LogFAQs > #905785253

D) Steal a yacht from the marina.

"I need you to go down the mairna and acquire a yacht for me," the necromancer demands.
"A yacht? I don't have any money to buy a yacht," you tell him.
He chuckles. "I guess you're going to have to steal one then."
"I've never stolen anything before," you admit. "Well, successfully at least. Once in sixth grade, I got two pieces of pizza at lunch, but I put the bigger slice on top of the smaller slice to make it look like I only had one. The cashier noticed immediately and made me put the big slice back. So embarrassing."
"Well don't try stacking one yacht on top of another and you should be fine."
You brush some dirt off your suit pants. "I couldn't even commit pizza crime. Nautical crime is a lot harder. Why do you even need the yacht anyways?"
"Don't worry about it," he scowls as he lowers a ladder into the grave. "Besides, once you get the yacht I'll send you back to heaven."
"Okie dokie," you say as you ascend from the grave. Now standing next to the necromancer, he's a lot shorter than he looks from below. Even after you've shriveled a bit, he only comes up to your shoulder, though his face is still hidden by the robes.
In a voice like a little songbird, he instructs, "Now, once you obtain the-"
"Wow! You're voice sounded a lot lower when I was well... lower," you tell him. Wait a minute... You point behind him and gasp, "Someone's coming!"
The boy shrieks and turns around as you quickly pull down the hood of his robes. Your bespectacled master has red hair, freckles, and a pimple in the crease of his nose. He sharply turns back around and whips his hood back on. "YOU DO NOT TOUCH YOUR MASTER!"
He tried to sound intimidating, but his voice cracked badly in the middle of his wail. "My master? What are you like twelve?"
"I'm thirteen!" he protests.
"That's... that's actually worse I think. You're a child."
"Look, I'm mature for my age. I have a GameFAQs account," he brags.
"That site stunts your emotional development by at least three years. Now you're ten," you inform him.
"Ugh!" the necromancer growls in frustration. "You are my s-"
"You are ten years old. What does a ten year old need with a yacht?" you ask.
"I'm not telling you!" he shouts. "And stop saying I'm ten."
"You have lite-up Sketchers on!"
"So what?"
"So nothing. That part was a compliment, I actually really like those," you say excitedly.
The necromancer seems wary to accept your compliment. "Are you-"
"Do you even know how to sail a yacht?" you butt in. "You're not even allowed to drive a car."
"Why don't you let me worry about all that?" he advises. "I have a plan, okay?"
"Fine. Can I know the plan?" you ask.
"Well the current step is to obtain a yacht and the next step is to send my servant back to heaven," he informs you. "But I suppose we could always change the next step."

You put your hands on your hips and think for a moment. "Alright. But if we're gonna do this, can I at least know your name? Calling you Master was weird when I thought you were an adult, but it's shifted into very creepy now that I know your real age."
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.