By: Robert Michniewicz

The death of Billy Bob was a celebrated event. Even Baalgraa, the leader of the human resistance to the goats in Jaazabaaal, congratulated me publicly. He gave me a medal, made of his own hair and a little piece of paper that said: "I slaughtered Billy Bob in the streets of Jaazabaaal, and all I got was this stupid medallion." This was attached to the band of hair by a melted piece of Baalgraa's brass nut. It was quite an honor.

Our hideout was deep below the city, visible only to those who happen to look in the broken manhole cover on the intersection of 1st street and 2nd street (you'll be hard pressed to find a goat that's a civil engineer). It's a series of interconnected tunnels with rooms branching off wherever someone felt like digging it. All tunnels led to a main amphitheater, which was where I, and everyone else, was now, celebrating the death of a faggot, and the small blow to the heart of the LOG's forces in Jaazabaaal.

"To the great faggot, Billy Bob," cried Baalgraa, his face already contorted with bitter mead face, "may the Lord of the Goats suck him off and his underlings collect his drippings in a fine, gingham cloth, worthy of the presentation to the gathered crowd."

The person to my right leaned in to say, "He has a way with words, our Baalgraa does."

I nodded, proud of my leader. If someone had to lead the Resistance, Baalgraa would anally dominate him, slit him from testicles to philtrum, and step on his body, for he was much greater. We all cheered him and the drinks were passed out for the merry-making. I pitied whoever they got to clean up afterwards... the floor always ended up a seething mass of living bodily fluids, both expulsory and creative.

After having a drink or two to loosen me up, I noticed Kyria, the beautiful girl in the loincloth who threw the firebrand that night. She was still wearing the same outfit, scantily clad in only a Jurassic fur combination, exposing the tops of her breasts and all of her thighs. She could have taken a penguin away from furry-worm smacking, she could, and we all know how much those little guys like playing with... their... little guys. Teasing the Hobbit is all the fun they get in life.

Much to my delight, Kyria pulled me away from the main chambers and into a small side tunnel. She lead me by the hand into her room, which was quite a walk away from the amphitheater. Still with a mug of mead in my hand, I slothfully followed her into her room.

It was quite spacious. With her looks she had probably gotten the entire commune to help her dig it out. Maybe a flash of a tit or two, and she would get her way. If she needed to go that far. She actually had a mattress for a bed instead of hard-packed dirt with a pillow made of mud and goat piss like the rest of us.

She pushed me onto her bed and took the mug from my hand, throwing it over her shoulder. She straddled me, pushing me to a lying position on her bed. What I thought was coming... wasn't.

Kyria slapped me. Hard.

"What the feck are you doing?" I spluttered, awakened from my half-drunken stupor.

"That's better," she said. "I don't like you drunk."

I rubbed my sore face. "Well, I'm not now. Gebus, you're strong!"

She flashed me a dazzling smile and stood up, pulling me up with her. "I heard something that I think you should know. Baalgraa's been having dealings with the goats."

"That's impossible! He's the leader of the Resistance!"

Kyria turned away, walking to the other side of the room. "I know. I heard him in the far section of the tunnels, you know, the part that comes closest to the palace? He was meeting with a group of goats. Their leader had a tuft of his forelock dyed red. That's pretty high up in their hierarchy. Captain, I believe. They were discussing something I couldn't hear, then the goat gave him a purse full of money. That's probably how he got all this mead we're drinking tonight. Whatever they were talking about, it can't be good."

She looked at me, waiting.

"I believe you."

She threw her arms around me in a tight hug. "I was so afraid no one would believe me. Even though everyone hates Baalgraa..." That was definitely true. Respect him we did. Like him, we did not. She drew back to peer into my eyes. "What are we going to do?"

It hurt to think about anything but her eyes, but I replied, "I'll have to go call him out. I don't think anyone else would help take him down. They hate him, but they fear him more."

Kyria nodded and pulled away completely. I felt cold all of a sudden. "I'll come with you."

"No, he would only try to use you as a hostage or something. You don't need to be there."

She nodded, unhappy but obeisant. As I moved to leave her room, she grabbed me by the arm and gave me a sound kiss. After an eternity, she pulled away and smiled. "For luck," she said, pushing me out the door.

Outside in the hall, I succumbed to a douche chill. Women...

When I returned to the amphitheater, Baalgraa wasn't there. After asking a few people, I learned that he had disappeared an hour ago. I figured he might have retired to his room, even though it was still early, so that's where I went.

Baalgraa's room was definitely the largest. He had had all of the members digging it out and retooling it. It was about half as large as the amphitheater, no doubt about it. We could have had rooms as large, but Baalgraa had forbidden it. It was just one more reason to hate the goat-loving bastard.

As I approached his room, I spied a light coming from the cracked door. I tiptoed over and pressed my ear close. There were two voices, heard clearly from where I was.

"Why must it be tonight?" That was Baalgraa.

A voice I'd never heard before said, "My Master dictates it. Thus must it be." Curious, I peered through the crack to see who the unknown speaker was. To my disgust, it was the goat with the red forelock. I actually had some doubts about Kyria's claim, but straddling me as she was, I wasn't about to tell her that. Now it was proven. Baalgraa was commanded by the LOG.

Before I realized what I was doing, I burst through the door, screaming, "Baalgraa, you goat-loving whore!" That was mistake number one.

I didn't check out the room as I entered. That was mistake number two.

Two goats kicked my legs out from behind me and forced me to my face in front of Baalgraa and the goat-Captain. The dirt tasted remarkably like stale cheerios. "What's this?" the goat-Captain said softly. "A pitiful human hoping to challenge us?" He laughed, a queer sound echoed by the two goats holding me down. I struggled to get up, but their sharp hooves dug into my back. I felt one draw a trickle of blood.

"Let him up," Baalgraa said. I felt the hooves leave my back and stood up slowly. Without warning, I turned and kicked the throat in of the goat who had drawn my blood. As the other goat rushed me I snarled and kicked him right in the testicles. As he was on the ground, I snapped off one of his horns and stabbed him in the neck with it.

"Drawing my blood was the last thing you'll do, goat-whore," I said. Resuming a pleasant manner, I turned to the goat-Captain. "My apologies for killing your men, Captain. They displeased me."

"Such insolence..." mused the goat. "This cannot be tolerated. You will die by my hooves."

"Suck goat cock!" The Captain merely looked puzzled.

"He's a fag," Baalgraa told me, shrugging.

I shrugged, then launched myself towards the goat, the sharpened horn still in my hand. Slick as my hands were, it took most of my effort just to keep a hold on it. The Goat-Captain was skilled at combat, this was easily apparent by the way he danced around me, and by the way he always managed to cut me with his hooves and I was still standing there, clutching my pitiful goat horn.

Obviously, I was outmatched.

I managed to block a slice from one of his hooves and stabbed him in the ankle. "Feck! That smarts," he cried, trying to suck on his ankle, which of course, wasn't possible with his anatomy. Seizing this time, I threw my horn at Baalgraa, where it implanted itself in his throat. With a spurt of blood, he toppled, driving the horn even further in. This was most unfortunate, for I now found myself on the floor again, a sharp hoof pressed against my throat.

"It doesn't matter that you killed the traitor. The raid was set for tonight, you fool! Most of your friends are probably dead or made prisoner by now!"

The cruel laughter of the Goat-Captain followed me down into the black silence on my mind, where I waited,... umm...waiting for my chance at revenge