As they battled, six black men rappelled down silently like
ravens gagged, and took up positions behind the creaky benches of
the lecture hall.They slowly but surely hefted up their weapons and
trained them at the Lich King, who was cackling away like a chicken
smoking pot..
The pointman raised his hand, and the team slowly trooped down from
the top of the hall, guns raised, eyes focused, yet he did not
notice a banana skin on the stairs.His foot landed on the banana
skin, it slid, he slipped, he yelled in surprised, his finger
pressed down on the trigger and bullets emptied into the air.The
rest of this innately incompetent team fell like cards alongside
their leader
The Lich King turned around, nose spewing noxious sulphur, and he
uttered a few words.The floorboards creaked and bent noisily, and
threatened to roll and smother the downed SWAT troopers, who were
gasping for breath.
A shot rang out, the Lich King took a sudden round in the
face.Blood dripping and brain tissue leaking out, he turned to see
who it was...it was John Wayne incarnate..and his trusty little
friend, the Magnum.
