I'm jamming away on my guitar. I have nothing better to do right now, unless you could annoying the old ghosts to no end with heavy metal music. I smile at the thought because I know someone nearby over the age of thirty is covering their ears and wishing that I would stop playing. But I won't, not even if they ask nicely. I'll just turn up the volume and hit them with a sound blast. That would teach them to tell me what to do. No one can get me to stop playing.
Well, there is one.
I falter in my song. I stop and growl at the thought of the one person who actually got me to shut up. That dipstick! Isn't there anything that can keep him down? I gave him everything I could give, slammed him around, nearly blew his eardrums out, and even had him falling all over that Goth girl that he hangs out with. Nothing against her, I like her style, but she's one of his goody little friends.
And that other friend. Agh! He can't carry a tune in a bucket! And I thought opera was horrible. He broke everyone out of their trances at my concert. I didn't think it was possible.
I think for a moment. With a smirk, I mentally admit that the dipstick is cool in his own way. He's got guts. I mean, he took down Pariah Dark and saved both the real world and the Ghost Zone. Don't get me wrong, I still hate the squirt. One of these days I will have the whole world chanting my name.
Enough of that. I have a new single to come up with. And this time, dipstick Phantom won't be able to stop me.