BY: GLADIATOR
Two
warmongers sat upon their thrown room amongst a brewery of Balrog ale, and
beautiful ladies. Assortment of
females from all the civilizations they conquered tended to their every need.
“How
bout a toast?” Moe held out his mug. “Certainly,"
said Brownstone. “To the
annihilation of all life forms in the universe!"
Brownstone
slammed his mug into Moe's uncaring of the spillage upon the wench between them.
“To
the end of everything!!” Both laughed uncontrollably.
“You
guys are sick!” A petite thing looked to each of them with a scowl on her
face.
“Now,
now, my pretty...” Brownstone took another huge gulp.
“We
need to send you back to Bitch school!”
“You’re
demented!!” the young lass contended as she tried to cover her bare breasts
from his stare.
“WE
ARE WARRIORS WENCHH!” he boomed across the chamber “Now another crate of
brew for my friend here.” Brownstone clapped his hands twice.
Both
warlords were quite drunk after celebrating their latest victory.
Brownstone sucked the cherry from a young girl’s outstretched hand.
He fondled her slim waist, not caring of her alien Creed.
“Yah.
Moe, I gotta hand it too ya...you know how to party.
That Sauron was a miserable old sap...
Always serious, I must say I never liked the overbearing thug.”
”...And
then of all things, to turn into a goody two shoes!” Moe belched in another
gash's face. “Ever since the
overthrow of Sauron,” Moe shook his head from side to side...and then directly
into the eyes of a flighty female. “That
damn Kirk’s had it coming for a long time....
we’re gonna git em...”.
“Hey,
how bout while we’re at it, we take out that freelancer Avalon too?"
“AAAWWWEeeesome!!!”
Moe’s eyes bugged out, “Let’s do it!” Moe placed an oversized ring on
his hand and held it in front of him. “I
love this thing from the 42nd dimension.” A black sphere of energy emerged,
and unleashed a volley of plasma bolts in random directions throughout the
golden treasured room.
Everyone
scattered for cover to no avail as the chaotic patterns of energy danced about.
The females writhed in pain, and screamed in agony.
As his women rolled in turmoil, Moe Eskie smiled a quiet faceless
grin...he revered in the madness surrounding him.
Then
it was over.
He
took the ring back off his finger.
Everyone
got up off the floor, including Brownstone.
Blood from the wench’s fingernails digging into their palms had stained
the skin of the UFFUAC hide covering the floor.
“Knock
it off ya shit. Or have you forgotten the fun I can have with mine too?” He
held the ring between what passed for his finger and thumb.
Both
slew another empty mug against the far wall and it crashed amongst the
crumblings of hundreds of others.
“Let’s
go get Kirk...muhhahahahahaaa!” they laughed in unison and left the audience
chamber. Their thunderous laughing
driving the wenches to tears.
Little did the masterminds know of the TRULY insane madness surrounding even them.
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