Will, completely oblivious to the danger, nodded. "Yeah, donkey... you know. Boss, let me tell you, this jackass was the most potent one back in my village. All the foals there are his offspring. He could handle at least two jennies at a time! If you drink this soup, I guarantee you'll have three kids in three years!"
"Kids my ass!"
The Mad Lord had heard enough and landed a vicious kick. 'How dare he question my abilities?'
'This damn brat must have a death wish!'
Will went sprawling, eating dirt from the kick. He rubbed his butt, aggrieved. "Boss, can't we just face reality? I'm already in touch with an old traditional doctor. With some proper conditioning, you'll definitely get your mojo back. And I'll have my wife, Sarah, make you some pizzle soup every now and then. Even if you can't have three kids in three years, two should be no problem..."
