http://www.worstmayorsever.com/?p=110Elected Command: Face punch.
“So, do we have a deal little man?” BaraBara darkly inquires.
The chamber falls silent.
The Man’s thick brows furrow, “You’re wearing my hat.”
“Your hat? Ha!” the grizzly playfully laughs. “This top hat has been passed down from one demon dynasty to another, over countless millennia. It has seen constant strife, perched atop only the most dastardly of us demon lords. When Slug Lord GonkaGonka fell during the battle of Salty Falls, I rightfully looted his deflated corpse for just such a treasure. It has been said to be imbued with dark powers, but I confess to never figuring ou-.“ BaraBara stops himself.
Unbeknownst to the distracted demon lord, The Man has reared his right fist back.
BaraBara is only able to elicit a small whimper before The Man’s tightened fist cuts through the stale chamber air with such a ferocity that sparks of lightening crackle from his knuckles. Landing directly into BaraBara’s mouth, the demon lord’s back jawline shatters as the fist dives further in, finally stopping as the spinal column cracks wide open.
The clatter of the grizzly skeleton’s boney frame falling to the ground echoes off the chamber walls. Only his disconnected skull remains, balancing upon The Man’s still outreached arm. The flames formed within his eye sockets have bulged out, both from force and disbelief.
“I-impossible!” BaraBara at last manages to spittle out. “No man could break the blackened bones of a demon! We are forged from the ancient powers of rock music!”
With his left hand, the man gracefully clutches the brim of the demon lord’s top hat. In a single fluid motion, he flips the hat from off the grizzly skull, lands it upon his own head, and tilts the brim slightly downward.
“Such classiness! I must know!” BaraBara exclaims, before sinking his frontal fangs into The Man’s arm. “Of course! Your bloodline tells tales that of which your very soul couldn’t. Such power! Such classy power!”
“Where are they?” asks The Man, face still made of stone.
“Those who wronged you? Those who tossed your tattered body into this lost tomb?” BaraBara voice cracks.
“The same.” says The Man.
“For such knowledge, you must swear to spare me! Swear, or I’ll curse your arm to damnation!” BaraBara demands.
The Man furrows his thick brows even further.
Commands: 1. Form pact.
2. Spare.
3. Smash.
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