Suddenly, your reverie is interrupted. Three large men burst through the door with guns drawn, shouting for filthy human money. They are invading the holy place! You raise the knife and charge, heedless of the crude projectiles that pierce your flesh. Your screams blend with theirs as you cleanse them in gouts of their own blood. But your mortal flesh is not as holy as the fry line that it serves, and your blood pressure falls like the last of the terrified criminals, the fog of unconsciousness closing about you.
The End.
0 comments:
Post a Comment