Brom, who had come back from the dead at the sound of the terrible word "British", yelled. Loudly. Very loudly. EXTREMELY LOUDLY! Eragon, confused and wanting to fit in began to yell too.
Eragon: WWWHHHAAATTTTTT AAARRREEE WWWEEE YYYEEELLLIIINNNGGG AAABBBOOOUUUTTT!
Brom: I HATE THE BRITISH, YO!
ERAGON: WWWHHHOOO AAARRREEE TTTHHHEEE BBBRRRIIITTTIIISSSHHH?
Angela: Hey Eragon, how come you talk with three letters in each word?
ERAGON: III DDDOOONNN'''TTT KKKNNNOOOWWW!
Brom: LET'S GO ICE THOSE DEMONS! GRRAAAGGHHHHH YO!
Roran picks up the machette from...well...his hand? He quickly goes to the narrarator and hacks off his hea...
New Narrarator: Hi I've been hired to fill in for the other guy. He uhhh...quit...?...
...d. Roran picks up the shotgun from Morzan's rotting carcas(how'd he die?) and hands it to Saphira, who eats it.
Eragon: OOOOHHHH ME WANT BOOM STICK!
Eragon dives at Saphira's mouth, hoping to dive in to her stomach to retrieve the shotgun. Unfortunately, Saphira's mouth was closed, making is very difficult to well, dive through.
Eragon: Ouch. Oh well, i'll just have to use this weapon.
Eragon pulls out the Zar'roc from under his bed.
Angela: Thats a good choice Eragon! Maybe your not so frikin retarded after all!
Eragon pulls out a bad of marshmallows from his bed. And then puts the sword back.
Angela: I hate you.
The friends set out to kill the British bird guys. All 7 of them, Saphira, Eragoon, Angela, Roran, and the now foaming at the mouth Brom. Just as they step outside, the writer of this story becomes bored and stops.