'WHAT HAPPENS NEXT WILL SHOCK YOU!'

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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."
The cloud of dust the object caused crashing through the roof before destroying the stage raised a large cloud of dust which began to dissipate upon the the utterance of that gravelly
voice. The large party of revelers who were minutes before encouraging Frood to peg himself, now wanted no part of this new party and vanished like the wind.

The breeze caused from the quick exit of Froodles 'friends*ahem*' blew away the smoke and dust and a coffin lay upright through the middle of the stage like a gravestone newly set by a stone mason. Flynn and Frood stared blankly at this surely singular strange circumstance. Vitty's cigarette dropped from his physical mouth, only half smoked. He knew full well what was about to happen, and he wanted no part of it.

The top lid of the coffin opened. A fog poured out. Two red pinprick points of light appeared through,
Piercing the haze.
A face slowly appears.
Hideously smiling.
Gravelly cackling.
Vitty is the first to react. After all,
It was Caskur who cursed him into being half a shadow person to begin with. So he knew it was her at the first thud. The pig was back

Vitty began to fade, pissed he wasn't able to finish his cigarette or get another coffee while still in his mortal state. Cas had schooled him again. And as he slipped into shadow, he began to hiss 'TWAP says you look better dead than when you were alive!'
And with that, Vitty whisped into the the dark corners of the night.

Frood got so scared his magic, far less potent than Caskurs, failed,
And his micro penai turned in like a snail into its shell,
And his gash formed once again.
Much like seeing Medusa, Frood was transfixed like stone, his bald head shiny with sweat, the only thing defining he still drew breath.

Flynn's face showed no emotion. The Botox treatments had taken their toll, and with the exception of a slight tremor on that highway billboard forehead of hers, or his, or whatever the fuck it is,
Flynn was as still as Frood.

Caskur spoke. Gravelly. Like an old crone of a witch who drank too much of her own potions,
"Now the REAL party can begin!"
 
Caskur squeezed out of the coffin and waddled a few steps to the edge of the stage. She inhales deeply, swelling her chest enormously and laughing a raucous burbling imitation of mirth that chilled the spines of everyone who heard it. The aroma of incense is long forgotten; now even the stench of cigarette smoke and over-brewed coffee subsides beneath a new sensory assault: the putrescent olfactory nightmare of ancient swamp; stagnant water and decaying vegetation seasoned with hints of reptile breath and decomposing flesh.

Hands on hips, Caskur looks around the room. She frowns and bellows: "You ninnies laughed at me. You said my curses were a joke. Well, maybe you were right, back then. Being dead has advantages though and from true practitioners of the craft I learned how to curse properly. Don't take my word for it; let me show you."

Focusing on Frood, still transfixed and unmoving, Caskur points a swollen clawed finger in his direction, opens her maw, and utters a curse so inhuman and vile that it doesn't even seem to be speech as much as an audible calamity. Fire jets out from the gap between her teeth as Frood begins to writhe and scream. In rapid succession Caskur points at new targets and hurls more incomprehensibly hideous curses.

Jack is caught scrambling for the back exit and blasted into a pinkish mist. Flynn begins swaying then freezes and starts to vibrate faster and faster until she's only a blur that suddenly flies apart like broken pottery. Aryan is flung several feet through the air but when he lands it's with a splash that coats the chairs and tables behind the spot where he'd been standing; nothing remains of Aryan except dark stains on the floor and furniture.

In the bathroom X wakes up. He'd been drinking and smoking heavily all afternoon/evening and it'd caught up to him with a queasy vengeance. After throwing up several times he'd passed out in the handicapped stall.

"Ugh, my head." X thought to himself. "I haven't felt this bad since, well, yesterday."

A sigh tinged with shame and regret escapes X's lips as he stumbles toward the bathroom's exit. Pushing open the door and nearly falling into the main room X chokes back another wave of nausea as a fetid stink crawls into his nostrils.

"What the fuck is that?!? Did something die?" X asks of nobody in particular as his watering eyes are unable to focus on anything farther away than the end of his nose.

Hearing X's arrival Caskur turns her attention on him.

"Silence, misbegotten whelp of a diseased hyena. Or would you like me to curse you as well?" Caskur growls and raises her hand once more.

X unexpectedly staggers closer to Caskur, rubbing his eyes and trying to see past the tears brought on by the horrid swamp stench.

"Who the fuck are you? I'm a mod now you know. You should have more respect and WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SMELL?!?"

Now standing in front of the stage below a momentarily bewildered but recovering Caskur, X finally clears his vision enough to see the awful apparition, the huge coffin protruding from the ruins of the stage, and the general state of pandemonium in the room.

Frowning again Caskur points directly at X.

"I'll curse the meat from your bones, you little pis..."

"I can't be cursed." X mumbles as he leans on the stage for support. "My life is so fucked curses don't have any effect on me. Like pissing into the ocean. Makes no difference."

Caskur narrows her eyes and says through a grin: "We'll see about that."

The curse Caskur hurls at X explodes the edge of the stage into sawdust and sets the table behind him on fire.

X himself doesn't even seem to notice.

Squinting up at Caskur X looks disgusted and says: "Fuck me you're ugly. What happened, did you jump from a burning building and land in a pool of acid or something?"

Caskur screeches in rage and stomps another hole in the floorboards of the stage.

"What did you say to me you insignificant speck of shit?"

X puts his right hand up to his mouth and belches then spits.

"That stink. That gawdawful stink. I can't... I don't feel so good."

Without warning X projectile vomits straight onto Caskur's stomach, coating her from neck to knee and splashing to either side of her to befoul what's left of the stage.

X belches again and murmurs: "Sorry. Couldn't help it."

Caskur, windmilling her arms and waddling ponderously backward, looks down at her chest and stomach with a crazed expression of mortification.

"Eww! Eww! What the fuck? It's all over me! GAAAHH!"

Caskur's next step lands inside the coffin sunk several feet into the shattered stage and she falls backward into it. Still yelling incoherently Caskur grabs the coffin lid, slams it shut, and the whole thing flashes brightly enough to stun before fading rapidly and disappearing.

X, wiping fresh spew off his chin, remarks: "Geeze, I said I was sorry. Bitch."
 
The format and flow hasn't been tight, but meh...

I know was a little carried away with the second one but hey... I haven't done anything like that in a while and it just sort of got away from me.

Maybe what I really need is an example of what it ought to have looked like?

<nudgenudge>
 
I know was a little carried away with the second one but hey... I haven't done anything like that in a while and it just sort of got away from me.

Maybe what I really need is an example of what it ought to have looked like?

<nudgenudge>
I know what you're saying, I got carried away too. Frood only has to drop like three lines. Write somebody in or out. Except for himself of course. Frood stays one way or the other. I think he's sore still heh