Blogtober 2023, Day 29: Profanity
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and Despair!
Nothing beside remains.
Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ozymandias
Spencer obliged the man’s direction and lowered his. Glen drew his claw back for a fatal swipe at Spencer’s neck but was interrupted by two bolts of power energy into his lizard-life forehead. The wounds formed front the blasts spilled Glen backward. He released his grip on Spencer, who fell to the ground and crawled away. Green sludge poured from the wound on Glen’s head. He stumbled about and wanting
“You fucking jerk!” Glen’s blob bellowed.
“No need for profanity,” the man said, placing his weapon into his satchel. “Spencer, are you alright?”
“That blob just said the f word,” Spencer said, eyes wide with terror and awe.
“All you’ve witnessed tonight and this shocks you most?” The man produced a travel size aerosol bottle from his satchel. “Now, Spencer, my boy, be a sport and look me in the eye.”
“What is that?”
But the man didn’t tell him. Instead, he sprayed the bottle in Spencer’s face. The mist produced a series of convulsive sneezes from Spencer. When they subsided, a blank expression overtook his face.
“This will all be but a strange memory for you, Spencer,” the man said. “Like a dream, the details of which you cannot recall.” He reached into his satchel and produced some gauze to patch up Spencer’s wounds.
This attempt at triage was disrupted when something from his right blindsided the man and tackled him to the ground.