“Harm us? Whoop!” A goat named Zane stood tall. “We are warriors who have taken down much mightier creatures than your king!”

Roscoe mustered more courage. “Please…I didn’t mean to offend you earlier. If I am your relative, would you let us be on our way?”

The leader, Zebulon, stomped the ground and the herd followed suit.

Oh, no. We’re definitely goners! Benjamin thought.

Zebulon puffed out his giant gray chest. “If you are indeed one of our family, I will allow you and your friends to go.”

Roscoe felt relieved. “Oh! Thank you very much!”

“Whoop! The only way you can prove your kinship…” The goats quietly whooped in excitement. “…is to joust.”

“J-j-joust?”

“Joust?” Paco asked Benjamin. “What does that mean?”

“It’s when two people ride toward each other with javelins–”

“Horns!” a wild goat spit. “We charge with our horns, foolish human! Whoop!”

“And who…who does this, sir?” Roscoe innocently asked Zebulon.

The great goat snorted. “You.”

Roscoe felt light headed. “Oh, so I’ll be jousting with a little kid–”

“With me.”

“And if Roscoe wins, you let us go free?” Clementine asked.

“Correct, filthy pig.”

Clementine mumbled “Smelly goat” into the dirt, then looked up. “What happens if he loses?”

“The three of you will become our slaves.”

Roscoe barely managed to say, “W-what about me, sir?”

The giant goat snorted. “Don’t worry, tiny cousin. You will not remember anything afterward. Whoop!” Roscoe’s legs shook uncontrollably. “I will give you a moment to say goodbye to your friends and, ahem, king. But I warn you–do not try to escape. None of you! It is pointless.” Zebulon turned and joined the herd as they gathered around their great leader. Several wild goats kept watch on the four.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Roscoe said, his voice shaking. “Once my head hits his that’ll be it for me…end of story.”

“King Benjamin,” Clementine asked, “can you use fire weapons on these goats?”

“I-I’m sorry, Clementine, but nothing I have would get rid of all of them. It’d make them even angrier. I’m so sorry, Roscoe.”

“It’s alright, My King. It’s an honor to die–”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Clementine fumed.

“It’s an honor to fight for the kingdom.” Roscoe breathed heavily.

Paco looked sad. “Do your best, Roscoe. King Pugsly would be proud of you.”

Benjamin’s cell phone rang. They jumped in fright and some of the wild goats whooped. He reached in his pocket and pressed the silent button. “This is a phone–oh, never mind. Hello? Uh, hi, Dad. How’s it going?”

“His father is a phone?” Clementine quietly asked the others.

“No, Dad. I’m finding stuff to eat. I guess Mom told you about Aunt Louise?”

The herd broke apart and formed two lines facing each other. They chanted as if counting down to the start of the joust.