by his feet
The story so far:
He watched in rapturous awe as Naphtalia burned her skin with vigorous movement resembling the flickering of a nervous snakes tongue.
“What are we exactly?” Braven asked Naphtalia.
Grinning she masticated loudly on a mouthful of brimstone and answered, “We are allies of the Dark, currently entrusted with protecting Lady Illbred from her Guardian Angel.”
“Damn it! I hate those damned good-promoting doctors. They will ruin all of our beautiful work.” His memory was thin and his frustration subsided.
Suddenly the lights went out.
“OH NO!”
This meant that the souls would flatuate wildly and decrease the chances of passing through metaspace and into Hell’s rectum. However, enough time remained to stop the horrible return of Gorthon the Agnostic, Keeper of the GODS (Great Order of Dastardly Simians) and CANDY (Creepy Army of Norcoleptic Death Yaks).
Naphtalia activated the exploding fluoride rinse. “Ten seconds til detonation." Braven wet himself with anticipation.
3…2…1… Nothing
“DAMN those imported explosives manufacturer. They never”…BOOM !!!
“Gods be praised!!!” shouted Braven. The souls recoiled beyond the Aurora Borealis. Ending the suppression of Lady Illbred’s Regime of Silliness and Debauchery.
Quickly Naphtalia searched for retractable blades, aware that her burns would never heal sodomized societies of doom in time [to] allow for the construction of great stuff and nonsense.
Meanwhile, Lord Illbred while cackling manically, summoned George Washington's ghost to eat crow souls with mustard and relish . George Washington's ghost refused. Angrily, he smited Lord Illbred and his dastardly demonic literature comedians of Doom and Glory.
"I defy you! Count Chokula!" screeched George as he walked down the aisle with wooden grin, a broken toy discarded by his feet
