A/N: Daxter writes freestyle goth poetry in his spare time.
'I killed you, you aggrivated me too far
Feasted on the blood dripping from the bullet holes in your neck
Like a vampire in a donation clinic
Little did I realize your little clinic was for diseased patients only
And disease crept into my system infectious
You dirty mother fucker, now I have AIDS
But that's okay, I had a premonition
A negative being as myself can't expect much good
Please come in Death, I like it slow and painful'
"Yes, this is my masterpiece for the ages!" Yelled a peculiar little animal. "Daxter, that is the name that will be hailed as the poet supremo for the century.. no, millenium! I will be immortalized in my work forever!"
All of a sudden Daxter realized that his Green haired buddy Jak was standing right over his back, for who knew how long.
"The weirdness just never ends with you man. I thought I was the darker one here."
Daxter scoffed, "No way, I've always been way darker than you, even if you were pumped full of dark eco for 2 years! I just concentrate it all into my amazing works, isn't this brilliant?"
Jak began to snicker, then laugh and howl until he fell smack on his behind drawing streams of blood from his tongue as his teeth clamped down in it. Even then he still wailed like a hyena.
"No way, my poetry is way better. Lemme show you."
All daxter could do was stare and comment "You look so sexy with blood running down your mouth.."
Jak left and returned with his latest work..
'I grind your intestines between a rock and a hard place
Savouring the rotting remnants of feces pouring out the ends
Decomposition, decay, the skeletons whispering within the innards of..
My unforgiving soul.
I thrive on it!'
"Well, thats pretty black but it doesn't even touch my artistic works, you write like an illiterate." Daxter sneered.
Jak contested, "Oh yeah? Well how about we enter the poetry contest tomorrow and let the judges decide on that?"
"Tch.. fine with me..."
In his biting cold reality, Daxter was actually a little fearful. But that feeling mutated viciously into determination as Daxter began to write down his most cryptic, brutal poem ever. He was sure the average Joe would feel chills running up and down his spine just by coming within 50 feet of it..
