It was surprisingly clean, she thought, given that the neighborhood was practically abandoned and the interior, while dusty, wasn’t in disrepair. �...�You own the whole building?’ she asked. ‘Yes,’ he said, but left it there. He didn’t want her to know the extent of his wealth, not now anyway. ‘I keep supplies here,’ he pointed to a cinderblock wall painted gray with a three sided steel rack open to the room with woods at the top and steel and aluminum pipe and bar at the bottom. There was a tiny. All he could do now was watch in horror as my character, the heroic and badass Prince Johnathon, spun himself around like a fucking Beyblade and bitchslapped the shit out Thomas's face in with his shield.The impact was strong enough to knock him back a few meters, making tumble against the ground until he collided against the wall of the arena.There he lied, motionless, powerless, and bleeding everywhere from his stupid ass forehead.The generic victory theme song played as soon as the cutscene. More

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