Mathemagic
an excerpt

Mathemagic
Prologue
Imagine – the code poet of Junio’s elite first battalion dying with a calculator wedged uselessly　in his crotch. Oh, this will hit the annals of pure stupidity all right – in a joke book. Baryl tried to input the commands for a simple spell, his hand groping around his nether regions while attempting to remain inconspicuous amongst the merchants. The ambush had occurred too fast, and Baryl had only time to stuff his calculator into a most private location under the cover of his cloak when the bandits tore into the caravan. At least they didn’t find out that my identity.
Hence his current impediment, from which Baryl was struggling to overcome though the skillful manipulation of his appendages. There would be no mercy, and once the bandits had chosen who to retain for ransom, the rest of the group would be swiftly killed. Baryl silently cursed himself – half for being overly lazy to practice touch-typing and half for his negligence.
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There was a desperate scream as a child was torn from her parent’s arms. The outlaw who was restraining her father took offence and ripped his sword across the poor man’s throat. His blood marked the blade crimson and both the parent and the child widened their eyes in mutual shock, her scream suddenly dying down as they both tried to numb themselves with disbelief. Then, the bandit shoved her father to the ground and ran his sword though the prostrate form, breaking the momentary emotional stasis. Baryl could feel the heightened tension; even the merchants knew a critical balance had been toppled with spilled blood.
using smallspell std;
Like a vulture sensing the presence of another dangerous predator, the bandit swung his head around to meet Baryl’s stare. Shit.
“I don’t want to die a virgin,” Baryl squeaked in a falsely falsetto voice, the context perverse enough to make the bandit gape dumbly at him. Abandoning all pretenses of modesty, Baryl furiously simulated his fingers, evoking an obscene tumult of movement blatantly discernable though the stretched fabric of his trousers.
The bandit hardened his eyes as if he realized an important fact. “You can’t have sex without a woman,” he stated with religious authority.
data type fire;
Baryl stopped his masturbatory motions. “Yeah, well you are right. Here’s your prize.” He pulled the calculator out of his trousers in a quick flourish.
>>fire();
Later on, a version of the mathemagician’s attack where he shot fireballs from his crotch would become the most popular version on the grapevine. However ridiculous it was, Baryl’s cover was effectively blown. He disappeared in the next town the caravan stopped at, leaving behind only impressions of crazed man with reflections of fire dancing on his mousey brown hair.