Your town is through. I have seen the way you treat wizards, ostracizing and abusing them, and I am here to repay your unkindness. Your first mistake was to challenge a wizard. That is also your last mistake. Wizards such as I will permit you no mistakes when it comes to ill treating wizards.
For some I will simply kill you. This I will do with fire beams shooting from my fingers. Your bodies will disintegrate from the magical heat. Those who witness this will scream in terror. Run and cry, for you will soon envy those I kill with my fire beams.
Wives and daughters will be imprisoned in magic gems. If you shatter the gems you will only succeed in killing them. Only a wizard can unlock the gems, a poetic justice for a town with such hatred for wizards.
I will raise snakes to slither upright and wear clothes. They will wear shirts but not pants. They will carry swords and hack them into your limbs. They will speak in your language and take your wives as their own. They will love your wives unconditionally and they will be exceptionally erotic lovers. They will teach your children to respect wizards. And if they fail at any of these tasks they shall join your families in the gems.
There will be a legion of stone men, carved from basalt and powered by crystals that glow with magical energy. These stone men will be impervious to all of your bullets and bombs and the stone men will tear you in half or pull out your ears and eyes. They will march in formation and patrol the streets of your town.
I will conjure all of the skeletons from all of the graveyards and make them chase you and vex you at night. They will torment you with their relentless clacking and clatter. It will be impossible to find a moment's rest and just when you have laid down your head a skeleton will burst through the door and run its bony fingers over your face.
My familiar is an owl so I will call upon all of the owls in the community and the surrounding woods and I will grant them the power to speak in a child's voice. This will confuse you and make it impossible for you to locate lost children.
The owls will gradually learn your language and plague you with childlike calls for worms and mice. When you are too weak to stand they will peck out your eyes and devour your genitals.
Some of you I will make invisible. Others I will make as tiny as a crumb. Your invisible neighbors will go mad and touch you beneath your blanket. They will stand against the wall when you use the toilet and watch you apply ointments to a rash. There will be no more privacy at all, and just when you feel you have eluded your transparent neighbors you will be assailed by a skeleton.
Some of your wives, those not wed to snake men or trapped in gems, will be made so that their bodies are transparent, but not wholly invisible. Their skeletons will be visible. Clacking and clattering towards you, distraught when you reject their skeletal advances.
Magical voices will be given to all of your farm animals, from the largest cow to the tiniest chick in the hen house. These animals will plead ceaselessly for their lives and beg you to spare them the butcher's knife. You will be haunted by their cries and when you suppress these constant harrowing memories a skeleton will appear and touch your chest and neck. This skeleton will rub every part of your body. The skeleton will attempt to arouse and pleasure you if given the chance. Is it your wife or the bones of a dead man? If you push it away you will notice the warmth of your invisible neighbor's breath on your cheek.
There is nothing you can do, no way to make right what you have done wrong. It is now your lot to simply endure these revenges I have devised for your town. These are only a morsel of what is in store for your cruel people and I have nearly unlimited time to plan new torments to punish you.
Anything can happen. The wizard can do as he pleases with your reality. In this last night of peace I would advise you to look carefully at the moths drawn to the light, for come morrow they might just be your new masters.
Unless you are disintegrated with my fire beams.
Now, inexplicably, season three is looming over us like some sort of dome. Season one's plot asked whether or not the town could get out from under the dome. Apparently the answer was "no". Season two asked "I guess we're really stuck, huh?" and the answer was "yup".
With an average of 40 IPAs added every day, it can be difficult to taste them all
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.