Author has written 2 stories for Inuyasha, and Naruto.
I moved in close to the Old Timer's feet. He was sitting in that same old rocking chair. The same one he had been sitting in for all of my thirty years. Sure he smelled a bit, but he had a heart of gold. Of course, that's just an expression: If his heart was really made out of gold, he would have pawned it years ago to buy a new whiskey dispenser. As it was, whenever he needed a fifth of jack, or for that matter ANY rotgut, guess who got to go on booze runs? That's right. My nephew. I'll be damned if I'm gonna give up the spot that I've earned as the most dedicated story listener in town. The way I figure, when this guy croaks, I get his chair. Hehehe...
He started his story.
"Well, I came here thirty years ago without a nickel in my pocket. Now, I have a nickel in my pocket. Go figure, eh?"
You can tell why I love listening to this man tell his stories, huh?
Please, someone, find a little bit of heart in you? Shoot me now.
Matter of fact, screw the shooting. Just whack me over the head with a baseball bat. Just do a Lil Slugger on my fat ass.
If I stay here much longer, he's gonna start in with that story 'bout how he was out huntin' and blew up his own propane tank.
Oh, no. Too late.
You sadistic bastards.
Next up is the deer piss on his boot.
(Two months later)
(A man sits wrapped in a strait jacket, in a room with padded walls and a rather high window)
"Piss on his boot, piss on his boot. Oh, look. Piss on my boot. I think I will. Hehehehehehehe..."
I am a Spectral Dragon.
In the war between good and evil, a Spectral Dragon tends to walk the fine line of Neutrality...
The resurrected spirits of fallen dragon warriors, Spectral Dragons usually