Spellbinding Spirals

Trust Me, Blitz - Part 1

"Oh, chill out, jester! Christ on a stick, it's like you've never been tied up before!" Blitzo drawled below, his voice laden with sass and contempt.

"Ugh sure! But not by a bunch of psychos! Ack! And a ******!" Fizzarolli whined, obviously as a retort to Blitzo's sass. Bumping and struggling noises also sounded from below, signifying that the captives were probably squirming around while arguing.

Striker scowled and grimaced as the petty arguing continued. Ever since he and the gangsters had tied the duo up, Blitzo and Fizzarolli had continued to fight ... only verbally now, not physically.

From what the cowboy could make out, the words were all petty and unnecessary ... and were starting to drive him up the bloody wall! Striker was normally an extremely patient guy, but this was giving him a blasted headache!

Gritting his teeth and grimacing, the cowboy imp swiftly punched the metal cage roof ... gaining the attention of the two captives.

"Would you two shut the ***** up already? Bickering like a couple of teen ***** ..." Striker snarled, getting to his feet.

The cowboy imp then jumped down to the top box of a pile of boxes next to the hanging cage. Turning around, Striker steps forward into the air with his right leg ... causing the top box to tilt forward as well.

"As far as I'm concerned ..." the cowboy imp said, 'riding' the tilting box forward quickly until it hit the cage. "You two are BOTH embarrassments to our kind for meddling' with blue-bloods to begin with!" Striker growled viciously with bared fangs, as he slammed into the cage bars.

He gripped the bars tightly in his claws as he took sadistic pleasure in Fizzarolli's frightened reaction. The multicoloured clown had flinched away from the professional assassin, falling over backwards to land in Blitzo's lap, with a terrified expression on his face.

The boss imp and Fizzarolli looked at each other in surprise for a second, before scowling and shuffling away as fast as possible. Striker's eyes narrowed as he continued his rant.

"But, at least Loudmouth here has the sense to only **** his rich ****, instead of bein' a little purse dog", the cowboy imp said, glancing over at Blitzo.

Despite their various disagreements, Striker still held some respect towards the boss imp for sticking to his business principles regarding interactions with that ditzy owl prince.

After all, Blitzo was truly an equal to the cowboy assassin in combat skills, physical skills, and improvisation ... they were two of a kind. It was a pity that the boss imp tied himself down to weaklings though.

Blitzo just turned his head away from Striker's spiral eyes, scoffing loudly and grimacing.

"Oh great! The **** supremacist is on my side, wonderful ..." the boss imp sneered, rolling his eyes and looking down at the floor. Fizzarolli sneered at this; then narrowing his eyes at Blitzo, before turning to Striker.

"Neither of you two filth bags know what you're even talkin' about", the clown drawled, briefly scoffing at the cowboy. Fizz then smirked derisively as he turned back to face Blitzo, unknowingly leaving his back vulnerable.

"If you think you're superior to ANYONE ..." the jester imp stated, his smug, self-righteous gaze flickering from Striker to Blitzo ... and back.

"Then you're not better than any royal—" Fizzarolli's voice abruptly turned into a choked gurgle as Striker's right hand shot out, grabbed the clown by the neck, and pulled him hard against the bars.

"DON'T. You. Dare. Finish that sentence, clown ..." the cowboy imp hissed quietly and venomously in Fizz's ears. Striker's face was the very image of rage; from his glowing eyes narrowed to slits ... to his bared, snarling fangs.

The multicoloured clown's face, on the other hand, radiated pure terror ... and was sweating massively as the cowboy's claws clenched his throat tightly. Said assassin was beside himself with fury and indignation at Fizzarolli's reckless statement.

How dare this wimpy, royal-loving, arrogant, clownish excuse for an imp accuse him of such?!! Striker had a good mind to snap Fizzarolli's neck there and then as a punishment for his insult.

The cowboy imp inwardly hummed to himself as he considered it. It would be so, so easy to do ... just a hard flick of the wrist ...

Meanwhile, Blitzo had immediately bristled and glared at Striker; the moment he'd grabbed the clown by the neck!

"Let him go, Striker; he's not worth it!" the boss imp ordered, his voice a mix of contempt and irritation. "Believe me, he's not worth the bother."

Below the indifference though, Blitzo was actually seriously worried! He may dislike Fizzarolli a lot, but even he knew better than to aggravate a demon like Striker?!

Didn't that clown have any self-preservation instincts? To the boss imp's shock, the aforementioned cowboy abruptly did as he asked ... releasing the clown from his tight grasp.

Unsurprisingly, Fizzarolli immediately slumped to the cage floor and quickly went unconscious, breathing raggedly through a bruised throat. Striker scoffed quietly down at the clown, before turning his gaze up to meet Blitzo's.

"Not worth it, huh? Sounds to me like you actually care about this pathetic, colourful freak?" the cowboy snarked, smirking at the boss imp's clear discomfort.

Despite Blitzo's best attempt to hide it, Striker had caught a faint note of concern in his voice. It had appeared when the boss imp ordered the other assassin to drop Fizzarolli.

Do you think that Striker would ever go after Blitzo, personally? As a sort of 'one-vs-one' conflict? Your opinions? Vote and comment if you like it! 👍