Story #8: FatfartfattyQuest

 Jon Fatfartfatty was sitting. He did this ritualistically every night. Just sitting. Nothing else. Suddenly, he heard a pounding on his door. Jon got up with a great effort.

“Hello, who is it?”

He got only more frantic knocking. He decided the best course of action was to open the door. Outside stood a small blue-greenish guy. “Hello sir, I have a gun,” the stranger stuttered in a meek voice.

“Well I have a better gun,” Jon retorted.

“Well shi- I mean frick!!!! Obviously I mean frick!”

Jon pulled the gun’s trigger. The blue-greenish man was no more than a pile of ash.

“Glad that’s over with.”

Then he looked outside.

Author’s note: Azrael thingy is still coming, but it’ll be written