Faisel’s sorrows Part – 5

“Ay Sid you little weasel!” The gruff shout set the assistant’s voice inside his head to squealing in terror. Calm down boy, What the hell is wrong with you? Though of course the lad listened none. “Come the fuck here you little toad or I’ll beat two shades of shit into you like last time.” Like last time? Sid’s face frowned as he recalled the time that the little bastard had hobbled into his room black and blue, completely covered from head to toe with bruises to the extent that he had developed a temporary limp as he hobbled here and there. Back then he hadn’t cared whatsoever, provided the boy did as he was told, who gave a shit about who did what to him? But now? Now effectively Sid was him, or He was Sid, whichever, therefore… This severely pissed him off.

“Excuse me?” The same flat dead tone used as when he had spoken to the Mayor.  The wizard narrowed the boy’s eyes as he turned to glare at the origin of the cruel words. The sight of a huge man greeted him, his arms as wide as barrels, his chest rippled with as many muscles as scars that lined his face, his gaze evidently practiced evil. Not bad. “That’s a good look you got there, really brings out the ape in you.” Sid’s voice continued nonchalantly. The look of surprise that the man;s face morphed into made the remark totally worth it.

“You- uh, how, what?” The buffoon stuttered. Evidently more brawn than brains.

“Watch out!” Yelled Faisel through Sid as he faked a look of terror and pointed above the fool’s head, immediately the oaf’s eyes went wide as he ducked with hands above his head, the response so ridiculous that it left the dead wizard in a fit of childish giggles.

“You’re gonna die boy.” Growled the brute as he straightened up, his cheeks rosy with embarrassment. Slowly he moved toward the young boy, knuckles with under the pressure of his clenched fists. “Any last words?” the bastard smiled cruely.

“End, finish even loser, losing or lost I suppose.” The boy retorted quickly. Again the brute halted with a  frown.


“Well, they all effectively mean “Last” in one way or another. I have more if you need them? I assume your pea brain doesn’t have the capacity for linguistics’ hence why you’ve asked for help?”

“Are you calling me stupid?” The man asked stupidly, the question genuine.

“Why yes, I believe I am.” With a roar the moving mound of muscle flew forward, his fist flew rapidly toward the young lad’s face with a speed that would shatter his skull.

“Nuh, uh, uh.” Tsked Faisel as he raised one hand, the advancing fist halted immediately as if stopped by an invisible force. Which it in fact was. The surprised look was back on the dolt’s face, his arm stuck before him as he attempted to tug the fist backward.

“What av’ you done you little fucker.” He roared as his other hand grasped the wrist of the one stuck before him. With another gesture from the boy, the brutes hand joined the other, bent over at the waist with two arms extended, the man looked rather ridiculous. “Let me go!” A further gesture incinerated the bully’s clothes, his miniscule penis shrivelled even further in the sudden cool air until it practically disappeared inside him.

“Well that certainly looks like a cock…” Faisel paused with a look of mock contemplation as he eyed the tiny member. “Only smaller.” He shrugged as he nodded warmly to the old lady that chuckled slightly as she walked on by, a wicker basket under arm stuffed full with strangely long, fat turnips.  An idea hit. “Excuse me ma’am, may I steal one of your vegetables?” With a chuckle the old woman stopped, the top piece of veg pulled free.

“Certainly Sid, with manners like those how could I refuse!” She threw the food over to him which he caught mid air. “Good to see old Faisel’s taught you a thing or two finally, new he’d sort you out eventually.” She smiled and continued on her way. With a grin he took hold of the turnip with his miagic, the vegetable hovered before him before it made a beeline over to the naked bully.

“Wha-what are you doing!” the petrified call elicited a giggle from the voice of his apprentice within his own head. The turnip had now manoeuvred itself so the thin pointy end was pointed to the space between the man’s but cheeks, the thug, unable to move had contorted his head as far as it would go backward to try and catch a glimpse of what was going on.

“Giving you what you deserve.” Faisel grinned as he spoke, his spare hand swished to the side, a move that cause his victims legs to part a good amount, his dirty arsehole now exposed to the cold air. With a grimace the turnip-controlling hand made a push motion, the turnip itself disappearing into the filthy hole right up the fat end to leave a tuft of vegetation to sprout free.
“Oomph” The bully huffed as his eyes damn near bulged from their sockets.

“Have a nice day.” Faisel smiled to the man as he continued on his way.


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