[Puke]

a dead calm falls over the scene. patrons eye each other with fear and malice, llama henchmen and aquatic minions (Dogscoff is here for this, isnt he?) cast watchfull glares at each other, over the sights of their heavy weapons.

a faint drumming is heard in the distance, which grows louder as Puke holds high the mucky plunger of the slain sewer-god. Chanting becomes audible as an army of Loo-Worshipers peer from out of the crack of the water closet door. Seeing the one that wields the scepter of command, they fall silent and await the comming battle.

as the drumming dies off, and the gibbering of the Loo-Worshipers drops to sub-audible levels, scores of line-dancing high-kicking GHB-miniturized FBWs from the Last clone war come streaming out of a small door at the end of the bar. As they dance across the bar, they each fill and carry a shotglass to their master and creator.

With the Loo-Worshipers behind him, and a phalanx of cloned GHB-miniturized line-dancing FBWs in front of him, Puke continues to hold high the Plunger of command as he slams back the first of the long line of shots prepared infront of him. as he pounds the empty shotglass upside-down on the table, the cantina is once again silent.

edit: 1985, 15 to go

[ December 29, 2002, 23:07: Message edited by: Puke ]