Thread:NoCarbonRequired/@comment-32994909-20180408223822

(By the way, this is just #1. So don't be like 'oh, I'll just read this and then close the thread and there will be no more.' There WILL be more.)

There was once five friends. They lived together in a small house, in a hostile area full of monsters and supernatural beings. Upon realising their resources where very low, they realised that there chances of survival where at stake. So they split up, one friend went North, one friend went South, one friend went East and one friend went West.

Carbon had to go South-East, since the friends did not properly plan the spreading out in order to retrieve maximun resources.

All of the friends had a weapon. Carbon had forgotten what weapon he had packed. He stopped and opened his backpack. He was full of excitment, was it the 20 inch sword, the enchanted potions, the wand with many ancient spells or the bow equipped with flammable arrows?

He quickly opened his backpack to find that his weapon was... Jamal's porn magazines...?

'What the fuck?' Carbon yelled, frustrated.

He tipped his backpack upside-down and spilled out, about ten magazines, twelve, fifteen. He even saw some toys in there.

Although these items brought great joy to others, Carbon shivered at the thought, it would bring only  to him. He had little desire for sex, instead he wanted to slay evil monsters and supernatural beings, his dream was to be remembered for eternity in legendary battles. He smiled at the thought.

His smile quickly turned into a frown when he realised that Jamal had taken his weapon by mistake, and since he was heading North, it would be almost impossible to find him and switch the weapons back.

How the hell was Jamal supposed to use these as weapons, anyway? Carbon wondered. Maybe he could use this slippery-gel type thing to... blind the enemy? He rubbed some on his hands. What the hell is this stuff? And why is it stained everywhere in this bag?

As the sun set, Carbon wondered how Jamal would react to the weapon mix-up, this was the time he usually used the weapons the most.

Just as that thought passed, somewhere, very far away, a groan of pure dissapointment was heard. 