Buying a Dungeon

Do you know how much a dungeon costs in Melbourne? It’s very expensive, and nobody takes Shield Coast platinum pieces here! That’s what ninety per cent of my wealth is in. And none of the local currency conversion businesses will do the exchange. I’ve had to get Earth money, and it wasn’t easy. No, I didn’t rob a bank or sell knock-off jeans at a premium price. Sure, I’ve been responsible for thousands of lives suddenly ending across the cosmos, thanks to the traps in my many dungeons, but I’m not some petty criminal here. I earned that money the real way: by using my magic to turn trees into solid gold, melting them down into ingots and selling them. Finally, I can set up my Earth dungeon.

It wasn’t without its hoops to jump through. Kind of like the flaming hoops people will have to pass to enter the dungeon. They definitely don’t have a thing like a section 32 vendor statement anywhere else in the universe. Earthlings are so weird. I’ll tell you what I like about them, though. SunBucks. I love SunBucks coffee in the mornings. Even though I’ve been technically dead for ten thousand years, it still makes me feel something.

I’ve been trying to set up a dungeon here ever since I chose Big Ben as the location for my latest phylactery. I’ve got a group set up there that think they’re guarding the box that controls the invisible web the humans worship and use to communicate. I don’t understand it. I just manipulate people to my needs. Since then, I’ve been seeking the right property conveyancing from Melbourne to help me purchase the land with my Earth money. I asked if they’ll accept Earth money, and it turns out it’s actually called dollars. So I gave them all my dollars from selling golden trees, and now I’m going to be the proud owner of a dungeon. I’ll start spreading rumours of cat videos and avocados inside it soon. That will lure plenty of people, from what I can tell.