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Ankap - Angry at the Mayans for a false prediction? POST YOUR GRIEVANCES HERE!
I killed Falkor. It took two weeks, and his ears flapped wildly day and night, his hot breathe ruffling his woolly mustache in agony- almost too hot to touch, like the steam from a boiler. I took my knife (I'm a knife guy, but if I have to use a gun I go for the glock) and peeled off his scales. One. By. One. As he drew his last air, I looked into his large, globular eyes. "Not so lucky now, are you?" I grunted. To this day, I kiss one of his scales before rolling for defense. He was the only one I ever regretted so thoroughly.
I killed Falkor. It took two weeks, and his ears flapped wildly day and night, his hot breathe ruffling his woolly mustache in agony- almost too hot to touch, like the steam from a boiler. I took my knife (I'm a knife guy, but if I have to use a gun I go for the glock) and peeled off his scales. One. By. One. As he drew his last air, I looked into his large, globular eyes. "Not so lucky now, are you?" I grunted. To this day, I kiss one of his scales before rolling for defense. He was the only one I ever regretted so thoroughly.
Today a fellow student told me, "Talent is an accident of genetics. There's no obligation attached." I offered my retort, "Obviously someone hasn't read Ultimate Spider-Man #5 and taken to heart the lessons of it."
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