Froo knew!
Dancing like an Egyptian on Coke,
Froodus gyrated so fast his gash became penis again,
And the little penai yelled 'Shadow Person Show Yourself!'
The room went dim.
The partiers hushed.
A scent of insence permeated the space.
And among the shadows a darker shadow emerged.
Vitriol was among living once again-
The shade of Vitriol coughed out a small cloud of dust and smoke, replacing the aroma of incense with a redolence of old ashtrays and bitter coffee.
"Who dares disturb my rest, dagnabbit!" croaked Vitriol, visually scanning the room while patting his pockets in search of a ciggy. Locating a crumpled pack of Camels in a breast pocket and producing a lighter from the left front pocket of his trousers Vitriol fishes a cig out of the packet and lights it.
A waspish voice pierces the room's shocked silence: "You can't smoke in here you fucking moron! Read the goddamn sign!"
Frood grimaces and leaps down from the stage, making soothing gestures toward the back of the room.
"Hush Flynn... just let it go. You don't want to piss off a shadow pers-"
"Don't you fucking hush me you androgynous jar of expired mayonnaise! Cigarettes fucking stink and it's illegal to smoke in here and I don't have to fucking put up with it!"
Vitriol, expressionlessly watching this interaction while occasionally puffing on his cig, grins and says:
"I knew a Flynn once. Mouth like an overflowing sewer and a disposition that could teach a wet hornet a few things about being aggressive. I don't reckon you'd be *that* Flynn, would ya?"
Frood apprehensively places his hands over his face and turns away as if to indicate he literally can not stand to witness what's about to happen.
"Aggressive?! SEWER?!?" Flynn sputters in volcanic indignation.
Just when the tension crackling through the air between Vitriol and Flynn seemed about to reach cataclysmic levels an enormously loud *THUD!* causes everyone to turn their attention back to the stage.
"Hah. Would you look at that." a deep, gravelly voice rumbles. "Now it's a party."
