Free Critical Failures III (Caverns and Creatures Book 3) by Robert Bevan Page A

scanning the freaky profile photos one last time. “It was a good idea. You’d think Facebook would be the perfect place for someone as lonely and lacking in social – Hold on a second…”
    “Did you find him?”
    “I don’t know. This one guy has his location set as Biloxi, Mississippi, but there’s no way that’s…” He touched the picture to enlarge it. The face in the picture was younger than Mordred’s, and clean shaven, with only the hint of a receding hairline. Closer inspection of the picture led Tim to notice some finer details in the background. The sofa he was sitting on. The paisley shirt he was wearing. They don’t even make shit like that anymore. “That son of a bitch. This picture’s got to be at least twenty years old. But that’s him all right.”
    Tim scrolled down Mordred’s timeline. Mordred wasn’t a very frequent poster, and most of the stuff he did post was just fantasy memes and other bullshit. Nothing Tim could use. He clicked on Mordred’s ‘likes’, and found pretty much what he expected to find. Facebook pages for Caverns and Creatures, Larry Lilacs, Sorcerers on the Shore, and other fantasy-related pages. Nothing of use here either, except… Tim spotted a name he recognized, a local name. Jack’s Comics. He clicked on it.
    The first thing that caught Tim’s eye was Mordred’s name as the latest entry in the ‘Recent posts by others’ field. Tim clicked on the post.
     
    For those seeking adventure beyond your wildest imaginations!
    Join me in a quest unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. No previous role playing experience required. You can learn as you go. Serious inquiries only, please. Contact me by private message for a place and time.
     
    “That crazy fucker is already at it again!” said Tim.
    “What?” said Stacy.
    “He’s trying to lure more people into his fantasy world. This message wasn’t posted more than ten minutes ago.”
    “Uh oh.”
    “We’ve got to get to that shop. I bet that’s where we’ll find him.”
    “What makes you think that?”
    “He’s got to restock his books and dice. He left all his shit at my place when he bolted. Here, watch the van. They’ll be turning soon.”
    Stacy followed the van into the Rouse’s parking lot. The supermarket had opened, and there was noticeably more cars and people buzzing about, but Tim’s car was still far enough in the back of the lot that they should be able to park the van near it, open the rear doors, and talk without anyone seeing inside.
    Tim hopped out of Stacy’s car and met Randy and Julian behind the van. “Open the doors,” he said. “Not too wide.”
    Randy opened the doors. “Sweet baby Jesus!”
    Even through his orange peel nose plugs, Cooper’s stench hit Tim like a rhinoceros farting point blank in his face. His eyes already stung from sleep deprivation. This felt like daggers being shoved into them. He took a moment to stave off the nausea and looked inside the van. Four faces looked down at him from their yogurt cups.
    "What happened to your face?" asked Dave.
    "I got hit by a car," said Tim, raising his hand up to Dave. "Can you give me a level zero heal to so I can take these fucking orange peels out of my nose?"
    Dave touched Tim's finger. "Heal."
    The pain dulled immediately, and Tim blew the bloody wads of orange peel out of his nose and onto the street. "I'm sorry. That was disgust -- Jesus!" He didn't think it could be possible, but the smell from the van was even worse now that his sinuses were clear.
    "What's wrong?" asked Dave. He licked the inside of his yogurt cup.
    “Ugh,” said Tim. “How can you even eat that in there?”
    “It’s the most magnificent thing to ever have graced my palate!” said Professor Goosewaddle. His beard was thick and pink around his mouth. Four empty yogurt cups lay beside him on the floor of the van. “Where might we procure more of this?”
    “We’re in the Rouse’s parking lot,” said Dave.
    “Uh-uh,”