YOU WALK WITH HIM

to the van, he puts his arm around your shoulders and introduces you to his band members.
They are all big like him and have tattoos and piercings all over their bodies.
They smile at you and you smile back, thanking them and explain how much you're  grateful for helping you get back to Iowa as soon as possible. Dumbass! Don't you know better than trust a bunch of big guys with tattoos and piercings and t-shirts with death slogans?
They sneer and start to laugh at you. One of them slaps you in the head, they're calling you names like 'fishboy' and 'pink meat', 'pussy' and other stuff like that.
You ask them to stop and explain you were in the army once, and that you fought a lot of big scary demons. They start to laugh until their skin cracks and pills and reveals their true skin. Suddenly you become aware that they are demons, big ugly slimy demons with reptile skin, and their teeth are very sharp. One of them slashes your ribs with its claw and you fall to your knees, holding your stomach. You look down and see that your guts are spilled out and you try to collect them back together. The demons jump on you, one of them ripping your skin and the other tries to eat a piece of your torn liver, but spits it. They realize you're not good for food, and as your mind gets foggy, they wrap your guts around your neck.
And then you die.
Suffocation? blood loss? important organs loss? We may never know. But we rejoice.

                                           THE END

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Give it up, you can't be fishboy.

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