I spent some time wandering between two rows of obtrusive diagonally aligned blocks in Dungeon three today. He showed up again. This time it was Bob. I watched in envy as he slid the splintered edge of his wooden blade through the center of my friend's flaccid innards. The miricle of life unfolding right before my eyes. Why couldn't it be me? When do I get to experience such pleasure?     ( Add Comment )

I just got through talking with the Oscillating Razor Blade Traps. I begged for them to absolve me of sin. To utilize their barbed tendrils as a means of delivering me from this world and into the next. They pretended not to notice me and instead focus on an imperfection in the dungeon's wall which they claim resembles Scott Baio. I don't see it. All I see anymore is darkness.     ( Add Comment )