(no subject)
Who: Mad March, Greg, ???, Partners.
What: Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat...
When: December 30th, 2009
Where: Neon City, Food Liomon grocery store.
Mad March was decidedly unhappy.
He had finally had the opportunity to kill Hatter, the very man responsible for losing his head (Indirectly) and he'd gotten too cocky and let Hatter use one of his overpowered haymaker punches on him.
Even in life he had come back from one of Hatter's punches...though he had needed some extensive surgery on his jaw. But his most recent acquisition of a Ceramic head (Reinforced with some plastics and such) Had not been able to withstand the punch and shattered like...well a cookie.
So he had saw the light of the world draining from him once more and thought perhaps he'd finally use that one way ticket to hell he'd had on reserve for so many years.
But it seemed fate had other ideas for the professional homicidal maniac and he had found himself in a world surrounded by annoyingly cute creatures.
He was in no mood for cute. Especially because he still had a GODDAMN COOKIE JAR FOR A HEAD!
And so began his murderous rage. Any Digimon foolish enough to come close to him met the business end of a knife and was either tama'd or stumbled away clutching puncture wounds.
Those clever enough to attack from afar were swiftly learning how swift he was at dodging. Never the less they were hoping a do-gooder Tamer or Adult level Digimon would come by and end the trouble.
Meanwhile one dark Digimon purred, "Yes...yes he will suit me nicely." He peered out from behind a stand of soda cans.
What: Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat...
When: December 30th, 2009
Where: Neon City, Food Liomon grocery store.
Mad March was decidedly unhappy.
He had finally had the opportunity to kill Hatter, the very man responsible for losing his head (Indirectly) and he'd gotten too cocky and let Hatter use one of his overpowered haymaker punches on him.
Even in life he had come back from one of Hatter's punches...though he had needed some extensive surgery on his jaw. But his most recent acquisition of a Ceramic head (Reinforced with some plastics and such) Had not been able to withstand the punch and shattered like...well a cookie.
So he had saw the light of the world draining from him once more and thought perhaps he'd finally use that one way ticket to hell he'd had on reserve for so many years.
But it seemed fate had other ideas for the professional homicidal maniac and he had found himself in a world surrounded by annoyingly cute creatures.
He was in no mood for cute. Especially because he still had a GODDAMN COOKIE JAR FOR A HEAD!
And so began his murderous rage. Any Digimon foolish enough to come close to him met the business end of a knife and was either tama'd or stumbled away clutching puncture wounds.
Those clever enough to attack from afar were swiftly learning how swift he was at dodging. Never the less they were hoping a do-gooder Tamer or Adult level Digimon would come by and end the trouble.
Meanwhile one dark Digimon purred, "Yes...yes he will suit me nicely." He peered out from behind a stand of soda cans.