a walking piece of experience fodder! You wanna know what I always wanted to be?”

 

            “No, I wanna slit your throat so I can get another level.” “Belkar, lets just hear him out. We’ll probably get plenty of exp just for roleplaying it.”

 

            “I… I wanted to be… A LUMBER HULK!” The Umber Hulk proclaimed loudly as it ribbed of its chitin, revealing a stereotypical lumberjack clothes over top a second chitin.

 

            “You have got to be freaking kidding me! He’s making us do a Monty Python skit?” “It’s probably based on the Lumber Hulk incentive comic, Belkar.” While most of the Order either complained or groaned, Elan had rushed off immediately after the Hulk had said ‘lumber’ and returned with Mounty costumes for the Order to wear, including wigs for Roy and Durkon, which the Order reluctantly changed into as the Lumber Hulk continued.

 

            “Leaping from tree to tree! As they float down the mighty rivers of the Northern Continent.” A female Umber Hulk then took her place on the right side of the Lumber Hulk. You could tell she was female by the pink dress she was wearing.

 

Lumber Hulk

The Greenwood!

The Darkwood!

The Living Steel!

The Flexible Whipwood!

The Wyroot!

The smell of fresh cut timber!

The crash of mighty trees!

With my best girlie by my side!

We’d sing! Sing! Sing!

Oh, I’m a Lumber Hulk, and I’m okay.

I sleep all night and I work all day.

 

The Order of the Stick

He’s a Lumber Hulk and he’s okay.

He sleeps all night and he works all day.

(I can’t believe we’re doing this.)

(I know, right?)

 

Lumber Hulk

I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,

I go to the lava-try.

On Wednesdays I go shoppin’

And have buttered scones for tea.

 

Order

He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch,

He goes to the lava-try.

On Wednesdays he goes shoppin’

And has buttered scones for tea.

(Seems a might odd fer a lumberjack.)

(It gets weirder.)

(Indeed.)

 

He’s a Lumber Hulk and he’s okay.

He sleeps all night and he works all day.

 

Hulk

I cut down trees, I skip and jump,

I like to press wild flowers.

I put on women’s clothing

And I hang around in bars.

 

Order

He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps,

He likes to press wild flowers?

He puts on women’s clothing

And he hangs around… in bars????????

(That sounds pretty weird.)

(Really? I fail to see the problem with that.)

(Yeah, you wouldn’t.)

 

He’s a Lumber Hulk and he’s okay.

He sleeps all night and he works all day.

 

Hulk

I chop down trees, I wear high heels,

Suspenders and a bra.

I wish I’d been a girlie,

Just like my dear momma!

 

Order

He chops down trees, he wears high heals,

Suspenders and a bra?! No! No! No!

He wants to be a girlie? What kind of crap is that? Freaking weirdo!

 

            While the rest of the Order walked off stage, Elan continued to sing with the Lumber Hulk.

 

He wishes he’d been a girlie,

Just like his dear momma!

 

            What soon followed were, in order: The lady hulk slapping the Lumber Hulk and running off stage in tears, whilst a horde of offended ogres threw rotten vegetables at the two. Shortly there after, the Lumber Hulk was beamed between the eyes by a large brick, to which a letter was attached which read as follows:

 

“            Dear Sir,

            I wish to complain on the strongly-est possible terms about the song which you’ve just broadcasted about the Umber Hulk who wears women’s clothes. Many of my best friends are Umber Hulks and only a few of them are transvestites.

            Yours faithfully,

            Brigadier, Sir Kaelthas Arthas Thrall, Mrs.

P.S.

            I have never kissed the editor of Crystal Times.            “

 

            While Elan toweled off the vegetables, the rest of the Order discussed what they’d just did, “Well, that’s a couple panels of my life I’ll never get back.” Roy groaned as he changed into his regular clothes.

 

            “I dinnae know Roy, I actually kinda enjoyed meself,” Durkon said, still wearing the wig, until Belkar stole it and threw it at a nearby owl.

 

            “Well, I definitely enjoyed it!” Elan proudly declared once he’d dawned his bardic clothes, “I’ve been wanted to do that ever since bard camp!”

 

            “Yeah, well, let’s just get back to finding that starmetal,” Roy ordered, “and hope nothing else weird happens.”

 

            “You mean like us getting attacked by a paladin, Haley losing her voice; me becoming a mighty pirate; you dying; Durkon turning into a tree; Vaarsuvius making a deal with a demon, a devil, and a daemon; and Belkar acting nice?”

 

            “Yes,” Roy replied, “exactly something like that. Something weird, random, and completely impossible.”

 

            As the group continued on their quest, V then said, “I still do not understand what is so unusual about a lumberjack who has an affinity for women’s clothes.”

 

            “Yeah,” Belkar snarked, “You wouldn’t.”