"The stat window is just a one-time sight for you as We are not Gods to be knowing exact stats for every personality that achieves Goontosis!" Stella extinguished the small flame of excitement that had begun to ignite within Curtis.
"Have you done this role as a guide with other indulgers? Or just me?" Curtis set forth the question scraping his head.
"I have seen many, as any faculty personnel is allowed to observe but you can only be the guide for one. I'm solely yours." Stella quickly replied.
"Solely mine...." Curtis thought with a small upward curl on the ends of his lips before focusing on the stat window that he could only see for a limited time.
Curtis examined the stat window for a while before speaking, " Uh, shouldn't there be an intelligence stat here to like games do?"
No response came from Stella for a long time until she finally spoke, "No intelligence is fixed from birth, but on another note dude. How! Fucking! Horny! Were! You!"
"Damn boy! I clearly had failed to properly ingest the numbers beforehand but..." Stella slowly quieted down, "...wait, I clearly..."
"FAWWKK MEE BOY! People usually start off with base fifty stats for everything and with three years on Erth, even the best can at most get to two-hundred for one stat. Your bitchass has from three-hundred-and-two until nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine from just your time here on Goonth!
"What the fuck!" Stella was astounded by Curtis' stats.
Stella's comments did somewhat hurt Curtis, but even he was dumbfounded by what she had just relayed to him. He knew that he had indulged a lot in his self-pleasure ever since a new use of his hands had been discovered by himself, but for it to be at this extent did bring Curtis down a bit. It took him anywhere from thirty minutes to two whole hours for an average session, during which anything other activity could surely be completed. All that time, all that precious time Curtis had wasted on self-indulgement was now weighing down heavy on him.
Even the stranger who probably had seen many self-indulgers before Curtis was astonished at the stats stemming from Curtis. He felt a new surge of disappointment overcoming his sense of self. This was not the first time such had happened so Curtis tried his best to avoid thinking a lot about it and tried easing the atmosphere through a small talk.
"Uh, I was homeschooled from the age of fourteen and I also studied a lot, so I was pent up from the stress..." Curtis awkwardly scratched his head as he tried to ease Stella's surprised state.
"Still Curtis, damn man!" Stella's astonishment had not ended yet.
"Vitality at 999, you could have powered a whole city just by jerking the grid."
Curtis' face became expressionless.
"Oh, my bad, you were too busy jerking something else! AHAHAHAH..." Stella cackled like a witch as poor Curtis stood in place.
Stella had found her own joke very amusing as she kept going back and forth laughing and restating her joke for ten minutes before calming down.
"Ahem, I tend to forget how hilarious I am at times and end up amused," Stella praised herself, "Nonetheless, your stats will be of utmost help in Erth."
"Strength, Agility and Perception correspond to your physical capabilities such as speed, reflexes and senses."
"Vitality corresponds with your stamina and recovery; with yours at 999, you virtually have infinite stamina along with instantaneous regeneration; beat it until it rips I guess!"
Curtis still had yet to react to Stella's remarks when a thought came up, not a thought that was his, it felt like it was forced into his thinking space and made a priority so it would come up quickly.
'Wish to transport to intended world?'
Curtis had seen a lot today, he was not surprised if someone could share their thoughts with him.
Yes, please do. Curtis responded to the thought with his own thought, as Stella started to speak, yet again.
"Your poor pe-"
Soft blue light slowly gathered around Curtis, enveloping him and suddenly exploded into a bright red colour.
Curtis' figure disappeared.
"-nis."
***
In the middle of an ocean so blue it could have been painted, on a small island so green it could have been painted, next to a small hut so atrociously built it could not have been painted was a woman. With her luscious black hair tied in a ponytail it softly waved against the grass. Why?
Her head was resting on the edge of the chair she was sitting on with a fashion magazine covering her face. Long red earrings hanging from her ears, waving along with the wind and her hair. Her upper body rose and fell in a constant rhythm. With an Aloha shirt splattered with pineapples and loose shorts, she had her well-toned muscular arms crossed and her flawlessly sculpted right leg over her flawlessly sculpted left leg. At first glance there is no femininity to her, but it's best not to assume anything as I am telling you that she is a woman.
Though truly there is no reason to be fully locked onto the option that this person IS a woma- Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself now. Sorry there Charles, went a bit off-track. Let me get back to narrating.
Amongst the peaceful green grass, blue light suddenly swirled violently before detonating in a burst of crimson, scattering leaves; covering an extraordinary amount of space and disturbing the island's lazy tranquility. And there, blinking against the sudden sunlight, disheveled and very much out of place -
Dear Curtis McLaren.