Look at your hero. Now look at mine. Now back at your hero. Now back at mine. Sadly, your hero isn’t mine. But if your hero stopped wasting his time eating silly, normal meals such as “midnight snack” and “brunch” and started eating dunnch, it could be as good as mine. Look down. Back up. What is your hero doing? He’s eating fried butter on a stick, with cold vodka and mayonnaise to wash it down with. Look at your places in the pantheons. Back at me. Your hero is now at 1st in all of them, including both creation and destruction. Look again. Your hero is now in 0th place! Anything is possible when you eat dunnch every day. I’m on the Internet.
Fun Fact: Dunnch is capable of whistling, but not snapping.
The tales described below are the great tales, tales passed down by the great deity Ariman while he had nothing better to do. They are the tales of deception and honor, of courage and cowardice. Tales of tolerance and annoyance, of optimism and cynicism. Of arrogance and apathy, of stinking weasels and of aromatic altruists. They are tales spanning the space-time continuum, quantum physics, the multiverse, string theory, and other multisyllabic words Ariman heard at the physics conference. Their greatness can be your own, provided you have 10 payments of $19.99 ready.
It is recommended that you read these chronicles aloud to every passerby unfortunate enough to be within earshot, first in your normal voice, and then in a sort of high-pitched whine. Should you be incapable of performing either of these actions, instruction on how to do so is conveniently located on the back of the chronicles. Should you be incapable of understanding written English, it is highly advised that you give up hope, then read these chronicles anyway. Giving up hope will not allow you to understand written English such as these chronicles, but it will amuse the great god Ariman, and you, Shirley, can agree that doing so is the only thing that truly matters. Should your name not be Shirley, Ariman has changed it. It is now.
Joyous Fact: Dunnch’s signature avian limb strike is a technique known as the “Falcon Dunnch.”
Dunnch is the greatest hero ever conceived by the wonderful and handsome god Ariman, though given how well he’s been working out, it’s unlikely that Ariman is ever going to make another one. Dunnch is also the chosen bearer of the Triforce of Dunnch, which gives him some great powers, including… um… I’ll get back to you on that. Throughout his rather brief existence, he has been toughened by his god’s harsh punishments… and innumerable “Game Overs” (at this time of writing, the number appears to be 53). For the most part, Dunnch is a fairly unremarkable hero, with few golden bricks to his name, and a rather dismal W/L ratio in the Arena. He simply toils along in his daily existence, brutally slaughtering monsters for money and weird artifacts, before blowing everything on alcohol, concerts, and equipment that looked good in the ads, but doesn’t do what it’s supposed to. He lives a sad, sad life, and is a rather unimpressive individual, not worthy of the title of “hero” that has been so lovingly bestowed upon him. He has done the title a great shame by wearing it, and has been a very bad boy. Dunnch is an utter waste of disc space carbon, and does not deserve to exist.
Exuberant Fact: Dunnch is right-handed and left-footed, though he desperately wishes it were the reverse.
Despite all of that, though, Dunnch embarks upon his adventures with a blissful – if not befuddled – smile upon his face. It is wise to not mistake this smile for one of good will, for Dunnch is almost as mean-spirited as his creator, with an insatiable bloodlust that can only be sated via the sating effects of copious quantities of alcohol. With a magical Mallet of understanding in one hand and a magical ad-blocker in the other, Dunnch gleefully plows through hordes of enemies, laughing ecstatically as the blood splatters across his face… until he gets hit and cries and runs away and crams restorative herbs into his maw. But, still. Loves killing stuff. Yeah.
Adventuring isn’t just fun, games, and gory carnage for this young hero, however. Remember that bit above about the few golden bricks? This is one of the main reasons that Dunnch embarks upon such ludicrous quests of questionable importance, and its a wonder they’re only being elaborated on six paragraphs in. I mean, what the hell kind of shoddy chronicles are these, really? Anywho, the point is, the all-knowing, omniscient deity Ariman (for whatever idiotic reason) has entrusted his comically hapless hero, Dunnch, with the task of building Ariman a great and shining temple, constructed from a thousand gleaming golden bricks, that stands proud and tall amongst Godville’s back alleyways. Nothing too fancy or schmancy, mind you, just a small little building. Amazingly, against all laws of probability and logic, Dunnch is actually over half-finished fulfilling his daunting burden. Granted, it’s really not that hard, and Ariman could bang out a temple in thirty seconds if he tried, and half of the bricks were created by applying divine intervention to Dunnch’s wallet, but even so, the achievement is mind-boggling for a hero as semi-intelligent as Dunnch. It is suspected that Dunnch has been taking hero-enhancement pills.
Dunnch kindly requests that, whatever one does, they do not attempt to steal the pile of golden bricks in the town square, which is easily recognizable due to the “Unguarded Gold Bricks” sign marking it. This pile constitutes Dunnch’s awe-inspiring and holy temple to Ariman, which is still something of a work in progress. Dunnch warns that he vaguely recalls placing some form of almost-deadly trap around the pile, requiring some kind of switch to disable it… some kind of dead man’s switch, or dizzy eye switch, or dead eye switch, or dizzy man’s switch. He’s somewhat fuzzy on the details and kind of forgets how to disarm it, and isn’t sure whether he actually placed it or not.
Ecstatic Fact: Dunnch is certified in a variety of endeavors, including hypocrisy, psychopathy, sociopathy, megalomania, ignorance, and egomania.
Now, Ariman, on the other hand… This guy’s amazing. He is awesomeness. He is God. Ariman is the patron deity of dunnch, which is the meal served betwixt lunch and dinner. His finest hero, Dunnch, has been named for this, and serves to uphold the lofty standards of this great and wonderful activity, a goal at which he has failed miserably. But that’s irrelevant right now.
Ariman is a fairly inactive god, believing in the “laissez-faire” (literally, “something French”) policy of godship. His skills in directing his hero in the arena and in skirmishes are not sub-par, as his record would lead you to believe – rather, he allows his opposition to win out of the little remaining kindness he has in his heart. I don’t know why he wastes it on that, either. Although the temple built in his favor is still mostly in the R and/or D phase, this is purely to ensure that the temple will be the greatest it can be upon completion. Besides, the wondrous and glorious Ariman is in no rush to have billions of devoted followers grovelling before him, whining at him to lower their taxes, or whatever they whine about whilst grovelling.
Ariman’s theme song, composed by Ariman, is sung to the tune of the “Spider-Man” theme song, with vastly the same lyrics. Slight differences include the name Ariman instead of “Spider-Man,” and all other lyrics to the song being mumbled incoherently.
Orgasm-inducing Fact: Dunnch’s favorite color is plaid.
Why, yes, it IS rather odd that Ariman continues to refer to himself in third person. It has been suggested that there may be something wrong with him, but this is implausible for various reasons, none of which can be detailed here. Nonetheless, research has been undertaken to disprove such a foolish hypothesis. Optimistic guesstimates suggest that it shall be completed by the year 2043.
Anywho, here are some obligatory excerpts from Dunnch’s diary.
10:23: Passed by a billboard with the engraving: ‘Trollbridge – now with blackjack and hookers!’
01:34: What a surprise! Dr Kenneth Noisewater stopped by to visit me. We talked over a few drinks of iodine solution.
05:37: Found out that toxic waste doesn’t give you superpowers.
02:19: I had to grovel at the merchant’s feet to buy this golden brick. That was a bit humiliating.
03:04: The Penultimate Samurai was gloriously torn to pieces! While rifling through its remains, I found a can of dehydrated water. It needs a good wash before I can sell it though.
10:04: Hm… I wonder, will I be resurrected wearing clothes or naked and why?
01:16: Behemoth idly observed some fleas building him a temple. You know, Great One, I’m not surprised.
04:06: A traveling wizard showed me a game that plays itself. My Lord, I’m glad you don’t waste time on things like that.
03:06: Right now I’m having amnesia and déjà vu at the same time. I think I’ve forgotten this before.
03:12: Wow, Los Demonos loves me so much they came to welcome me! They even brought pitchforks!
02:22: Behemoth, give that mega-bite back to me! Give it back now! Um… Okay, eat it up then, it’s already broken.
02:30: The Sunbathing Vampire sang its swan song and vanished. I looted its bag and found a pagan bible.
09:07: I think we should communicate in a secret language, Soul Supreme. It looks like some other hero has been copying my entries.
09:01: I sprayed my equipment with some saved “blood-in-a-jar” to make myself look more brutal.
09:23: Saw a poster that read: “Schrödinger’s Cat: wanted dead and alive.”
03:17: It’s hard to believe that Evil Twin could be THAT big…
10:32: A fireball flew through an open window and struck the trader’s purse. The surprised merchant suddenly became the owner of something gold and rectangular.
10:45: Spent some time debugging Godville by crushing insects with my boot.
10:48: An old sage told me that life is a cake. I just hope it’s not a lie.
11:04: Mighty One, is it just me or does every single hero I meet worship a different and false god?
11:07: The Hot Cross Bunny was eliminated. Found a chick magnet.
05:18: Erased a couple of obscene entries from my diary just in case the Great One was watching.
12:26: Um… is my neck supposed to bend this way?
05:39: Saw a pack of nomad fangirls. I made sure to keep my distance from them.
01:13: I diligently rubbed myself against the Santa Claws bag until it completely disappeared, making me perfectly healthy. Neat.
05:35: The Whatchamacallit was killed. Got a thingamajig and 11 gold coins.
08:07: Death asked me if I could show the newbies around since I know the place so well.
11:32: Checked my Mallet of understanding to see if it was working correctly. Spent the next half hour bandaging my head.
11:08: Skillfully dodged an attack from the Satan Claus by bending over to tie my shoe.
02:44: Standing at the rim of a deep well, I felt an insidious urge to kick someone into it. Madness.
03:00: Wow, déjà vu! Must be a glitch in the system.