Rising Shards

Chumbler Shards #26: “Chumbler Wins Everything She Ever Wanted (Well, Lots of What She Wanted…)”



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Chumbler braced for another lava jumping challenge room, or worse, another customer service one as she followed the very tall Queceilitrex through another magic doorway. On the other side was an office with a regular sized desk on it. Queceilitrex sat down behind it, squatting almost like a frog to fit behind the desk.

“This is your final challenge,” Queceilitrex said as she slid a clipboard forward.

“Do we have to eat it?” Chumbler asked.

“Eat what?” Queceilitrex asked.

“The clipboard.” Chumbler said.

“No.” Queceilitrex said. The normally unflappable denizen of the void frowned at the idea. “Why would I challenge you to eat a clipboard?”

“It’s just…well, if you did have that as the challenge…” Chumbler said. She patted herself proudly and burped. “Let’s just say this girl has eaten a clipboard or two in her time.”

“Really?” Queceilitrex asked, her eyebrows raising, sending a glittery display of her natural aura of energy upward.

“It’s true,” Z.O.K. said. “Metal clampy part and all.”

“Wow.” Queceilitrex said.

“So maybe we should do this challenge instead of delving into that further.” Typo said.

“Ah!” Chumbler yelled.

“What? What is it?” Typo asked, looking around.

“I…forgot you were still here,” Chumbler said. “I thought you died a few challenge rooms back.”

“We were…just talking five minutes ago, weren’t we?” Typo asked. “You were going to show me around your casino. It was a warm conversation.”

“Speaking of warm,” Chumbler said, elbowing Z.O.K. “I thought the lava got this Typo guy for good.”

“No, I think I did too,” Z.O.K. said. “I’m pretty sure I saw like…your bones burn up.”

“Maybe you were just optimistically daydreaming.” Chumbler said.

“So I’m thinking we should ask Queceilitrex what this challenge is instead of delving into the demise you two thought I had any further.” Typo said.

“Are you sure the old people didn’t kill you? And you’re like a ghost now?” Chumbler asked. “Actually, I’m bored of you again already. Queceilitrex, babe, darling. What’s this lovely paper on this clipboard you got? Want us to eat it?”

“It’s a contract for your wishes. Your casino,” Queceilitrex said. “And your popularity, Typo.”

“And I get…?” Z.O.K. asked.

“You’re included in the casino, dummy dum-dum dummy. Dumb.” Chumbler said.

“Yes, that was my intent,” Queceilitrex said. “If you have any other request to add for winning my games, I may be willing to add it to this.”

“Oh!” Z.O.K. said. “One night, just you and me—"

“Except for that.”

“Aw.”

“So what’s the catch?” Typo asked. “We sign this contract…and? What’s the challenge?”

“The pen’s kinda tough.” Queceilitrex said. “Like it’s almost out of ink. And if you don’t sign it fully, where like the ink isn’t all on the paper, you lose. But you won all the others and I kinda vibe with what you three bring to the table, so I skipped a bunch of the challenges where you sell your soul or get flattened by a steamroller, the real murder zone stuff.”

“Chumbler, did you hear that?” Z.O.K. said.

“We skipped the challenges that probably would have killed us?” Chumbler said. “That we won?”

“No,” Z.O.K. said. “She vibes with us. Queceilitrex vibes with me.

“I can make you a better casino than the one you were using,” Queceilitrex said. “There’s a plot of land that just opened up in a node that just got shifted closer to where you seem to be most active in the overall void.”

Chumbler started to drool. Her own property. For gambling. All for her. Her trembling hands reached out to the contract, struggling to hold the pen in her hands from how excited she was.

“How do you know all this stuff?” Z.O.K. asked.

“I’m really really good at searching the void equivalent of your internet.” Queceilitrex said. “It’s one of my many powers.”

“Marry me.” Z.O.K. said.

“Quit asking questions and being thirsty for Queceilitrex and just shut up!” Chumbler said. “Shut up so we can get to the us winning part!”

“You just have to sign it.” Queceilitrex said.

Chumbler pressed really hard with the pen because it was out of ink. She signed her name. She won. She was about to have it all.

Z.O.K. and Typo signed the contract as well, none of them reading the text on it.

“So now what do we do?” Chumbler said. “When gamble? Casino? Big casino? Chumblerosa?”

Queceilitrex smiled slightly. “This.” She said, pointing to the disco ball descending above them. “Congratulations. Let’s really enjoy this.” The ball fell on the desk and exploded in a brilliant display of Endoran energy.

From the wave of whatever that hit her, sparkles cover Chumbler’s vision, which was kind of like fainting. Her vision began to swirl, turning pink, then pinker somehow, continuously turning pinker as she saw her dream come true before her eyes.


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