Dead Princess

He is so much a butter-finger that he can't even untie a red-headed princess secured to a simple chair with pink ropes.

So much like Scott.

He begins to sweat profusely as he stares into her big eyes and at her big (well, you know).

This is Scott, after all.

He still can't figure out why her loose blue blouse, dark green archer hat, brown boots and thick, black leather leggings were unusual... he knew something was wrong with this picture, but... what?

Suddenly his thoughts were distracted by the piercing pain in his eyes - caused by a bright light, much brighter than the natural light coming down from the hole in the cavern.

The light faded and he saw to his left a hooded figure. Scott didn't like hooded figures. They reminded him too much of Mr. Pinky from the stories his greatgrandmother told him as a little kid. The hooded figure strolled towards Scott.

Scott backed away. Eased off. Retreated.

The figure stopped. Not in front of Scott. The figure stood in front of the damsel in distress, the tied-up red-head, Princess Astra. Then the hooded figure pulled out a knife.

"What are--" spoke Astra.

Before she could finish the hooded figure slashed her pretty little throat, a gush of blood spraying over the hooded figure, as well as the various works of art, statues, and paintings nearest the now dead princess.

Scott peed his pants.

That is also what Scott does.

1. The hooded figure steps into another bright light...
2. Scott faints and lies in his own piss for quite some time...

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