You can barely open your eyes. You can't open your mouth. You can breath through your nose, but not very well. Smoke and flames covered the entire store, all you can smell are ashes. You have a gut feeling that the building you were in is mostly gone by now, except for that little room you were in, because the main character has to live, and that's you, remember? You attempt to stand up, but the sharp pain in your lower left leg makes you yell out in pain and immediately fall back down.
You remember in a quick flash that the explosion knocked you back and you landed on your leg, dislocating it and cracking the bones in the process. You've gotta get out of this room before it burns to the ground completely. Weakling. You can't even stand up? How the hell do you expect to get out? Well, since you have 3 fucking arms, you can use one of them as a makeshift leg until you get the other one you have fixed. You hoist (that's a real word, right?) yourself up and begin walking slowwwly towards the door, holding you breath as to not inhale the smoke.
After about 4 minutes of torture, you reach the door and do a mental sigh of relief. You go to grab the door handle and twist.
The door was never unlocked.
How did you forget that? Holy h*ck, use your brain once in a while please. What are you going to do now? I mean, you could TRY breaking down the door, but that'd take AGES, and you have little time left to escape. You quickly realize that you could try throwing the cans at it, I don't think you need them anymore. After 3 minutes of pelting cans at the door, you manage to make a small hole in it. It looks thin enough that you could punch right through it, might as well re-name yourself to Kyleᵀᴹ while you're at it. You mentally prepare yourself before you PUNCH right through that door, and manage to unlock it from the outside.
You ever so slowly push open the door.
Your gut feeling was correct.
All that can be heard for miles are the screams of innocent humans and they scramble to non-existent safety to try and get away from the fire. Fire and ashes. That's all there are. You stumble backwards in horror at what can only be described as a physical representation of Hell. You should probably find someone to help with your leg. Y'know, it being broken and all.
You use your arm-legs to sprint to the nearest still-standing gas station, and karate-chop through the window, shattering the glass. A single man is inside, eating a doughnut and reading a newspaper, probably blissfully unaware to what the frick frack snick snack is going on. You yell "HEY" towards him but he ignores you. You jump through the window and slap him in the back of the head. He turns around and looks at you. Oh you should have seen the look on your FACE when you saw who it was! Spoiler alert: it was Maxx. You hiss at him like an 8 year old girl who thinks she's a cat. He just smiles devilishly.
"Miss me?" He says.
In a flash, you think about everything he and his friends have done to you. The tractor ride, the bat, and your whole missing arm situation. In a moment of pure fury, you run over to the counter, look behind it and find the gun, which was probably supposed to be used in case of a robbery. You aim it at his head and say, your voice trembling
"W-WhAT the hecking frick is going on??!"
He just chuckled at that and says
"The starting of a new world. This is what we call, cleaning up the mess"
You can feel tears streaming down your face. When SUDDENLY, a dark figure naruto runs up to behind maxx and stabs him in the shoulder with a katana. He falls over and is K.O'd instantly.
"Who the h-e double fuck are you?" You stammer.
The dark figure takes off the hood to reveal its face. It's a face you'd never forget.
Mr. Alfredo Linguine, the man with the rat, who became the greatest chef in France.
