Chapter 8

26 9 2

by Tom

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by Tom

I am slaying
this wretched lizardman
who sank low enough
to steal the body
of an old woman
when I hear my hoomans
shouting behind me:

Hooman #1:
Tom!

Hooman #A:
He's killing that lizard!

Tom:
Death of a thousand cuts!

Centaurian #S:
Yaaah! Blasted—YAAAH!
Feline...!

Hooman #1:
Ohmy—

Hooman #A:
W-whoa! Ohhh... Oh wow.

Hooman #1:
Where did he learn
to do that!?

Hooman #A:
Woman next door
told me he did that
to a bird once.

Hooman #1:
There's no way.

Hooman #A:
Yeah, I didn't want
to believe her,
either.

Tom:
And that is
how you slay a lizard!

Hooman #1:
There's no way
I'm ever doing that.

Hooman #A:
Yeah, umm,
we don't need Happy Rock
that much, do we?

Tom:
Yes we do—

Hooman #1:
I agree with
the murderous cat.
He can't do ...that,
then we just walk away
without the rock.

Hooman #A:
But I feel sick.

Tom:
And you will feel
much sicker
if you do not retrieve
the Happy Rock!
It's our only weapon
against their current
American leader...

Hooman #1 & Hooman #A:
Say what?

Hooman #1:
He doesn't mean
Orange Man,
does he?

Hooman #A:
He couldn't...

Hooman #1 & Hooman #A:
Hashtag
Not My President.

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