Located in the recording studio in the main building for Riot Games, the new champion spotlight video is in production featuring a very special guest. “So you just want me to talk about the new champion, right?” said Dunkey as he settled into his chair. As he adjusted himself comfortably, he accidentally caused the chair to squeek in a certain tone. A certain tone that sounded like a –
“Did you just fart?” asked Phreak, seated across from Dunkey.
“I... No! I just...” Dunkey desperately rubbed his legs against the chair to re-enact the sound, but to no avail. “God, why don't the f*cking chairs squeek again after making everyone think you f*cking farted!”
F*ckin' chair... Dunkey thought to himself.
“Oh, that's okay, Dunkey.” said Phreak. “I love to fart before spotlight videos too!” Just then, Phreak leaned slightly to the side and let loose the most rank and putrid fart beyond imagination. It was like something crawled into Phreak's butt-hole, died, came back to life, farted, and died again. Suddenly, Phreak began voraciously inhaling the gas as he wafted the air toward himself, his hips spasming rhythmically. “OH! OH YEAH! Oh, bby. OH! BBY! THAT'S IT! I'M... OhoOhohoOHOHOHAH!”
Phreak's body suddenly fell limp. Dunkey hesitated, unsure what to make of what just happened. Concernedly, Dunkey reached toward the man, but Phreak – thankfully – woke and resumed conversation.
“Sorry about that, Dunkey. I...” Phreak hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I like to inhale my own farts. That way, the fart comes back into my body and makes its way through to coalesce with more farts to come. It's a cycle of rising intensity that just really gets me going, you know?”
Dunkey could understand the feeling perfectly. He was like that with his splooge after all. He's continued the cycle so that someday, when he finds 'the one' he'll be able to coat that person with all the love he's saved over the years, but Phreak's cycle is just strange.
“Anyway,” spoke Phreak, “Yeah, that's all you have to do, Dunkey. You just have to talk about the new champ for a couple minutes and then we're done.”
Dunkey leaned back and cracked his fingers in anticipation. “Let's get this show on the road then!”
“Hey there, guys. Dunkey here and welcome to the champion spotlight for...” Dunkey paused and turned to Phreak. “What's the new champ's name again?”
Phreak menacingly stood up from his chair and replied, “Dunkey gets raped.”
“Oh, okay. Welcome to the champion spotlight for... wait, what?!”
Just then, Phreak completely dropped trou and revealed his fully erect p*nis. It was really tiny though. Like, super small. Like, as small as Yorick's fanbase. His balls were normal-size, but extra saggy and they drooped to Phreak's knees. Also, his ball-hair was covered in sm*gma.
Dunkey, though dumbfounded by what he saw, was enraged by Phreak's deception and angrily shouted, “YOU SET ME UP, PHREAK! YOU SET ME UP!”
Suddenly, Phreak viciously tackled Dunkey and pinned him to the ground. “Hope you've been having fun with those 'weo weo' videos you've been making.” Phreak whispered into Dunkey's ear. “Because, by the time I'm done with you, you're going to need a weo weo ambulance! Get it!? Because that's the sound an ambulance makes! WEO WEO WEO WEO!”
“Phreak... please...” pleaded Dunkey. “You're hurting me. I am weak and defenseless before your overwhelming strength.”
Phreak smiled, still mounted on Dunkey; prepared for entry. “Good, now let's have some – guh!”
Suddenly, Dunkey broke from Phreak's suppression and he was already standing behind his aggressor. Dunkey quickly and adeptly wrapped his arms around Phreak in a choke-hold. Confidently, he whispered into Phreak's ear, “Uh, oh. Dunkey lied.” Dunkey couldn't bring himself to just choke Phreak into submission so he promptly released his attacker and shoved him forward for honorable battle so that, hopefully when Dunkey kills Phreak, he will receive +1 honor. “You'd have to do a lot more than that to take me out, Phreak! Now,” Dunkey gathered his energy into his body for the ultimate strike. “Here's a little move I picked up from Street Fighter!”
“TATSUMAKI SENPUCOCKSLAPYOURMOM!” With explosive force and blistering speed, Dunkey delivered a mighty spinning double roundhouse kick to Phreak's chest for tons of damage, causing Phreak to explode into a million triforce-shaped pieces.
With a moment's reprieve, Dunkey breathed a long sigh of relief. He paused to take in his surroundings. The room – the recording studio – was a mess. The microphone stands, the chairs, the brick-layed walls were all covered in globules of Phreak's splattered remains. Even the pane of glass seperating the recording room and the rest of the studio was liberally coated with gore. The glass! When Dunkey looked to the glass he saw a trio of suited men approach from across the hallway toward the recording room. It was only a matter of time before they apprehended Dunkey. I have to get out of here. Dunkey thought. He desperately surveyed his surroundings once more and noticed there were relatively thin windows on the upper part of the walls behind him. With gusto, Dunkey managed to leap halfway into the highly placed window and climb through. As he pulled himself outside, the men behind him brandished handguns and fired liberally toward Dunkey, but each shot missed and careened into the walls instead. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Dunkey sprinted away from the building, jaywalked across the street, and fled into the subway station nearby.
Quickly, and with a discrete facade of calmness, Dunkey purchased a ticket for whatever train was departing at the moment and he boarded it promptly. As the doors slid shut and the train shifted forward, Dunkey fell into his seat and gathered his wits. These men in suits; they were definitely after Dunkey. Shots were fired. He killed Phreak, but why was Phreak allowed to entrap Dunkey into attempted r*pe in the first place? Those suited men also appeared awfully soon. They couldn't have been police or even the guards. Something was missing. Dunkey looked around the train in case anyone had pursued him and sure enough, several cars down, were the same trio of suited men from the studio. They didn't seem certain of Dunkey's location, but he didn't want them to find out so he tried to sneak further from them, but sure enough, he was spotted and the men made chase. With desperate fear, Dunkey sprinted further through the train, shoving through the other passengers, until he was in the very last car behind the conductor's. He managed to lose the attention of his pursuers, but the men knew Dunkey ran this way and with no escape they'd surely capture him. Dunkey tried to open the conductor's car, but that was naturally locked.
Yet again, Dunkey was forced to survey his surroundings for sanctuary, but he couldn't find any place to hide or run. Suddenly, a loud thud noise sounded behind the window near Dunkey. Outside the train car, a robed man sticking to the outer walls of the train drew Dunkey's attention. The man gestured toward himself and then pointed upward, as if to say, “Follow me.” Faced with little choice, Dunkey nodded his consent. Instantaneously the man reared his fist into the window, shattering it, and reached toward Dunkey. Pulling Dunkey closer, the man spoke into his ear, “Keep your head down if you want to live!” The man pulled away from Dunkey and deftly climbed up the car. Dunkey followed. Atop the car, Dunkey saw the robed man crawl backward and reach toward the broken window and touched the emptiness. Somehow, he had managed to replace the window.
For the better part of an hour, Dunkey and the robed man held on top of the train until it finally began pulling into the next station. As the train began slowing, the man crawled toward Dunkey and shouted, “When the train stops, follow me!” Soon, the train had come to a halt and the man began crawling forward with Dunkey behind him. Together, the man and Dunkey leapt from their perch and crouched in the tracks in front of the train. The man handed Dunkey another set of robes like his own and when Dunkey put them on, the man whispered, “Remain calm. Walk; don't run. I have a safehouse nearby.” Together, the two climbed back onto the station docks and walked toward the exit without drawing the attention of the suited men who had presumably retread the train to the rear cars.
Exiting the station, Dunkey was about to ask who the man was, but the man spoke before Dunkey could. “I know you have a lot of questions, but you need to save them until we get to the safehouse. All I can say for now is that you need to trust me. Now, through this alley. It'll be the next building on the right.”
Inside the safehouse was a single room, albeit a relaxing atmosphere. Wood-finish table and generously cushioned chairs, a mini-fridge with microwave oven sitting on top, and a single mattress. On the walls however, were numerous pictures of people in tears with plaques commemorating their nerfs.
Rework ruined. Very awesome work!
Rework completely blows chunks. Does less damage and tanks less while also having a butchered early game. Super awesome job!
Rework made her really strong. Nerf?
There were many more plaques. Too many for Dunkey to keep track of, but the man broke the silence before Dunkey could peruse through any more nerfs. “I'm sure you're wondering why those men were after you.” The man stooped over toward the mini-fridge and pulled out a couple Monster© energy drinks and handed Dunkey one, which Dunkey accepted.
“The truth is,” the man continued, “Someone is very scared of you.”
“Scared of me?” asked Dunkey.
“Yes. This person, shall we say, has noticed that your videos are enlightening the masses to something she doesn't want known. A truth that can't be revealed, else she lose power.”
Dunkey was beginning to get frustrated from all the beating around the bush, “What are you talking about!?”
The man with straight solemnity answered, “Irelia! Ever since her induction into the League of Legends, her influence in Riot Games had taken root and grown chaotically. As it stands now, she is the most powerful representative of Riot Games and her power continues to rise. Up to this point, her power and influence had largely been swept under the rug to the public, but your videos – the ones you make about League of Legends – have made people begin to take notice of the elephant in their room. If enough people become aware, nerfs will be imminent. Those suited men who were after you – they were an instrument of Irelia's.”
This was a lot to take in, but was perfectly understandable for Dunkey. He knew what he was doing when he made his videos, but he never dreamed of the consequences.
“If those men were sent by Irelia then why would she have Phreak after me too?”
“Oh, that's just a sadistic hobby of Irelia's. She really likes Yaoi so she tends to force it upon others for her enjoyment. In your case, I assume she wanted you to die by Phreak's tiny ding-a-ling, but she sent others as back up.”
Dunkey was finally running out of the adrenaline from before and exhaustion crept into him. He took a seat in one of the chairs, but accidentally rubbed the seat into making what sounded like a –
“Did you just fart?” asked the man.
Dunkey blushed and blurted, “What! No!! I... oh my god, I f*cking hate chairs! Why do they always do this and why can't you ever recreate the sound!! F*cking chairs, I hate them so much!”
The man laughed and replied, “It's okay, Dunkey. I know you didn't fart.” The man laughed heartily more. “You haven't changed a bit.”
The atmosphere and the flow of the discussion suddenly changed.
“Who are you?” Dunkey asked.
“Don't you recognize me, buddy?”
The man took off his hood and revealed his face for Dunkey.
“It's me! Morello!”
By reflex alone, Dunkey lurched forward and embraced Morello. Morello happily returned the favor.
“I thought you died, man.” said Dunkey. “When we tried to nerf Jax – I thought I lost you.”
“I know, Dunkey.” Morello assured. “But I'm here now. And we succeeded. Jax actually sucks d*ck (until he got buffed... a lot).”
Dunkey shoved Morello away in jest and rebutted, “You suck d*ck!”
Morello drew closer to Dunkey and they locked eyes as he spoke, “I'll suck your d*ck.”
Suddenly, Dunkey and Morello started kissing and fingering each others' butt-holes and stuff. It was pretty hot if you're into that kind of thing, but if you've ever seen what Morello looks like you'd probably change your mind. When they finally broke their embrace they disrobed and stepped outside the safehouse for some public intercourse which is pretty hot too if you're into that kind of thing, but again if Morello is involved, you'd probably change your mind.
“Hey, Dunkey.” said Morello as he kneeled in front of his partner. “Do you still like puns?”
“Oh, you know I love puns, Morello.”
“Well, sorry if this pun is a little sh*tty...” said Morello as he spread his thunder-thighs. “But this booty-hole is members only!”
“Honestly...” replied Dunkey as he got his Phreak on. “That pun was quite anus!”
“You're so an*l about these jokes, Dunkey!”
“But you know, with the iceberg, this is just the tip, Morello!”
“You're so c*cky!”
“You seem butthurt!”
“Whatever, come at me, bro!”
And just like that, Dunkey fired one off so hard that it travelled through Morello's butt and projected out from his mouth at bullet speed, then bounced off a nearby trashcan lid, ricocheted into the sky, travelled all the way to the Shurima Desert, and landed in Ezreal's mouth.
Thoroughly exausted from their affairs, the two fell back against the alley walls.
“That was a pretty awesome nut, Dunkey. I didn't think you'd hump me so diligently” said Morello.
“Well, you know me.” replied Dunkey. “I don't stop for nuttin'!” Completely satisfied with the puns, Morello just blissfully slid to the ground. Dunkey leaned over as well, but as he fell, the friction against what he had leaned on before caused a certain sound...
“Oh, come on! What's a f*cking chair doing out here of all places!? Fffffff*ckkkkkin' chairs!!”
After the two had cleaned themselves up, Dunkey and Morello held a council within the safehouse over a home-cooked dinner from Morello. The feast was quite generous and very well-chosen for their tastes. Heaping helpings of home-made Doritos©, Mountain Dew© Game Fuel, Monster©, 5-hour Energy©, and many a glass of Pewdiepie's semen were to be had. Each delicacy featured a unique and wonderful taste. Pewdiepie's semen in particular was very filling because it was so chunky and full of nutritious Swedish syphilis emulsion. Amidst the bountiful meal, the setting was still very heavy with anticipation.
“So what's the plan?” asked Dunkey.
Morello drew a swig of Pewdiepie's sour spunk before responding, “Plan?”
“You know – to stop Irelia.”
Morello refilled his glass with more of Pewdiepie's chunky come. “Honestly, I'm not sure what to do. We could try to wait for an opportunity to strike, but I fear we'd risk Irelia becoming too strong to stop at that point. Needless to say, we can't confront her directly either. She'd just steamroll through us, although that would be pretty funny to just walk up and call Irelia overpowered and expect nerfs.”
In his imagination, Dunkey saw the image of the two walking up to Irelia's doorstep and calling her out. Dunkey chuckled at the thought. A venture like that would be suicidal, but what if...
“What if we did call her out on it?” Dunkey said.
“What do you mean?”
“You said it yourself. We'll confront Irelia and tell her she's broken – on livestream. If she accepts that she's overpowered then she might willingly accept nerfs. If she doesn't accept and fights us, then she'll be labelled a villain by the viewers and Riot will nerf her instead.”
Morello didn't respond immediately. He took another swig of Pewdiepie's Swedish splooge first before slamming his glass back onto the table. “And what if she defeats us? She'll be nerfed, so what, but we'll be dead! There's no way the two of us alone can take on Irelia!”
Dunkey quickly replied, “What if we weren't alone?”
No response from Morello. Whether he was interested to hear more or unsure of what to say didn't matter though as Dunkey continued.
“What if we had help from someone on the inside at Riot, but without any sort of allegiances? You said it yourself we can't wait for an opportunity to strike so we'll make one!”
Morello sighed with complacency. “That may be a fine idea, but I don't know of anyone who works at Riot and doesn't have any loyalties.”
“I do though.” Dunkey replied. “There are only two, but I know it's enough to get the job done!”
“NASUS!!!!!” Renekton warbally yelled at the top of his lungs as he ferociously pounded on his roommate's door. “NASUS, COME OUT OF YOUR ROOM AND FACE ME!! YOUR BROTHER DEMANDS IT!!”
Behind the closed door came Nasus's voice, calm as ever. “Renekton, please do not disturb me while I pleasure myself with my pocket p*ssy. My semen will flow out my dog d*ck, like the sands of the Shurima Desert flows out LeBlanc's v*gina.”
Renekton was enraged at Nasus's disinclination to fight, so much so that his fury bar was instantly full, and he pounded on the door with greater intensity. “THAT'S NO EXCUSE, BROTHER!!” NOW COME OUT HERE AND FACE ME!!!”
“Okay.” replied Nasus as he unlocked his door. Without delay, Renekton opened the door and readied his blade for combat, but when he entered he saw his brother was still getting a little Siphon Strike action of his own and, without warning, Nasus suddenly projectile nutted all over Renekton's body. Renekton's fury bar exploded into a fury cube as he froze in a catatonic rage. With a moment's time to process what just happened, Renekton took a deep breath to retain his composure, but when he did so, Nasus fired a second barrage of his canine nut – straight into Renekton's mouth.
“URRRRAAAABRBRBRRRRRR!!” In an explosive rage, Renekton slashed all around himself. “THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD IT! FORGET THE FIGHT, I'M GOING TO CLEAN MYSELF UP!” Renekton turned from his brother, his face flushed. “Y-you Stay in your room for a while! I n-n-need some privacy!” Renekton promptly left the room, slammed the door behind him, and immediately started jerking off. I'm covered... in my brother's semen! He thought to himself.
Renekton secretly had a major crush on his brother, Nasus but he always tried to keep it hidden with a facade of anger. What had appeared to be an incomprehensible lust for his brother's blood was, in reality, sexual lust for his brother's canine c*ck. He just wanted a real brother relationship. Just the thought of it, and the smell of his brother's semen was so hot for Renekton that he was so close to – close to...!
*Knock, Knock, Knock*
The knocking at the front door distracted Renekton just enough to make him lose focus and he had to try again to climax as he started his jerkin' his gerkin with more fervor. Again, that sweet, sweet moment was fast approaching. Just... a little... more...
*Knock, Knock, Knock*
There it goes again! Renekton lost focus once more and his fury bar grew with irritation, but he obstinately continued to coax his crocodile c*ck. It took a lot of effort, but finally Renekton neared climax yet again. There hadn't been any knocking for quite some time so hopefully whoever was here had given up and left. He was almost there... almost... there...!
*Knock, Knock, Knock*
“Oh, come on!” The cold-blooded croc tried to ignore the knocking as doggedly as he could, but his hot-blooded c*ck had neared climax so many times it thought it already fired one off and fell limp. Boiling rage took over as Renekton screamed at the top of his lungs, “WHAT IS IT!!!?” while he pulled the front door out the frame. It turned out Nasus was outside, knocking at the front door. Suddenly, Nasus nutted again all over Renekton's anger-driven face. Renekton, so confused, yet turned on by his brother's bountiful spunk, suddenly nutted in response all over Nasus's body.
Across the street, witnessing this act, were Dunkey and Morello. It didn't seem to perturb them however. Probably because Renekton and Nasus have been doing this song and dance in public for several years now. The two slowly approached the brothers, putting their basking in the real brother relationship to a halt. Dunkey was the first to speak.
“Umm, Renekton? Nasus?”
The brothers turned their semen-soaked visage upon Dunkey and Morello. Nasus replied.
“Yes? What is it, young one?”
“Uhh...” Dunkey faltered for a moment, but pressed on. “May we step inside for a bit?”
Obliging Dunkey's request, Nasus and Renekton welcomed the two into their home. The interior was quite the oddity. There was no floor of which to speak. Instead, layers upon layers of sand covered the ground. Along the walls were numerous bookshelves reaching to the ceiling and with each row filled completely with books. To odden the atmosphere further, the kitchen, which led from the living room, was quite regular in appearance: Tiled flooring, kitchen counters, table and chairs, the works.
With hospitality unbefitting of his title, Renekton offered Dunkey and Morello to lunch. “Would you two like some fried pony?” he said.
“Yes, please.” replied Dunkey and Morello simultaneously.
Renekton, Nasus, and Morello all sat together at the kitchen table, but Dunkey remained standing.
“You know...” said Renekton as he swallowed a mouthful of fried pony. “It's not everyday you find some good pony meat. You could say it's quite the Rarity.” Everyone guffawed at Renekton's pun. It wasn't to say that they hated ponies, but it's always great fun to mock bronies' tastes.
“But, you know, this one was actually quite easy to obtain because it had turned against its owner and attacked him. You could say that this was quite the Feral Pony.” Another guffaw from the group.
“You have to appreciate the subtle sweetness of the meat. In fact, when I cooked it I sprinkled just a Rainbow Dash of sugar, but don't fill up too much! For dessert I baked us a Pinkie Pie Spiked with brony tears.” Yet another round of laughter from everyone. Heh, bronies suck.
The meal was wonderful and Nasus and Renekton were very hospitable. It was actually quite disillusioning to see Renekton in this sort of light. Even when Morello callously pointed out how polite Renekton was, he merely laughed it off and replied, “Just so you know, I got my title – Butcher of the Sands – for having the highest quality meat in all of the Shurima Desert!”
All of them still enjoying the meal, Renekton shifted his attention toward Dunkey. “Why don't you have a seat? We have a good chair right there.”
Dunkey shifted uncomfortably as he hesitantly replied, “No, thank you.”
Renekton, fury bar filling slowly with irritation, offered the seat once more, “No, please. I insist! Take a seat!”
“I'm sorry, but I don't like f*ckin' chairs. They always squeek like I'm farting...”
Fury bar already full, Renekton balled his hands into fists and he harshly slammed on the table. “YOU TAKE YOUR SEAT RIGHT NOW OR I'LL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH, YOU MINNOW!”
“Okay, okay!” Dunkey relented as he seated himself. When he did so however, the friction against the seat caused a certain sound...
“Did you just fart?” asked Nasus.
Fury overwhelmed Dunkey so much that he developed a fury bar of his own. “F*cking chairs!! Why do they always do this to me?! I didn't fart! It was this b*stard right here!! Why is this always happening to me!?”
Nasus bellowed a hearty laugh. “Oh hohohoho, there is no need to fret so much, human! It is only a part of nature. There is nothing of which to be ashamed unless you are a woman because girl farts are gross!”
Nasus's reassurance, though misguided in actuality, had helped to calm Dunkey from his anger spell and, seated together, the group resumed their meal.
“Now, tell us, child.” said Nasus. “To what purpose did you desire our council?”
Dunkey replied swiftly, “We need your help – both of you. There is someone out there who's power has grown far too greatly – Someone who needs nerfs. Together, we plan on confronting this person, but we need your help. We need your help in nerfing Irelia!”
Renekton loudly bellowed his shift+4. “Nerf Irelia?! Do you know what happened the last time Irelia got nerfed? They reverted everything the very next week AND they buffed her AD.
Nasus joined in his agreement, “Indeed. What had once been an obligatory farming lane had become a warzone. She is, much like my Atari Jaguar, broken. To attempt to nerf her would only result in destruction.”
Dunkey stood up from his seat in defiance, “We won't know for sure unless we try! You know she needs nerfs!”
Renekton rebutted with complacency, “Of course she does, but it won't do any good. The fans will just cry about their favorite god-tier top laner so much they'll flood the world. It's best to just give up.”
Suddenly, Morello leapt from his chair. “I'm sorry, but did you forget who I am? I am Morello Nerfmaster Sucktown! If you don't help us I'll nerf you!”
Nasus bellowed an empty and derisive laugh. “We already suck balls on the Fields of Justice. No one picks us anyway. Any nerfs will just reinforce the desire to not pick us. However...” Nasus trailed off as Renekton spiritedly finished his brother's sentence.
“No matter how much d*ck we suck at this game, we'll still always put up a fight!”
Renekton approached Dunkey and shook his hand as he said, “It's the least we can do for you after making us look so cool in your videos!”
With heightened vigor, Dunkey and Morello discussed the plans with Renekton and Nasus. The plans were simple, yet effective, and unanimously agreeable: Find Irelia and fight her over a livestream edition of her very own champion spotlight. Each warrior donned his respective apparel for combat: Dunkey – equipped with an iron-head Bo Staff, Morello – armed with his magical nerf bat, Renekton – wielding his brutal Bat'Leth, and Nasus – holding his enchanted scepter. Together, the group set out for the Riot Games main building for battle. Today, Irelia will fall.