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The Dungeon of Regret - a truly regrettable dungeon, indeed. Constructed
eons ago, during the bloody reign of the worm-ridden Gorwuru, Blind
Blasphemer and Demonic Messiah of the Underworld (a.k.a., the Howling
Devourer of Weaklings and Angels, or during more informal gatherings ‘the
Dark Stalker of Lost Souls’ or simply ‘Hank’) as a daycare center for his
larvae-like offspring, it
had eventually been converted into what it was now - a vile pit of
shadows reserved for only the most despised enemies of the Undead Gnome
King and his allies. And this is where Fred found himself. He had never felt so defiled. “Foppish bitch?” said a familiar voice.“Lava Man?” Fred howled in disbelief. But sure enough, there sat a dejected-looking Lava Man, sulking over in the corner of the dank cell. “Why, it is you!” Lava Man did an unexpected thing then - he burst into lava tears. Yes, Lava Man cries. He has feelings too. “Oh, Fred!” he cried. “They molested me like a twelve year old at a paedophilic pop star's slumber party! They subjected me to all manner of debauchery and sin. And they didn’t even give me Jesus Juice to loosen me up!”Fred didn’t quite catch those references to the king of Pop, but he nodded as if he did. “Believe me, old friend,” he consoled his molten companion. “I’ve been through that and much...much....,” he cringed spasmodically before continuing, “...much more.” And then he foamed at the mouth and ran about the room screaming, “Mommy made me dirty! I’m a dirty boy! I’m a dirty boy!” “Hold me, Fred!” Lava Man pleaded. “Hold me and make the pain go away!”
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2/6/2005 11:57:11 AM
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