The Chronicals of Mash Island | HALF SIDECasket 1:
A giant blue mountain stood far from the front blurring in the spreading mist. The bright orange grass called to the small furry animals to eat its juicy tasteness. the bright orange grasslands were the healthiest, where most animals feed their familys and friends climbing through the bright yellow trees and jumping deap down into burrows.
There was a leap, Munch sored out from behind a flowing waterfall, of healthy blue water streaming down into the ocean. Clivinga River, the cleanest on Mash Island. Clivinga River was placed in a great area, Oaf-Crumb Valley. The home of the tallest trees and widest landscapes and a place where food is always found in the corner of your eye. A few miles north you would find a large village filled with familys and television.
The grass moved slightly as Munch landed, dripping only one drop of water onto a lighter blue pebble in the grass. He swiftly spun his head around, frowned and then sored through a large orange bush. This was not an ordinary bush, this was the Oaf-Flooarp Berry Bush. Munch felt his arms stick and tried to pull them forwards. "Agg!" He cried and pulled much harder, he could see outside the bush now, he tugged and pulled and finally the Green slime let him go. He fell forwards onto the grass, quickly got up and jumped off. The liquid stretched and plunged back into the bush causing some quite light leaves to fall to the ground.
Upon the hill as Munch kept running he came to it, A Rilad Bobble. A giant red egg full of Green- Juice. A Bobble was very good feed, really quite rare. This is mainly because a person, or creature must catch it first. Munch licked his lips and jumped towards it, throwing his arms out, "Gottcha!" He cried and collapsed onto the ground. The Bobble flattened and then shot off into the air, he then landed a little further away and kept bouncing. "OI! Not fair!"
Munch shot up and started running towards it, "Come ere you!" A thousand steps a second, Munch shot across the grass land burning the ground behind him. His face became hot and he tripped. Fell onto a rock, tripped again, rolled and landed flat on his face.
The Bobble fell off a cliff and cracked open at the bottom. Munch crept up and leaned over the edge, his scarf blowing in the wind.
It had splattered into two, leaving a sort of Bowl, full up with Green- Juice. "Goldpot!"
Munch lept down and landed onto the sand. He stared up and sighted something he never thought he'd see. Mash Island, Half Side. The place was deserted, there was a crater not far up and dead trees as far as he could see. He grabbed the bobble and ran back up the cliff. Casket 2.
A firefly flew slowly over the Half side exploring its landscapes, its dead bushes, burnt brances and eaten away plants. Its coiled sands and grundgy soil. It swirved downwards and curled into a different direction, heading towards a little more healthier part of the island.
Munch sat in the high orange grass slurping down Bobble Green- juice. He held it up slowly letting it streak down his neck, drip onto his chin and scarf. Then he drifted it down to his lap and stared into its hollowness. He then chomped a bit of the Bobble off the side squirting some more Green- juices amongst him.
There was a rustle in the bushes. Munch stunned, stopped, dropped the left over Bobble and stood up in speed. He clicked his eyes forwards at the bushs listening carefully.
The Bobble rolled into a small bush and disapeared for the moment. A second rustle and Munch, for the first time walked slowly, closer to it. Kishka appeared through the bush frightening Munch. Kishka was remarkebly tall, he had a crossed coat on and white fluffy hair. His eyes were quite squinted but his big smile made up for it.
"Munch? Catching Bobbles i see. You won't get much by hand." Munch stared to Kishka's side seeing him swerve his hand over a Paskon Blade, Home made on Mash Island. He smiled.
"Yes, quite," Munch answered wiping the juices off his scarf and pale coat. "Training tonight then master?" he asked.
Kishka turned and smiled. "Your up with the best Munchy boy. Your up with the best."
Munch quickly straightened up and wondered of what would be the fight he would have to perform that night and of which fighter he would once again, win against.
"Cajun," said Kishka.
There was silence, nothing but the birds in the trees. Munch stood there, breathing heavilly. "C..Cajun? Well.. thats fine, ok thankyou Master." they both bowed, waving their hands abouts and bending their spine. Kishka swirved and walked back into the bushes. "Cajun..."Munch mumbled to himself, he sat down beside the river and sighed. "Cajun." He picked up a nearby stone and threw it in the water, There was a droplet and water sprayed upwards leaving nothing but a few drifting ripples. Casket 3.
"Bonjour Les messieurs, j'aimerais parler à Kishka," Cajun walked in, fire whipped around his wrists and long black cloak dragging behind him, creases waving like the sea as he stepped up to one of the gaurds. The Guard, a high man in a dark blue suit, covered in badges and blue hair assisted Cajun. He smirked and said, "Sorry i do not understand Italian.
Cajun frowned quickly and sharpley. "It is French vous l'idiot!" Cajun grabbed under his coat a long sharp sword, he pulled it out and shot it towards the Guards face, it stayed there, stunned as Cajun held it up. It glimmered in the light and was very sharp. The end was slowly japping at the Guards chin. "I am sorry....," he cried. Cajun stared down at the mans badge. "Votre pas très bonne sécurité," Cajun mumbled to himself. The Guard was very frightened, he was shaking there, trying to hold himself up, if he had fallen the blade would have gone straight through his jaw.
Cajun pulled back the sword from the mans face and threw it to his side. The man crumpled to the floor. "Now tell me où Master Kishka is!"
The Guard was still shaking on the floor, a slow pure droplet of blood fell from a cut on his chin. "K..k...ishka..., Kishka is in the Lamton Sofa Room...m.. Master.."
Cajun smiled, his jet black hair, shot as it was blew slightly in the wind. "Thankyou, we will meet again, hopefully anyway. I rather enjoyed notre little talk." Cajun smiled once again, creasing the black drips under his eyes. "vous voir plus tard alors," Cajun walked off, his white boots clattered on the tiles, and a slight glimmer of his sword through his cloak.
The Guard got up slowly leaning back against the brick wall.
The door slid open, catching a dark character behind it, appearing through the light. Kishka sat on a small Blood red lounge sipping downa Green- Juice, Latte. Cajun stepped in, closed the door behind him and walked closer to the sofa. Once then, he stopped and stared at Kishka. He sipped very loudly, echoing all around the room, calling as if were in pain. "Maître." Cajun bowed, waving his arms abouts a bit. Creating circles in the air around him. Kishka nodded. "Lord Cajun, you return."
Cajun stared as Kishka carefully put the cup of Green- juice onto the little side table next to the sofa.
"So its Master Munch is it?.. HA!" Cajun laughed, showing his white teeth.. but not all white, there was a shine of blood clearing up on his back teeth.
"You must not laugh Lord, he has now accomplished skills i think even you have not."
"Le chargement de Cripe," mumbled Cajun again. Kishka frowned.
"Well, the fight is tonight. Must i must tell you THIS! It must not get out of hand because of other times!" Kishka croaked, picking up his drink once again. Cajun sighed. "If anything did, Kishka, it would be Munch's fault." Kishka frowned once again and slurped down some more Green- juice. Cajun smiled once again. Kishka stared over to him. "Your staying at the lonely- Oaf tonight, they are the only people who would take you in, and i even had to pay them a bit to do so." Kishka swallowed and grabbed a chunk of wood from inside his jacket. "This is your key, to your room," Kishka stood up, threw it to Cajun. A light sparked the room as he threw his arm to catch it. "oui, i will be off now."
Kishka nodded once again and Cajun drifted out of the Lamton Sofa Room. Casket 4.
The breeze bellowed across the Pebble Blue mountains east on Mash Island. A small Wine Bird sat on a tree branch scratching its feathers. Its plump body drooped down over it's tiny white feet and beak pecking down upon the flees in its hair. It trapped them quickly and then threw them off behind of it. It smirked as it bent over trying to get some air, sucking it in fiercely.
*Slice* There was a spark as a small but very sharp Paskon Blade shot across the area fell, dicing the branch and all that it held on it. The bird very quickly because of its lump of a body fell, it flapped its small wings faster and faster, Light purple feathers spun in the air as it moved slowly upwards. The turnip shaped bird flew off into the dull light crossing the moons light as it passed.
The blade flew downwards and came into Munch's grasp, he closed his fist and started at the wondrous piece of metal. Arkknight Wind, metal of a warrior. He smiled and slid it away, out of sight. He stepped onto a Flofpegg, a rare kind of moss only found in the Pebble Rich East of Mash Island. It squeaked loudly, shook around scuffing tiny specs of green everywhere amongst him. "Pests..," Lord Lord Lord Munch mumbled, he lifted his foot higher until he couldn't lift it anymore. Then in a split second he dropped it crushing the Flofpegg, squirting purple blobs across the orange grasslands. He smiled once again. He straightened up and wiped the moss off of his trouser legs.
Munch had his favourite spot, or to be exact, his home. Oaf-Crumb Valley where the Water is the healthiest and the fall keeps on sprinkling. The sun is as light as it could ever be and the Grass is fluttered with plants of all shapes, sizes and colours only noticeable by an Artist.
He leant down upon the ledge or grass, rested in such a comfortable position. A Rainbow Berry flower grew right beside him, he could see at that very moment the wonder of it, as its petal’s enhanced and glowing beads of berries shimmer and circle around the green stem.
Cajun stood on the ledge of the lonely- Oaf bar and hotel. "Je gagnerai Munch, je gagnerai Munch," Cajun said, starring out at the Half Side. Its dead trees did not wave at all in the wind. The just stood there, dead.
The day became night slowly, the sky turned from violet to pitch black. Cajun sat on an arm chair gazing at his two long blades sitting in his suitcase. "I'f i do not win, i am a stranger to myself." He clenched his fists tightly, crinkling the arms of the chair.
The door knocked and swung open. There was no one there. Cajun was surprised and stood up, in seconds the blades disappeared from his suitcase and appeared in his hands. "Bonjour? Is anybody there?" He stepped slowly through the open door and stared around the room. Then suddenly two men appeared falling from the ceiling with black scruffy hoods on. One pulled up his fist ready for a strike. Cajun just stood there, holding his guard. "You been mugged mate," One said. "Thump him and we'll check out his room yeh?" he said to the other. The other one nodded and shot his fist for Cajun's head. Lightening shook the hallway of the Lonely-Oaf suddenly, Cajun ducked and through his hands backwards, grabbing both swords from behind. His arms flew forwards slicing. Blood hit the sides of the hall. Cajun swung again, slicing once another. the thieves shot across the hall, collapsing to the fall and sliding down firmly bleeding onto the long striped map that went the whole way around the building. Cajun smiled, "Thank you for your services gentlemen, but i do not want you taking my things," He slammed the room door behind him and there was silence.
Two bloodshed thieves lay on the hallway floor choking in amazement. Their eyes shone upwards helpless in all courses. A tear fell from one of their eyes as they slumped down. One stumbled; he leaned up slowly trying not to cause too much pain. He felt uncomfortable, not only because he had just been meated by a Warrior but because there was something in his pocket. He slowly put his hand in and twitched. A pack of cards sat in his hand, he blubbered firing blood across the room. "T..these w..ernt here before?" He was shaking staring at the pack. The other man just collapsed and sniffed. He turned the pack over staring at the spades. There, written in glowing human blood was,
*Next time, it'll be an ACE. Cajun* Casket 5.
Green-juice dribbled slowly into the rock coated mug, it was freezing cold, droping into the darkness within. Cajun lifted the cup up and stared in. "Que ? Is ceci quelques-uns kind of joke?" He stared once again. "Is this the only drink you have on this petit island?" The bar man shook his head, his hair was the worst you'd ever see, cobwebs collapsed off it, dust crafted a little cloud amongst them. The big man at the bar sniffed, wiping his hair back pretending it was clean, "You.. Yah what? You do know we have the Biff in a can?" He shook his head and sniffed again. "Croaking good booze it is, Mud mized with the Fizziest Emes of the Island." Cajun shuddered and sneered. The black paint under his eyes slowly drooped. "Emes? What is ceci Le poison ?" He pulled his cloak up towards him.
"Sparking bugs, touch ya and your insides shake all at once. I tried the Biff once, it really shocks you, like, like... an electric shock." The bar man shivered and bend over on the counter. Cajun sighed and stared over to a juke box. He threw his fist at the counter and said, "Right, me donner some Biff!" The barman smiled, licked his lips and said, "Right you are my son." He swirved around and moved along the side. "A can?"
Cajun stared over to the Barman wiping his hair back again, his greesy hair. "Two thankyou." He smiled lowering his face as the room went silent. The barman turned around wipeing a glass with a white velvet cloth. "Yah what? Son, you do realize more than one glass of Biff and your body may not be able to handle its spark? You may, die."
Cajun smiled once again and layed both hands onto the counter, flames ripping up his wrists. "Why did you offer then? Do you want me dead?" Cajun leaned over and threw his arm out grabbing the barmans sweater. He help him up slowly. Everyone stared in astonishment. "N...no," the barman shriecked inside. Cajun let him down slowly. Cajun smiled again, "So... One Biff in a can please." The bar man flopped over the counter, shriecked and straightened up. The dust piled around. "c..coming up."
The man settled a violet coloured can onto the counter. It shook, moving around like there was something inside. "spectaculaire," Cajun grinned and shot his hand for it, he grasped it, and sipped it down. Straight away his pupils widened but nothing else. "merci," he said joyed. "another..."
The man sighed, clicked open another biff and handed it to Cajun. He slurped it down, glugging, coiling liquids into his body. Sparking and lighting. Nothing. "Another," he said smiling. The barman's jaw dropped. Cajun giggled, "I'f i am going to win against Master Munch and start a Chronical War on Mash Island i'm aller à need a few more cans."
"Chronical War?" A women with a long pickled nose, rocking on her chair whispered into his ear. Cajun laughed, "Don't worry, you'll be dead by then."
The women choked.Casket 6.
The door was small, just the right size for a gnome, or Munch. It was dark brown and shredded with thousands of slight splinters sticking from left to right. A small shadow walked upon it, there stood a boy, clear white eyes and bright green and white scarf blowing in the sea winds. The closer to the sea a person is the windier it would be. His blond hair scuffed out of its usual spiked placement as night grew dark and the sky gods would blind us, of something they were combining or mischief they were sorting. The clouds drifted apart firing only darkness onto the core of Mash Island.
Munch stood at the front door, a sign on his left reading "Cralwing's Weaponry, the finest on the whole of Mash Island." It was a tall sign, and like the door splintered to the rim.
He blinked, stared around securing himself from possible spies. All in his view was dark purple bushes that had an hour ago, been bright orange figures. The view of it was still beautiful, they all glowed with interest as if they were all Individuals. He turned once again staring once at the dark misty stripped door. He slowly lifted his arm and knocked twice.
"Alright coming! Who the ruddy well is it at this time of night?" The door swung open showing a tiny little man, really quite plump with a long furry white beard hanging off his face. The mans eyes widened as he stared out the door. "Munch? me old Fo!" He was started and hugged Munch, patting each other on the backs. Munch smiled, held his scarf forward and closed the big wooden door behind him.
"How you been keepin yourself Blupor Cralwing?" Munch laughed, paused and then stared down at Blupor.
He stood there, greasy smile and very chubby gut. "I told you to keep off the Wklubber," Munch frowned. "Start eating healthy things, dried Green- juice?" Blupor started mildly upon Munch.
"Ok, i been having some lately! But its doing nothing to me? I'm not much bigger than before am i?" Munch stared again, wondering.
"Thats a point, its made you shorter too..." Munch giggled, straightened up and then stared seriously. Blupor, frustrated leapt towards a stuffed lounge, settled himself down and mumbled, "Now, what have you come here for Munch?" He frowned and stretched his arm to a fridge, which was strangely placed right next to the lounge.
Munch turned to see him pull out a giant plate, on it was a large slimy piece of meat. "Blupor......... Wklubber........." Blupor looked up; he ripped off a thick slimy leg and placed the plate back into the fridge. "I'm sorry but it’s so delicious." Munch sighed and went on, "Look I’m not to care about this at the moment, i have revenge to settle tonight. I need your sharpest, shiniest Paskon blade and best ranged Bow and arrows." He smiled, conceiving his large white teeth, soon to be knocked out in a blow by a seriously mad Frenchmen. Blupor placed the plate onto his light blue stained rug and walked over to a stand. "I've been waiting for this day," he pointed towards one of rusty blades collected amongst the wall of many others. Munch frowned, "I want a professional one, not a rusty one like them Blupor!" Blupor nodded once then pointed again, "Pull out that last one."
Munch tugged at the sword, swerved it outward and stabbed it into the wooden floor. The stand that once stood many rusty Paskon blades shifted, slowly upwards. It tilted and a part of the ceiling opened up. The ground beneath expanded and started moving upwards taking Blupor and Munch up with it. The Stand shot upwards from the floor, the ceiling closed up and there was silence. Just an empty shop.
"Wow," Munch, with wondrous eyes stared in a room he would never had guessed even existed. Shelves and shelves of sparkling Blades, glimmering the room, stone walls sparkled as knifes and bows stood upright on their stone stands. Metal armour and cloaks that enlightened even the Kings. He choked, swallowed and smiled. "You got all this in a small shop in the centre of a tiny island?" Munch giggled, stared around once again. For a moment he decided he was dreaming, closed his eyes and then opened them. Still the same spectacular place. Blupor gleefully smiled, "All hand made, and all made of diamond," He patted Munch on the back and started walking around mumbling to himself. He then stopped, turned around and said, "It'll cost you. Big Beaks," He suddenly turned serious, staring Munch in the eye. Munch startled, stared back and said, "I only have two!" Munch's eyes widened.
"That will only buy you one Diamond Paskon Blade, i am sorry," Bludor, chuffed with himself moved over to one of the shelves. "One Beak more would have gotten you a bow and fifteen arrows," he swerved, a twinkle in his eye. Munch smiled.
"Right, well I’ll be off to catch some more." Blupor giggled and walked over to a metal latch sticking out of the wall. "Right, well come back then." He pulled it and they both moved back up to the shop.
The wind shook the shop slightly and Munch stepped out of the building. "I'll be back in a few secs, keep it ready for me!" He walked off into the silent night, step by step on the cool, smooth grass.
Blupor slammed the door and walked back over to his chair. He settled once again and grabbed the Wklubber leg from the rug. "He won't stop me eating this junk, something else'll kill me before this does," He chewed on it and stretched the flesh, swallowing it well fed. The shop went silent as he was eating the meat, then suddenly a knock on the door. Blupor stood up, dropping the red bone onto the dirt rug once again. "I'm not eating it Munch! I'm not!" He walked over to the door, there was another knock. "Look, i gotta unlock it first you Bombo!" Another knock. Blupor unlocked the lock and swung open the door. "Bonjour"
There was a flash of light and the small chubby man fell to the floor startled. A shadow swept over him, Cajun. He slowly walked over to the weaponry, staring delightfully. He smiled and started grabbing the gear, bows, swords, blades and knives falling into the pockets Cajun. Never ending pockets, fitting everything he placed in them. In stopped stared for any other items. None, he had taken all.
Cajun walked over the bled Mr. Cralwing. His body lay sliced in half. Blood puddled the room, Cajuns stepped once and twice splashing the liquid into the air, he swung his arm out, with a unique finger movement. Releasing a card, floating carefully onto the body, a card of ACE.
He swept away into the night, polite as he was closing the door behind him. The night was now pitch and the battle was about to begin.Casket 7.
Munch, with eyes of an Eagle jumped into a Tweeplant, a rascal of nature. When a small helpless creature would scatter past it, it would fire out a splat of poison, stunning the animal, soon blinding it. Afterwards the branches would reach out and pull the body in. Munch listened carefully. He sighted a firefly eating at a flofpegg, pulling small bits of moss off of it. The grass was swaying, as it slowly got windier as it got later. Something not so rare, something almost everyone on the island knew about. Somewhere under the flofpegg, deep underneath, down in the roots, where they crossed and swayed binding into each other creating an underground basket. In this basket was one the most valuable things found on this earth. A Beak, a golden nugget shaped like a soaring forest bird.
Munch struggled as the Tweeplant was a little harder to escape than an ordinary Flooarp berry bush. The braches started binding around him, moving around blurred at the corner of his eye. They were moving, reaching for him. The end of the stem split open, showing a red stem expanding ready to fire poison. Munch ducked, the poison released and shot over his hair. He leapt upwards lifting his legs. The stem shot another gallon of red poison. It slit the bottom of his shoe and hit some stems behind. It shot again, then again with different stems splitting open. Munch tossed and ducked to every splodge. Each collection of liquid missed and fired back at itself. Munch noticed the weak spot where it had injured itself and jumped out. As soon as he landed on the dark grass and stared back. The Tweeplant caved in on itself, crushing the stems and releasing millions of poison onto the grasslands. Munch rolled over into another bush. Loads of small pieces of grass stuck into his jacket.
The firefly was now still circling the Flofpegg, and then at a sudden movement went in for a feed. There was a bird cry near by, Munch turned. He stared around to see where it had come from. He turned back to check on his pray. It had gone, The Flofpegg, a mere piece of grass had lifted itself upwards and was crawling away on 40 root legs. Step by step crushing the grass below him. Because of the darkness Munch had trouble seeing where it had gone, he ran forwards tripping up on a long log and falling again. In a quick shot he had leapt up and started running again. The small scowling piece of moss was fast, faster than any other creature. Its advantage was the two biting claws that had grown after watching the firefly come upon him. As they both ran Munch watched as tiny dead wings flew off those two claws.
Munch jumped, flying across the moonlight. A tree came closer to him; he swung around and clipped it with his feet bouncing in an opposite direction towards the Flofpegg again. He fell, flying through time and space with no direction of existence. Then he landed on the flofpegg.
Splat, it struggled around gasping for air moving from right to left. This kind of thing gave Munch wisdom and strength. He always said to himself whenever he had lost a battle, “Munch, I bet this guy couldn’t grab a flofpegg by hand.” In the early days when Beaks had first become a currency, the pound note was given for resources, and change was given in Beaks. From then on slowly every family gained Beaks and slowly their pounds disappeared. Shopkeepers would have to move to Britain now to spend it of course.
Munch threw his gripping hand towards 20 of the fidgeting forty, small flofpegg legs and pulled them up. He then grabbed onto 20 more and they both collapsed onto the sand, clouding dust around them. Munch laughed under his breath still pushing down the Flofpegg. Then he shuddered, “This is the bit I don’t like too much.” He pulled out from behind his back a small sharp Paskon Blade.
He swung it forwards slicing the flofpegg in two. Blood shot across the ground and splattered alongside the plants and trees.
Cajun wondered through the dark forests, stepping on oranges and creatures to be seen only by a magnify glass. He stared around for a place to prepare. There amongst some ordinary berry bush’s shone a light. Cajun squinted to work out what it was and staring aimlessly. He saw an outline of wings and the shape of a woman. He walked closer, eyes changing from blood red to quite white.
“Talon?” The wings were not of fluff and feathers but long sharp claws spitting out of her neck. She landed onto the grass, the light burned away and she smiled. “Cajun, darling.” They both ran holding each other tightly hugging. They released and smiled.
Talon’s hair blew in the wind, her sun glasses reflecting settled on her forehead. She moved and kissed him, then stood back. Cajun looked confused, “What are you doing here my love? This is not your home; this is a petit island in which I am planting war.” He smiled cheekily and asked her to sit. Her clothes were wet, like she had recently had a deep swim in the Ornan Rivers, A river of pure zombie fluids. A normal human would become undead at the first step. But she was not normal, an angel brought back to life.
“Why are you doing this Cajun? Why are you setting out to cause destruction behind my back?” Cajun shuddered and turned quietly.
“C'est amusant,” he wondered and lay down under a high tree. It started to rain, water droplets falling from the sky and exploding on Cajun and Talons heads. Talon smiled, “I love you.” Cajun’s eyes widened then. Then suddenly a thought came to his head, was Talon the only person that actually made him feel calm? Not so, violent and destructive. “You’d better go Talon, you may be a weakness,” Talon frowned and moved closer to him crawling over his legs. The giant wings standing out of her back rustled the trees above causing purple leaves to fall.
“Cajun,” she whispered into his ear. “When you rule the world, can you call a country after me?” She smiled and moved her fingers through his hair. Cajun happy again that she was on his side moved slightly upwards and said, “oui.”
The rain pored for an hour, Munch shot across the dark grasslands with a bag in his right hand swinging from side to side. The glow of the Beak inside the bag showed the way in front of him, he had to make his way back to Blupor’s shop. He jumped, slid and flipped through the forest.
At least a kilometre away there lay a dead flofpegg, its roots shredded and lay amongst the dirt coiled. The basket in which a golden nugget once sat was now empty. Casket 8:
Claws, a sizzle in the sky; a spark and white light flew across the air. A dark red cat landed into a small pond of cold, moonlit water. The ripples expanded, sparkling in the cold wind. The cat shivered and leapt upwards towards a tree branch, throwing her claws out slicing a dark piece of bark. She fell, onto the grass and rolled over, struggling in the night. As she turned she formed magically into a human, lighting up the area as her whiskers disappeared.
She stared slowly to her side when her fur had formed into a ripped t-shirt, a bleeding wound dribbling out of it slowly.
Munch walked aggressively across the scopes with a bag in one hand. Then he heard a wail. A girl, in pain, He stopped and turned towards the sound, blinked and shot off through the blue. Leaves shot over by, Munch’s eyes; pure white sparkled in the darkness. He leapt upwards, grabbed onto a tree branch, tied the bag around his shoulder and fell towards the wounded girl. “Ennel,” he said. “You’re wounded.” She frowned and let her head drop onto the grasses. She died. In her blood wound was a carved ace of spades. “This, that… this is murder.” Munch’s eyes shone red and he fell onto the ground.
Munch opened the door slowly; only too find Blupor lying on the timber floor, dead. Another swerved card lay on his body.
There was a step, a boot. Munch could tell it was coming his way; he ducked, swerved and pulled out his blade. “Hi, I’d like to b..” The man’s head shot against the wall, bouncing and rolling outside. Munch stared down at it, “HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
The madness released. The night got darker and Munch walked slowly towards the Battle Arena, where he would meet Cajun in a fight to the death.
“Hello sir and welcome to the Mash Island Battle Arena, may I ask what your name is?” A small boy with a grey crushed hat stared up at Munch. “HAHA you’re only a Kid!” He started to giggle.
Munch did not approve. He brought out a fist and shot it at the boy. His face exploded breaking every bone; he fell ten feet across the grass and crashed into a tree branch, collapsing onto the dirt.
Munch minded the view and kept on walking, crossing the guards as they were already aware of who they were staring at. The arena was roaring, thousands of people sat in red seats surrounding a pebble shaped stage. Munch stood there, on the stage, his shadowing seeping the grounds. Kishka walked up to him from behind and patted him on the back. His hand grasped Munch’s shoulder, tensing it. “I see Rilad Bobble catching didn’t help ease your tenseness. Do not, and I repeat. Do not let it get out of hand.” Kishka smiled as Munch turned to him.
“You, just enjoy it won’t you,” Munch said sarcastically.
There was, above everything a small side stage covering some of the viewing seats. A man with a cloak and white firing electric shot from his eyes and hands walked on. He held a blood red guitar in his hand. A deep tune was played and straight below him two doors exploded out of their sockets. They landed, crashing onto the floor creating dust and smoke. A silhouette appeared behind, in the shape of Cajun.
He smiled, and then stood straight calming the audience. His cloak swept slowly down. Munch’s face creased as his anger deepened. “You killed my friend, you shamelessly beat me in earlier battles and now… and now I’m gunna get revenge.”
Cajun laughed, “Pas l'inquiétude, le monde entier est condamné.”
A white angel flew over the glass ceiling in the night, glaring for everyone’s wondrous eyes.
The walls started to open up, a room started to emerge, the Lamton Sofa room appeared with Kishka behind glass staring down at the arena sipping some Green juice Latte. The floor slid open below him and a microphone shot up hitting him in the nose. The loud burst of audio shattered across the stadium. “Ahem! Sorry about that ladies and gentlemen. Today we have a special guest, Cajun. He’s French,” Kishka giggled in his chair. “I have a friend who’s a Frenchmen, heh heh.” There was silence, Kishka straightened up, tightening his collar. “But all your really hear for is a true Paskon battle. One you have all paid very dearly for.” The people nodded awaiting the battle. “Well I guess,” He sighed, “It must begin”
There was a giant horn blurting out a loud noise across the arena.
Two men walked up to Cajun and Munch giving them a gleaming Staff. They both placed it below their feet. At once Munch bowed, waving his hands around a bit, slid his toes under the staff and flicked it upwards grabbing it and swinging it around his back. He then stood in a battle stance. Cajun then did the same thing and smiled.