The Sacred Scrubbin’

Transcription:

I suppose you ballbags need me to catch you up once again, bloody daft numpty. As you may recall, the old bastard roped our heroes in on a quest for seven magic herbs from seven distant lands. After wrangling with fiery hawks, grief demons, windy bastards and that sky serpent they were feeling like a pair of used tea bags. The wizard, true to his word, bestowed on them the power of the ancients, hard experiences that made him stong. They also picked up some new companions on their journeys, magical familiars, the fox and the raven. McGinnis McMcGinnis, the lanky half-mad wizard with a beard that looked like it had been caught in a blender, stood in front of them, eyes gleaming. He had his wand, a knobbly stick that looked like he'd found it in a rubbish heap, pointing straight at the pair. Aye, you've done it all. Fought the hawk, battled your inner demons, navigated mazes with fairies, you're as cleansed as a midden heap. Kevin scratched his bald head, confused as usual. So we're powerful now, aye? Ancients and all that. McGinnis cackled. Aye, you've got the power of the ancients. We did hard things, that's it. But now, you're covered in bad energy like a pig in muck. So we've got to clean you up. A proper chaos magic cleansing. Lance with his shaggy beard looking like it was on strike, grunted. Cleansing? Sounds daft. But if it means I can stop smelling like burnt feathers, let's day it. The fox, sitting at Kevin's feet, snickered. About bloody time, you reek of failure, it muttered. The raven, perched on Lance's shoulder, gave a low croak. Cleanse the idiots before they ruin the cosmic balance again. McGinnis raised his hands, a wild grin stretching across his face. Let the chaos begin. First McGinnis began by drawing an enormous, lopsided pentagram on the floor, using what looked like chalk, mixed with... Crushed biscuits. Who bloody knows? Step into the circle, you fools, he bellowed as Kevin and Lance stumbled into the middle of the design, bumping into each other like a pair of drunken sheep. Right, McGinnis said, eyes twinkling madly. Now tae banish the shite you've been carrying. Repeat after me. He waved his wand, and the room filled with thick, sweet smoke, making Kevin hack like a cat coughing up a hairball. Was this really necessary? Kevin spluttered. Shut it, or I'll add more sage, McGinnis snapped. The wizard started chanting some strange words, gibberish that sounded like he'd nicked them from a pub fight. By the power of farts long held, release these twats from spirits dwelled. Cleanse the idiocy deep and wide, and free their souls from where they hide. Kevin and Lance, eyes wide, repeated it, stumbling over the words like bairns learning tae walk. Each line they said, a gust of wind seemed to blow through the room, making the familiars fluff up and the candles flicker wildly. McGinnis howled with glee, dancing rune the pentagram like a man possessed, tossing sprigs of herbs into the air. The fox and raven joined in, chanting with their own wee voices. Raven's wings and fox's tail. Release these eejits without fail. Suddenly a massive whoosh of energy surged through the shack, knocking Kevin on his arse and Lance into the wall, leaving a lance-shaped dent in the wood. Ah, whit the hell was that? Kevin shouted, picking himself up, but McGinnis just cackled. Oh, that's just the start, lad. Wait till you see whit comes next. The wizard waved his wand again, and the talismans they'd gathered, the fox for Kevin and the raven for Lance, started glowing brightly. Now you daft buggers, it's time to release the last of your shite. Let go o'er all the muck you've been hauling around, all the doubts, all the failures, all the crap that's been holding you back. Let it oot. Kevin bewildered, stared at the fox in his hand. You want me to let oot my crap? Whit like in the garden. Lance, nay better, asked the raven on his shoulder. What do you mean, all this time, I've just been carrying round old shite? The familiars groaned, clearly regretting ever helping these two. Aye, ye eejits. Time to release your blockages, metaphorically speaking. The fox growled. The cleanse-in reaches a fever pitch. At that, McGinnis went full wizard-mode shouting. By the power of the ancient rite, purge these fools of their dark night. Release the binds, let fly the chains. Unleash their souls, free all their pains. Kevin and Lance, their heads spinning, could feel the weight lifting like taking off a pair of too-tight boots after a night out. A huge gust of wind ripped through the shack, blowing open the windows and all the dark, heavy energy they'd been carrying shot out into the sky like a gazer. They stood there, dazed, feeling lighter than they had in years. Their familiars let oot triumphant cries, fox howls and raven caws, and McGinnis collapsed in a heap, panting like a dog after a long run. There, ye daft bastards, ye're cleansed. And so, Kevin and Lance, though nay wiser, stood tall, cleansed at all their baggage and blockages, ready that face whatever shite the world threw at them next. But afore we finish, I've got news for ye, aye ye, the one reading this. Ye've been dragging your feet through your own muck, haven't ye? Carrying crap you should have let go of ages ago. So, while you're here, ye might as well join the ritual. Repeat after me. By Kevin's idiocy and Lance's wit, I cleanse myself o' all this shite. Let go the doubts, let go the fear, I free myself, ye bastards here. There, ye're free too, clean as a whistle, ready to face the world. Tryna tae trip o'er yourself like these two muppets, ye slanchy, ye ballbag. Smell ye later, ye dafties, and after all that don't ye dare think of not liking and subscribing or what have ye. Blessings upon ye, sacred pal, may ye thrive with the strength of land and sea, nay slacking. May your road be clear, even through wind and fire, no excuses, and if ye stumble, the stars better guide your daft arse on a dark night. Walk tall with the spirit of tree and rock, nay fanning about, and dinnae forget to tap and tae the power of the old ancients. They dinnae suffer fools lightly. Bhaon na chan od, a charrith nae oaf.