Bodhi had a feeling that the squid and the shark spirit thought that they were setting them up. 

Bodhi tried to convince them otherwise, but the spirits weren’t buying it. So after the monkey left for the second time, the gambling spirits escorted the monk to a more private booth and proceeded to violently rob them of their Luck.

Bodhi let the spirits beat the shit out of them. The attackers didn’t stop until Bodhi puked the stolen alcohol. The spirits tried to take away the monk’s gourd, but instead, poured its contents over their head once it became clear that it was just a sloppy concoction of drinks.

The shark and the squid dumped Bodhi outside in the bay. The rocks felt sharp, but cool against their face. They could have ruined those two spirits. It would have been easy.

But then I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this.

The monk went from the inside of a dumpster to the edge of this landmass giant, still drunk, still unsatisfied. They had experienced a brief moment of pleasure, watching that sun clone wreak havoc on those trolls. And it was sweet how he had come back for the pig. 

Sweet, but bizarre.

The monk would have never gone back for anything or anyone, they were sure of that. As they drifted into painful, blissful sleep, they wondered, If the monkey had seen those spirits going in like that on a poor monk, would he have come back to help me?

They imagined it and how sweet it would be if it were so.

The rocks were slick, threatening to let Bodhi slide into the liquid abyss. The sea of Ninth Heaven was no place for humanae. 

Their body was not fastened well to the rocks. They slid closer and closer to wet oblivion.

But they were too drunk to really care.