002: ACTION! ☆ IN WHICH DENMARK IS A FEARLESS CHEF
Characters: Denmark & YOU LOT
Location: The Park
Time: High Noon
Style: Prose to start. I will follow.
Status: OPEN LIKE A [insert preferred metaphor or extended Homeric analogy]
Denmark is punching a shark in the face.
He is currently shirtless and there are several bloody bite-marks lining his glistening abs. But he doesn’t seem to notice or care as he digs his calloused fingers into the shark’s gills and wrestles it to the ground, the force of it all uprooting several unfortunate trees and bushes in the process.
“HAH. YOU BIG PUPPY. Now just stay down. I need to go grill some steaks.”
The creature twitches as if it could understand. It looks somewhat worried. It is also wearing rollerblades on its flippers (and by wear, I mean somewhat duct-taped).
For all intents and purposes, Denmark is hosting a barbeque out in the park. It was mostly due to whim and per the sake of his own amusement; he was after all a being of spontaneity and a supporter of slap-dashery (which in Denmark’s vernacular, is just called being ‘fearless’). Because you must understand: Denmark is the kind of person who drives while drinking cough syrup just for the kick and calls it courage. He is the kind of person to go fishing in the arctic barefoot, to flash-mob a prison, to see how many billiard balls he can fit in his mouth in one time with the reward of just one Jack and coke. (Note: All of these things have happened before. Some, more than once). And so, you see, a half-naked barbeque in the middle of a park with a shark in questionable footwear actually just makes for a rather mellow day in Denmark’s book.
So the real question is as follows: do you have the guts to come join him and eat a piece of meat the size of a fully inflated beach ball?
[OOC: BY POPULAR DEMAND. Y’all asked for this magnificent garbage dump of magic so here I am, delivering. NOW COME BLOW THIS POST UP, MY SWEETIES. Give Denmark your best shot. ANYTHING is a go!]
Location: The Park
Time: High Noon
Style: Prose to start. I will follow.
Status: OPEN LIKE A [insert preferred metaphor or extended Homeric analogy]
Denmark is punching a shark in the face.
He is currently shirtless and there are several bloody bite-marks lining his glistening abs. But he doesn’t seem to notice or care as he digs his calloused fingers into the shark’s gills and wrestles it to the ground, the force of it all uprooting several unfortunate trees and bushes in the process.
“HAH. YOU BIG PUPPY. Now just stay down. I need to go grill some steaks.”
The creature twitches as if it could understand. It looks somewhat worried. It is also wearing rollerblades on its flippers (and by wear, I mean somewhat duct-taped).
For all intents and purposes, Denmark is hosting a barbeque out in the park. It was mostly due to whim and per the sake of his own amusement; he was after all a being of spontaneity and a supporter of slap-dashery (which in Denmark’s vernacular, is just called being ‘fearless’). Because you must understand: Denmark is the kind of person who drives while drinking cough syrup just for the kick and calls it courage. He is the kind of person to go fishing in the arctic barefoot, to flash-mob a prison, to see how many billiard balls he can fit in his mouth in one time with the reward of just one Jack and coke. (Note: All of these things have happened before. Some, more than once). And so, you see, a half-naked barbeque in the middle of a park with a shark in questionable footwear actually just makes for a rather mellow day in Denmark’s book.
So the real question is as follows: do you have the guts to come join him and eat a piece of meat the size of a fully inflated beach ball?
[OOC: BY POPULAR DEMAND. Y’all asked for this magnificent garbage dump of magic so here I am, delivering. NOW COME BLOW THIS POST UP, MY SWEETIES. Give Denmark your best shot. ANYTHING is a go!]