'You don't want to know what happened,' he said finally. 'Believe me. Suffice to say I... I gave some bad advice.' He grimaced. 'Some... very bad... advice.' He drained his bottle. 'It didn't end very happily,' he finished primly. 'Or... cleanly. Or... in one-piece-that's-not-on-fire-y.'
Cuthbert waved his hand dismissively. 'Rules schmules!' he said. He felt it was a pretty sound argument. 'Rules are for losers, riddles are for...' He stopped, wondering what the opposite of a loser was. 'Not losers,' he finished.
Or, at least, quash the urge to discreetly spit into a napkin?
I’ve been really struggling with Cuthbert lately. Not with any particular problem on Cuthbert, just summoning the will to work on it at all.
I’ve spoken about this before – how, in choosing to do this hard slog of refactoring, I’ve effectively set the progress of the whole game sprawling backwards.…
Continue reading'Go on, then,' Dave hissed in his ear, 'kneel!'
Cuthbert hurried over to the throne. He flashed the queen his brightest and most I'm-an-extremely-capable-hero-est smile.
'Kneel!' Dave hissed again and he dropped to the ground.
He could feel the queen's gaze on his neck. His pulse beat in his throat.
'What is your name?' the queen asked. Her voice was cool and sweet. She over-pronounced her Ts. That meant she was really posh.
'You can't just go barging through doors protected by riddles all willy-nilly,' she fumed. 'What sort of place do you think this is?'
'One with stupid rules about doors,' Cuthbert muttered under his breath.
The guard on the right glared at him. 'What was that?' Cuthbert stopped short. 'I said time with a crooked fool is a chore,' he said, proud to have thought of some inoffensive rhyming words so quickly.
The guard on the right glared at him.
'What?' he asked brightly.