"Never."
"Never?"
"Never."
"Huh," Ted scratched his chin as he nodded along. "Definitely wouldn't have guessed that looking at you."
"And yet it is true." Trizel leaned his arm on the kitchen counter as he took a sip from his mug.
Ted tapped the large wooden spoon on top of the pot of bubbling green liquid. He opened his mouth to say something when the two of them froze as the chicken strut her way in past them. Their eyes were glued to her as she jumped up onto the fridge's handle and putting one foot on the door itself, forced open the handle. As the fridge slowly swung open, she sat down on a small crate filled with hay. After a moment of silence where she stared straight at Ted and Trizel, she got up and hopped out of the fridge. Left behind in the crate was a single egg, and with a kick of her foot, the fridge door swung shut and sealed itself.
When she finally left, Ted realized the green liquid had started to boil over. He panicked and started to stir it vigorously, which ended up spilling more before it finally settled down. Though a chunky liquid was currently cooking into both the stove and the outside of the pot.
"I enjoy the eggs, but," sighed Trizel, "I do not think I will ever get used to her doing that."
"At least she's giving them up willingly and not trying to keep them all to herself up in the master bedroom she laid claim to."
The giant shook his head. "Yes. Though it would have been quite the story of revenge to lay siege to her fortress. Ah, and with a bounty of as many eggs as we could eat instead of the one or two a day we get now."
"In case you forgot, things didn't go so well the last time we fought her."
Trizel dismissed Ted's concern with a wave of his hand and a "Tsk," as he defended himself, "No, that was an attack by her. It was no fight. Why if I had truly fought back, she would have been nothing more than feathers on..."
He paused as the corner of his eye caught something. It was the chicken standing defiantly in the doorway. Silent as usual, and her cold unblinking eye staring right at him.
"Er, what I meant was...I would never fight such a beautiful creature of course."
Ted snickered and shook his head as he continued to stir. "Whatever you say, oh great king of the skyborne isles."
Trizel sighed as a brief melancholy filled him. "I do wonder what has become of my glorious kingdom without me. I held so much of it together, no doubt there is infighting among the survivors, and I cannot see the scattered remains of the rebels that assaulted my castle being capable of any sort of ruling."
The chicken flapped up to the counter and closed her eyes as she seemed to nod in agreement.
Ted turned off the heat and continued to stir the bubbling liquid as it slowly cooled down. All while Trizel went off on a rant about how difficult it is to manage a kingdom. The chicken stayed next to him on the counter and nodded her head in agreement on several points. It seemed his frustrations had made him completely forget she was even there.
"Alright," said Ted as Trizel grumbled to himself about short sighted children. "Any chance you could help me with this Trizel?"
The giant let out a sigh and shrugged. "Sorry, yes. You just need me to lift again, don't...aaah!"
He jumped as he finally noticed the chicken sitting near him.
"Oh, didn't you know? She was there through your whole rant." smirked Ted as he grabbed a giant rice strainer and some cheesecloth.
"What? No," gulped Trizel in more surprise and embarrassment than fear. "I didn't carry on that long, did I?"
The chicken got up, ruffled her feathers slightly and nodded at Trizel before jumping up onto the open window. She let out a short, "Bawk" as she jumped out.
"Oh, how quickly the tides have shifted Trizel. Seems she just really likes you."
"What! That is ridiculous."
"Hey, some people express things in weird ways. Maybe she's just a tsundere."
"A what now? Is that even a word?"
"It means...never mind. Let's just take care of this batch."
Trizel nodded and covered the top of the pot with the cheesecloth. "So, you think this one will taste better?"
"Well, I know there's some kind of sugar in the seeds of those bushes. So, I figure I'd try using that instead of pure sugar." He situated the flat strainer over top of the empty barrel and nodded. "It'll at least be something different."
The chunky liquid slowly made its way through the cheesecloth. It came out in little more than a small drizzle despite being nearly full.
"Well, looks like this is going to take a while."
Trizel shrugged. "I could hold this for hours. But why am I doing this? Don't you want the seeds from the bush in the drink to use as the sugar?"
"Well, not quite. I'm terrible with beer terminology though. It always felt like the more complicated version."
"Beer complicated? Hah! It's just fermented wheat water, isn't it?"
"Have you ever had chunky beer?"
"Well..."
"Exactly, and this is the same. It's not exactly beer, but we're essentially trying to get the food for the yeast out of the seeds. Crushing them and boiling them was supposed to help do all that. The high temperature is supposed to help break it down and separate what we want from all the chunks."
"I see, and you did this often?"
Ted shook his head. "It was a hobby, and beer was...well, beer always felt too daunting. Everyone said you needed all this specialized equipment and keeping it at exact temperatures through each step was incredibly important. While things like mead were just through some honey in a gallon of water with yeast and a couple raisins, put a balloon with a few holes on top and you're done. It just takes so much more to get sugars from grains than more sugary foods like fruit. I had only done it ever as like a gift thing for people that absolutely loved beer."
"Hmm, I never would have though such a staple drink could be complicated. It always seemed like they just threw everything into a barrel and beer came out."
"Hah! I wish."
The two of them continued to talk about various things from Trizel's list of favorite flying monsters to what supermarkets were like in Ted's world. Finally, they had gotten most of the liquid into the barrel and decided any more was too much effort. Yeast and a quick trip into the time machine was all that was left. Yet, as they started up the machine, they heard a gunshot.
"That came from outside somewhere." Ted pointed out as he peaked his head out the window.
"Curious! Must be a mage to cast an explosion spell like that."
"Things didn't go so well last time we checked something out outside."
"What? That was merely a fluke. Who could have known that hole was as deep as it was?" dismissed Trizel. "Besides, we both survived did we not?"
Ted shuddered. "Fine. Let's just go check this out. I mean, not much else to do around here."
"Aha! An expedition it is. Come, we should hurry before..." he leaned in towards Ted and whispered, "before that chicken finds them first."
The two of them left to explore. There weren't any more gunshots, or explosions, but they did hear some distant grumbling. Soon enough, they found the source. A covered wooden wagon was in the middle of some bushes. They couldn't see anyone there, but the bushes were waist high. Then, another gunshot and Ted's apron that had been neatly around his waist slid off onto the ground below.
"That's close enough," called out a cold voice from the wagon. "Who are you, and where is this?"
Ted put his hands up and Trizel raised an eyebrow before letting out a loud, boisterous laugh. "My companion's name is Ted, and I am the great king Trizel Forellian king of the skyborne isles. Ruler of..." as he started to go into a rant, he remembered what had happened and let out a defeated sigh. "Sorry no, I was king before dying to some kids. Now I am just Trizel, and that is Ted. And this, why this is the afterlife."
"Fella you're not talking any sense."
"Yeah, I don't think it's an afterlife. Because then why would I be here? I'm not dead. We're just in some strange world without any sun and constant lightning storms without any thunder."
A man stood up from behind the wagon. He had a rifle in one hand and was holding onto the front of the wagon with his other. His face was aged and colored by a harsh sun and a layer of dust. Under his crooked nose, he had a thick moustache that curled up at the ends. With just a hint of stubble clinging to his gaunt face. Unfeeling brown eyes sat under his flat top, wide brim, black, Spanish hat. He had a weathered brown leather duster on with dark clothing, and at least two bandoleers full of bullets across his waist nestled close to a pair of holsters holding matching ivory handle pistols.
The man pulled out a cigarillo, and with a hand protecting it from the wind, struck a match on the side of his rifle and lit it. As he smoked it, he looked over Ted and Trizel.
"Neither of you are armed, and this is an awful lot of green here." His calculating eyes appraised them as he casually rested his rifle against his side. "I'll ask again. Who are you, and where is this little place I find myself?"
Trizel smiled. "He's a killer. You can see it in his eyes. Maybe that's why he holds so many wands. Yes, he is no fighter, but an assassin!"
The man smiled. "Seems you've got a good eye." he let out a small, slightly unsettling chuckle. "That's right. I'm a killer for hire. Name's Sentenza," he paused a moment to gauge their reactions before he continued. "Whenever I'm paid, I always follow the job through, no matter what.
"Well, I wish I could tell you where exactly you were, but we don't really know." explained Ted. "We've all kind of just appeared here like you, but maybe you'd like to come with us and get a drink where we can talk over things?"
Sentenza slowly scratched his neck while he mulled over Ted's words. "A drink huh? Have any whiskey?"
"Uh well, we're kind of short on every kind of supply," gulped Ted. "So, we've just got some basic hooch, and it isn't..."
"It'll be some of the foulest liquid you've ever tasted!" Interrupted Trizel proudly. "But it will get you drunk better and faster than anything you've tried before."
Sentenza kept scratching his neck as he considered their words. "Only problem is my wagon is stuck. Not only have my horses disappeared, but my front wheel is broken."
Trizel let out a loud laugh as he moved closer with a big smile. As soon as he stepped towards him, Sentenza lifted his rifle. In less than a second, he had trained it on Trizel and fired. The bullet just barely skimmed by his cheek, leaving a small cut and a trickle of blood.
"Watch yourself there big fella. Unless you want a few more holes added to that empty head of yours."
Trizel glared at Sentenza. "If you want a fight mage, I will make sure you won't live to regret it."
"Go ahead," said Sentenza as he sent the spent casing from the rifle, "make my day."
"Why don't we just all calm down for a bit?" suggested Ted. "Trizel just wanted to help with your wagon, and Trizel he had no way to know what you were going to do when you just started getting closer."
The three of them all stood still as a gentle breeze blew by. Until at last, Sentenza started to laugh as he lowered his rifle. His laugh was dry and almost seemed mocking. "Alright, I'll bite. Sure, he's big, but how is that fella gonna help with a busted wheel? Is he gonna pull it himself?"
"I'll do you one better," smirked Trizel. "I'll carry it!"
He did in fact carry it. Walking right up to the covered wagon and lifting the entire thing above his head. With that, the three of them walked back to their defacto home. The wagon was set on the gravel as Sentenza forbid any of them from inspecting its interior closely. His quick hands made the decision not exactly difficult. Once inside, Ted brought a third chair up to the table. With Sentenza and Trizel already sitting down, Ted realized the time machine was beeping and went to pull out the new brew. Not sure what they'd want, he decided to bring out all three of the current varieties. The freezer distilled rum, the brown sugar wash, and the new bush beer. With nine mugs full on a tray, he brought it out to the table and saw Trizel and Sentenza already deep in discussion over how they ended up here.
"I was on the hunt for this buried money you see. A collection of banks heists from Deadwood to Bandera all holed up in one place. It was in my sights. I even had this...partner of mine...digging it up. Then this kid comes up over the horizon shouting about it being the people's money or some nonsense. Anyway, I shoot him, and he falls, but gets back up. I swear I shot that kid a dozen times, but he wouldn't stay down. Then he fires back, and I see this blinding light. Swear I could hear someone whispering, and I find myself tied up in the ropes on my wagon out in that field back there. I was upside down, and so I shot out the rope to free myself. I tried moving the wagon myself since I felt like a sitting duck in that field. That's when you two yahoos showed up."
"Ah, so you died too." nodded Trizel sympathetically.
"Don't think so," murmured Sentenza. "Never lost a gunfight before. Should've won that one. Something was wrong before it even started."
"Wait, let's go back a bit," suggested Ted. "You heard whispering? What did they say?"
Sentenza grabbed one of the mugs. Seeing that, Ted quickly split up the three different kinds of alcohol in front of each of them. Sentenza raised an eyebrow and took a long drink. After setting it down he nodded. "A little sweet for me. But that's not bad. Got a bit of a bready undertone to it. Not bad kid, not bad."
Trizel looked confused and saw it was the green brew. Excited, he tried it himself and downed the entire thing in one gulp. "Ah! Yes, that is much better, though it still feels like it is missing something."
"Hops." nodded Ted.
"Huh?"
"Hops. Without hops, or some other bittering agent, no beer, or beer offshoot will be quite right."
"Interesting..." Sentenza said before trying another drink. He winced and then after a small cough, chuckled. "Ah, that's a pretty harsh Rum right there."
The three of them all started to laugh and as the night went on swapped stories of their life. With Trizel and Sentenza dominating the conversation as they spoke of their unbelievable exploits. While Ted happily listened in, and they frequently offered feedback and compliments on different drinks. With Sentenza especially being able to pinpoint exact flavors and recommendations for his preference. All in all, it was a fun night as the three men rinsed their woes in the comforting waterfall of alcohol.