- Markshire PCs:
Somewhere in the depths of Hel, LT lays upon a burgundy red velvet sheet…
sweat pours from his brow, and unintelligible moans escape his cracked lips….
Above him stands a horror, a blight against humanity, something created in the evil forges of Muspelheim…
It has hairy goat legs clad in fishnet stockings, which meld into a vaguely female humanoid torso, sporting a leather bustier, while it’s head is that of Bill Parcells, a maniacal grin upon its grotesque lips, a wooden paddle gripped in one hand
“Again!” it commands.
“Thank you sir may I have another.” LT croaks.
The paddle flashes with inhuman speed, crashing down upon the already torn and reddened buttocks.
[GOD DAMN WE GOT SPANKED!!!!]
Suddenly the Parcells-thing grabs a freshly cut lemon, and squeezes it onto the angry looking wounds.
“What the Hel did you do that for?”
“That’s for not starting Ronnie Brown today!”