i glared across the smoke-layered battlefield.
hatboy stared right back at me through a haze of blood, sweat and pizza fumes.
his rat ogres shifted uneasily as my black coach of ratty death and rodent doom creaked from its lair behind my giant castle of much lahmia-owny.
his rats eyed each other, long teeth twitching nervously in the sudden quiet as my lahmian queen of the vampires (tentatively named cindy), took a step back and cackled at the moon.
that’s about when the craven crew turned tail and ran screaming from the battlefield, heartily pursued by a bloodthirsty regiment of skeletons who rattled their hideous banner at the retreating rodents.
the banner, like most of my army, was green, and had a smoothie painted on it. the smoothie was red.
red is evil, you know.
as the skellie warriors and the screaming black coach taunted their frightened foes with spiky spears of skin-stabby, i decided then was the time for my battlecry to soar through the undead night, lifting the black heart of cindy to do fast and furious bad things to hatboy’s scattering army of much hasty-flee-makey.
“ah-ha! now you will die at the icy fingers of the army of blood-smoothie!” i pointed at his sour expression. “your blood will make good smoothie. we will drink now.”
i made slurpy noises for effect.
cindy looked interested in this blood smoothie business, but then what vampire wouldn’t be?
hatboy groaned, leaning forward to attempt a miracle. he knew this was his last chance to recall his troops and perhaps save some face in front of ninjagirl, who stood above us, carefully quoting from japanese texts to provide us with the appropriate war-type atmosphere.
i grinned at my super-sidekick as he retrieved the dice from our battlefield. “you’re dicing with death now, ratboy.”
“don’t you ever get tired of saying that?”
i slurped in his general direction.
hatboy stared right back at me through a haze of blood, sweat and pizza fumes.
his rat ogres shifted uneasily as my black coach of ratty death and rodent doom creaked from its lair behind my giant castle of much lahmia-owny.
his rats eyed each other, long teeth twitching nervously in the sudden quiet as my lahmian queen of the vampires (tentatively named cindy), took a step back and cackled at the moon.
that’s about when the craven crew turned tail and ran screaming from the battlefield, heartily pursued by a bloodthirsty regiment of skeletons who rattled their hideous banner at the retreating rodents.
the banner, like most of my army, was green, and had a smoothie painted on it. the smoothie was red.
red is evil, you know.
as the skellie warriors and the screaming black coach taunted their frightened foes with spiky spears of skin-stabby, i decided then was the time for my battlecry to soar through the undead night, lifting the black heart of cindy to do fast and furious bad things to hatboy’s scattering army of much hasty-flee-makey.
“ah-ha! now you will die at the icy fingers of the army of blood-smoothie!” i pointed at his sour expression. “your blood will make good smoothie. we will drink now.”
i made slurpy noises for effect.
cindy looked interested in this blood smoothie business, but then what vampire wouldn’t be?
hatboy groaned, leaning forward to attempt a miracle. he knew this was his last chance to recall his troops and perhaps save some face in front of ninjagirl, who stood above us, carefully quoting from japanese texts to provide us with the appropriate war-type atmosphere.
i grinned at my super-sidekick as he retrieved the dice from our battlefield. “you’re dicing with death now, ratboy.”
“don’t you ever get tired of saying that?”
i slurped in his general direction.
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