Rage... denial, despair. These are the key ingredients to make the most depressed motherfucker ever born, but someone accidentally mixed in a hint of storytelling; thus Christopher Morris is born—
"Would you put a sock in it?" The age-old narration suddenly snaps, and a volley of darkened javelins falls from the sky as their target hurriedly parries the incoming danger.
'Even my monologue has been interrupted. The hell just happened? There's no way killing that asshole would've made him strong—'
A rupture in the ground raised every hair on his panting self; he jumped off as numerous spikes burst from beneath. His action prolonged his life, but he met the downpour of javelins as a few bore through his body, and he jerked in pain. In the brief second he lost consciousness, he found himself face to face with Uberious warping next to him, delivering a non-fatal right hook.
