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and while you were messing around, my dragon leaps on your neck and strangles you. as you turn around trying to get it off, you face me, with both guns ready. before you can say "Sh-" I blast your head off. I then fly away with my awesome jetpack and little dragon.

Watching you finish the Udon, get up and leave, I pull out a yellow box and follow you. As we arrive in an open street, I'd pour the contents of the flamboyant box, light 'em, and chuck 'em, esploding upon contact, leaving a bright red dimple. This of course attracts your attention, which I chuck more, hitting your face, snappers, causing you to blink, turn around, and run. As the pursuit heatens I begin to pull out box after box of those little things, repeating the process leaving you with gaping red and black holes, allowing some intestnial piceces to ooze out, and your still trotting along, crying every step of the way. When you finaly collapse I shout something in a freakish tounge, nothing happans for a couple minutes, save you writhing on the ground, letting out a couple of weak grunts, kicking you a last time I walk away as an army of little kids dawning gas-masks holding various farm objects, all creepily are seen in black and white. After I jump into an open manhole, they unmask their faces, when they do the faces of grotesque monsters and things Satan himself would cry over get closer to you lifting their weapons, ready to fight.

I would tell you one of my grandfathers stories. I ensure you you will die within minutes of hearing them.

i would take your orphans crutch and shove it up your butt. Then I would take your golden heart and shove it down your throat. While you are busy choking off the heart i would put you in a box filled with starved snapping turtles and laugh as they slowly tore you apart.

did i do that right?

Two words:

Super. Soaker.

I'd pump up Corey Hart's Sunglasses at Night to full-blast, with its questionable lyrics and overly 80's sound, your body'll freeze into place. When that time comes, I'll slowly creep up wielding a tennis racket and swing at your outer thigh, giving you a horrible Charlie Horse. Seeing you scream on the inside, and look around viciously into the eternal abyss of darkness that protrudes from the area around us, I'd slowly rub up against you, holding and feeling every orifice of your warm skin. After freaking you out a bit, I'd start nibbling on your ear, slowly ripping it off and spitting it in yo face. As the dawn of no escape floats softly above your head, I'd chuck thee CD player at various parts of you body, until it finally breaks on your ribs.
As the music dies out in a weird pitch the curse lets go, nearly instantaneously dropping to the ground in a small frenzy, quickly stopped as a knife is jabbed into your back. Slowly going down, down, down your tender spine, causing little cracks and liquid to squirt out of the newly devolved wound. After a couple of seconds, I get a little low and lift the blade, cutting your little dress open, and then some. After leaving some emotional scars, I’d flip you over and pull out a dented container of Axe, tagging your face as the combination of alcohol and artificial scents bond with your eyes, and soon the tainted liquid dances around the rest of your, cold, pale, fidgeting body, and a flame sparks from the gravel underneath you, until that match ignites with your soon smoldering corpse.

I'd use one of my favorite methods on him. Fill up a Super Soaker on a sunny day, with water and white phosforous and squirt away. mrgreen

Incase anyone doesn't know, white phosforous ignites on contact with air and (I think) be ground into a powder. mrgreen

i dont know about killing, but man do i want to hit this guy with a paintball....LOL