Angelo makes his way down the red carpet throne room. The King has requested an audience for the one who slayed the Beast threatening the city. As he reaches the steps up to the throne, Angelo kneels before the King with reverence. The King retrieves the ceremonial sword from his royal guard and begins the knighting ritual, an honor reserved for those recognized as true heroes."What do you make of this?" the seer asks.
"I don't know: seems like a good guy." the Captain observes.
"We'll see."
Angelo is at his wit's end. Skeletal soldiers, fiends, and more vicious creatures surround the warrior. He grows fatigued; but, one-by-one, Angelo slays all that oppose him with his trusty claymore. The massive Beast in the distance towers over the city walls, calling in more creatures to ravage the city. Angelo finds a break in the encirclement and fires a blast of force through the ranks, annihilating his enemies. Path cleared, he dashes over to the Beast, which has broken through the city wall."

Arthur was beginning to think that the old man was some kind of half-crazed supervillain. He could have overlooked the loud Hawaiian-print shirt, cargo shorts, and socks-with-sandals ensemble; that was typical old guy fare, stupid-looking but ultimately harmless. The carved wooden hiking stick he carried around despite being hundreds of miles from the nearest hikeable patch of nature and the sunglasses worn even though it was night…that pushed it a bit more. The honest-to-god real live owl perched on his shoulder--was it even legal to keep a pet owl in this city? Arthur had no idea--that was…especially eccentric, to be kind about the phrasing.
But what really took the cake was him showing up out of nowhere, saying they needed to talk, and then…well, Arthur wasn’t really sure what he’d done. All he knew was that he’d blinked and somehow his surroundings had gone from a lonely street to the roof of a skyscraper, traffic lights blinking li

Once upon a time there was a terrible dragon, which crawled along the ground on endless feet. The dragon was an ancient beast—forged long before Little Red was born—and only Grandmama was old enough to remember it. But Little Red had heard stories, and so when she saw the dragon coming she rolled her bike into a wooden bunker nearby and waited for it to pass.
     But the dragon saw her inside with eyes of infra-red, and so it spoke: “Little Red, Little Red, let me come in.”
    “Not by the spikes on your tinny-tin-tin!”
    “Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your fort in!”
    The dragon breathed out a huge gout of fire that burned the wooden bunker to ash, but Little Red was clever, and so in the commotion she escaped and rode away across the wasteland to a bunker of steel.
    Here too, the dragon saw her, an