Game 3 | Game 3 Outline |
The werewolf, obviously distraught, stares first at you, then back at the witch, then back at you. Somehow he must decide whom he fears more: the shrieking bundle of fury that is the witch or the hulking mass of fat and muscle that is you. The wolf begins to whimper with frustration. For a moment (but just a moment) you actually feel sorry for the poor fellow.
At last the wolf, visibly trembling, shrieks, “Oh, hell!” and hurls himself straight at you.
“Ah, the direct approach,” you think with a smile. “Fine with me.” You raise your hands an inch or two higher and crouch slightly, bracing yourself for the wolf’s attack.
The werewolf is moving at full speed now, his clawed hands outstretched in front of him, his fangs exposed. When he is still half a room length away from you, he launches himself into the air. With a blood-curdling howl, he sails directly at your midsection, fully prepared to slice your hippo innards to ribbons.
You can’t help but smirk. This is too easy. Ever so slightly, you swing your ample posterior backward, at the same time shifting your upper body forward as a counterbalance. A split second before the wolf makes contact with your belly, you swing your lower body forward with the force of a wrecking ball.
With a sound like wet bags of cement slamming into each other, the werewolf literally bounces off your ponderous gut and goes flying back across the room. With a sickening thud, he crashes into the stone wall on the far end of the room, mere feet from where the witch is standing, and slumps to the floor unconscious, his arms and legs splayed in unnatural positions. For a moment or two, the witch stares down at her defeated servant, genuinely shocked. Then she turns her gaze back at you, her eyes blazing like twin infernos.
Perhaps a bit too cocky for your own good, you cross your massive arms over your equally massive chest and grin broadly. “Is that the best you can do?” you remark casually.
Written by Funny Animal
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