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Last edited by p8nt junky on Sat Jan 08, 2005 4:01 pm; edited 2 times in total

This is a story thread: Each person adds on to the story, picking it up from wherever the last post left off. please no overly sexual crap and nothing that would make the wee ones cry if they read it. (only 1 post per person per page)
So whoever reads this first just pick it up where i left off!! Twisted Evil

Once upon a time their was a 38 year old, still single, anime fan living in a cozy studio appartment in downtown new york. After a long day at the boring desk job he puts some popcorn in the microwave and sits down to start watching his favorite anime (Love Hina) for the 11th time . . .

[Okay, I'm going to permit this, but additions have to be in proper english (capitals, periods, etc...). Be nice and have fun. -t]

-AND PLEASE KEEP IT TO AROUND A PARAGRAPH O SO! ESSAYS ARE FOR SCHOOL Laughing

Then after watching it, he walks over to his Rickenbacker Bass guitar, with a picture of Haruko and Naota onit, and began to rock out to Iron maiden's "Halow be thy name." After he sat down to eat some raman noodles and burnt his tounge on the first bite.

"Another boring, lonely, pointless night," he whispered sadly. He decided he needed a change, so, for the first time ever, he went out to get some fresh air.

Last edited by kamiboy on Wed Jan 12, 2005 12:20 pm; edited 2 times in total

It was a mistake he would live to regret and regret to live trough. It turned out it was prom night and a couple of drunkard highs school kids, all on the football team, had in their bender somehow wandered onto his neighbourhood. He saw them coming towards him on the sidewalk and quickly his heartbeat started to rise.

He got flashback after flashback from the time guys like them would pick on him and call him names because he used to watch “cartoons”. Explaining that what he was actually watching was called anime and was an extinguished Japanese art form and legitimate past time for grownups only seemed to agitate them to flush his head down the toilet one more time.

As his trip down the nightmare of memory lane led him deeper and deeper into the abyss of his long-oppressed experiences cold sweat started to form on his forehead. He suddenly started to shake and repeat the simple mantra “I mustn’t run away. I mustn’t run away” over and over. Until suddenly he realised something, he was no longer that scrawny, acne infested, pasty skinned 16-year-old geek with asthma. He was now all that plus 38 years old and the kids were drunk out of their minds, he could take them…. and by beating the snot out of them defeat his high school day demons and save tens of thousands on his shrink bill. He then calmly reached for his replica retractable blade Evangelion prog-knife that he always carried around with him in his pocket.

Suddenly, out of no where, a fairy appeared, a male fairy. "odd" thought the man as he inspected the fairy with its crimson colored wings, its dingy red jeans and its long flowing black coat that never seemed to end. This was indeed an unusual fairy but nevertheless it was still a fairy. The man was sure of it.

After a few short the seconds, the man caught himself staring eagerly at the fairy as if in anticipation in of some grand proclamation. The fairy only gave a cold piercing stare that filled the man with fear, but something was amiss. The fairy didn't seem to be staring at the man but rather through him as if he was searching for something else. The man stared on though, hoping that something would happen, that this fairy would whisk him off into some new world some world where he could begin his life again.

A sound the rang out in the night. The man awoke from his day-dream and, with the fairy still in front of him, he turned his attention to drunken boys. It appeared as though they had acknowledged the man and headed in his direction. At first, the man thought to move but then hesitated. He was frozen in his spot. He wanted so badly to beat those boys but he couldnt help but feel that the fairy had other plans for him.

As thoughts raced through his mind, the boys stumbled closer to the man. He remained in the same spot like a statue, contemplating whether or no to take vengeance or to engage the motionlesss fairy.

The decision ran through his mind a million times, "Should I stay and fight, or should I go." He couldn't decide and time was running thin as the drunken boys grew near. Then suddenly like a breath of fresh air, a saying came to him which his late grandfather would always say to him as a child, "Always take the path less traveled."

"Always take the path less traveled." He said aloud, almost reassuring his decision to him self. Then he moved towards the direction of the fairy, arms spread out wide like a child trying to catch a fluttering butterfly. He didn't know where this fairy would lead him to, he didn't know if this "thing" was even real, but there was a chance, an opportunity he could escape this world and all of its problems, all of his problems. As he grew near a white light began to shine around him, and he felt as though all of his problems would go away, no more girls, no more work, no more life. He was engulfed in this light to the point where he didn't feel like he was on earth anymore; he shut his eyes and smiled. Still moving toward this "thing" he opened his eyes to reveal......

The fairy sized the man up and in a clear voice, asked "Are you a man?" The man stood up and replied "I'm a solidier." The fairy laughed, not a sweet, lilting laugh but a hard, coarse one. "You're not either, you're just a errand boy sent by jackals on a whim. So why don't you just do what you were sent here to do?" With that, he flew on a branch and watched as the boys came closer. The man, thoroughly confused, was lost until one of the boys tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Hey, Pops. Got some spare change for the bus?" With the knife behind is back, the old man looked the druken teens in the eye, then looked at the fairy, who tilted his head and gave the man a smile as if to say "now what?".

It was then that the man decided to revert to his African - tribal origins and he started the ritual dance for wisdom and guidance; which looks a hell of a lot like someone trying to stab your ass with a knife!!! The kids, not knowing what the hell this crazy, 38 year old, anime loving loner was planing on doing to them decided to TRY and run away . . . but being drunk made this kinda hard. One slipped off the curb and fell into the middle of the street unconcious, another veered off course into a stop sign pole and the other one forgot the rules of a crosswalk and ran into the middle of oncoming traffic . . .

He stared smugly at the druken boys riduculous attempts to escape. He could so easily take out all his 38 years of repressed anger and frustaration on these two strangers and then slip back into his apartment to catch a late viewing of the Love Hina Christmas Special. He had little time to weigh over these consequences though for he saw that one of the boys was about to meet his maker at the hands of an oncoming semi. He shielded his eyes from what he was sure was going to be a bloody incident, but when he looked up again he saw the youth unscathed, lying unconscious at the edge of the sidewalk.

He glanced at the fairy again, looking for any guidance on what he should do next. Yet the fairy only looked back with a defiant grin, whatever secrets it held, it was not going to talk. With this the man decided to continue his African dance, the Re-ar-shiki-fako-jako inspiration dance, but in fact his African roots were pretty shaky and he actually was performing the Re-eno-shito-jiki rain dance. Regardless of his poor dancing skills, a crowd of people were beginning to notice him, including a certain police officer...

Last edited by kamiboy on Wed Jan 12, 2005 12:54 pm; edited 6 times in total

(Sorry p8nt junky I know this breaks two of the rules but I was overcome by a fit of inspiration and couldn’t help myself.)

Everything was dark and he had a migraine the size of Kentucky. He couldn’t see or hear anything, but boy could he feel. Slowly his eyes started to see again but everything was so blurry that he could be falling headfirst into a pool of molten lava on the surface of the moon and not notice it was happening. It was almost like he was drunk, or what he imagined what it was like to be drunk, as even the alcohol from a simple rinsing of his mouth with mouthwash could send him into a deep coma.

Just as his haze was about to pass he was suddenly hit on the side of a face with a blunt object and it was just the kind of slap to the face he needed to become fully alert. He looked around and he saw that he was in a small room sitting on a chair with a metallic table in front of him. To his side was a huge mirror that spanned most of the length of the wall. He had seen rooms like this before in movies, it was police interrogation room!

Just as the ramifications of his discovery were about to sink in he received another blow from the blunt object, which he now identified as a police baton. The officer dealing out the Rodney King beating on his ass screamed at the top of his lungs: “I told you what the f*** do you have to say in your defence, huh?”.

Suppose you are going to tell me that mommy never held you as a kid or daddy never came to your recitals? Or maybe you’re going to plead insanity? No, no, no, no! Me and New York’s finest here are going to make absolutely sure that you don’t get off so easy. Uhuh, you are going to do time booyhhh, hard time. You are going to do Life in the worst of worst joints built to perfection for guys like you. Oh, yeah. They are going to eat you alive in there, skinny boy. They just, oh so, love tasty little treats like you in places like that.

The other officer entered into view continuing: Yes sirry bob there sure is going to be a line behind you everyday in the showers all right. The police chief has personally promised to knock off 10 years off of the sentence of any big smelly gorilla of a convict that is willing to pound your sweet little ass 10 ways from every Sunday.

A third officer cracked his police staff on his leg and continued: And I am personally going to take an one hour detour down to the penitentiary every day and pay the cook to spit, urinate and s*** in your food. Yes, yes, it is going to be Mmmmm, Mmmmmm good.

As he continued to get repeatedly beaten and verbally abused by the boys in blue the absurdity and gravity of his current situation started to unravel before him. This wasn’t a dream; it was as real as the metallic taste of blood in his mouth as he spit out his three front teeth that fell victim to the most recent sadistic blow to his face. Why was he here? Why was he being treated this way? The most recent event his groggy memory could reproduce was his encounter with the drunkard high schoolers and that weird ass fairy, what the hell was that all about?

His first few attempts at asking his abusers for an explanation only resulted in some unintelligible mumbling and the release of a few pints of blood from his mouth. He was not put off by the failure of his first few attempts, as he was determent to ask his question before the officer that had taken a liking to his balls as a favourite target came in for another swing. This time he decided to yell instead of trying to speak and although the sounds escaping his mouth were more alike the mating call of the male manatee than human speech he nevertheless managed to catch the attention of the officers who now gave him their full attention.

That is all expect the one who had taken a liking to the captives nether regions, his frivolous pounding of the victims unmentionables was done with such passion and enthusiasm that he had completely failed to notice his futile attempts at communication. After a couple of more minutes in masochist heaven the other officers finally decided to stop their colleague from his beating frenzy. For one because the victim seemed to have lost all feeling in that area and second because this had been his first attempt at speaking since his capture and they were actually supposed to interview him.

The officer with the long blond hair, scar across his face and eye patch sat down on a chair in front of the victim, pointed the lamp on the table to the victims face, turned on the tape-recorded on and said “speak” in a dry husky tough guy voice.

The victim who had by now regained most of his speaking abilities said in a shaking voice: What is going on? Why am I here? Why are you doing this to me?

The obese sweaty officer with the small beady pig like eyes standing on his left remarked in a amused tone and with a strong southern accent while biting into a donut like his life depended on it: Heh, playing the amnesia card, huh? Mighty clever booyhhh! But not quite clever enough!

His last remark was said in an angry tone and in tandem with the landing of five across the already quite numb face of the victim.

Another short, thin and so far unseen officer with a stammer then threw something on the table and grabbed the victims head from behind shoving his face towards the materiel on it saying: “So yo yo yo yo yo you are se se se se sa saaayiiiing tha, tha, tha, that you do do do doooo don’t remember doing th th th this? Yo yo yo yo yo monster!!!”

The victim looked down at the Polaroid’s on the desk and instantly became noxious from looking at them. There was blood everywhere making it hard to tell what was what in the photograph. He could however recognize a severed left leg, some entrails, a skull bashed against a wall in an orgy of blood and what appeared to be the remains of several torsos. As the reality of the horror depicted in the picture started dawn on him he suddenly felt the urge to vomit and just as the content of his last pocky feast was speeding towards his mouth with youthful vigour the police officer yanked his head backwards perfectly setting up the trajectory of the projectile vomit to hit the blond though guy officer with full force.

After some further beating as punishment for the victim’s most recent misdeed the officer with vomit on him decided to step outside and clean himself up. As the interrogation room door was closing in behind him the fairy from earlier flew in unnoticed.

Just then one of the officers who was an older guy decidedly close to pensioning age snapped and drew his gun pointing it at the head of the victim. It was clear from the get-go that the crazy look in the man's eye meant that this was not just a good-cop/bad-cop routine. The gun itself was one of the biggest handguns the victim had ever seen and it was obvious that one shot from it could turn his head into tomato soup and paint the walls with his extensive knowledge of anime and Evangelion hentai Doujinshi.

The other officers all got up staring at their colleague whom they all clearly respected but none of them made any attempts at stopping him.

The old cop started: We should just waste this mother**** right here and say he tried to make a break for it. They’ll understand, they will all understand after what this…. this monster did to those, those poor people. Thirteen innocent lives taken by this demon and you say we should let him have a trial and have some fancy pants lawyer let him get off on insanity or some technicality? no way! Sixty years, sixty years I’ve been on the force and I’ve met some pretty crazy bastards in my time but this one… this one is different. He is the devil himself reborn!

The cop continued now sobbing like an 11-year-old girl who lost her puppy. Those, those poor kids. Their bodies so mangled and torn apart that they couldn’t be identified with dental or fingerprints. We don’t even know which part should go into which casket, they will all have to be buried in one huge grave! And when we tried to take him down…. (heavy breathing) he… he…. he… this BASTARD killed 15 cops before he was stopped. Jimmy... he was just a rookie damn it! It was his first day on the force. He was just a kid! How could you? How could this scrawny little four-eyed man do so much damage?

As the geriatric basket case continued on with his heroic speech the victim started to notice something in the corner of his eye. He looked towards the ceiling and saw that the fairy from earlier was there again. Was he going crazy? Maybe he did do all those things that the cops were accusing him of. As he was sinking deeper and deeper into thought while still staring at the fairy he did not notice that the cop’s finger was tightening on the guns trigger with each passing second. Suddenly a few seconds before the finger would be tight enough for the gun to go off sending the victims brains flying towards the wall the fairy started to glow and everything started to go red in the eyes of the victim.

When he snapped out of it he found himself beating the geriatric cop to death with his own leg. He looked around the room and everywhere was blood, entrails and pieces of flesh and broken bones. The fairy then spoke, so you are finally back again huh? That was a close one, if I had been just a few seconds later it might have been your remains clinging to the walls and ceiling here.

The victim looked at the fairy, still bludgeoning the old cop with his leg, and with a dumfounded look on his face said: So this was all your doing?

The fairy replied with a smug look on his face: No you were the one doing all the killing, all right. Sure, bringing out a manifestation of a humans inner demons is among the talents we fairies have but the rest is up to the demonised human. Congratulations, your inner demons were of incredible strength just as I though, you have passed the test. Now come, it won’t be long before the other cops will notice their comrades missing. We should get going or the body count will rise to the hundreds. I need your powers for something.

If as not by his control the man moved towards the wall and with one firm clench of his fist he punched a gaping hole in the wall where he and the fairy exited the precinct. How did I get here he thought? I was just watching love hina and decided to go outside and get some air and now I just killed over 30 people.
you must not fear what is to come a voice said echoing over his every thought. What, what was that was that me thinking or something else? The man looked toward the fairy, "Was that you?" the man said with confusion
"No, that was my boss."
"Your boss? Who is he?"
"Well he is... you'll see soon enough."
A fear over came his body, he was scared of what was to come. He tried thinking of what his dear Keitaro would do in a situation like this, but the demon in him kept on moving for him. He could no longer control his movements he was just a separate entity thinking a mile a minute. They approached this double Decker house and worked there way up to the two flights of stairs to a door.
"Your boss lives in a double Decker apartment? I was expecting to go into the pits of hell."
The Fairy laughed and said "Just remember what he told you in your head."
You must not fear what is to come; he said to him self as the fairy opened the door.

Last edited by kamiboy on Tue Jan 11, 2005 10:55 pm; edited 1 time in total

(Since nobody had replied for like a whole day I will continue with the my third exciting instalment of the OTAKU chronicles)

As they approached the door it suddenly flew open with a tremendous force and from the darkness within only a flash of light being reflected on something metallic was visible. Before Francis (he needs a name damn it, and seeing as how he is such a girly man I thought a girly name would be appropriate) had any time to react something was swung at him with incredible speed. As it turned out the thing welcoming him in with open arms was in fact a blade of some sort intending, to his dismay, to part its targets head from his body. Now usually the zombie-cat, rigor mortis plagued, reflexes of Francis, that had always reserved him the losing seat in all his video gaming matches, would have done little to alter the fated tearful parting of his head from his body, but the demon was now the one in charge.

Francis’s arm swung up with such speed that it seemed like it had vanished from his side and just reappeared out of nowhere in its new location. The hand appeared in front of Francis’s face blocking the path of the sword. This of course should only have resulted in Francis losing both his beloved left hand, with whom he had had many a gay time of merrymaking, as well as his head. But somehow the blade came to halt having only cut trough half of Francis’s arm. As Francis was busy staring at the blood gushing out of his soon to be “cool” scar he failed to notice the wielder of the blade had taken out his blade and was now ready to take a new swing at the whole killing of Francis thing.

It seems the assailant had, given his previous failure, decided on a new course of action as he was now holding the sword in such a way as to allow a stabbing motion. The pointy sharp head of the blade would no doubt increase the penetrating power of his next attack not mentioning that the attacker was now clearly putting his full might into it. Alas, the demon once again had other planes for Francis than to let him become a human shish kebab as Francis’s other hand now swung up placing its palm in the intended path of the blade. This time the blade did not stop half way as Francis’s palm was, despite all the hardened skin his daily Love Hina Doujinshi aided relaxation marathons had added to his hairy palms, not thick enough to stop it, even with his newfound demon powers. The thin blade penetrated his palm and continued on its adventures journey towards Francis’s, broken a million times over, heart.

But this seems to all have been part of the demon’s plans as centimetres before the blade pierced Francis’s chest his hands clenched hard around the blade bringing it to a halt. The demon now Yanked the blade back with such force that the gust of wind it produced sent the absent-minded fairy flying back. The wielder of the blade who had no intention to fail his second assassination attempt had in doing so made such a firm grip of the stilt of his blade that he accompanied the blade on the new path that the demon had plotted for it. Unfortunately for the assassin this new path brought his head in for a perfect, face to fist style, contact with the fisted hand on the other arm of the demon which was now swinging forth with the same speed as the other arm was pulling him forward. Newton’s first law of motion made the prediction of the conclusion of this affair painfully obvious for the poor assailant but left him with little time to make any attempt at changing its outcome.

The demon’s fist met the assassin’s face with such a fury that it beautifully transformed it into a psychedelic panorama of the red’s of his blood and the white’s of the pulverized bones in his face before either the Fairy or Francis could see what it looked like. As for the body, it was thrown back with such a breathtaking speed that its contact with the concrete wall only left a huge crater and a giant red spot, not unlike what you are left with after squashing a bug with a rolled up piece of newspaper, as proof that it had ever even existed.

The fairy who had been blown a good deal far away had now regained itself and flew back and sat on Francis’s shoulder. Looking at the stain on the wall with an indifferent look on his face he said “Well you can expect things like this very often from now on. From here on everyone and their dog will want to put you six feet under. Now lets get going, the boss is waiting.”

Francis was in such a shock that his witty response came only in the form of a retarded look on the demon’s face as he continued inside. They entered a rather long dark corridor and as they got closer to the vaguely visible door on the other end things started to feel kind of weird. The air became thick and it suddenly became harder to walk than a sack full of newborn kittens trying to escape a closed potato sack as it is slowly sinking into the icy waters of the Hudson River. Francis started looking around for anything to explain the weird incident but only noticed that everything was wobbly and distorted like a heat wave rising from the asphalt on a hot summer day. The fairy, still on his shoulder, looked at Francis’s confusion and explained to him that there was noting to worry about and that “This is a perfectly normal phenomenon for the crossing the border between two worlds”.

Francis couth himself thinking “So all those anime were right there really is another world beside the human. That must be where this weird ass fairy and his boss came from”. As they came close to the huge mahogany door adorned with a patterned design not unlike what you might find on the office door of big-shot executives it slowly swung open inwards. The inside of the room they entered also gave off the aura of an executive office with a few exceptions. The floor was dressed with a huge Persian rug that was adorned with strange patterns and depicted a mural of some sort. On the walls were these trophy heads that you might find in the house of Victorian explorers with the exception that they bore not the heads of animals but that of strange creatures and the occasional human. Francis would have been terrified by this scenery was it not the fact that a stuffed human head was by far the least disturbing thing he had seen this evening. So instead of being hung up on the trophies his hungering curiosity prompted him to turn his head and examine the rest of the curious artefacts and knickknack in the dimly let room.

His eyes finally rested upon a rather big mahogany desk facing the door from the other side of the room. Behind the desk was a rather tall leather chair with its back to the approaching Francis and the fairy. Looking at the dimensions of the room, desk and the chair Francis was expecting some kind of towering behemoth to be seated on the chair and imagining what he might look like raised his heartbeat a few octaves. Then suddenly the voice he had earlier heard in his head came from behind the desk saying, “You must excuse the lack of light in this room, but we Bolongs are a light shy race.”

The voice continued “As expected your demon handled the would be assailant with little trouble. He he he. You turned out perfect all right.”

Francis realising the underlying meaning of the words suddenly bursted “What?!? You telling me you knew perfectly well that that thing was waiting for me and all you could think of saying in our last telepathy session was, you must not fear what is to come?”. Francis continued while looking at the hole in his palm, “What the F*** is up with this s***? I mean look at my arms for god’s sake! One is nearly sliced off and the other has a hole in it the size of a silver dollar. What is the dilly yo’all?”. I have half a mind to literally rip you a new one with my newfound demon powers and bite the head off your lackey elf while I’m at it”.

The fairy’s eyes sprang wide open and his face turned pale as a ghost while hearing this. He finally quickly grabbed Francis’s lips forcing them shut, “Watch your mouth you imbecile! You are in the presence of his lordship King BongoBongo of the Bolong Empire and he is a powerful fire magic user to boot. He could roast your chestnuts to a crisp fine powder where you are standing. Do not awaken his anger.”

BongoBongo jumped in, “Ah, never mind the formalities. He is just an human and besides I never really cared for all the fancy customs and etiquette that was attached to my regency.”

As he was saying this his chair slowly swung to face his guests revealing his true form. Francis who was struggling with the surprisingly powerful fairy was suddenly aware that BongoBongo had revealed himself at last and turned from the fairy to face him. With one glance Francis’s dark and foreboding image of the body attached to the deep booming voice of BongoBongo was shattered into a million pieces. Not unlike the shattering of his heart the time the fat ugly deformed girl in his class had turned down his prom invitation by saying that she would rather be in a German Scheiße movie.

On the chair was seated this strange furry little creature that very much resembled those furby creatures his kid sister used to love to play with. Countless many of whom he had set ablaze to take out his frustrations on his weak sister who only grew strong enough to beat up her 8 years older brother in the fifth grade. Glaring at his little furry ball with two huge eyes and two twig-like hands protruding from its sides Francis’s jaws dropped. This lead to a little drooling followed by a strong urge to spray he creature with gasoline and setting it ablaze.

BongoBongo didn’t need to read his mind, as the perverted look on his face made a pretty good job of revealing his urges. To prevent their fruition he made a quick gesture with his hand, which seemed to lead to the setting on fire of the few hairs that the balding process of the last 22 years had spared on Francis’s head. Francis realising what had happened snapped out of it screaming like a 6 year old little girl whose leg has just been chewed off by the neighbour’s demonic dog named “vicious” all while running and hitting his head in an feeble attempt to put out the never-ending inferno.

After a few more minutes of watching the spectacle while laughing his ass off BongoBongo decided that he had had enough and with another gesture from his hands made the fire disappear. Francis turned his third degree burnt head towards BongoBongo looking at him with all the newfound respect and fear that a lab animal has for the sadistic lab technician holding the cattle prod looking to have a “good time”.

BongoBongo wiped the tears of joy he had shed laughing while saying, “Well, that’s enough fun for now you poor clueless bastard.” He continued with a stern look on his furry face, “It is time for the full unveiling of our plans for you and others like you. First off I will reveal the shocking truth behind your past. You were chosen at birth as candidate in operation OTAKU. Yes, we to ensure the strength of your inner demons have meticulously orchestrated every single part of the play that has been your life. But our plans for you started even before your cursed birth. Yes, they started when you were still a glint in the eyes of your wife abusing, womanising father. Oh by the way, it was us who made him be that way; in reality he was the perfect vision of the loyal husband and caring father. Yes, even the night where your father’s drunken charm led to him having his way with your mother in the most beastly of ways and thereby conceiving you was planned by us. When you were still a sperm we extracted you from your fathers loins after he had passed out from finishing that fifth bottle of “InstaClean (c)”. We then, using the most advanced genetic manipulation techniques available at the time, changed your hereditary materiel to the weakest, most diseased and undesired ones we could think of and thereby solidified your destiny as an all out loser. But that wasn’t enough, no sir!”

The fairy now jumped in continuing, “In order to ensure the healthy growth and development of your inner demons we had to give you the worst life imaginable by human standards. Yes, what the horrified look on your face suggests you are thinking is true. It was us who set you on the path to become an Otaku!”

Francis hearing his worst-case scenario being confirmed tilted his still smoking head upwards screaming, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” from the top of his lungs as the camera zoomed out in a dramatic way.

Francis continued, “You bastards! You utter, utter bastards! It was you! It was your diabolic pulling of the strings from behind the scene of my wretched life that led me to be a 38-year-old virgin with Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from all my self-pity motivated masturbation. Why? Why!? Why?!? Why would commit this most heinous of crimes upon my innocent self.”

The fairy replied with a puzzled look on his face, “We already told you, to insure the growth of the demon.”

Francis, “Oh…… ok go on.”

The Fairy continued, “Yes, in fact you are not alone. All Otaku around the world were manipulated to become what they are by us. Years of research into the topic revealed that all Otaku lead the most tortures and cursed existence on earth. To ensure that the Otaku did not veer off their intended paths we manipulated the Japanese animation industry and shaped it into what it is today.”

Francis jumped in with a surprised look on his face, “huh? Really how so?”.

The fairy continued, “You know the Gainax bounce?”.

Francis replied with an exited and dirty look on his face, “Yeah, I love that one.”

The fairy pointing a lit flashlight to his face from below, “Yes, we knew that that kind of thing would be like crack for your kind. It was our doing! We basically invented fan service as it exists today. And we personally oversaw the production of the most evil anime in existence… MAO-CHAN! Mwhah hah hah hah hah!”

As the fairy continued on with his manic laughter BongoBongo saw it fit to continue his earth shattering explanations, “You might ask yourself why we would go trough all this trouble of creating so many Otaku with strong demons inside, yes? It is very simple… military might. We have raised this demonic army of Otaku to aid us in our upcoming war with the United Zablam Empire. For centauries now bad blood has existed between my people and those of that Empire and it has resulted in many a bloody conflicts. But we are both very strong nations and attacking each other achieves little more that the massacring of countless soldiers. Twenty years ago a secret alliance was formed between the fairy nation and ours and trough it we gained an ally of unimaginable strength. Until very recently the Zablam Empire did not regard the fairies as being of any threat to them as they were blissfully unaware of the potential of their demon manifestation powers.“

“But lately their spies have raised their suspicions as to our conducts in the human world. The reptilian race of Zablam aristocracy are a crafty bunch who would rather strike first and ask questions later rather than risk being sorry in the future. It was their assassin with whom you had a brief brush of shoulders earlier. We cannot keep our plans a secret from them much longer and that is why we must strike now. We want you who posses one of the most powerful demons to lead a platoon of OTAKU warriors in battle as their captain.“

Francis raised an eyebrow, “This might seem like a cliché question and I am almost sure of the reply, but what the hey. What if I refuse?”

BongoBongo who was not the least surprised by the question responded, “If you refuse then me and my fairy friend shall be feasting on the roasted remains of the most precious content of your pants at my welcome back banquet tonight.”

Francis threw his had down saying, “Just as I was expecting. Well, do I at least get something in compensation for my efforts and the twisted life you forced me to lead?”

The fairy who had until now continued with his diabolic laughing suddenly stopped, saying, “I thought you would never ask. First of all if we manage to win the war against the Zablam Empire each captain will receive a harem of 40 16-year-old virgin brides.”

Hearing this Francis’s head flew up, “Really? Wow! That will more than make up for all the crimes against me…. Wait a minute are they going to be beautiful?”

The fairy answered hesitantly while his eyes shifted from one side to the other, “Eh.. ye… yeah. They are go… going to be pretty, enough. I guess… I mean come on! You were going to take that girl who had been nicknamed the “beast” to the prom and I know you were hoping to get laid, you sleazy bastard.”

The fairy continued changing the subject, “You also get this, which was forged by the greatest smiths of our world specially for you.”

With that the fairy flew over to a stand and removed the decorated piece of cloth that was concealing something very long beneath it. The removing of the cloth produced what appeared to be a rather huge bulky looking sword with a ragged saw-like edge. Just the though of what kind of brutal damage something like this could do in the hands of his demon sent a smile on Francis’s face. But then he suddenly realised something that prompted him to shout, “What the dilly? You guys knew that I am anime fan and you give me this ugly thing instead of a cool Japanese katana? What in holy hell is going here?”

BongoBongo who was visibly not happy with the scorning of the blade his people had worked non-stop for 4 years to create replied in an angry voice, “Listen, a Katana is an elegant blade that requires the hands of a skilled sword fighter who uses it with a certain finesse, and panache even. That demon inside you needs something he can swing around with all the grace of a gorilla swinging a stick at the tourists in the zoo while flinging his faeces at them. Trust me a sword of this size and shape is perfect for you. Now enough of this talking for now, we will have plenty of time to catch up when we meet again in our world.”

Francis jumped in, “Wow, wow, wow! So you’re telling me that this isn’t your world? Then where the dilly are we?”

The fairy replied, “That is correct but it will take too long to explain things now. Everything will be adequately explained when we get to the other side. We have to hurry and get out of here before the portal between the worlds closes. If we miss it we will have to wait another 14 days for a new one to open. Come now we have to get back outside and head for the portals location.”

With that the fairy started flying towards the door they had entered the room through. Francis tried to grab the sword but realised that he couldn’t even lift it but then the demon intervened and lifted the sword from its stand with ease resting it on his shoulder. BongoBongo who was apparently going to see them off levitated from his chair and hovered towards the door. He followed them right until that strange barrier thing they had crossed to get into the room. There he stopped saying, “Well this is goodbye for now as this is as far as I can come. I trust I will see you both later tonight at the welcoming banquet.”

Francis nodded and continued following the fairy towards the door leading outside.

As Francis and the fairy opened the doubles doors of the mansion's entrance, they found themselves staring into the collected 5,000 watts of an uncountable amount of police maglights and spotlights. The light was so intense that Francis eyes couldn't keep up with how much pain they should be feeling so his eardrums took some of the load and began to throb and pound for a minute as he desperately tried to reorient himself.

Just then the cliche man w/ a megaphone chimed in, "FREEZE DIRTBAG!! DROP YOUR . . . uh . . . hey um sarge . . . what the hell is that thing on his shoulders?"

At the sound of the confused officers voice the inner demon of Francis took hold and began to cackle uncontrolably as it descended the 5 steps in front of the door which lead to the main walkway. This of course was accompanied by the sargeant grabbing the megaphone and yelling "HE'S NOT GIVING UP BOYS!! OPEN FIRE!!"

Now, given the situation, with just shy of a hundred police officers and S.W.A.T team members firing what ever sort of pistol, smg or highpowered rifle they happened to posses at him, Francis' demon, well versed in japanese anime, elected to follow in the footsteps of countless anime sword carrying heros who found themselves encountering an inumerable amount of flying shit IE: ninja stars, arrows, bullets or whatever coming at them and spun the huge ass sword in his hands at an unimaginable speed reflecting every last projectile back onto its original owner and slaughtering the entire opposition.

He then finished his decent down the steps and looked over his shoulder at the fairy, "So where are we headed again?" . . .

Last edited by kamiboy on Tue Jan 11, 2005 10:52 pm; edited 1 time in total

(I can’t imagine anyone actually enjoys reading my poor attempt at writing or my vivid and colourful description of ultra violence and gore found within, but what the hay! I enjoy writing it, so now without any further adieu here is the next blood dripping instalment of the OTAKU chronicles)

The fairy who was very pleased by the apocalyptic scenery before him was about to point out the direction of their destination when something caught his attention. It was what appeared to be guy wearing some kind of white clown suit adorned with huge red dots complete with a purple hair wig and giant comical clown shoes. He was walking towards them while balancing a stack of pizzas and several cans of soda so high that they blocked his view from the hell he was walking right into. He slowly drew closer to the freshly made pool of blood that had been released from bullet hole ridden bodies of the 100 or so cops and SWAT members laying motionless on the ground. Unfortunately for the man the red giant clown shoes he was wearing were a poor choice of footwear to traverse a pool ‘o blood. Before stepping into the blood the clown had started saying, “Hey guys, they were all out of pepperoni so instead I got some….”. That was as far as he got before his right foot’s greeting with the surface of the blood sent it, the right shoe and all the pizza’s he was carrying flying up into the air.

The man’s now unblocked face revealed his identity as being the though-guy cop AKA the only survivor of the interrogation room massacre. The very same guy who, although had been covered head to toe in pocky vomit, somehow still managed to be the luckiest person in that room. Apparently his lacking success in the pursuit of a spare uniform had somehow led to him wearing his current attire, although the full story behind it shall forever remain unknown.

The clown-cop landed ass first in the pool of blood underneath him in a manner most befitting his clown ensemble. He was about reach his hands up to wipe away the second sticky substance he had been covered with that night when the airborne pizzas and cans of soda, falling slave to the gravity of mother earth, came back down on his unsuspecting head submerging it into the fluids below. After a few mouthfuls of the strangely refreshing beverage he managed to struggle himself out from beneath the falling debris. He then flew up on his feet gasping for air all while wiping his face with one hand and with the other producing a handgun from on of his oversized clown pockets.

The man screamed while waiving his gun around like a madman, “What in carnations it going on here! I swear if this is another prank I’ll kill you and your families in your sleep.”

He would have continued voicing his discontent was it not for the fact that he was now aware that none of his buddies were in sight to hear his complaints. Confused he looked left and right trying to grasp what was going on when he at the same time noticed the pool of blood and the partially submerged bodies of enough officers to put any cop killer to shame. His one eye flew wide open while taking in the surreal scenery when it suddenly froze on the shape of the only human beside him who was still standing. He instantly recognized the face of the guy who was to blame for the years of pranks and what not he will have to bear from the other guy at the precinct due to his newfound uniform. That is if they weren’t all lying dead on ground in front of him. His realization shocked him so much that the big red clown nose he was wearing dropped down into the liquids below as his mouth flew open.

He had little time to think as he reflexively jumped behind a police car, ripped out radio from its cradle and screamed, “Officer down, officer down! They are all dead god damn it! Send reinforcements! Send everything you got! For gods sake, send the army!”

With that he hurried his way to his squad car and with a crazy look on his face and a twitching eye he tore open its trunk taking something out of it while screaming, “He, he, he. Just you wait you freak! I borrowed these from lockup just for such a situation. I’ll end you with this!”

And with that he placed the bazooka he had taken out of the trunk on his shoulder and fired it in the general direction of his arch nemesis. Unfortunately he did this in a state of panic so his aim was off by a few meters, which landed the self-propelled grenade right in the middle of the blood pool. Upon contact the grenade exploded sending several litres of blood up, only for them to rain down on him like something out of an end of the world prophecy.

The demon inside Francis who had no intention of giving the clown-cop enough time to better his aim jumped into the air towards the squad car while swinging his sword downward towards it. The meeting of metals that this resulted in ended in the slicing in half of the police car. The clown-cop however who had grabbed a bundle of various weapons out and the truck before running clumsily away on one shoe while screaming like Homer Simpson had escaped with his life for now.

The demon who was kind of impressed that the clown-cop had managed to not get sliced in half stood there for a moment being amused by the cop’s clumsy escape attempt. He was about to make his second jump and this time slice the cop in half when an airborne torso, whose origins could no doubt be traced back to the earlier explosion, landed on the clown-cops head causing him fall face first and get a first hand impression of the feel of the asphalt below. The cop’s clumsy landing had resulted in the parting between five hand grenades and their accompanying pins, all of whom remained attached to the cop’s finger.

The five grenades, each of which took a different path, all managed to cover quite a distance before meeting the ground again. The clown-cop was blissfully unaware of the imminent danger as he was too busy frivolously fighting to free himself of intestines, spewing out of the torso, which was entangled around his face. As he was trying to pry away the intestines wrapped around his face he managed to free his eye with his hand which immediately brought into his view the five pins free of each their respective grenades. Realising what had happened the clown-cop gave up trying to free himself and instead started to sprint in the direction of a garbage container all the while dragging the torso, still attached to the intestines around his face, behind him. Seconds before the grenades exploded he managed to dive headfirst into the medical waste that had been illegally dumped into the container. This resulted in him being pricked by several used syringes, of which the long-term implications of exposure to their diseased contents were unknown.

The ensuing explosion sent the container, the clown-cop inside it and the still attached torso flying down the street. The clown-cop who in the explosion had been rid of the intestines only to have it replaced by several used diapers stuck to his face was not in an all too good mood. He peeled off the diapers from his face trying to fight the dry heaving reflexes that were awakened by the smell of their rather messy contents. Doing this he was contemplating his next move as his garbage clogged ears started to hear the sound of helicopters and sirens approaching. They had gotten the message and by the sound of it they really had sent everything they had, that freak was going to have his work cut out for him. With this a diabolic smile appeared in his face as he reloaded his bazooka.

(I’m back and my fingers are black from typing the next grizzly instalment of the OTAKU chronicles. But first a warning to the frail, squeamish and those with weak stomachs among us. This instalment of OTAKU chronicles is the bloodiest most violent yet so you are warned beforehand. Basically if you find yourself wishing that the Berserk manga had more gore and cruelty then you should read on…. man I wish I could draw)

The clown-cop placed the bazooka on his shoulder and jumped out from behind the dumpster while his eyes shifted from side to side looking for the location of his soon to be dead target, but he was gone!

Before panic took him he realised something that immediately calmed him down and placed a smile on his face. He couldn’t have gotten away; he must be still hiding somewhere around here. The only escape route was trough here and he sure as hell would have noticed the freak come running by. With this several S.W.A.T vans and police vehicles came to a screeching halt and out of them poured a sea of law enforcement officers, each armed to their teeth. The clown-cop being overcome by feeling from the joyous reunion with his buddies jumped out from behind the flipped over car that had hidden him out of view, while giving little thought to the consequences.

Seeing the site of the hellish clown covered in blood, garbage and what not, armed with various instruments of death among of which was a loaded bazooka must have been a welcomed sight for the hundreds of cops with itchy trigger fingers. Somewhere among the crowd someone shouted, “There is one of the cop killing terrorist bastards and he is armed, foobar his sorry MoFo ass”. With that the simultaneous clicking of a hundred or so guns being loaded were heard followed by the deafening noise of all of them being fired. The clown-cop dodged behind the car managing to escape with only a few bullets heavier ass. The barrage of bullets continued as the cops clearly had their mind set on killing the terrorist even if they had to shoot away every tinny tiny part of the car he was hiding behind.

It didn’t take long for the gasoline tank of the car getting more holes than a there are needle marks on a two dollar crack whore. The car that clearly had a full tank started to spew gasoline out of every newly added orifice, most of which ended on the head of the guy hiding behind it. Looking at the third unwelcome substance he had been covered with that night with horror it didn’t take long for the clown-cop to see where things were rapidly heading. His mind had little time to contemplate his philosophical choice between the lesser of the two evils before him; did he want to end the night being barbequed or double his body mass with led?

As his mind was going back and forth trying to come up with a brilliant plan that would somehow save his ass, fate finally caught up with him. One of the bullets ignited the gasoline gushing out of the car setting it ablaze in an orgy of pretty dancing flames. As the car exploded the clown-cop finally decided to take his chances with the bullets and jumped out from behind the exploding car. The force of the explosion sent the clown-cop flying towards the mass of firing cops while he once again miraculously managed to catch a only a few more bullets with his ass. As he landed right smack in the middle of his would be executioners the friction from his landing ignited the several litres of gasoline he was covered with, lighting him up like Christmas tree.

The vision of a burning clown rolling around on the ground trying to put out its flames while screaming in a high pitched voice was just the thing to take away the cops attention from their shooting. After watching the clown struggle for its life with an admirable zest for a few more minutes, that for the clown felt like hours, someone decided that they liked their clown medium done and so grabbed a fire extinguisher. After the clown’s flames were put out someone noticed the charred remains of a police shield locked tight in the clenched fist of the unconscious clown leading them to the realisation of their folly.

As the medics were carrying the clown away on a stretcher the words, “s.. st.. still here…” escaped the clown’s mouth. Hearing this a guy in a police uniform adorned with various medals thought out loud to himself, “So they are still here are they.” He then picked up a megaphone putting to his mouth and uttered, “This is deputy chief Jim Bravura from the NYPD. We know that you are still here. You are completely surrounded by hundreds of officers and the military is currently on its way. Now, if you all drop your weapons and come out in an orderly fashion with your hands in the air you might live to see another day. We give you 2 minutes to comply before we storm the building.”

Placing the megaphone down the chief uttered to himself while lifting his police hat and scratching his head, “I sure as hell don’t hope they have any hostages. This might end up becoming very drawn out in case they do.” With that the chief’s head flew up from the sound of every gun present being cocked. The door to the building had slowly been opened and from the darkness inside the shape of a frail looking middle-aged guy had appeared without the slightest look of concern on his face. His stepping into the light of the countless police beacons revealed an impossibly long piece of metal on his shoulder. The cops started to whisper among themselves, “What the hell is that thing on his shoulder? Is it some kind of weapon? No, no I’ve never seen any gun shaped like that. It kind of looks like a huge sword of some kind. You think that that thing is a real sword? Are you crazy, it has to be a fake, no one could carry a piece of metal that huge around so casually, let alone swing it at someone.”

The chief yelled, “I am in charge of this operation so if anyone opens fire before I say so their sorry ass will be mine!” With that he picked up the megaphone again and repeated, “This is deputy chief Jim Bravura from the NYPD. You…”

As the chief was continuing on with his warnings Francis slowly descended the stairs and continued to draw closer until he was at the edge of the pool of blood. There he stopped and turned to the fairy saying, “So this is the guy who was going to have me become the boy-toy of a few hundred burley criminals, huh? What say you we return the favour, huh demon? I thi…. Wait a minute; I can’t just call you demon for Pete’s sake. I should give you a name. How about Zeruel the angel of might in Evangelion? Given his strength I would say that this name is a perfect match for you.”. The demon’s response came in the form of a demonic smile forming on Francis’s face.

Francis then turned his head towards the chief saying; “Now returning to the matter at hand; these guys no doubt went through a lot of trouble getting here, so lets give them a warm welcome shall we, Zeruel?”. Hearing his cue Zeruel took over lifting the sword from his shoulder and spearing it forward all in the same motion. The huge sword flew forwards with an unreal speed first splitting the chiefs megaphone in two leading it to the entering of the chief’s mouth and exiting out from the back of his head and dragging his body on with it as it continued on its flight. Tree unsuspecting cops standing a distance from each other behind the chief caught the sword in various parts of their body before the sword’s meeting with a concrete column brought an end to its journey. The gaze of every single cop in the squad whose eyes had been following the sword on its path were now pinned on the nightmarish sight of the bodies of their chief and tree cops hanging from the word on the column. In shock they continued with their staring for a few more moments before they all, seemingly simultaneously, came to their senses. With an unreal synchronicity all the cops turned around and started to fire toward the direction of the guy who had just performed the unimaginable circus act. There was quite a distance between the cops and Francis and between them were a couple of dozen police cars catching the vast majority of the oncoming barrage of bullets. On of the cars among them finally reached its critical mass of bullets and exploded setting of a chain reaction of exploding cars that looked like something out of a cheesy Hollywood movie. The blazing inferno of smoke and towering flames engulfed everything beyond the wall of police cars and blocked it from view.

After a few minutes more of shooting, someone next in line after the deceased chief on the chain of command decided to call out a ceasefire to get an assessment of the situation. It was impossible to see trough the smoke and fire that now had spread to several of the surrounding buildings among of which was the building the guy they were shooting at had come out of. He ordered one of the many police choppers to get in closer to locate the person’s body and confirm his killing. The helicopter drew in closer and shined a beacon of light in the middle of the pool of blood which was the only thing not burning while the person in charge was watching everything being transmitted from the chopper on a monitor. As the camera on the chopper panned back and forth trying to locate the body it was apparent that the body was nowhere to be seen. As the next in commands eyes were hurrying back and forth searching desperately for something, anything, they suddenly froze. He had now realized the location of the only place anyone could possibly survive the inferno. As his realisation shifted the focus of his towards the middle of the pool of blood a shape emerged flying out from beneath the surface with a tremendous force.

The person charge and the pilot of the helicopter looked on with horror as the thing below surface exploded forth dragging with it enough blood to make it look a fountain had sprung alive sending columns of blood into the air in beautiful shapes. In the minds of those witnessing the birth of a demon from inside its cradle of blood everything started to happen in slow motion, like a scene out of a Matrix parody. The blood slowly parted away revealing the shape inside it to be that of the murderer of the much loved late police chief. The person who had emerged continued on his ascend, landing him on windshield of the chopper with such force as to send it into a spin. The terrified chopper pilot looking at the blood covered face of the person who had just performed the circus act of a jump was trying to bring the chopper under control with one hand while trying to undo the seatbelt harness tying him to his pilot seat with the other.

Just as the pilot managed to free himself from his harness Zeruel drove his hand back forming it into a fist and then smashed it trough the chopper’s window grabbing the pilot. Just as quickly as he had gotten hold of him Zeruel pulled the dazed chopper pilot out tearing him apart as he came in contact with the razor sharp jagged pieces of the broken chopper window. The pilot was torn apart in such a way as to amputate all his limbs leaving them stuck to the chopper window while the rest of him was sent flying, still alive and screaming, several hundred meters only to crash into the window of an unsuspecting citizen that woke up finding a screaming torso lying on the bed next to her.

The chopper, now left with no one to control it, continued spinning out of control as it smashed into a wall and fell down on top of the officers below killing many of them in the crash and ensuing explosion.

There was obviously no longer any control among the officers all of whom had by now pretty much given into the mob mentality and were running around in a state of panic shooting blindly everywhere while only hitting other officers. Then again others were too busy to panic as they were rolling screaming around trying to put out the fires eating away at their flesh. Truly it was scenery worthy of the most inner circles of hell, but the cops troubles, it seemed, were yet far from over.

From inside the wreckage of the helicopter crawled out the miraculously unscathed body of Zeruel with the surrounding fires being reflected off of his eyes and the blood clotting on his face lending him a truly demonic appearance. As a flash of the whites of his teeth showed his satisfaction with the sight before him he, ignoring the buzzing of bullets as they flew by his ears, slowly reached up towards one of the chopper’s still attached rotors. With ease he broke the rotor off at its stem holding it up in front of him while admiring it for a few seconds. His head then quickly turned towards left and with one quick swing of his newly fashioned weapon he parted the heads and the lower bodies of a dozen panicked cops. He was about to take another swing and decrease the city’s cop population even further when out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a light being reflected off of something metallic.

Turning he noticed that one of the cops had collected himself enough to pick up the bazooka left behind by the clown-cop and was messing around with it trying to figure out how to fire it. Seeing that the bazooka’s intended target had found him out the cop panicked putting the bazooka on his shoulder pointing it at the demon while desperately pushing and pulling every knob, trigger and button he found on the thing. The demon wasted no time; grabbing the middle of the helicopter rotor he sent it flying as a spear towards the cop piercing him and several others before he could find the right button. Looking for a new weapon Zeruel saw that there were no other rotors still attached to the helicopter so he tore out one of the choppers side door using it as a Frisbee to decapitate a few more cops.

Having gotten bored from using the pieces of the helicopter as a weapon the demon decided on a new more creative approach as he grabbed the nearest cop and tore off his left arm. He then looked around patiently choosing a challenging target and upon finding him, after a little while, he sent the arm spearing forward towards it. The arm-spear easily pierced the back of the targets head with half of it exiting out of its face leaving behind something of an abstract art piece. He then tore of a leg from the still screaming cop to satisfy his curiosity about which made a better weapon, a foot or an arm? His question was answered as the foot pierced trough the chest of two cops clearly making it the superior choice.

Continuing with this Zeruel finally ran out of limbs on the cop and after killing a few other cops by flinging the screaming torso at them Francis spoke, “Thank god the reading of all those volumes of Berserk has numbed me from Ultra violence or there would be a very good chance that I would find some of this kind of disturbing. Well, there is only a dozen or so cops left alive so what say you we make a short process of them and get going?”. With this Zeruel using his demonic powers lifted what remained of the burning fuselage of the chopper and used it as a bat to make a pretty messy end of several of the surviving cops before flinging it at the tree last remaining ones crushing their bodies against the opposing wall while clearly enjoying the sounds their bones made being crushed.

Francis looked around asking, “Where the hell is that Fairy gone off to, I wanna get the hell out of here before any more show up. This whole massacre thing is getting kind of boring; I mean you can only kill a person in so many ways before it starts to get repetitive.”.

With this he spotted the fairy on the ground by one of the corpses with his head deep inside a huge opening on the body. It was the kind grizzly sight one might expect to meet when the flipping through channels lands you on the spectacle of a lion munching happily into the open belly of newly felled baby gazelle on Animal Planet. Francis approaching the Fairy with a slight look disgust started saying, “A… ar… are you feasting on the insides of that man like some kind of crazed mental patient?”

The Fairy took out his blood smeared head and said while still chewing, “Ye… (chew, chew, chew… swallow) Yeah, fresh human flesh is a delicacy among us fairies and some other races in our world and using my powers to manifest your demon sure has made me hungry.”

Francis continued with a confused look on his face, “So, this eating a human thing. This doesn’t happen very often does it?”.

The Fairy replied, “Myah…. I wouldn’t exactly call it often. Oh I know! You know how every year hundreds of kids disappear around the world without a trace or explanation?”.

Francis, “Uh, yeah sure that sounds about right.”.

The Fairy with a smile on his face, “That’s us. We take them. You see, we prefer children’s meat but we also take the occasional adult. However, this is a delicacy reserved only for a select few as the taking of any more will raise peoples suspicion. In fact we signed the alliance treaty with the Bolongs because we were promised as much human meat as we could eat when the war is won.

Francis giving the Fairy an indifferent look on his face said, “Yeah, sure, I can dig that as long as it is not me being eaten.”

The fairy digging his head into the carcass again replied, “There you go, it is perfectly natural. Now come on, dig in. I bet using all those demonic powers has left you mighty hungry.”

Francis started saying, “Ehhhhhh, no thanks. I prefer meat of a more traditional variety li…”. About here Francis noticed that the demon was slowly bending forward towards the carcass and there was little doubt in the Francis’s mind about its intent. Francis’s protests fell on a deaf ear as the hungry demon tore off an arm like people tear off a drumstick from a chicken and started to bite into it. Francis continued voicing his dismay saying, “Oh god no. No, no, no please no. At least cook it on the flames over there before eating it you brute. We don’t know where it has been. You are going to give me worms…… Eh? Mmmmmmm, tastes like chicken!”.

(That is it for today. Tune in tomorrow as the fight continues with the arrival of the military)

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