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Brawlhalla - Night Lance
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Blueberry Frost Ballistic Spear
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RUMINATION #15, FOR THE ANCHOVY (3/4)
As the Applesauce creature supported him flashes of light circulated, giving Rex the impression that he was lying on the floor of a disco. Bob stood on the lower steps, “You got to get out of its way!” signaling the others. It didn’t matter for what reason; the words compelled the dog to act. He leaned his back on the courageous fuzz ball, and supported himself enough to swing on his toes and fall forward. Snig-the Emissary was carving off both the arms of a Phibian shock trooper. Brows arched and tight lipped, not seeming to be in much control. Reducing the appendages to pulpy shredded bone brittle, he said, “When
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RUMINATION 15, FOR THE ANCHOVY (2/4)
Atomic was draped in a sheet of dust. “Stooop!” it rattled a hollow wail “-Y’got me three time’s already. Get back, just back off-okay?” darts pinged off of the robot’s guarding arms “I don’want a’touch you!” they swung upwards in the fashion of a mechanical boxer. Two black shapes hit the floor and were both trampled under stomping feet. Parmesan looked and pointed elsewhere: “Olives need’s a lift.” The young warrior monk had with him a black satchel; they hoisted him up by the lengthy shoulder strap. An electric scream became shrill laughter: “No b
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