//------------------------------//
// Adventure 8: Potions and Alcohol 
// Story: Team Friendship 2 
// by W9001PILLSHERE 
//------------------------------//

After stumbling upon the local bar, meeting the bartender, and drinking himself into a stupor, Demoman was walking, or more so, stumbling and bumbling, crashing into everything and everypony, he found himself in the clearing of the Everfree forest. Then he stopped. He raised his nose and started sniffing. He knew that smell, but this was something new altogether.
Demoman:Alcohol... No, explosives... No, Alcoholic explosives? This I gotta see, if I wasn't so drunk, and my vision wasn't so blurry.
He started stumbling through the opening deeper into the forest. The scent kept getting stronger. He kept going faster.
Demoman: Booze... I need BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOZE!
He saw a small hut, which he was positive the smell was coming from. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Unfortunately for him, he had a bit of a bad reaction to the different alcohol in the bar from scrumpy. He fell to the ground and passed out right in front of the hut. The hut's sole inhabitant had heard the commotion outside and had come to investigate.
Zecora: What is it out here that stirs? My, it's one of those human creatures.
Using all of her might, the zebra managed to pull Demoman into her hut. She began brewing a potion, throwing this and that into her cauldron.
Zecora: This soupy soup will revive you. It tastes like Ma's stew.
After throwing everything into the cauldron she stirred it until it turned into a rainbow colored creation that smelled like underwear, but the good kind, the kind that just came out if the dryer. After pouring a bowl, Zecora placed it next to the unconscious black Scottish cyclops. As if struck by lightning, Demoman jumped to his feet.
Demoman: I didn't touch it! Where am I?
Zecora: My name is Zecora, this, my hut. I found you, all bruised and cut.
Demoman: Yah, thanks. What's with the soup? And what smelled like alcohol?
Zecora: That was a new mix of mine, smells of one's true valentine.
Demoman: How? That don't make any sense, but you're a magic zebra, so I'm just gonna go along with it.
The conversation was quickly interrupted when a loud, booming roar was heard from outside.
Zecora: Oh no! A Shieldmoar! To defeat it, you must wield more. Defeat this mighty beast you must do, but explosions don't work so get a clue.
Demoman: No explosives, huh? Well, this looks like a job for...
Demoman quickly ran into the back room of the hut. A new figure emerged that looked like Demoman, but was different.
Demopan: Demopan! Deliverin' justice with mah fryin' pan, one smash at a time!
Zecora:This human is quite strange. Even possibly deranged.
Demopan bust out of the hut into a fury of unimaginable power. He saw the Shieldmoar. It was a massive creature with a shiny silver shell, and a dark red underbelly. The creature screeched with a massive roar, filling Zecora with terror. Demopan was unfazed, however.
Demopan: Stout Shako for two refined?
The Shieldmoar roared again, making Zecora's mane stand on end. Still, Demopan was unshaken. With a roar equally as terrifying as the Shieldmoar, Demopan began a small, slowly getting more powerful, charge. His Chargin' Targe shield started glowing, his Dangeresque, Too? glasses shined with what little sunlight came into the forest, his bounty hat sparkling off of the sun reflection as well, his frying pan blacker than space itself. He started running with the force of a train backing him up. He was getting close to the creature. He smashed the creature's underbelly simultaneously with his pan and shield. It exploded with a red liquid, not quite blood, more like red water, spurting everywhere. Demopan stood heroically above his prize, looking down at Zecora, who was still completely unsure as to what had just happened.
Demopan: Glad I'm on your side, huh?
Zecora: Yes, an ally in you I like, an end to a nervous psych.