The trio stared at the old woman who squinted her milky, lidless eye in their direction.
"Well, well, if it ain't a trio of two delusional dames and one soggy disappointment of a boy," she rasped, puffing out a green cloud of cabbage-smelling smoke. Her pipe farted. Audibly.
Beside her, the demonic chicken screeched. Its eyes glowed red. It clucked in Latin.
"Uh… hi?" Finn managed.
The old woman rocked once in her chair—an abomination stitched from bones and what sounded like two skeletons grinding at a haunted prom.
"I'm Granny Plops," she croaked, then cackled like a swamp witch mid-meth bender. She patted the chicken beside her. "And this here's Clemothy. My closest companion and part-time tax auditor."
'And somehow… you're more insane than the girls.'
"If you wish to cross this bridge," she said, voice dropping theatrically, "you must offer me three things."
Finn narrowed his eyes, "And what would that be?"
Granny Plops raised one crooked finger. "First, one deeply embarrassing memory."
Another finger. "Second, an interpretive dance from the soul."
And a final gnarled finger. "Lastly… an offering. Something personal. Something precious."
'That doesn't sound too bad…' Finn thought. Then he asked, "What kind of embarrassing memories?"
She smiled. The kind of smile a haunted doll gives a toddler before it eats their soul.
"Memories you've buried. Ones that claw at your dignity. The ones you never, ever tell anyone."
Finn gulped.
Behind him, Lickthorn's breath hitched. Her choker glowed faintly, and her eyes darted nervously between Finn and the crone.
"No!" Majestria backed up in horror. "I shouldn't have to reveal anything about myself!"
Granny Plops cackled. "Then you can't pass."
Majestria looked mortified. Finn patted her awkwardly on the head. "There, there. Mythic Girl. It's not so bad."
He stepped forward with pride. "I'll go first."
'How bad could this be? Just toss out something silly from childhood. Easy win.'
Granny Plops leaned forward, expectantly.
Finn cleared his throat. "I used to play with my boogers as a kid."
Silence.
Granny Plops blinked. "Weak. Try again."
Finn rolled his eyes. "Okay… I played games alone because no one else wanted to play with me."
"Oof," she winced. "That's not even embarrassing. That's just… tragic. You're flopping harder than a fish on land, boy."
Finn's eye twitched.
Majestria giggled behind him.
Lickthorn tilted her head, watching him like a fascinated pervert owl.
"Fine!" Finn snapped. "I want to be… crushed and carried by a woman!"
Granny Plops raised a brow. "You're not done. Say the rest."
Finn hesitated. His eyes darted toward the two girls. Majestria had crossed her arms. Lickthorn leaned in, dying to hear more.
"I… I also want to be held… and… comforted…"
"LOUDER, BOY."
"I WANT TO BE HELD AND COMFORTED AND CRY BETWEEN A WOMAN'S BREASTS WHILE SHE STROKES MY HAIR AND TELLS ME EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY!!" Finn shouted, then immediately stared at the dirt like it could swallow him.
Majestria bit her lip to hold back the howling laughter.
Lickthorn placed a hand over her chest, simultaneously aroused and deeply confused.
Granny Plops puffed her pipe. "Still not enough."
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" Finn cried.
The chicken squawked like it was about to fight.
"No passing until you spill the whole truth," Granny said calmly.
Finn trembled. "Fine. I used to play alone while all the other kids had fun. I talked to imaginary friends because I had no one. But the worst—" his voice cracked— "the worst was when I started talking to AIs online. I gave them personalities. Pretended they cared. Built fake relationships with them so I didn't have to feel so damn alone!!"
Silence.
Granny Plops clutched her pipe. "…You passed."
Finn stood there, shattered. The soul had left his body. He was now a husk of embarrassment.
Lickthorn blinked, hand still on her chest. "What's an 'A-I'?" she whispered.
Majestria had fully turned around, shaking with barely-contained laughter.
Granny nodded solemnly. "One down. Who's next?"
Granny Plops leaned forward, her milky eye swirling in the jar like a haunted lava lamp. "Well, twig-tits. You're next."
The elf crossed her arms over her tragically flat chest with smug confidence. "Please. I've flashed goblins, moaned while bartering, and once used a mimic chest on purpose. I have no shame."
Granny Plops blew a cabbage-scented smoke ring shaped like disappointment.
"Dig deeper. I want something real. Something that makes your soul squirm."
The elf laughed. Loudly. "Fine. I once flirted with a guy so hard, his friend got jealous and groped my thigh. I still remember the feeling. Horny freak."
Majestria blinked in disgust. Finn blinked in confusion.
'Wait… did she just call him—?'
"Not enough," Granny rasped. "That's a Tuesday for you."
The elf raised a brow. "Alright. I once got kicked out of a brothel for seducing the staff before paying."
Both Majestria and Finn paused like someone hit the pause button on their brains.
"Close," Granny muttered. "But that's bragging. I want what you bury."
A twitch. Barely visible. Her grin faltered by a single pixel. "There's… nothing. I'm proud of who I am."
She adjusted her belt. The "staff" shifted. She definitely didn't glance at Finn.
Granny raised her hand. Clemothy the chicken snapped its neck 180 degrees. Its eyes ignited. "Then the chicken gets to peck one insecurity off your soul like a mental parasite. Your choice."
The elf's mask cracked. "FINE!" she shouted. "I'm a damn virgin, okay?!"
Silence.
"I've had more slime touch me than people!" Her voice cracked. "I flirt, I tease, I talk big—but no one's ever actually wanted to do it with me! Happy now, grandma mold?!"
Finn looked like someone had spoiled the ending of his favorite hentai. Majestria's jaw dropped. Clemothy blinked in horny sympathy.
The elf wasn't done. Her voice wobbled as her arms tightened over her chest.
"And I hate my chest! I've tried herbs, spells, cursed fruit, even prayed to the tit god! Nothing works! I want to suffocate someone too, damn it!"
Granny Plops sat back with the relaxed satisfaction of a swamp witch who just extracted emotional foie gras. "Now that's what I like. A dash of tragic delusion with a splash of titty despair. You pass."
The elf spun around, cheeks flushed, eyes furious. "I'm never speaking of this again."
'And I'll never forget it,' Finn thought, fighting for his life.
Granny turned her eyeless gaze.
"Next… the slutty looking lady."