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[h3][color=fdc68a]~Graham Turner~[/color][/h3]

No.

Body please.

Gravity, mercy.

Graham found himself sprawled out on the ground for the umpteenth time in less than twenty-four hours. Honestly, by now, the boy was starting to just embrace his destiny of being a floor mat. Why not? Life was simpler when all you had to worry about was whether or not you were inviting enough. He could do that. Hell, he would welcome the fuck out these fools.

Wait…

No…

It is not yet your time, young Turner. One day ye may join the sacred ranks of floor mattery, but for now, you still have work to do.

Graham gazed upon the giant who had decided that the floor could use a little bit of ginger. Rage spilled forth from the miniature man. Vision gave way to a floor of red and…

A hulking colossus gazes over a barren, burning landscape, taking a whiff of the death in the air. It laughs, pleased by the aroma of ash and brimstone. It turns and takes it seat upon its throne of skulls, built with the remains of his many foe. Foolish be ye who DARE challenge the dark overlord. His rule is absolute. His rage is eternal. His will be done. Below the colossus, prostrating before the one true God of the lands, was the very giant that had just assaulted Graham. The colossus howls a mighty laugh. How quickly the tables turn. The Overlord spits upon the offender, and watches as the slime engulfs the offender in flames, burning the filth with the righteous fiery hell of justice. Yet another skull for the skull throne. Glory unto he, Graham, the Dark Overlord who shall mount the world.

[color=9e0b0f]“Hey, you ok?”[/color]

Graham blinked. He was no longer a giant in a barren wasteland, he was just a tiny man chilling out on a cafeteria floor. That was an odd one.

[color=9e0b0f]“Sorry about that,”[/color]

I WILL END YOU, TALL PERSON. BOW BEFORE YOUR GOD, FOR HE IS I!

BOW DAMN YOU!

[color=9e0b0f]"I wasn’t paying attention.”[/color]

“It’s all good, man. Every time I’m knocked to the ground, an angel gets her wings. Or some other bullshit. Mind lending a hand?”

Alright, so he chose a less hostile route. Big whoop. It was Day One and this man dwarfed him. The Talls were a stupid, violent breed. Rather than picking a battle of brawn, which he would undoubtedly lose, he would take an easy victory in a battle of wits. Lull the giant into a false sense of security, gain it’s trust, then before it even realizes what’s going on, BOOM! You’ve got yourself a pocket bodyguard. Smooth thinkin’, Graham ol’ boy.

Graham reached up with a single hand. This was it, the ultimate judge of the Tall’s character. Be he prick or prince? Only time would tell…
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