Author Note: This is merely for fun and because it just fit. Now enjoy, the gift that keeps on giving. The Gift of Jericho, Read it all maaaaaaaaaaaan~!
The sound of metal boots storming across a barren field leading to Demacia echoed through the air. On one end, the Demacian forces lead by Jarvan Lightshield IV and his best friend, Garen Crownguard awaited. Charging to them was the Hand of Noxus and the undead giant Sion leading their squadron of Noxian warriors with the Grand General of Noxus right behind.
Jarvan: "HALT! If you want to want come into Demacian land, you shall have to cross weapons with us and pay the price of your lives!"
Swain: "You ignorant fool. You stupid idiot. I've got the Army of Jericho. Slay em all meeeeeeeeen~!" Swain casually outstretches arms and tilts his head back.
"BECAUSE YOU TOLD US TOOOOOOO!" The army screams as they start to maul the Demacians who are already accidentally being killed by Garen's spin to win.
From the earth, sharp talons erupted, latching onto Lux's skinny legs to hold her in place. She could hear Swain cackling as he commanded his raven, Beatrice, to begin the pecking out of her eyes.
Swain: "It's the Spell of Jericho. Snare em in maaaaaaaan~!"
Beatrice: "CAW CAW CAW."
Darius walks in, a newly polished pegleg in hand.
Darius: "Sir, I have your leg ready. Shall I attach it before your match?"
Swain: "It's the Pegleg..of Jericho. Snap it in maaaaaaaaaan~!"
Swain yawns before looking over at his clock. With a tired groan he crawls into bed but not before calling for Darius.
Darius: "Yes sir?"
Swain: "...It's the Bedtime of Jericho. Tuck me in maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan~!"
Darius: "….Uh, riiiiiight."
Fin.