Sorry about the lack of updates, real life sucks and is now about trains. And homework. Lots and lots of homework. Mortal Kombat and the Terminator are copyrighted to their respective sources, they are not mine. Dragon Fable Is copyrighted to Artix Entertainment and not mine.

As Seth woke up from his Deus Ex Coma, he became aware of several things. First was that Johnson the Gryphon was wearing a pink apron and making sandwiches. Second was that his house was a lot cleaner than usual.

The third was that he was on fire. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! THE PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!” he screamed, as he ran outside and threw himself into the ocean.

As Seth trudged back to his house, he considered whether it was animal abuse to kill an insane gryphon. He walked through his front door with a might cry of “DA TERMEENATAH EES BAHK” and…didn’t find Johnson. “I wasted my entrance…” he said dejectedly as he turned around…”Johnson! Johnson!”

He got a face full of gryphon kick. “How did you do tha-“ but Johnson was gone. “NINJA! NINJA GRYPHON ON THE LOOSE!” he screamed, but was clubbed again in the back of the head. “Alright, time for MOOOOOOORTAAAAL KOMBAAAAAAT!” said Seth as he grabbed his Axe out of hammer space.

“Alright, check his stats…” Seth clicked the little question mark by his name. “100 stun resist…100 resistances against bacon…90 against anything else. Well, crap.”

Seth decided to defend. Johnson kicked him in the face for five hundred seventy three damage, winning in one hit.

“I CALL SHENANIGAINS!” yelled Seth, as luck shined upon him and he awoke nearby. “That was cheating!” “Johnson! Johnson!” “You’re mad that I didn’t eat the sandwiches?” “JOHNSON!” “Oh. Sorry.” “…Johnson.” “Fine, fine, I’ll try one. Geez.”

Seth walked back into his house and took a bite of a sandwich before Johnson murdered him. It was an Old Sock Double Decker.

“AAAAAARGH! I’M DYING!” “JOHN-SON!” “Old Socks don’t go in sandwiches you demented bird!” “Johnson!” “That was my laundry?” “Johnson…” “Why was it in bread?” “JOHNSON.” “Fine, I’ll try a sandwich.”

Seth grabbed a sandwich and, after checking for socks, took a bite. It was some sort of meat that was disturbingly sweet. “Hm…not bad. What is it?” “Johnson.” Johnson gestured to a bloody mess in the corner. Seth stared at it for a moment.

“Oh crap, I just ate Twilly.”

Well, there’s your third chapter. I’m planning on this making about five before it ends. Also, Johnson is the best idea I’ve ever had, I love him.