Micrograffiti: Paint My Van by Peter Kline22/12/2010
I first met Knute on the barbarian circuit. I was strictly short-order then, half hustler really, hitting up cherrypop tweens and their thyroid boyfriends from a kiosk at the Silver Dollar Faire. Portraits, t-shirts, midriffs – we put the airbrush wherever they’d let us, and the swords were always long, and the scalemail bustiers were always booming. Shit pay, but free paint, no police. Plus the occasional debutante sneaking in for our “prom-night surprise”: a phalanx of glabrous red demons descends upon the brimming honeypot!
Knute hit bigtime, a one-man show at the Main Gate, where they usually sold life-size sparkleponies. Dragonlady-retro, Castle-of-Grayskull meets porno: badass, and on real canvas. You could see every white whisker of the Lizard Lord’s Fu Manchu. Our numbers soared; the Lariat Post ran a page-three feature; there were whispers of an overture from Parade. Hot girls started applying at the Hut when it got around that Knute dropped by sometimes, hanging back in his signature blacks. He introduced himself, but it never went further than that. It was the work. Declan and Smitty hated him for a bourgeois stooge and an art-school poseur. I would have pawned a nut just to rag off his nozzle.
Peter Kline, a level 14 half-elf mage wearing boots of speed and wielding a staff of striking, is looking for a new campaign.