Barbeque pit duende

With the right to drink fruity juice granted, Iori wasted no time in chugging down the entire bottle she was given. Just as the bros said, the rash disappeared, and Iori's face was back to normal.

"Now you're fruity. Enjoy your Labor day!" the Laybuhday bros waved.

"And you two can go fuck yourselves for giving me that rash in the first place," Iori snarled as she chucked the empty bottle at the bros' makeshift grill.

To everyone's shock, the grill suddenly fell apart, drawing everyone's attention.

"Uh, fruity bros did it," Iori nervously smiled as she attempted to flee.

"YOU BROKE ME GRILL!" a gruff voice roared out.

The lights suddenly went out, with the exception of some lights on a nearby stage. Pillars of fire erupted as the curtain opened and a bearded old man in a black cowboy hat, boots, sunglasses, and t-shirt began crawling out like a zombie. Cybernetics lined his body with his eyes glowing an eerie shade of red.

A heavy metal melody began to play as lyrics blasted out of the loudspeakers throughout the room. "YOU'RE GOING DOWN TO THE TOWN OF BRISKET! I GOT MY BARBECUE BOOTS ON! YOU'RE GOING DOWN TO THE TOWN OF BRISKET! I GOT MY BARBECUE BOOTS ON!  LABOR DAY! STROMBOLI! GRILLED MEAT ON MY BARBEQUE BOOTS!"

"Ah shit, It's Joel Duendink, the grill pit boss," Sponge growled as he threw his spatula down in frustration.

At the mention of his name, the bearded man rose to his feet and sprinted right up to Iori. "YOU, GURL! YOU DONE BREAK MY BBQ GRILL! NOW HOW I GONN MAKE STROMBOLI PIZZA NOW, HUH!?"

"I don't know? You fuck yourself?" Iori scoffed.

"I ain't fucking my ass with my micro cock! Now I'm challenging you to a wrestling!"

"Chess wrestling?"

"What the fuck!? Never heard of that shit! Wrestling n' grilling's all I've been doing back in Sweden, Texas!"

"'Sweden, Texas'? We got another senile geezer here?"

"IT'S REAL! There's even Norwegian bastards the next town over! Got a damn murder house in that ghost town of theirs!"

"Oo, what's the "murder house"?"

"WHERE I'M GONNA MURDER YOU! SO... THIS HOUSE!" Joel roared as he attempted to lariat Iori, only to slip and fall right onto a chair a guy in a fat purple mascot suit was about to sit on.

Muffled screams rang out as the purple blob mascot plopped his ass down on Joel's head, suffocating him. Joel kicked and flailed, but there was no getting that fat purple ass off him.

"And later, creep-o," Iori snickered as she began skipping away.

"FUCK THIS SHIT! I AIN'T DYING TO SOME PURPLE CHICKEN NUGGET SHIT!" Joel roared as he finally managed to free his head.

"Oi! Who's fighting in my bar!?" a female voice shouted.

Everyone began to clear a path as a beautiful bald and browless woman clad in a chartreuse long-sleeve shirt, skinny jeans, and white sneakers strutted towards Joel and Iori. This was Milka Pakao, one of the head brokers of Inferno's den. Just 23 years old and originally hailing from Serbia, Sharma had once had a modeling career before being caught red-handed by gossip press engaging in illegal sports betting in California, she had fled to Japan and used her winnings to buy up the land Inferno's den was on.

A gifted gambler, she was not to be messed with in games of luck, but in a game like chess, she was mortal, and had a rating of just 2077. She had been beaten once, resulting in her being forced to go full peak femininity and have her head, eyebrows, and eyelashes shaved and waxed bald. Though she bawled her eyes out the entire time as her prized wavy blonde locks were sheered, she quickly awakened a bald fetish and now enjoyed her daily and nightly shaves. If she was feeling really sexy one day, she'd have her head shaved and waxed publicly to entertain the guests. She did prefer wearing fake eyelashes in public, but in private, she'd gleefully have her maids peel them off with their mouths before lathering her up for her bedtime shave.

"Well check out that glean on you," Iori whistled.

"Mmm, that uniform. You're from oni-tiger's school. Damn kid ruined business by wrecking the underground chess here. Also couldn't stop getting aroused from my sexy smooth bald head. Not like I mind the latter, but the former I do. If you're here for Desperados, I'll warn you that you'll be kicked out the moment you become too powerful," Milka glared.

"You kick people out for being OP? Hell yeah, I'm down! How many fools I gotta beat?"

"You're clear for now. That oni-tiger bastard would come here constantly and take down the highest-rated Desperados near daily. But I find you do the same or worse, or you're serving as his proxy, out ya go. We can't have the house losing."

"Sure, sure. I've only played two games against scrubs."

"Then why not play Joel for the grill."

"Uh-"

"If you're here just for recreation, that shouldn't be an issue."

"Yeah! Lose, and I'll... I'll... uh, MURDER YA ON THE GRILL... IN A1 SAUCE!" Joel roared.

"Fine, and you lose, it's your cyber ass that gets turned into a grill," Iori grumbled.