
As news of the budget exhibit debacle spread about the 37th floor of the Paramutual Assured Destruction Building in downtown Kristal Stadt, several of the office bullies surrounded Rossaroni cackling and pressing fist to palm as is the bully's wont.
Rossaroni did not turn from his visio-screen to return the taunts of the three thickly muscled, heavy browed, payband five creeps who began whispering the foulest of insults. Insults like, "you colorblind oaf, I'll bet you can't even tell 3600 dollars from 3100 dollars. Why me own granny could do 'at!" And, "HAR HAR, Rossaroni DUMB .. He big DUMB DUMB .. make boss MAD with mistake even Grog not make ... HAR HAR HAR!"
Despite the heavy scent of low carb burrito with extra onion breath now reaching his highly sensitive nostrils, Rossaroni remained as focused as ever as if nothing could break his concentration.
A second ruffian then began taunting Rossaroni over his dressing habits. "Why 'at looks like Pseudo-dragon leaver if ever I sawr anyfing. HAR HAR HAR"
As one of the ruffians then leaned over Rossaroni's keypad to take his mouse and commence the ever humorous game of 'keep away,' a second ruffian suddenly grunted in surprise and pain coming from the "Y" region of the trousers. As Rossaroni planted that backkick, the first ruffian found his forearm twisted and crushed in the grasp of Rossaroni's massive grip and slammed suddenly to the formica topped computer table. The third ruffian stood mouth agape as Rossaroni finished his eponymous ballet of danger by hurling the two ruffians into the third which resulted in a delightful coconut sound.
As all three lay on the nicely carpeted floor, Rossaroni spoke, as cool as ever, "Never, ever say bring up the topic of pseudo-dragons when I'm working a programming chart. It makes me very angry"
Needless to say, one of the ruffians, the chief and of course the most cowardly, reached behind his back to pull out a morningstar he had secreted on his person for such an occasion.
He never had a chance to use it as Rossaroni snatched the flail and used it as a lever to hurl the unfortunate through the plate glass window into the river below. Such is the fate of sneaks.
Rossaroni, his long hair flowing in the breeze of the broken window, removed his short sleeved yellow oxford shirt and tie to reveal a skin tight set of leather armor and scaled gauntlets.
"Oh Rossaroni, what shall I do without you" cried Tiffany (the super-attractive, intelligent and charming program analyst), whipping off her glasses.
"You'll make do babe, Me, I've got a plane to catch. By the way, honey - one thing I never could stand about Kristal Stadt - all the damn owlbears."
At which point an Owlbear crashed through cubicle 790384
Rossaroni shook his weary head and remarked drolly, "Well here we go again"
I think you should check out 'The Four Horsies of the Cutepocalypse' over at cuteoverload.com
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