My Polka face

Untitled Part 13

which is a very fancy chair for anyone wanting to be a Bruce Wayne type. I start to notice a figure in a different chair and I see a bit of smoke, and I start to sweat.

Getting this nervous is not my type of thing, often I stay calm, but this whole thing is getting to me. The walk wasn't that long, however, it felt like an eternity because my fate was right here and now to come to a decisive choice. The guards stopped walking and motioned me to the seat, so I sat down with a smug look on my face. The man who sat in the other chair, conveniently next to me, was bald and looked like he was about to buy some hair for his squared-off head.

"I don't know you, but I don't like strangers who get off at the wrong bases,". The man said unexpectedly. "Now when it comes to these types of ordeals I like to give people second chances because they're always willing to redeem themselves." The man said slowly.

I had the blankest expression on my face and the man couldn't keep his trap shut, "I know this is a lot for you, but listen to me and you will get another shot at living your life," The man said smirkingly, "My proposition is that you sell my father's diabetic amputated toe under 24 hours, and you get off scot-free."

I protested "I'm not doing that because I didn't cause a lot of damage," I said out of protest, "If I really wanted to cause damage, I would've won that game and gone on a spending spree and gotten myself some lovely maidens. By my atheism, I swear to the holy Trinkle of my mom's ashes that I always keep in my pocket that you won't dare lay a hand on me".

The man stood there for a moment and had one of those oh shit moments because when I heard these words I knew I was seconds closer to death "Wait I remember you, you're the guy that made that wretched machine!" The man shouted out of anger, "You're the reason why my grandmother suffers from 3rd-degree burns!". The man remarked while getting out of his seat.