So, i had forgotten about newgrounds for a year it seems, WHO WOULD OF THOUGHT.
I straighten my hair, I wear lot's of different coloured converse, I have white £120 Wayfarer RayBans to match my white belt and Yes, I'm delicious, or so Donna Karan would have you believe with her DKNY apple scent that I buy from her.... BUT SERIOUSLY, who can live without a BLACK SCARF!!!
So like I went up to the bar and asked if I could get a pint of 64, then he said OH warm or cold? so I said... cold you faggot and he laughed and said, everyone says that.
I followed him home and killed his wife and kids, I made sure to leave them nice and warm for his sick pleasure.
MUAHAHAHA heres a little screenshot of a character in my halloween movie I'm working on.
Chapter 1 - Dreaming of a future.
Thunder smashed against the background of the dark sky, setting the scene of an unsettling event that was surely to unfold. The sound of a horse walking on command was creeping it's way up the shattered path of the blackest mountain. Rattling chains and heavy metal thuds echoed deep in the hills as the rider held his body high with a confidence that kept his horse steady.
The dark figure on the horse was dressed head to toe in black robes swamped in silver armour which look almost ceremonial and a virgin in battle. Surrounding the impressive collection of protection was multiple swords and daggers, which had an almost glow about them. There were lot's of different shapes and sizes and each one was just as impressive as the next.
The horse reached the top and came to a stop, and with that lowered it's framed head to the ground and waited. The figure pulled a very long wrap of black cloth out from behind his person and started to unravel it. Layer by layer it spun off revealing the most enchanting sword, it had a different kind of glow to it than the rest, though it was styled in the same fashion, but you could just tell that this was a more important item than the rest, it glowed just that little bit more pulling in your eye.
His hand gripped round the thick silver handle, just the act of this happening would send a shiver down your spine. The clean silver sword slipped with ease out of it's sheath and was held by the figures side.
For just a moment there was a silence, just the sound of the bitter breeze flowing through the armour was making a slight whistle. The clouds over head started to open and the thunder shook the very ground upon the horse was standing. The figure took a deep breath in preparation and lifted the mighty sword with one hand straight up in the air, at that moment lightning crashed down from the heavens flowing straight into the raised weapon. The figure let out a paranormal scream that filtered through the surrounding hills for miles. After the lightning had stopped, the figure relaxed and dropped his hand down by his side as if almost exhausted, and was breathing a little bit heavier than before. He just sat there for a few minutes getting back his breath when all of a sudden his head tiled up fast as if alerted by someone's presence.
That's when Bruce woke up, he sat up instantly and was breathing at an alarming rate. He took a minute to become aware of his surroundings and calm himself down, the cold sweat was dripping down his face and causing a ring of water to collect on his sheets. The warm air in his room started to flow easier through his lungs as he realised it was just a dream and he was actually sitting in his bed and the only thing he had to worry about was being late for work, which by looking at his clock he could see had happened.
He jumped to his feet and scrambled for some clothes that were lying around the floor, not really caring for fashion purposes but if it would go on and not smell to bad, it would do. Five minutes had passed and Bruce was already walking to work, he had managed to grab himself a quick coffee and eat two slices of plain white bread in that time, which would have the task of keeping him going during the working day.
Today seemed like any mundane day for Bruce, but his life was going to change forever. Bruce was a nineteen year old failed history student who worked at a small local shop that sold Persian rugs. He used most of his money to help pay bills at his mums house, in which he still lived, and spent the little he had left on cocktails of different drugs to make life pass by and not seem so bad. Bruce didn't have much hopes in life as he couldn't go back to university as he didn't have the funding support and he had already gone down that route and couldn't handle the pace.
A car honked it's horn as it passed near Bruce and this is when he realised just how much of a headache he actually had, it made him clench his teeth until he almost cracked them. He couldn't let this effect him on the outside as he has to survive the day at work to get the money for the electric bill, and his opium which he was looking forward to the coming Saturday.
On the short walk to work Bruce hated having to walk past the local army recruiting offices as there was always a bunch of neds (non-educated delinquents) hanging around outside that were more than happy to shout abuse at him as he passed by each and every day. Today he walked past with a innocent smile, as the offices were closed and there was no-one in sight.
Bruce turned the corner of a local housing estate and could see the middle eastern looking shop just across the road. He started to fish around in his pockets for the keys to the door so he could open up and start the meaningless tasks for the day, but alas, he had lost the keys. Bruce decided his only option was to head home and search his room, he convinced himself the owner would never know, as long as he wasn't too late. A van slowed down and parked across from the shop and a bearded man stepped out and walked towards the shop. Bruce asked if it was a delivery for the rug shop and it turned out it was, Bruce would defiantly get fired if he had to turn the delivery down as it would prove he was late for work and that he had lost the keys, and the delivery costs for the van coming again tomorrow would come out of his own pay.
There was only one thing he could do, and he was determined to do it, there was no-way he was getting fired or having to pay for another delivery. He jogged swiftly round the back of the shop and pressed up against the back door window with his hands and forehead. He then took two steps back and kicked, the door flung open with a crack and Bruce looked around just to double check no-one had seen him do this. Bruce hadn't really thought his plan through and had just realised that a new door is going to cost a lot more than paying for delivery and became depressed at his own stupidity. He marched to the front door and opened up and sorted out the delivery and gave his needed autograph to the bearded man and he went on his way.
The shop was in the middle of a run down housing estate and not being an off-licence seen little people through it's doors, Bruce never really seemed to think why an expensive Persian rug store was situated in such a location, I guess it didn't matter, as long as he got paid he was happy, though he knew the business can't of been doing well as he has never seen anyone actually buy anything in his whole 6 months of working there.
With the lack of customers Bruce usually found himself sitting in the back reading the store owners dusty books while every so often nipping out the back door to smoke a spliff to keep himself from going insane.
New picture I have been working on, just need to get it canvas printed now.