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Dragon Team Retro Force Chapter 3

Deviation Actions

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  Mitch, Lime, Lemon, and Patrice emerged from a dissipating cloud of black smoke into a small, clustered room. They gazed at what Lime pointed out to be a teenage boy sitting at his computer wearing large headphones, whom didn't notice the frantic whispering coming from the dragons. Patrice signaled Mitch to close the door beside him. No need of unwanted visitors.
Mitch was nudging the door closed when a red-haired woman walked in with some steaming Hot Pockets. The dragons adhered themselves to the wall, partially obscured by the open door. The woman, caught up in her motherly duty, set the food on a table near the door before walking out and shutting the door behind her, taking no notice of the huddled dragons on the far side of the room. Lemon crawled out from underneath the clustered group, drooling as swirling steam rose above the cheese-stuffed pastries. The teenager got up and set his earphones on his desk before trudging over to the Hot Pockets. Lemon's feathery frills twitched, his eyes narrowing as his belly growled.
He then pounced upon the teenager like a tiger on a honeyed fat kid, snatching up the Hot Pockets and gobbling them down. Mitch, Lime, and Patrice panicked as Lemon growled at the kid, whom was struggling to push Lemon's yellow hide off him. Slobber ran down Lemon's fangs as he spat, "My precioussssss!"
Mitch ran to Lemon and rammed him off, to which Lemon hissed and crawled back into the corner with Patrice and Lime, where he received a barrage of whacks from the two.
"THE HELL WAS THAT?" Lime roared.
"I don't know!" Lemon whimpered as he held his face in his paws. "It's the mozzarella! I can't think straight around it!"
Mitch helped the teenager back onto his feet. "My apologies, we'll be leaving now," he assured.
The kid jumped away from Mitch. He held out his arms and yelled, "FREAKOUT!"
Mitch said, "Now, now, no need for hysterics- BWUUUUUUH?"
The dragons were dumbfounded as the boy twirled into a glowing tornado and transformed into a six-foot blue-skinned man in red spandex. His black hair was sleekly spiked back, with white lightning-bolt highlights on each side of his hairline.
Freakazoid waved, "HELL-OOO!" He squealed at the dragons, his arms shaking with glee. "Yay! My own reptile zoo!" The dragons stood in the corner, still speechless. The blue man looked them over, their necks bent to avoid breaking the roof.
"Hmm," he said. "Looks like you guys are just a little too big for this room." He gestured over to the window near the computer. "How 'bout we get some fresh air?" He zapped them all to the front yard, where a pink flamingo ornament met its demise beneath Mitch's foot.
Lime, Lemon, and Patrice scanned the surroundings of yet another cartoon world. Its colors were more vibrant than that of the Ghost Busters', though the cookie cutter suburbs did little to instill awe. Patrice, however, found herself puzzling over Mitch and the blue freak. She couldn't figure what was so strange about the two. They seemed so similar, yet completely different in appearance.
Lime canted his head and asked, "Uh, you two brothers or something?"
Lemon frowned. "Really, Lime? They're nothing alike. They couldn't be."
Lemon looked at Mitch, who was sitting on his haunches and waving at him with a smirk. He then looked at Freakazoid, who too was waving and grinning stupidly.
"They're obviously cousins," Lemon insisted.
Patrice tossed her suspicious gaze between Mitch and Freakazoid. She walked over to Freakazoid and tugged his ear.
"OW! Hey!" Freakazoid squeaked.
She then walked over to Mitch and punched his ebony, scaly arm.
"OW! What's-the-matter with you?" he squawked.
It donned on her. "You guys!" She said to the others. "Their voices! It's their voices that sound the same!"
Mitch chortled, "Pa-lease! He doesn't have my beautiful singing voice."
Freakazoid knitted his brow. "Really? Huh! I bet you can't beat my Cherokee version of China-Girl."
The two paused and stared at each other.
And then a simultaneous duet of poppy tribal crooning ensued, the sound like two bloodhounds on an amphetamine drip. The words "China Girl" may have made it into the singing before Patrice regretted her observation.
"Stop it!" she ordered as she restrained the urge to whip out the Tri-Cannon. "Okay! Okay! You both win! Just...Stop...Singing."
They both answered, "But I didn't finish the chorus!" They glared at each other. "Stop copying me!" They crossed their arms and gave each other the evil eye. "You stop copying me."
Lime had his paws over his face. "Ugh. It's like retard in stereo."
"Hey," Mitch and Freakazoid chimed. "That wasn't very politically correct!" Alarmed by the unison, they stretched their necks face-to-face and then reeled, their movements mirrored. Deciding to be cheeky, they circled their arms in a wax-on wax-off fashion before standing on one leg with their wrists craned.
"Lime," Lemon said. "I'm scared and I don't know why."
Lime nodded. "I didn't know parallel-universe-Mitch was possible."
Mitch and Freakazoid were sticking their tongues out at each other. The next moment they were performing the "behind the glass" mime act.
Lemon groaned. "That is so overused."
The mirror act was broken when Freakazoid leaned in and put an imaginary phone to his ear. He tapped the non-existent glass with his knuckle, to which Mitch answered his own imaginary phone.
"Can ya hear me?" Freakazoid asked.
"Loud and clear," Mitch said. He asked furtively, "How do ya get outta here?"
"Depends," Freakazoid said, covering the receiver and looking around surreptitiously. He whispered, "You're kinda stuck here for now."
"Why?" Mitch asked.
"Well," Freakazoid said, "because the plot hasn't really started."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Hm," Mitch said, scratching his chin horns. "Know anyone who can get this thing rolling?"
"I got some people on the outside."
"Shouldn't they be inside though?" Mitch asked.
Freakazoid scratched his chin. "Huh. That does present a problem..."
Lime, Lemon, and Patrice screamed, "WE CAN HEAR YOU!"
"I gotta go!" Mitch said. "They're onto me!"
Freakazoid whispered urgently, "Beware the soap of the fallen!"
It was at this point that a boxy squad car rolled up to the house. An overweight sheriff rolled down the window and poked his head out. He called in a gruff voice, "Hey kid!"
"Hi Cosgrove!" Freakazoid waved.
"Wanna see the acrobat-chimpanzee shoot skeet at the Circus Circus?"
"DO I?" Freakazoid said with rhetorical glee. He pointed his thumb at the dragons said, "Can I bring my new friends along?"
Cosgrove rubbed his chin. "I dunno. Are they house-broken?"
Patrice's lip curled. "We're sentient."
Cosgrove shrugged. "Eh. I don't judge."
"Eeeeee!" Mitch squealed, his paws clenched with joy. Patrice took the liberty of punching Mitch in the shoulder, the sound like battering a dying squeaky toy.
She berated, "Shouldn't we be pursuing a certain someone?"
Mitch sighed and slumped. "You're right."
"Finally!" Patrice said in triumph.
"That chimpanzee needs our morale support."
"Exac- wait, what?"
"To the circus!" Mitch declared.
Patrice, for once, decided to indulge Mitch. She crossed her arms as she slung the Tri-Cannon over her shoulder. "Okay, Mitch. Fine. We go to the circus. But how? We've never been in this world, we can't fit in that car, we don't know this world's currency, and for all we know-"
"CHECKERBOARD WIPE!" Freakazoid hollered.
Patrice sneered. "What are you-"
A second later they were walking out of the Circus Circus, its tent door bellowing flames and sparks as they left. Patrice's eyes had glazed. "What the hell just happened?" She looked back at the tent. "And why is the circus on fire?"
"Well," Freakazoid said, "let's just say that's the last time I'll give Pop Rocks and soda to a primate."
Mitch too was shocked. "And how he exploded afterward..."
Cosgrove chuckled. "Heh, exploding monkeys." His expression became severe. "Oh yeah. That reminds me. There's a demon goat terrorizing the local soda shop."
Lemon spat out his own jumbo-sized soda. And kept spitting. And spitting. And spitting. And kept spitting until Freakazoid snatched the drink from him. "Hey!" Freakazoid said. "That's my gag!"
"Samael!" Lemon shrieked.
"No, no," Freakazoid said. "It's 'Sam I Am.' Get your Seuss right will ya? Sheesh."
"No!" Patrice snapped. "He means Samael! That's the demon goat's name!"
Cosgrove contemplated that. "So the demon goat is Dr. Seuss? I didn't know that."
"No Cosgrove," Mitch said. "The demon goat is literally named Samael, and if she's not stopped she'll wipe out the world of digital media as we know it."
Cosgrove thought about that. "Why does this sound like a really bad crossover?"
"Because it is," Lime grumbled.
Freakazoid puffed his chest out and raised a finger. "Then there's only one thing to do."
"'Bout time," Patrice said, exasperated.
Freakazoid stuck his arms out and made airplane noises as he ran down the street. Patrice's jaw clenched as she watched the blue buffoon. She looked over at Mitch and said, "Mitch! Don't you go and- oh great."
Mitch flew over her head, squealing delightedly as he pursed Freakazoid. He chanted merrily, "I can actually fly! I can actually fly!"
"STOP SHOWBOATING!" Freakazoid shouted.
They heard a shrill whistle from behind them. They turned around to see Samael suspending Cosgrove by his collar. Cosgrove choked out, "I do not...want...your filthy...green eggs...and ham!" He kicked Samael in the chest, though this was about as effective as an elderly woman kicking Chuck Norris.
Samael cocked her head. "Aw. You're defending yourself. Don't burst a varicose vein on my part."
"There's a word for dames like you," Cosgrove said as he struggled. "Reminds me of a dog I once had."
"Oh really?" Samael said. "What was the name?"
Cosgrove pointed behind her. "Tri-Cannon."
"What kind of name is- OH NO YOU DON'T!" Samael hurled Cosgrove at Patrice before she could pull the trigger, the two sent toppling across the asphalt parking lot. Patrice got to her feet and said, "How'd you know it was called a Tri-Cannon?"
Cosgrove grunted and pushed himself up. "Because it's got three cannon-like barrels. Not much of a stretch there, toots."
"What did you just call me?" Patrice snarled as she dove for her Tri-Cannon. She halted when it was kicked away by Samael's clawed foot. Patrice was still crouched as her eyes slowly looked up to see Samael looming above her, standing akimbo.
"Toots," Samael said. She went on to list: "Bimbo, chick, dame, dish, doll, doxy, floozy, gal, lassie. None of them quite do justice."
Patrice shot up and skidded back. "And what would you suggest?"
"Charades," Samael said sweetly as her form crackled with red electricity. "With your innards." It was at this point that Lemon leaped in and bellowed his own golden electricity at Samael. The demoness didn't budge. Instead she pivoted towards Lemon and flicked off a residual spark of his power. She asked with the same saccharine sweetness, "What exactly did you just try?"
Lemon's mouth worked impotently. "Uh-uh...I..."
"Because I could have sworn that you just tried to kill me."
"B-b-but that worked last-"
"Except I've had massage therapy more intense than that."
"I...I-I-I did not want to know that."
"Lemon," Patrice said earnestly, "that was very sweet of you."
"Thanks?" Lemon squeaked.
"And stupid," Patrice added.
Lemon whimpered as he backpedaled from Samael's coruscating form. The demoness said, "I'm going to take your carcass to a nice little Chinese restaurant. I bet they could do wonders."
"There's a joint a block down," Cosgrove suggested. "Amazing General Tso's chicken."
"Really?" Samael said. "Thanks, I'll do that. One sec..."
Lime's sneak attack violently backfired when Samael caught his paw and used him as a shot put. Lime crashed into Lemon, resulting in another explosion of feathers. It took the two a spell before they could walk again. Lime's face contorted as he coughed up a plume of Lemon's plumage.
"Lemon," Lime said hoarsely. "Ever heard of this thing called hygiene?"
"Why?" Lemon asked.
"Because your feathers taste like the untended end of a cat."
Lemon smirked. "Well you'd know now, wouldn't ya?"
"SHUT UP!"
"Wait a sec," Lemon said curiously. "She's not trying to kill us for some reason."
Lime was perplexed by this. "Why is she not..." He sighed as he looked over at Freakazoid and Mitch. "This does not surprise me anymore."
Samael was glaring with her arms crossed at Mitch and Freakazoid. She spread her arms and asked, "What are you doing?"
    The two were engaged in an epic battle of rock-paper-scissors. The game, appropriately enough, was still tied. "Shhh!" Freakazoid said to her. "Can't you see that we're deciding who'll SAVE THE WORLD?"
"But she's my nemesis!" Mitch argued as he accosted Freakazoid with his paw-scissors. Freakazoid menaced the dragon with his own scissoring fingers.  
"But she's in my world." He lifted his chin up and crossed his arms. "House rules."
"But you've never dealt with her!"
"Please," Freakazoid scoffed. "I've dealt with a snake lady, a bull-Texan, and a hydrocephalic man with an English accent. I know how to handle a-"
"Yoo hoo!" Samael called. "Can I play?"
Mitch and Freakazoid put a paw and hand respectively over their brows as they peered at the demoness.
"Huh," Freakazoid said. "A single finger. Never seen that one before. What's it mean?"
Mitch's lips thinned. "You know that blurry channel on cable that you can never get to come in?"
"Oh!" Freakazoid said. "But what's that have to do with Rock-paper-scissors?"
"Must be a trump," Mitch said.
"Dynamite?" Freakazoid guessed.
A garish sphere of pulsing electricity shot forth from Samael's middle finger and blasted them, sending the two jettisoning at explosive velocities into a nearby smoothie shop. Fantastic multicolored cascades of fruity pulp splashed into the air, accompanied by juice-glistened bricks and mortar. There was a grave silence as the wreckage cleared. Two victorious fists emerged from the destruction. Freakazoid and Mitch popped their heads out.
"ROCK AGAIN?" they exclaimed. They huffed indignantly. Mitch said, "Why don't we both just attack her?"
"Like the buddy system?" Freakazoid said.
"Kinda," Mitch said. "But instead of holding hands we're punching her in the face."
"Mm," Freakazoid said, tapping his chin. "Creates a problem."
"How?"
"Still haven't done the moral of the day."
"Could it wait?"
"Why?"
"'Cause she's trying to kill us again."
"Ah."
The two rocketed from the wreckage just as Samael sent a jagged stream of electricity at them, causing yet another shockwave of debris. The two charged at Samael, weaving in and out of her lighting blasts as they closed in.
"Man!" Mitch said. "This is exciting! We need a theme song or something."
Freakazoid looked smug. "Already got one."
"Really?" Mitch said. He rubbernecked to the side. "Oh! So that's what that orchestra is for."
"Huh," Samael said. "Didn't see that." She outstretched her palm towards the musicians.
Freakazoid gasped. "My theme!" The world slowed as Samael's crimson lightning arced towards the orchestra. Freakazoid trumpeted a dramatic, "NOOOOOO! MYYYY DOOOOWN PAAAAYMENT!"
An entourage of fat men in tuxedos were sent spinning into the air, followed by a wince-inducing bleat of woodwind instruments and clanging drums. Freakazoid's visage was suddenly darkened by ominous shading. He marched towards Samael, his fists clenched.
"Do you know...how much...MOOLAH THAT COSTS?"
"Haven't a clue," Samael said coyly, rubbing her electrified claws against her chest and blowing them. "Oh dear, however will I compensate?"
"Oh you'll pay," Freakazoid said, his voice deepening as the clouds darkened and roiled above them. He jabbed a finger at the demoness. "You'll pay in the worst way known to man."
Samael raised an eyebrow. The storm clouds abruptly cleared up as Freakazoid took out a clipboard and pen. "Would you like to participate in a survey?"
Samael blinked. "What?"
"Great! Let's get started. What would you say your average consumption of carbonated beverages is?"
Samael gave Freakazoid a granite glare. "Are you shi- MMPH!"
Freakazoid had miraculously procured a can of soda and had shoved it down her throat. He said with a beat, "One a day? Two?" He shoved another in her mouth. "Three? Perhaps we should use a weekly estimate."
Utilizing cartoon physics, Freakazoid managed to stuff an entire case down Samael's throat, the image like force feeding a boa constrictor. "Hm," Freakazoid said. "Should have really made this an annual survey."
He turned around and made a big beckoning gesture. "Alright! Back her up! Nice and easy!"
Lime, Lemon, and Patrice spectated in disbelief. Lime exclaimed, "Is that a soda slash dumpster truck?"
"Yes," Lemon said flatly.
Lime threw his paw out. "But how did he get it?"
"Mitch is driving it," Patrice observed, her head slumped to the side. She could literally feel the absurdity sucking out her intelligence.
"Oh," Lime said, as if this made perfect sense. His pupils dilated. "WHEN DID HE LEARN TO DRIVE?"
"I dunno," Lemon said. "Maybe he-"  
"HOW DID HE FIT IN THERE?"
Lemon shrugged. "Extended cabin maybe? There are some fat mother-truckers out there." Lemon looked over at his irritable green comrade and shirked away. "Uh, Lime? You alright? Your right eye is twitching a lot."
"MY BRAIN HURTS!" Lime screamed.
The hydraulics on the soda dump truck whirred to life as it emptied its aluminum contents into Samael's agape mouth. Rather than bludgeon the demoness, the cans of soda caused her to expand into a pointy roly-poly, her long and lithe arms now reduced to twitching nubs.
Freakazoid snapped his fingers. "Oh maestro!" The maestro of Freakazoid's disbanded orchestra finally landed into the charred crater next to Freakazoid. He looked down into the crater and said, "Oh, hey maestro. Could you play me some canned Willy Wonka tunes?"
The maestro's arm rose from the crater with a tape player in his hand. He hit the play button before shaking his fist at Freakazoid and falling back down into the crater. Freakazoid beamed.
"Thanks maestro."
As if on cue, Mitch and Freakazoid began a bobbing dance around Samael's bloated form. They sung:

"What, do you get, when you're quaffing down pop?"
"Some telltale gas, amid diabetic shock."
"Perhaps, you should shy, from sugar and stuff."
"Lest you bloat up like Brit...ney...Spears!"

Freakazoid lifted the can-filled demoness over his head and vigorously shook her. Mitch and Freakazoid sung in:

"You'll get no...
You'll get no...
You'll get no..."

Freakazoid winked and popped the top off the soda can sticking out from Samael's mouth, sending her whizzing through the air like a spastic soda-spewing fire hose, where the demoness conveniently ran out of pop-propulsion and landed right in a nearby recycling center.

Mitch and Freakazoid commenced the crescendo:

"You'll get no butt-dimples!"

The two of them flashed towards the recycling center, where a man in overalls weighed Samael and gave them $67.89. They held the money up and declared in unison, "Thus the value of recycling!" They stood posed like that until a deep rumbling emanated from within the recycling center.
Lime turned to Lemon and said, "You know, you really ought to get that checked out."
"It wasn't me!" Lemon said. "It was-"
The recycling center went up in a dome of fire, and an ungodly, raspy scream thrashed the air as Samael's lighting and fire shrouded body skyrocketed out of the immolated building. The dome-blast had sent Freakazoid and Mitch careening across the street, where they struck a building wall upside-down before peeling off it and thudding upon the sidewalk.
"What was that?" Freakazoid asked through the asphalt.
Mitch got to his fours and looked around. Perplexed, he kept searching until he looked up. He yelped. "Um, that's new."
"What that?" Freakazoid said as he got up.
"That."
"That?"
"THAT!" Mitch shrieked, pointing up at Samael's levitating form, her bloodshot eyes twitching, her musculature gnarled, her jaws dripping with saliva as she breathed raggedly.
Lime's jaw dropped. "HOLY CRAP! SHE CAN FLY?"
Freakazoid looked confused. "Just when did this turn into an anime?"
Samael's words came out choppy and strained "Ha...ha...very...funny...can't...decide...how...to kill you...suggestions...please?"
Freakazoid pointed to her head. "I think that vein on your head is going to- yup, yup it just burst."
In the span of a blink, Samael flew forth and punt-kicked Freakazoid, launching him into the air. Mitch gasped. "Oh dear lord! Are you-" The demoness caught Freakazoid midair and then suplexed him with ground-quaking force, creating yet another asphalt crater.
Mitch squeaked, "...Okay?" He scampered over to the crater and looked in. "Hello?" He craned his deeper into the hole, squinting as he tried to see into the darkness below. "Are you two spelunking?"
"Oh Mitch," Samael sung.
"Yessum?"
"HADOUKEN!"
A massive sphere of black fire and roaring electricity struck Mitch and sent him on a First Class trip to Painville, where he landed adjacent to Patrice. She looked over at him and asked, "Need some help?"  
Mitch's leg twitched in response. Patrice humphed. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'" She brought the Tri-Cannon to her shoulder and looked down its scope, its vision a murky mix of blues and grays.
Cosgrove was behind her giving her shooting tips. "There ya go. Nice and steady. Adjust for wind. Don't squint too much. If you get nervous, just imagine your target naked."
Patrice scowled down at him. "We don't wear clothes."
Cosgrove blinked. "Huh. And I thought this show was rated G."
"Will you shut up?" she growled as she reset her aim.
Cosgrove looked to Lemon and Lime and shushed them. "Be very, very quiet. She's hunting hellspawn."
Patrice took aim as a glaring red figure shot up from the crater and into her sights. She pulled the trigger, and Samael found herself in the trajectory of three, deathly black spheres radiating a green light. The blasts met their target, and Patrice marveled as the demoness went up in a swirling pillar of ebony and emerald fire. "Wow," she said. "It's Mitch-powered!"
The elation died out quickly. Samael had not recoiled from the blast. Rather, her torso was leaned back like a possessed limbo dancer. She rose up slowly, her arms dangling as a guttural growl emanated from her. She then sped towards them and slowed as she closed in, her red eyes set on Mitch.
Patrice's agape mouth had gone from glee to horror. Lime and Lemon tried to fly away, only for Patrice to snatch both their tails, her shocked expression still fixed on Samael. Cosgrove, strangely, was nowhere to be found.
Mitch had inopportunely chosen this time to recover. "Um," he said, sounding like a broken puppy as Samael made stiff paces towards him. "Did I ever tell you that you look great. I mean, just really, really, great..." He backpedaled as Samael closed in. "Just wow. You must work core and legs everyday!"
Samael stopped. "Really?" she said, looking bashful. "You think so?"
"I know so!" Mitch said, taking advantage of the stall. "And I've seen my fair share of damsels let me tell ya! Susan Summers has got nothing on you!"
"Are you implying that I'm old?" Samael said as she placed her hands on her hips. Mitch squeaked and stuttered, glancing over to Patrice for help.
The dragoness jumped as she exchanged looks with Mitch and Samael. "Uh, um...No, no, he didn't mean that all! He meant that in the sense that you were...Uh, timeless!"
"Yeah!" Mitch joined in. "Age-defying beauty! And the hair! Tresses to die for! And that piercing in your ear! Is that platinum? It must have cost a fortune! And those long and beautifully manicured claws- yeah, you're still going to kill us aren't you?"
"Pretty much," Samael said. "But thanks for the morale boost."
"Great, Mitch," Lime said. "We'll all die with our noses brown, thanks to you."
A red blur veered towards Samael and pounced atop her shoulders. Freakazoid grabbed her ears and sung, "I've got your goat! I've got your goat!" The demoness reacted in an unexpected way.
"Stop it!" she shrieked. "Let go of me you freak!"
"Say uncle!"
"No!" she screamed as she struggled to extricate him. "Stop it! That hurts!"
"Wow! Your ears are like a built-in tack! Now where to find a bit..."
"PULL HARDER!" Lime screamed. "RIP THEM OFF HER FREAKING-" The dragon cocked his head. "Wait, is she crying?"
The demoness' furred face was slick with tears. "Stop making fun of my ears!"
"Oh geez!" Freakazoid said, sounding apologetic. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were sensitive about that. What kind of bully am I?"
He leaped off of Samael and grabbed her tail, spinning her at tornado velocities before hurling her into an office building and causing a domino effect of falling edifices. He smacked his hands clean and beamed proudly before lifting a finger and announcing, "Remember kids! Concussive throws may breaks your bones, but bad words scar for life." He suddenly remembered something.
"Hey, anyone seen Cosgrove?"
"Sorry about that," Cosgrove said as he approached them with a big bag of Chinese takeout. "The General called, and his name was Tso."
Patrice gawked at the bag. "You ordered out during an epic battle?"
Cosgrove shrugged. "Eh. You get used to it after awhile." He patted Freakazoid on the shoulder. "Good work, kid."
"Thanks Cosgrove," Freakazoid said.
Cosgrove added, "I'm sure you softened her up pretty good."
"I sure did...Wait, what do you mean by soften?"
Samael barreled into Freakazoid and snatched him off the ground with one arm. She lifted her other hand, and a bloom of lighting erupted from her fingertips, where it branched out and propelled Cosgrove and the dragons several dozen yards away. They lied paralyzed for a moment, their bodies still crackling with current.
Cosgrove grunted and said, "This is terrible."
Lime gave a pained twitch. "Really? Ya think?"
"Yeah," Cosgrove said. "She melted my General Tso's chicken."
Lime sighed in disgust and looked over to Mitch. "Hey! Think ya could help?"
"What does the color green sound like?" Mitch said faintly. He looked off and grinned drunkenly. "Bowie knows..."
Meanwhile, Samael was choking the life out of Freakazoid, her eyes wide and livid. "No one, and I mean no one, insults my ears."
Freakazoid gurgled, "Can a...guy...get some...last words?"
Black fire writhed around Samael's other arm. "Make 'em quick."
Freakazoid licked his finger and stuck it in Samael's ear. "WET WILLY!"
Samael unleashed a feral roar, her arm encompassed with ebony and crimson energy. Her claws sprung from her fingertips as she reared her arm back.
"Have fun playing jump rope with your entrails you spastic smurf-looking mother-"

RELAX-O-READING

Phew. Quite a scene there, what with dragons and demons being thrown through buildings and walls and what not. And that last part...Whew! Just a little too gruesome don't you think? We're going to turn things down a notch, let your heart rate settle. Good for pacing, no?
Imagine that you're in a rolling field of long grass, their tips dancing in the wind. You breathe in the zephyr, taking in the sweet, floral scents as the cool air caresses your skin. You look up and behold the flawless sky; a rich, azure blanket that stretches above the flat lands and into the horizon.
And then you hear the sound of a pump shotgun and a redneck telling you to get off his lawn.
We hope you've enjoyed Relax-O-Reading. We now return to your scheduled story.

"Wow," Mitch said in disbelief. "What an amazing escape!"
Freakazoid cracked his knuckles. "Yup. Too bad Samael escaped though."
"I've never seen a reversal like that!" Patrice said. "Where did you learn that?"
"Ancient martial art technique," Freakazoid said, making a sun and moon gesture.
Lime didn't buy that. "I didn't know asylums had dojos."
"Crazy was my first style," Freakazoid said.
"Ya did great kid," Cosgrove commended. "But we still gotta track down that demoness."
"You're right," Freakazoid said resolutely. "There's only one thing to do."
"What's that?" Mitch said.
Freakazoid thrust a finger into the air. "SEARCH MONTAGE!"
Chapter three of this collaborative adventure between :iconinspireddragons: and I.

The quartet of dragons meet Freakazoid, where they make a shocking revelation between him and Mitch...

And Samael more or less blows up half the city.

It's good to be back :iconmitchrixplz::iconlemonzplz:
© 2012 - 2024 Egon-Riker
Comments6
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InspiredDragons's avatar
Ooooh how I enjoyed this! I did read this now that I remember, still; it's like I haven't read it-thats how entertaining it was to see these guys bicker again! Especially the fighting scene between Freak and Samael, huhuhu, the survey. I loved the relax-o-vision, like, "whats gonna happen!? Oh this is gonna be goooood!" Then, "Wait, what?" HA! Awesome.

Also, Dynamite Butt monkeys all over again at the Circus scene Huhuhu