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I was sweating bullets, the night air cool on my folds. I had exactly 10.45 seconds on me before my hearthstone turn ended. My hand instinctively reached for my Mtn. Dew. I had promised myself i'd quit the stuff... Im not a very good liar. With shaking hands i unscrewed the lid, took a big draft and hit Fireblast. The click echoed through the empty room like the tolling of a funeral bell. As i watched his Hit Points drain, i swigged the rest of the Dew. The night was just beginning.
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Sep 4, 2014 22:48
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| # ¿ May 22, 2024 04:37 |
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I knew the guy was trouble. It wasn't the scars or the face that looked like he had headbutted a belt sander. It was the tire iron in his hand that he wielded like Sephiroth wields his muramasa blade. Rollingstone, #9 with a slight crack and a dirty looking handle. I looked into his eyes but i couldn't distinguish the emotion he was trying to exhibit. I felt a bead of anxiety sweat roll down my third chin on the left side of my face. I would need all of my meowing skills to walk out of this with my honor intact. BombiTheZombie fucked around with this message at 13:39 on Sep 5, 2014 |
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Sep 5, 2014 13:36
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this is the dumbest thing ive seen all year. holy loving poo poo
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Sep 8, 2014 20:09
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