(no subject)
Whilst bubbling along the meadow path, Henry felt the smell of dandelions tickle his throat. The nimble prancing of epic forest creatures couldn’t have been more graceful than the way he drew his gun. There was danger. As quickly as the thought occurred, so did the loud sound that made him pull the trigger. He and his opponent were shot. His opponent, whom we will henceforth refer to as “The Opponent” managed to get a piece of Henry’s arm while Henry’s trophy was a lot more impressive. Tears swelled and sweat drops hung frozen in time when The Opponent discovered his wound. Henry’s bullet, or more accurately, the bullet that originated inside Henry’s gun, was buried inside The Opponent’s tracheotomy. Henry must have been a marksman and he must have been aiming for this foe’s throat because a chance shot like this was truly impossible. This was no ordinary tracheotomy. The tiny walls on the inside of this man’s air hole were encrusted with super magnetic clusters. The Opponent believed with as much faith as desperate person can have, that these magnetic pulses were going to heal him.
Henry died.
So did the Opponent.
Henry died.
So did the Opponent.