darklordbob
2007-11-08, 10:52 PM
I know most people here prefer sillier things, but I figured I'd just see what you guys though of it. Criticize me much, please!
The man with one arm had teeth like knives… large and sharp. His nose was thin and pointed downwards, like a sharp beak. His blue eyes were like saucers, so large they seemed to draw you in. His smile was inviting, but this was not a nice man. This was a bad man. I had known that this man was evil the moment I saw him, even before he said, “Allo, Lutziferr! I ahm efraid I must errest yoo…”
This man’s accent was strange, and a little hard to understand, but the message was clear. He wanted to arrest me, or at least, arrest ‘Lucifer.’
“How did you lose your arm?” I asked. This man with one arm wore a burgundy shirt with ruffles at the sleeve of his right, and only, arm. His white glove was ruffled as well, and the collar of his shirt was very high, even more so for this man had a long neck, not inhumanly long, but still long. His pants were black and looked a little too large, held on by a black belt with a silver buckle. White socks that rose to his knees were pulled over the top of his pant legs. His shoes were black leather. Where another sleeve, as well as another arm, should have been, was only a silver shoulder guard in the shape of a skull. He wore a broach that was a beautiful opal enshrined in gold. The tip of his middle finger stuck into his mouth, pushing his bottom lip down and giving him an amused, quizzical look. He had golden blond hair that was neither long nor short, but somewhere inbetween in some strange length that just seemed to fit this man perfectly.
“Allo! Air yoo note lizzening? Yoo air oonder errest!”
“What happened to your arm?”
“Zilly Lutziferr! Do yoo note care?”
“My name isn’t Lucifer, and I am nothing like Lucifer. You have the wrong man. I am not under arrest. Where’s your arm?”
“Goatdemmet! Yoo air Lutziferr! Yoo air oonder errest! Ennywase, yoo werr derr when I loast my ahrm! Eet wahs yer folt!”
“I have never met you before, strange man. Do you even have legal authority to arrest me? What are the charges?”
“I do note haff to tell zuch tings to yoo!”
He was biting his finger, getting irritated with me. Apparently he had expected this to go much more smoothly. I was beginning to get worried. This man could be dangerous. I eyed my surroundings. I was at work, Orange Julius, so there were blenders and juices, and various food prep stuffs on my side of the counter. If this strange man was anywhere as agile as he looked, and he looked very agile, getting onto my side of the counter and dodging a few blenders would be easy for him. Besides, he only had one arm, so it would probably be stronger than the right arm of your average person. Not to mention that I wasn’t very tough, so his one arm was probably stronger than both mine. If worse came to worse, I could always stab him with one of the knives we had, but if he was a government employee here to arrest me, though I highly doubted it, that would be a very stupid move on my part. But if he was a crazy person, like I thought, I couldn’t just turn myself in to him. And he obviously wasn’t going to give me any proof of employment. Well, this was a lose/lose situation, so, what the hell, I figured I’d just make it worse.
“Then piss off. When you show me proof of your authority to do so, you can arrest me. Until then, go away and let me do my job.” I hadn’t been very happy lately. In fact, quite the opposite. I was not in the mood for this kind of ****.
“Roang moof!” He pulled his finger from his mouth, twirled his hand dramatically a bit, and suddenly there was a long, thickish, needle. He threw it. Now, I watch a lot of anime, because, well, I’m a nerd, and I will be the first to say that the move this mother fool pulled off only belonged in an anime.
The needle pierced through the left lens of my glasses and stuck into the pupil of my eye. My glasses hadn’t even budged. The lens had cracked to ****, but the glasses didn’t move. However, my left eye was now even more useless than when I wasn’t wearing glasses, and was ruining my wonderful, lime-green, monstrosity of a shirt with my blood. I wasn’t bleeding a ridiculous amount, and it wasn’t spraying, but I was bleeding fast, and it ran down my face and neck till it was staining the collar of my ugly shirt. However, I didn’t really notice at the time, because I was screaming in pain, and I was also busy doing something very stupid, yet excusable.
When a part of you is in pain, especially sever, sudden pain, your first reaction will be, in most cases, to hold it or cover it if your face is bleeding or something like that. My hand rushed to my eye before my brain had the time to realize just what was going to happen. It shoved it in farther, exacerbating my pain, and making the bleeding worse.
The man did just what I was thinking he would, and grabbed the see-through plastic sneeze guard thing on his end of the counter, and used it to do a flip into my side of the counter. He also managed to land a kick on top of my head. It hurt.
Now holding my hand over my gaping, screaming mouth, I, who had been knocked onto the floor by the kick, slid into a corner near the cash register, afraid for my life. He looked down at me smiling, and holding a fistful of needles.
The man with one arm had teeth like knives… large and sharp. His nose was thin and pointed downwards, like a sharp beak. His blue eyes were like saucers, so large they seemed to draw you in. His smile was inviting, but this was not a nice man. This was a bad man. I had known that this man was evil the moment I saw him, even before he said, “Allo, Lutziferr! I ahm efraid I must errest yoo…”
This man’s accent was strange, and a little hard to understand, but the message was clear. He wanted to arrest me, or at least, arrest ‘Lucifer.’
“How did you lose your arm?” I asked. This man with one arm wore a burgundy shirt with ruffles at the sleeve of his right, and only, arm. His white glove was ruffled as well, and the collar of his shirt was very high, even more so for this man had a long neck, not inhumanly long, but still long. His pants were black and looked a little too large, held on by a black belt with a silver buckle. White socks that rose to his knees were pulled over the top of his pant legs. His shoes were black leather. Where another sleeve, as well as another arm, should have been, was only a silver shoulder guard in the shape of a skull. He wore a broach that was a beautiful opal enshrined in gold. The tip of his middle finger stuck into his mouth, pushing his bottom lip down and giving him an amused, quizzical look. He had golden blond hair that was neither long nor short, but somewhere inbetween in some strange length that just seemed to fit this man perfectly.
“Allo! Air yoo note lizzening? Yoo air oonder errest!”
“What happened to your arm?”
“Zilly Lutziferr! Do yoo note care?”
“My name isn’t Lucifer, and I am nothing like Lucifer. You have the wrong man. I am not under arrest. Where’s your arm?”
“Goatdemmet! Yoo air Lutziferr! Yoo air oonder errest! Ennywase, yoo werr derr when I loast my ahrm! Eet wahs yer folt!”
“I have never met you before, strange man. Do you even have legal authority to arrest me? What are the charges?”
“I do note haff to tell zuch tings to yoo!”
He was biting his finger, getting irritated with me. Apparently he had expected this to go much more smoothly. I was beginning to get worried. This man could be dangerous. I eyed my surroundings. I was at work, Orange Julius, so there were blenders and juices, and various food prep stuffs on my side of the counter. If this strange man was anywhere as agile as he looked, and he looked very agile, getting onto my side of the counter and dodging a few blenders would be easy for him. Besides, he only had one arm, so it would probably be stronger than the right arm of your average person. Not to mention that I wasn’t very tough, so his one arm was probably stronger than both mine. If worse came to worse, I could always stab him with one of the knives we had, but if he was a government employee here to arrest me, though I highly doubted it, that would be a very stupid move on my part. But if he was a crazy person, like I thought, I couldn’t just turn myself in to him. And he obviously wasn’t going to give me any proof of employment. Well, this was a lose/lose situation, so, what the hell, I figured I’d just make it worse.
“Then piss off. When you show me proof of your authority to do so, you can arrest me. Until then, go away and let me do my job.” I hadn’t been very happy lately. In fact, quite the opposite. I was not in the mood for this kind of ****.
“Roang moof!” He pulled his finger from his mouth, twirled his hand dramatically a bit, and suddenly there was a long, thickish, needle. He threw it. Now, I watch a lot of anime, because, well, I’m a nerd, and I will be the first to say that the move this mother fool pulled off only belonged in an anime.
The needle pierced through the left lens of my glasses and stuck into the pupil of my eye. My glasses hadn’t even budged. The lens had cracked to ****, but the glasses didn’t move. However, my left eye was now even more useless than when I wasn’t wearing glasses, and was ruining my wonderful, lime-green, monstrosity of a shirt with my blood. I wasn’t bleeding a ridiculous amount, and it wasn’t spraying, but I was bleeding fast, and it ran down my face and neck till it was staining the collar of my ugly shirt. However, I didn’t really notice at the time, because I was screaming in pain, and I was also busy doing something very stupid, yet excusable.
When a part of you is in pain, especially sever, sudden pain, your first reaction will be, in most cases, to hold it or cover it if your face is bleeding or something like that. My hand rushed to my eye before my brain had the time to realize just what was going to happen. It shoved it in farther, exacerbating my pain, and making the bleeding worse.
The man did just what I was thinking he would, and grabbed the see-through plastic sneeze guard thing on his end of the counter, and used it to do a flip into my side of the counter. He also managed to land a kick on top of my head. It hurt.
Now holding my hand over my gaping, screaming mouth, I, who had been knocked onto the floor by the kick, slid into a corner near the cash register, afraid for my life. He looked down at me smiling, and holding a fistful of needles.