“Hulle kan nie ver wees, soek die omtrek!” a squeky voice rang out against the dinner time rush of a giant death dealing McDonalds store. “WHAT!?” his second in command, who happened to be hard of hearing, and never understood anything his superior told him grunted.

“Hulle kan nie ver wees, soek die omtrek! Omtrek!” the squeaky voice bellowed again, hoping that just once in his short lifetime, the second in command would actually do as he was told. “Startrek!? I don’t know nothing about all that nerdy stuff except that Kirk would totally own Picard! He’d also bang him some green alien ass as well!” 

The African screamed in rage as his head burst into a lovely potriat of what Lindsey Lohan’s vagina feels at the after parties.The death dealing McDonalds store slammed a ten ton foot into the earth only twelve feet away from Morgan, Kim, Antimo, Nordafet, Caasi, the Black Syrup and the Golden sStrands. McDonalds didn’t stand a chance as it had, in one mighty step, crushed the dreams and hopes of ten thousand Nicks fans as well as the fans themselves.

“If you are Caasi… and not just some trick of the Chasm of Non-Existence, tell me something only my Wife would know!” Morgan commanded as the twin steel spikes jammed themselves through Caasi’s legs, and into the ground her. Her mind was in overdrive, she knew that this wasn’t her real form anymore. She knew that her true form of the Bloody Strands was twelve septillion times larger the the McDonalds death dealing store behind her.Yet, she felt as helpless and hapless as a Kids Choice Award winner.

“Well? We’re waiting, Blitzarmeggedon…” Morgan said with little emotion in his voice. The one remaining Skeletal Angel slowly rose from the ground beneath the dreams and hopes of the Nicks fans. “Y-you have a mole just beneath the tip of your chin.” Caasi said as she looked nervously to the Golden Strands and the Black Syrup for back up. The Golden Strands in all its wisdom and destructive capabilities did the only thing it could.

It called Miss Cleo. “She be cheatin’ on you wit that waiter, Darlin!”

 Then it located all the homes of every single Human, Insect, and Rodent that worked at Fox News Studios and stabbed them multiple times, and in a twist of hilarious fate, planted copies of OJ Simpson’s glove at all the houses and holes. Then blamed Tiger Woods. “How did that help anything at all!?” the Black Syrup asked angrily as he stabbed five people whose last name was Pinkerton.

 ”Felt like it would progress this to a massive fight somewhere along the line. Instead, I think I hear the Door of Existence cheering me on to kill off more useless sketch comedy bits.” it said in slurping tones.  Nordafet walked over and joined in the conversation, suddenly bored with whatever relationship issues Morgan was having. “Such as? Have you tried those Bachelor shows?” he yawned as he leaned onto the Black Syrup’s sticky shoulder.

Morgan thought about Caasi’s answer and felt his chin. “I don’t have a mole underneath my chin. Schreddern Dunkelheit  Flutwelle.”

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“Hulle kan nie ver wees, soek die omtrek!” a squeky voice rang out against the dinner time rush of a giant death dealing McDonalds store. “WHAT!?” his second in command, who happened to be hard of hearing, and never understood anything his superior told him grunted. “Hulle kan nie ver wees, so …