So if you can't tell, the weather in my stories is either not relevant to the plot, just there for pathetic fallacy, or whatever the current weather is in Britain, but actually not laughably puny.

Guess who's partially responsible! That's right! It's wickitywackity! Again!

Now onto the chapter!

Biffa groaned at the heat. For goodness' sake, Hermitville was supposed to be in a cold biome! The heat was, although he hated to admit it, seriously messing him up. His prosthetics really weren't coping well at all.

He struggled over to the foundations of Wels' mansion, with the intent of helping out the knight. But climbing the hill was too much, and he lay down halfway up, sweat pouring down his face. He lay there for a while, staring at the sky and contemplating existence. Eventually he began to feel drowsy, and plunged headfirst into unconsciousness.

Okay, but how do I turn the radiators off? I'm melting in here. Time Skip, I suppose.

"Biffa?"

Wels poked Biffa in the robotic arm, wincing as the hot metal burned the tip of his finger. Biffa's eyes slowly flicked half-open, and he looked at Wels with an unfocused stare.

"Biffa, are you alright?"

"Well what does it look like?" Biffa snarked in reply, his demeanour not at all changed by the situation.

"Sorry. Can you stand?"

Biffa tried to push himself up, but fell back down. He tried again, only barely getting further. The third time around, he rested his hand on Wels' shoulder for support. Wels felt as if his shoulder were on fire, but he endured it for Biffa. And then the dizziness hit.

Biffa's ears rang, his eyes felt as if a thousand fire ants were biting at the back of his eyes, the entire world was spinning, dissolving into neon pink static. Wels helped guide Biffa to some shade, and the two braced themselves against the wall of Welsknight Manor.

"Some heatwave, huh?"

"Well, at least Scar won't have to deal with snow, right?"

"Heh. Yeah. This sort of heatwave is probably a bad thing, right?"

"Probably."

The two continued their aimless conversation for minutes on end, until both their eyelids got heavy. Biffa was the first to drift off, being British and therefore not used to real heatwaves. Wels looked at his friend, eyelids heavy. He bid his friend goodnight, and drifted off.

Kid!Odal wanders in. She gives you a note, and waddles off.

It reads 'Time Skip'

"Are they okay?"

"I don't think so..."

Biffa woke up a second time, his eyelids even heavier. Wels lay asleep beside him, breathing almost inaudibly.

"Morning Doc. Morning Python." He mumbled drearily, before passing out again.

The two cold-blooded hermits carried Biffa and Wels to the icy room they had constructed, full of other hermits who were suffering from the heatwave. Every Hermit now had either been rescued, or replied to say they were okay...

Except for Evil X.

To be continued whenever I'm not feeling bleh from making fun of British weather.

Okay, wickitywackity, I owe you a request. Chuck one at me!

OdalRune, signing off from the past!