Now, there was a hole, and it was an enormous one; smoke flew up and out of the hole. The hole was pitch black. No. It was a solid, cool pool of nothing that stretched into a soundless abyss. Now nothing wasn't what like you'd imagine it to be; the athiests even lied. In this pitch blackness was a fate worse than hell, and hell was a pair of glowing eyes and deformed insanity. No, hell was a gate where the hole of a gouged eye became the glory hole of rape. Coming out of the bulging hole of nothing were monsters.

It happened in some distant void, beyond the reach of human eyes.

A tall young man assaulted a hideous looking creature with a bizarre looking sword.

"Final Fury!" Rapidly swinging it in chains, he cut open and severed the "Spine" in the horrible creature's back. Blood sprayed out. The tall man had green hair, with splotches of red dotting the bottom of his locks. The creature tried lashing back by swiping a multiform claw at his arms, and unfortunately sliced the right arm right off. There wasn't any blood, and the tall man smiled. His name was Kennedy.

"God's grace heals you of your wounds. Cure." A shining light enveloped the tall kid with seaweed-green mane. The arm had been restored, no blood, as if it had never been severed at all.

The monster's hideous eye lazily spun till it died quietly.

"That shitfucker nearly broke my arm off." then he tested his new "arm" and said, "Thanks limey." But he turned around and hissed: more of them were coming, so he rushed off, yelling.

He wasn't alone, since he had plenty of "Allies" following behind.

More of the hideous yet dampened down stupid fuckers came charging in throes.

Shit. Initiate the command.

(Attack)

"Fire Storm." Kennedy raised his hideously designed weapon to the flat sky. As he concentrated…

"RRAAAAAAWWWWWRR!" these monsters looked like flat, meshed up pieces of torn newspaper articles, with two arms like stiff branches made of that same paper, and one large pink eye.

Kennedy looked crazy to say the least for standing in front of those monsters casting a spell, and would've lived to regret it. He would've been dead by the time the monsters were already clawing away at the shirt, the frail looking skin, and decimated pubic area.

But he was still standing, defying logic.

The next thing to happen was when the monster on the right, a pussy that began to edge away, got shot at in the head. There was a flash of red and the sound of somebody drawing a second gun, filling more of the ugly creatures with bullets in their heads. (Expanded hit – 28932 point hit)

"Got HIM."

Finally a red burning flame lit the hideous skin of the papered bastards on fire. For some reason, on top of its' head were numbers going up and up and up. (49999) (32983)

"That's a high damage count, isn't it, runt?"

Kennedy put away his odd shaped weapon—but suddenly replaced it by making the pieces flying in the air and form a bow! "Shut the hell up. I'm busy!"

"You need to always have grace and decency on the battle, you little blighter." A tall bald man, older and uglier than Kennedy, flashed past with a sword and 5 more of the little fuckers went down with a damage count going up high- (789982 point hit) "Perfect."

"You damn old pervert old man. Quit being a fucking show-up."

The old man grinned. "You mean 'Show-off'." Even though at that moment, he'd been gorged through by a needle-like strike. He didn't phase at all. But it still hurt like shit. (2000 damage sustained)

"Old man, you're about to die!"

"Oh please, like I haven't heard that before." Sure enough, the old man effortlessly pulled out the blade from his gut; no blood. "Now then. Yippie-kye-yay, you fuckless little aliens." It was so plainly made light of that Kennedy thought he was going crazy—till he remembered that was impossible. The Old man began to glow with bright light around his body. (skill trigger) "Moonlight Round!" His accent sounded the way he was "dressed". His black sword swung in a high arc, creating the illusion of a Moon falling down and ripping the aliens in half. The blood making the inside their little, disgusting bodies began to spray out. Again:

"God's mercy heal your soul. Heal!" A light came around the old man, curing him of his injuries. The horrible gnash near his old-styled fat gut sealed up like new.

Around the odd Kennedy were hundreds of other voices, all which were under the heavy tension of battle.

Kennedy saw one of the aliens jumping down on him, attaching itself on his back. "Damn anime physics. Why'd get distracted long enough for that to happen! NGGH!" Then Kennedy grunted and spread out both arms, creating enough force to blow off the hideous-looking thing. "Now for a little fun, I suppose."

"Aiming Arrow! (Skill Trigger Activated)" He show a yellow-glowing high energy arrow that pocked the little bastard in the ass and grazed the papery insides to mulch. Millions of indescribable organs flew out as the arrow jumped out- (32093 point hit)

Kennedy got happy and yelled, "Cool Blimey! I kicked Duece!" Then laughed.

But at that point the bald old man in black suit looked over his shoulder like he was being watched, and shrieked, "Stop pretending to be ENGLISH, YOU JACKASS!"

"Whatever." At his bid, the parts assembling to be an even bigger Sword, one that Kennedy tried holding up with two hands. "Class changed."

(Skill Trigger) Kennedy turned around to face 3 more of the paper aliens, grinding his teeth together. "Never gets old." Then in a flash, his body felt like he was on something high, but he was only an inch away from the aliens. "You're dead. Radiant Twin MOONS!" The Gigantic blade swung up in a left swing, then he pulled it down and swung it up back to the high Right. (4383 point hit)

"Yes!"

POW!

Kennedy was knocked back. "SHIT!" He couldn't last with his internal ribs cracking like fireworks. It was a nasty sound; the creature caused it to happen. (3389 point damage) (343/900009)

"I feel weak."

"Oh stop acting like a baby!" A pink blur flashed past Kennedy like a dove. She ducked down the high swing of the huge alien son of a bitch, snarling down on her. (Skill Trigger) "Nova Eruption!" She raised herself to full height and cast the spell with amazing speed. The Spell effect came, as a high beam of unholy fire pouring down and causing the papery creature to suddenly depreciate like wilting flower. (2839 point hit) Right in its' place was a pool of blood, and a faint pentagonal pattern.

"Healing power, come upon this wretched soul-!"

"Shut the hell up! I'm am NOT Wretched!" Kennedy screamed, "And couldn't it be Rei on healing!"

"Just shut up and be healed." (Restored 8329 HP) Kennedy rejuvenated completely. "All RIGHT!"

"RRRRROWWWWWWWRRRR!" Creaking and groaning with half of all the horrible parts making it up already missing, it blew up, blowing the shrieking young lady back. Kennedy caught her in arms with new.

"Thanks, Genius. You've just scored me 50 more seconds in bed with a beautiful pink woman. Kakow."

The pink-haired girl, Kannono, sending a fist into Kennedy's smart-allic mouth, ungratefully returned this comment. "FUCK off!" she screamed, huffing a little bit shamefully. On the broad-rimmed side, Kennedy saw silhouettes, and indications of blood. He ran up to the next enemy and jumped down with a "HYYYEEEAAAAAAH!"

SLASH! (~ instant kill ~)

And the second one after it he turned clockwise with a spin and, "EEYYYAAHH!"

SLASH! (~ instant kill ~)

And the third he slammed down his giant Sword-thing with a Tiger's rage. "DIE!"

SLASH! (~ instant kill ~)

More simply came to life, more disfigured, ugly collaborations of newspapers, drooling blood out of their mouths. But that didn't stop Kennedy, or hurt his feelings, actually. The tool in his hand went freeform for a second, then separated into pieces at the might of his will. The pieces flew together in a rapid circle, spinning like a roulette of blades.

"!"

SLASH! (~ instant kill ~)

SLASH! (~ instant kill ~)

SLASH! (~ instant kill ~)

SLASH! (~ instant kill ~)

SLASH! (~ instant kill ~)

Then the pieces reformed to become the flat broadsword again.

"!"

"Oh Crap." Kennedy went bug-eyed as he saw an even bigger version of the Bug, with 50 pole-stretching arms and a big, convulsing eye. But Kennedy smiled. The reason was…

BANG! BANG! BANG! ( ~ 48,483 point hit ~ )

Metal pellets shot the fucker square in the eye, making it crack and then bleed. Kennedy jumped back than ran past the oversized monster. The blood never looked so real. It cascaded down into an ocean of blood, and his body was making a bump sound, vibrating

Kannono was there right behind the beast fighting off another furiously. For a skinny little girl, she's got spunk. And a huge-ass sword. He was distracted, long enough for Noise to drill a hole through his head.

Normally for any normal human that was an extremely fatal blow, piercing the cerebellum and cerebral cortex into ugly pinks strands soaked with sticky blood. But Kennedy didn't shriek, or blow to pieces, or even budge an inch. He waited for it and…

(White Magic)

"Cure." Someone had cast a white light over Kennedy's punctured skull (Blood pouring over like a water fountain) and healed him, and incredibly made the huge hole in the skull shrink back into itself, good as new. (Restored: 8939 HP) He was restored completely, like he had NEVER been scratched or fatally struck at all!

Smirking, Kennedy swung back and cut the ugly Noise into nice halves. (enemy K.O.)

The next wave was coming down heavy on them from a northerly direction. The emerald-haired kid looked up in seconds and said as calmly as the time of day, "You're picking the wrong fight."

(Black Spell)

"Thunder BLADE!" came the bellowing call, but it wasn't from Kennedy. It came from a source that was slightly more effeminate. The sound of someone swishing a sword up into the air could be heard. The dark sky opened up like a giant door to heaven and a Blade drowned in crackling light descended and upon impact with the growing creatures, took them down in one awestruck slash of a powerful lightning wave. All of the Noise burst into tidal front of devil red.

Kennedy turned in the direction of the one who cast the spell and yelled, "Goddamn good job, Sn- AKCHPTH!" Ken jumped and saw a deformed hand of dead colors grabbing at his feet. "Shit!"

(attack) "Eat THIS!" while Kennedy swished the flat large broadsword in his hand it warped into a thinner, sharper-looking version of itself with an angry groan. Then Ken thrust it into the ground, but with such force that he unintentionally blew away an entire field of Noise crawling at the base of Ken's brown soles. Now Ken was standing in the crater of cracked glass. (4893 point hit) Infuriated, Ken suddenly exploded with power emanating in a wide-spread field. "BASTARDS!"

More of the Noise, now in 2 Giant-sized, constantly-melting freaks, shrieked for a piece of skin. They didn't succeed, within 45 deadly, invisible slashes by an unseen force; during the subsequent death of both monsters, came the terrible cry of, "Worthless, ugly worms. You can never hope to crush our resolve." (38934 hit)

"Enough of the DRAMTICS, you stupid asshole," Kennedy groaned, not exactly awed by his red-eyed ally's unnecessary denouncing of already dead enemies.

But those same "Dead" enemies resurrected back to life in a reverse-melting process, merging into a 5 arms, straight ugly thing with two wrinkly orbs hanging down at the bottom as it's legs. Both Kennedy and his ally turned and started running off to cover some distance, but the hideous penis-looking thing roared and commenced chasing. "Son of a BITCH!"

"Who has a penchant for unnecessary soliloquizing, now!"

"Oh shut the fuck up!"

The huge monster swung 2 of it's five arms down like a hawk, and unfortunately snatched one. "Shit!" Kennedy started kicking his legs in reflex—why does stuff like this always happen to him all the time? "SHIIIIIIIT! And it really doesn't help that I'm getting up by something that looks like a goddamned fleshy banana with two rotten Oranges!"

"Will just drop that little habit of twisted language ALREADY!"

"Kinda in trouble here."

ROOOOWWWWWWRRR!

The young man who stood below, with raven-colored hair, opened both eyes wide as they turned red with a symbol of a dove in each of them. "I command you to RELEASE HIM!"

It seemed worthless to order an inappropriately shaped freak of nature to do that, but an ever-widening field of sea red popped against the single eye of the disgusting monster. A moment of stagnancy followed, and the claws crushing Kennedy's bones like a chain begin to unhinge. Kennedy fell with a plop, both eyes suddenly reading with the word "Tilt" on each of them, before popping back to normal and scrambling away. Every time it happened was no less painful.

The monster did a mad dance of fury, clutching his assaulted eye in hurting. The eye was its' most precious organ.

Kennedy at once called out, "Hey! Do a Scan on this guy!"

Someone out of view approved his request and said, "Understood. Performing scan." It had a mechanical effect in its' voice.

Then a "Circle" suddenly jumped into view and formed a massive "Ring" around the entire monster, and the mechanical sounding voice explained the following:

"Testocicles. Lvl: 324 monster. HP: 344532/777083 MP: 0. Weak against Ice Element."

"Ice element?" came the thickly accented voice of someone from far away.

Despite their earlier argument, two thin lines of Ice were seen "curving through the air at high speed at the Testocicles. One voice yelled, "Raging Ice Fang!"

Both lines curved into air with a loop-de-loop and smacked the face of ugly beast. (~ 79349 point hit!~) Ice pelted the ridiculous monster like a ball of mud. It fell on its' knees- if they COULD be called that –let out a sharp cry.

But instead of exploding into tiny frozen pieces, the monster remained. Badly torn, but it remained.

Kennedy's face blew up like a cream puff. Litterally. Once it deflated, he let out an exhausted breath and yelled, "I'm getting sick of this shit. Why doesn't it die?"

He heard the fancy voice from earlier say, "Good heavens! It's a persistent pest! I will NOT tolerate such absolute impertinence!" The monster roared even louder - Kennedy steadied himself. The thing in his hand vibrated with the vigor of a telephone wire. The other fancy refined voice yelled, "worm! I will CUT you down to size!" A flash of silver and a commanding knight's uniform breezed past Kennedy like thunder. A flash of steel was raised, full of ill wind. A second flash, (attack) suddenly cut open a rift in the Testocicles' disgusting wrinkly body. (38004 point hit)

"RAAH! HAH! HAH! HYAH!" In a four hit combo, the 4th hit was a spiralling vertical drop! (28932 point hit!)

Unfortunately, the white haired man in armor felt the sickly claws of Tecstocicles punching him in the gut, making him sail all the way back past Kennedy. The impact scarred half of his face into hideous disfiguring. His ear had been cut off too. Kennedy eyes went back to angry slits at the monster, which was back on its rampage. Oh shit. And it was coming over to them. "Somebody heal Alexei!" he screamed.

Too late. The monster reached them and raised a claw to strike down and deal serious damage. Kennedy held up his bizzare looking weapon, which now sported the appearance of a massive Battle Axe. But he doubted THAT would enough to defend himself. His eyes desperately went back to the white haired man he referred to as Alexei.

SWIPE!

Kennedy fell down with a THUNK! and his body started flashing purple. Horrified, he knew EXACTLY what it meant, staring bug-eyed at himself. "AAAGH! I'm poisoned!"

"Esuna!" A green flow fell over Kennedy, disappearing in rippling rings. (Status Affliction Removed: Kennedy)

Kennedy smiled and would've thanked the tan-haired lady, but he had to jump back on his feet. Alexei was struggling to get up, and he didn't once acknowledge that the left side of his face was now a disfigured bloody mess. At the same time, a flamming-haired young woman slid and ducked the swiping fire of the disgusting monster and sent a flurry of fists crashing into its' base. The numbers "Appearing" over the monster's "head" racked up in chains of 5. (29032 x 5 point hit)

The monster didn't die. All around Kennedy he could see plenty of the others fighting furiously. One of the deformed and most deranged creatures kept the rain of bullets coming, packed with his rage, followed a positively more normal looking human dressed in all black-toned blue conjuring up a symbol behind his back and taking enemies out in one shot. The deranged horse figure's tail whipped up into a frenzied storm; the horse jumped up into the air with a terrific battle yell and switched out a new weapon - A Guitar. He sent the Guitar Crashing with a reverberating THRUM-UM-UM-UM-UM-UM-UM-UM-UM-UM-UM-UM-UM-UM, down on two enemies' heads simultaneously. (DOUBLE K.O.)

"Shit. You know sometimes he can be a tad more brutal than I," Kennedy said. A roar from the monster behind broke his focus on his allies. But it was a painful reminder, when Kennedy had been struck in the back - (23434 point damage suffered) "AACKPTH!"

"Watch your position in the battle, you FOOL!" On the other side, way out of Kennedy's view, someone or something that had a long nose with two horns and silly-looking hat fired off a volley of high impact shots. The shots laid waste into the enemies one by one, sinking into their skulls like needles. He didn't say anything or act as if he would announce his attacks. He unleashed an attack that had a name "Appear" over his head, the title being, (Spark Bullet) and jumped with lightning reflexes. He grabbed an enemy and bit down into it's skull, letting the blood burst out like a fruit's nectar.

Other things happened, out of Kennedy's view: the girl he referred to as Kannono was assisting an extremely vulgar and hairy-looking man with a skinny appearance and rough tail push other enemies into an all but empty spot where rapidly disappearing corpses of Noise were dropping like flies. The bald man's mouth curved into an ugly twisted smile. The sword danced perpendicular to his ghost-like movements, as unpredictable as a cat's; he was true insanity. Enemies were flying then disappearing into the Air when their HP went down to 0. Explosions were abound and rang out like a black bell, reaching the rhythm of a terrible bolero.

Another woman cast a long shadow over hapless gurgling enemies before sending a wave of purple that cut through them like butter. A chilling wind blew through and reduced their bodies into dust. Other armies of shitty Noise hadn't even realized they'd been cut through, and had only a second to think about why they saw the other half of their bodies before they didn't think anymore. More them weren't just cut into twos. Sometimes, they were cut into threes. Claws flashed in the darkness. Claws that diced and breezed through 2 enemies at a time like stacks of papers. They fell and mountains of blood gushed out like geysers. The wielder watched himself go like a time bomb; his tongue jumped out of his mouth and licked his blue skin and silver whiskers. There wasn't any logic to why he breezed through killing Noise; no words, no point hesitating. No time for second thoughts. Like the rest of them he was risking himself within an inch of his life. While his claws flashed in the dark, a mightier tier of power struck one enemy down with a heavy blow, coming from a fighter whose clothes were in strong tones of white. A flaming haired woman was knocking enemies left right and center. A white haired man swung his spear around in a massive arc.

"God's grace give you strength! With divine protection! Healing!" cried a girl's voice, and a pure light fell over Alexei. Like magic, the wounds that opened up all over the left half of his face suddenly sealed himself. The bleeding from where the orifice opened sealed up faster than a container lid. Now Alexei was back on his feet. (HP Restored)

"Absolutely... unbelievable..." Alexei snarled. To be humiliated in this way was such a horrible experience for him. It made him sick to his stomach- which surprised him as well.

The anger boiling in Kennedy, like the blood gushing out of the minor scratches, spilled over into the grip of his axe-like weapon. "O-o-o-o-o-oh That did it, THAT DID IT." His body and form rippled.

~ Animation Switch ~

Kennedy's form, not in clothing or hair color, shifted to something thinner than before. The shape of his head became exaggerated and large. His mouth assumed a silly "U" shape, and a the brown coat shrank. The eyes that were colored moss green, were now replaced by white circles with simple black dots.

~ Speed increased. Def - decreased. Attack stablized. ~

His change was complete. Kennedy disappeared out of sight, and out of range from the Testocicles's automatically grown new arm. The swipe missed Kennedy. (MISS)

"RIGHT HERE." The voice boomed behind the Testocicles. Since it had no eyes, it detected things purely by a mechanical instinct. But aside from its' massive strength, it couldn't detect how fast its' prey was. And angry. The next second that followed was accompanied by a single-

SLASH! (CRITICAL - 2098343 Overkill)

Kennedy's battle yell was insane.

The monster let out a roar while the gigantic gnash that opened suddenly let loose a geyser of gooey red juice all over the battlefield. It erupted into a hopping dance, like a chicken that lost its' head, as more blood effused from the ever-widening ugly wound. Then it stopped. It STOPPED in one place, in one position, and even the blood fountain froze! The entire frame of the monstrous figure shivered like a bad cold, as it's body reverted into a bright red frame. A sound like a vortex collapsing within itself could be heard, and the sound kept getting heavier when the red frame trembled and faded into nothing.

For unknown reasons, the creature called Testocicles' massive strength built into it unleashed a highly dangerous flash that did nothing beyond letting out a hidden shock-wave, destroying everything else that was hideously deformed and misshapen beyond comprehension. That's right: only more Noise. To a much lesser extent, a much, MUCH lesser extent, the bright sphere of Light from the monster's core illuminated the entirely dark battlefield. It illuminated the airborn traces of another strong enemy's imminent appearance. If you were there (Just try to imagine it, I'm not asking you for the entire world, just a few minutes of your "creativity"):

You would've seen Kennedy vibrate and become clear like the surface of a water, before returning to his original form. Maybe his eyes appeared kindly, but they had no life in them, no sign of true liveliness in them, nothing. Just empty. The Ax weapon resumed its' standard shape of a blood-stained broadsword. But if you looked at his eyes, you could just see right through them, like the surface of pool of water, but they resisted the flow of time; they didn't ripple, or curl or falter in the wake of pure madness. They were stagnant, A rock worn away in the stream running past him eternally, and within that eternity, was where God could only reside and oversee all things.

When everything was illuminated, you couldn't shut out the sight of the girl in a sky blue dress, raising her sword high. You could see just as well as anybody else. She had a black ribbon holding down the baby pink strands of hair. Her only goal now and forever was being at the beckon of Kennedy. You saw her well-deep affection. You watched her move with such grace, she shames our petty ignorance definition of beauty.

You saw the old man in butler's outfit looking ridiculous. At least, he thought he did, even though he was only killing to stay alive. You saw the old man using a sword, stabbing an enemy in such a realistic and heavy way, that your mouth would've just dropped open. You saw his loyalty, even if that loyalty was brought about through being driven to heights of insanity.

You saw other things.

You'd see the hairy dog wasn't a dog at all, but obviously a smart-looking anthropomorph of a Coyote. The wicked gleam in his eye, the cunning smile, the pulsing muscles in his body, the twitching tails, the sticks of dynamite flying through the air like incoming missiles. Then you'd see him get smashed and the blood comes flying out, but he- it- regenerates since it's drawing on another power. He was practically all over the entire battlefield. You saw his villainous grin, even if he wasn't a villain. You saw he would never give up. You felt his canine instinct take over when dodging fatal crashes. You saw him teleporting from one spot to another instantly, by way of a self-induced portal.

You saw the accompanying human girl with eyes just as empty as Kennedy's, but they made her look more or less like a living mannequin, a doll. You saw her using a thrumming bow, shooting arrows that flashed right on cue into her shaft without a second wasted. The pressure of the arrows piercing an enemy's skull blew her evergreen skirt in the wind, pushing her back as well. You saw her numb surface mask an introverted, despairing world. You saw all of this in her eyes, which burned with the color of a fiery sunset.

And logic be damned, you saw plenty of other weird things in the void.

You saw an albino-skinned reptile with a rough surface, and rough woven hat. Because without it, you wouldn't even recognize him. He was mute, and not irrational. He tasted fear. His actions merged instinct together with tactics. His yellow skinned flashed in the dazzling light. His eyes were like fire out of Hell. You saw his gentle eyes, making every effort to atone, and not embracing the futility of atonement being in vain.

You saw misshapen enemies devourer each other. And you saw that they had a red accent trapping their eyes. You saw their one-dimensional gazes wander till they fell upon each other and obey a single command: descend to Hell. Such aggravating Logic, but they persisted anyway. Now they were lost to the whole devouring of the Devil forever. You saw the eternal pain and suffering in the eyes of the man who "Commanded" them to die. By looking directly into their eyes. You saw the bitterness and chilling smile of a man who in a different form and different "Side", bade the world to listen to him, only to turn traitor and seek the completion of a personal agenda. Now if nothing else, he became a pitiful excuse for a martyr. You saw that with one immaculate wave of the arm, he could read and see ALL an enemy's tactics and choose the best one, and overtake an enemy without leaving any trace that he was responsible. You saw that he was a man who had "Seen" his own death, and looking back, realized what an epic failure it was, how vain, and self-glorified it was. It disgusted him that it could come out of anybody's mind- something so ingenious and well-played, something that he knew was beyond sinful. He took his own life.

You saw an elderly looking imaginary creature staying as far away from the insanity as much as possible. You saw he was one who desired everything to be in order and straightforward; he wished for no nonsense even if this entire scene was nothing but pure nonsense. He desired proper manners, but his stance was lackluster and completely ignorant of the manners he so desired. His hands had scars in places you couldn't see, concealed in pearly white gloves. You would've seen scars singed like lines of crevasses in his fur. You saw his gray floppy ears aggressively blown back along with his white moustache, trying to withstand the powerful spells he condemned upon enemies. Some burned to a crisp in wake. You saw enemies reflected in his monocle freezing in a chilling wind. You saw them consumed by the mighty jaws of the terra-bound dragon that dwelt in the Earth. You saw a terrible sword of lightning descend and fray enemies. You saw enemies lit up like candles in darkness when struck by heated air. You couldn't see emotion in his eyes, because most of the time his eyes were closed. You thought he was old, but only in appearances. From how he was "Born" into one life, he was actually very young.

You saw the thespian. Or at least, if you were a lower form of pestilence that fed on poison, all you that you cared to see was a lion. You saw that contradiction of twisted minds depraved, sinful and foolish human lies. You saw ears that heard all of them and laughed in their faces, dismissing the notion. You saw him raise his sword high into the air, and aid the imaginary. You saw the second sword of Lightning tremble and shove away the darkness, impaling all the enemies. You saw his face, and ridiculous as it sounds, you saw sentimentalism mixed with overlapping waves of unspeakable horror, only because a pitiful waste of sinful human garbage stole nearly everything from him in seven days.

You saw a fiery haired woman sending blow after blow of pure force into the enemies' center; her reflexes were so unreal, the sight would've made your skin crawl. You saw the fire in her eyes like a bat out of hell. You saw her outrun the enemy, and no one could keep up with her.

And finally, you saw one who tried so hard to enforce Justice. You saw one caught in the grips of confusion, fear, paranoia, and hate. You saw how badly he wished to come to grips with forgiving someone he despised. You saw he was subject of a twisted favoritism. You saw his bullets flash through like Lightning, like divine mercy from the crack of the trigger. You saw something had died in his eyes. You saw the eyes. You saw emptiness. Emptiness that was as deep as Kennedy's. You saw that unlike anybody else, he'd seen and been through a nightmare that was worse than any shit or tribal-born myth imaginable. And he relived that nightmare, the images of everything and everyone he believed was his and his alone taken from him instantly. He couldn't forget if he wanted to. You saw his primitive notion of Justice. You saw how bravely he thought, even if he was the exact opposite. You saw his soot black tail swishing in the demanding current of air, and you saw him pull out a second weapon he'd been concealing up until now, a... massive 6 string Spanish guitar (!), big enough to not just clobber enemies, but to bust open their skulls like shells.

You can see all of this - and you're confused. You wonder why in the world these individual products of someone else's imaginations are brought together in a group, let alone fighting. Their existence was reserved entirely for humor. But they made the choice to do this instead. And you're confused as to why they're using weapons and magic and unorthodox fighting styles to kill enemies. Most of all, what ticks you off is the faint glow of Green around Kennedy's wrist.

You're frightened from staring into their faces; you don't get why they're DOING this- You want to just yell at them and tell them to explain themselves. You want them to stop doing this wrong thing. It didn't make any sense, and you wanted it to be something a little more sensible, easier for you to look at. You want to make a loud, ANGRY objection to this wickedness.

But the battle's over... the Light faded and you can't see anyone or anything. There's nothing there and no one to watch. And when the second monster comes along, you will reach the end of your sanity. You will want to leave. You won't want to be here anymore.


(Scene Change; ?)

Coins clinked into the dirty glass. A man with a dirty face went upside down with his gaptoothed grin. He crapped at another stinkin' bet to an obviously crooked game of tatts.

"Al 'ight! the blimmey shant's a shivering Jemmy! Come un, come all! spend a sprat, a pence, or even a bull!"

Two beggering kids sneered at the miserable fuck as he tredged off to the darkness and the wild lights of the 1000 yard stretch of midnight plaza. The night air was ablaze with noise, stuffed shirts, bucktoothed philanthropists in silly top hats. The streets were an ocean of discarded fag boxes (British terminology for Cigarettes, in case some of you ask.) and torn posters decorated in gibberish of 20 syllables each. The poles on cobbled corners were sometimes broken and damp after a nice long soak in the sewers, and occasionally disease addled piss. You wouldn't find vendors on no street, and wherever you went the rank bile of dog shit filled the air and mixed with evergreen like sweet whiskey and it choked your thoughts.

Air reeked with rotten meat. There was nowhere to go and nothing to see but crowded builds and complexes built upon steep hills. Weeds were grass, sewers were second to a dog's home, and the pale-skinned man in green coat juggling little gold shiny things were living the good life, while fucking the welfare checks of wealthy merchants with gold chain monocles. Some times it was wives in the reprising roles. Sometimes the games they offered weren't for any public merriment; sometimes they stretched the envelope and raised the odds. They had meat markets down here in the gallows. They made a lovely limey on surplus organ markets- no it was nothing like medical transplants.

A minor note made by the paranoid tabloids trying to get in on the good story was the "Donation" booths set up in all kinds of dazzling gloss, where human bargains were all the rage. All this in the midst of beat up carnival rides that didn't work anymore, earth-colored bells with stitched cracks, floating spirits of the unborn, and dirty faces beneath dirty coats wanting nothing to do with it, some trying to retain what little pieces they had of their meaningless lives. And the population signs would read "Hobrectston Villa- 28328 served"

But high above the dirty streets of the pitiful carnival were higher districts less populated. There were still higher streets of gyrating twisted aggravation, already ripped asunder by potholes. It was hard luck going down them, especially since the signs were unreadable. Some feared that the decrease of populous was because of the ghouls. Other thought those rumours were the by-product of the already disgruntled nationality, or wanker's bullshit. There were narrow alleys and not many people were stupid enough to be walking at 12:00 at night. They were smart enough to be not recognised if that counted for anything, but the realistic streets made cosy to a familiar company and that company was silence. To make a note of something I apparently said earlier, the streets were realistic. Almost so real you could eat off it, or step right onto a cobblestone or take a stray rock and throw it at one of the street lamps and break it, just like all the other thousands of others in disrepair. But despite this, the whole scene remained untouched like an ancient ruin. The street lamps stayed on.

He stood out amongst the background like a sore thumb and it didn't bother him in the least. It was a satire on an american underview of popular western heroes. For all intentional purposes, there is no way to properly say who or what this character is, so we stick with the given definition of anthropomorphic cartoon horse. He was wearing a straight collar jacket and stupid derby, instead of his signature red-gallon hat. And for all the hot shit he believes he is, the fact remains that Malt-whatever-his-name-is is dead. I'm sure he's probably giving you the middle finger, but that's physically impossible. He has hooves for hands, and he was sitting his ass on the top of a trashcan lid while letting a fag hang from his mouth. A lot of people in the audience had sour looks on their faces like they'd eaten something bad. (They didn't come here to see this.) When he had worthwhile purpose in life, he made people laugh, and he didn't "kill" anything, and he called himself Quickdraw McGraw. He drew a heavy breath, looked less than pleased and suddenly let out a choice of unsolicited words.

"FUCK you."

Quickdraw shoved both hooves down into the holes of his jacket.

"You HEARD me." He lowered an eyelid and spat in the direction of the voice describing the story. (I'm pissed that he would do this while I'm trying to narrate a badass story.) The fag dropped from his mouth.

Then a green-haired limey retard jumped from behind the freaky horse shape. It was Kennedy. This was Kennedy, and he had no surname, and spoke with something between a cockney accent and a jaunty american 1930's voice.

Kennedy kept walking around, his face going so many ways, his mind was a bungled traffic. "They say that video games have now become the "5th" network. Stuff and non-sense as 93 minutes of usage per day and gamers deprive themselves of the things they need. Nutrition... and your Brain! Affecting 4 - 45 year old adults, they incite an interesting side-effect if you'd like to hear: Addiction, depression, and a cold beer. They're a GREAT way to practice taking an aggressive handle on a simple situation like riding a bike or using the loo or shooting a ball into the net. Or maybe committing acts of unthinkable evil out of love for a game you've played."

He paused, his face was starting to melt into a frigid black. "How satisfying is that, when WE, denizens of the Video Game World have a bunch of stupid fucks pretending their ass off to be totally gay icons like LINK, or Banjo-Kaz-OOKIE, or those extremely manly "Square-enix" Characters, or that limey Dragon Quest retard, or practicing their Flamingo Tai Jutsu Kunfu Jesus Magic YAKETY-YAKETY-YAK, which is TOTALLY Retarded! And you get pissed watching me fight, what crap. What DOES the scouter say about the number on that?"

"To NOT risk a DBZ: Ba budoki- babudokich- babudo-kic- fuck it, those corny fighting game refferences, I'd say well over- wait, since when does it matter? I thought our greatest worry was an uncreative cosplay!"

Kennedy shivered. "I keep forgetting about that. I get headaches from just thinking about how most of those Naruto/Sasuke sketches are so much like those Gay-Pride rallies; I could just screw off in a ditch somewhere and DIE."

"Worse part about that was getting pushed into accepting Bill Gates crappy Xbox LIVE technology which gives me free internet, which I ALREADY have on a laptop, I mean, seriously, how stupid is it to make people have something they all ready own 5 times over! They DROOL over it, lick it up, fornicate on it, and worship it like an idol or a god."

Quickdraw let out a laugh and said, "They make useless objects, they want to profit off of 'em. But they're not pandering to the needs of a demographic. The well has dried. The shoe's on the other foot, the Gravy Train is gone. They want to satisfy their hunger." a moment of afterthought led the anthromorph to declare, "Did they see what I did? I cut off a demon's head. They're sadistic and depraved enough as it is, they should appreciate it. They don't. And it makes me sick."

Kennedy talked fast. "You're trying to appeal to a sympathy. Don't be irresponsibly brash. Or to put a simple ring on it, it's more complicated than draining the pool. It's all about marketing yourself- It's about respect and using some big-ass fancy moral of ruling order to establish a healthy connection with people to build up their characters in their eyes of civil society that only wishes to adhere to the visual protection of the children. It's about doing as told and taking the stupid Hi-Potion. It is about needlessly throwing your rapidly decaying body into the fire of a sick ego-maniacal entity at the command of a drunken 24 year old Game freak who lost the magic of living 8 months ago. It's about finding respect in being cheap." Kennedy paused, looked like he was thinking, then broke into such an exaggerated grin, Quickdraw broke into one of his own. Kennedy broke the fourth wall to the audience in an aside and yelled, "Unfortunately, I'm a by-product being fucking cheap without a SHRED of repsect in my SOUL, and I don't give a shit! Oh WAIT JUST THE FUCKING MINUTE! AM I SAYING BAD THINGS! AM I BEING RUDE!"

Kennedy cut at his neck with just a simple flick. Blood started flowing out. His head fell off. Then the shuddering body turned around to bend over and pick it up, only for the pants he was wearing, a pair of brown corduroys, to fall down, exposing one of the worst asscracks you'd ever seen. As he turned around, the penis at the center was by far, unusually long and it sparkled. The body casually placed the nasty, smiling head of Kennedy right back on top, his face a lit with a ghastly, ugly joyousness. Then he pulled his pants up. "AM I OVER-THE-TOP!" He shrieked.

If to prove this point alone, Quickdraw came up and stood there as he handed Kennedy one of his guns and he took it. Only for Kennedy to jumped back pull the trigger in a flash. The gunshot was rude and petrifying, as the bullet grazed through the poor anthromorph's skull like tissue, disintegrating mot of the head as plenty of head and mouth chunks were blown clean off where the skull was. "AM I SICK!" He snapped, tossing the gun aside and then proceeding to jump behind the now dead cartoon, and unzipping his pants. Kennedy's face made many wrong shapes as he jumped right on top of the skull, and thrust his whole fucking penis into the new orifice. "Am I a fag!" He yelled at the body. He began thrusting till he had satisfaction, sighing as the cum came spilling out...

And then was promptly thrown off by the independant body of the horse who had his head suddenly "Reform" and take a second gun, shooting Kennedy right in his dick. From the small hole blood as well as cum started pooring out, and Kennedy was howling, and shrieking in terror. Walking past a solid glass window, one of his floundering hands smashed against it, cracking it and damaging his hand in the process. The Quickdraw body tumbled and began humping the ground. Both characters had demented, nasty expressions on each face, and both were mutilating and humiliating themselves. Till eventually, Kennedy, sick of what happened, walked over and sent a leg crashing behind the wriggling body of Quickdraw - all this as his hand throbbed uncontrollably and bled. The horse got up and was planning to choke the stupid Kennedy who started wiping his face with the blood-stained hand, and was promptly sucker-punched in the face, right back into the trash can. Kennedy grinned, and turned. His mouth curled up, his facial features went between pale and terrifying, and he snarled in an echoey voice: Am I SCREWED UP IN THE HEAD FOR YA!"

It went past the point of breaking the fourth wall and he screamed in your face. "I'm A LOT OF THINGS! I SUBVERT THAT STUPID IDEA! I'M AS cheap as you're gonna GET!"

I will tell you that out of nowhere, without the slightest sound or provocation, a whole other number of differently animated characters made unsolicited appearances with name tags flashing over their heads like internet icons. Why? Because they were flash messages. They were made to identify. Among these, the more important ones worth mention, were the ones sneering down on you and me, were These are the characters of an RPG that never hit the shelves, because they contradict the notion of being anybody's mindless puppet.

They were all laughing. Because they didn't have anybody using stupid analog controllers or Dualshock (pfft, more like Dualshit) controllers to make them do things that were retarded like walking straight over cliffs, or slamming yourselves into a wall or eating the wrong e-food. You can't just pause them, cause it'd be a reminder of how much you suck at video games. You can't hide your face from them cause they see you in the menu or if you wanted to adjust the monitor simply because it's not fair you have to sit at an improper angle. No reason to it, no selfish gain at hand. You are a perfectly ignorant specimen. Nothing personal, really. They laughed at you. They were just laughing at you.

And they were very much alive. While they all dissappeared into unnecessarily bright light balls they were alive. And into the air they sped like missiles and they were still very much alive. You still heard their laughter in an echo and they were still alive. While the battery on your lame and inefficient game system ran, you knew they were still alive. And there wasn't any disc in the insert Cartridge of the port, and you knew they were still alive.

And while you probably decided to move out of the hobbel of your parent's poorly furnished basement these completely "Differentiated" Characters were still alive.

And while you have a life they'd be still alive.

And when you're dying they'd be still alive.

And when you're dead they'd be still alive.

And when you lay cozy in heaven they'd be still alive.

Or suffering in hell they'd be still alive.

And though it was night and completely silent they'd be still alive.

And though you don't know the full story they'd still be alive.

And as you find out for yourself they're still alive.

And as you begin piecing the answers they're still ALIVE.

And as you've lost 30 minutes of the precious life God gave you to reading this, they were still alive.

Still ALIVE.


(A/N: edited)

A/N: Apparently I said something about "Fags" earlier right? Well, "Fags" are British cigarettes. :( It's sad. I admire the British culture but that's all I have to show for it.

And yes, kudos to Valve for not coming at me with knives or oxidising gun pistols for the obvious reference to Portal, the Video game spin-off from Half-Life.

And now I call Disclaimers War - Copyright (©)

Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends - Craig McCraken (Owned by Turner Broadcast - Cartoon Network)

Camp Lazlo - Joe Murray (TB - CNN)

Catscratch - Doug Tennapel (Nickelodeon)

Hanna-Barbera - (Namely, William Hanna and Joe Barbera)

Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion - Gorō Taniguchi & Ichirō Ōkouchi

Looney Tunes - TB, (Warner Bros)., Mike Maltese Friz Freeling, Chuck Jones, Mel Blanc

Tales of the World/ TOTW2 Radiant Mythology - Kosuke Fujishima (Namco Bandai)

I DO NOT OWN OR POSSESS THE PROPER PAPERWORK RIGHTS TO ANY OF THE ABOVE-MENTIONED. THEY ARE OWNED BY THEIR RESPECTIVE NETWORK COMPANIES.

The Character, "Kennedy" is mine alone, I own the rights.

End.

GRAPHIK - Book 1 (reanimated)