The door to the dungeon creaked open. As Timothy stepped through the opening, the whole room seemed a lot darker, damper and downright more miserable than before; he didn't know what it was, but something was... different.
"Rob!"
He called out. The tall, grumpy man looked up from his seat.
"Who the fuck told you my name?"
Fuzz stepped in behind Tim.
"I did."
Rob looked shocked, he hadn't seen Fuzz for years. Anger filled his eyes as he glared at them.
"I guess you're here for this, then?"
He asked, shaking a key on his belt as he stood up.
"And you seriously think that two of you can take me on? You're fucking pathetic."
The rest of the group stepped through the door: Melanie, followed by Brian who had just managed to squeeze through the door; Troy, the fedora master with his impressive tipping ability; The Haggis, able to crush anyone beneath his huge, Scottish arse-cheeks; Lem, the greatest shanker in the whole of Luton; Sean, master furry-killer and footballer extroadinaire; and Ian.
Rob's smug grin turned to a downright furious frown as he observed Tim's horde of friends, and he bellowed out a huge roar. It was clear the fight was about to ensue.
Fuzz quickly sprang into action; from nowhere a rocket launcher appeared in his hands and he sprung into the air like... well.... a spring, and landed on a ledge directly above Rob before raining fire upon him. The now immensely enraged, hulking figure of a man lashed out at Lem, the first person he could reach. His soft, shitty body was about to crumble beneath the raw power of Rob's fist... but no.
"JEW POWERS, ACTIVATE!"
Ian yelled. Suddenly, the ground began quaking.
"Shit, the ground is shakin'!"
Sean exclaimed. It all happened so fast. Ian rose into the air, seemingly levitating using nothing but the power of greed and Kosher; his nose grew several feet but then again so did everything, especially his previously non-existant biceps. He reached out, stopping Rob dead in his tracks, and gave him the world's most painful Chinese burn you could ever imagine.
Rob recoiled and turned his attention to the source of the torturous suffering he had just experienced. He picked Ian up and smashed his forehead into Ian's chest, but his now-immense pecs made his head simply ricochet backwards. Ian had to be removed from the fight, he was too much of a threat to Rob, so he picked Ian up and hurled him into the group, taking out everyone but Tim and Brian.... who happened to be taking a shit on the floor. So just Tim.
Rob approached the leader of the group.
"Looks like you ain't getting my key any time soon."
He chuckled hoarsely. Rob grabbed Tim's throat and forced him to the ground, attempting to choke him to death. Was this the end for his mission?
...
No.
From within the steaming turd that Brian had left on the floor, a faint whinny could be heard. Could it be? Of course it was, Brandon, somehow alive, pulled himself out of the droppings and charged at Rob without Tim's assailant noticing. He reared up behind Rob and let out a loud neigh, about to bring his hooves down onto Rob's skull.
Immediately Rob turned around and smacked him round the head with a banhammer, outright killing him.
"Fucking ponce."
This however did give Lem the time he needed. He picked up one of his many shanks - this one a massive fuck-off shard of rusty iron and thrust it into Rob's neck. He fell to his knees.
"This... isn't.... over."
He said, struggling over the amount of blood pouring out of his mouth.
"No one can stop me.... not even.... Str00f."
He stood up and grabbed Lem by his middle, spitting blood in his face and began crushing his body between his gargantuan hands. Suddenly the grip around Lem's waist tightened, and Rob collapsed to the floor, dead. Fuzz stood above him.
"Lrn2markitgardn, scrub."
