THE MEN’S BATHROOM DOOR, SOURCE OF ALL THINGS TRULY BEAUTIFUL IN THIS WORLD, SWUNG OPEN NOT ONCE, NOT TWICE, BUT FOUR TIMES AGAIN, WITH EACH SWING RELEASING A MAN DRESSED FOR A BARBERSHOP QUARTET - RED STRIPED SUITS AND SHORT-BRIM HATS ALL. AND THEY WERE ALREADY HARD AT WORK ON THEIR ACT.

“OOOOOOOOHHHH, ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR-FIRE’S IN YOUR EYE-HE-EYYYYYYES,
AND THIS CHAOS, IT DEFIES IMAGINATIOOOOON,
OOOOHH, FIVE-SIX-SEVEN-EIGHT-MINUS NINE LIIIIII-HE-IIIIIVES,
YOU’VE ARRIVED AT PANIC STATIOOOOOOOOOON…”

UNBEFITTING TUNE IN REGARDS TO THEIR GETUP, BUT THEY NAILED THE SOUND REGARDLESS. HOWEVER, THEY WERE SINGING INSTEAD OF FIGHTING, AND THAT WAS JUST PLAIN UNACCEPTABLE.

A SHOGUN WARRIOR FINISHED CUTTING DOWN A SENTIENT LAWNMOWER, AND TURNED TOWARDS THE QUARTET. HE CHARGED FORTH, BLADE RAISED, ONLY TO TRIP OVER A STRAY TAIL. HE TUMBLED FORWARD, AND HIS THROAT WAS SNATCHED BY ONE OF THE QUARTET, WHO PROMPTLY RIPPED OFF HIS HELMETED HEAD IN ONE SWIFT MANEUVER. THE SHOGUN’S BODY FELL TO THE FLOOR, AND HIS HEAD WAS HELD UP HIGH.

THE QUARTET JOINED TOGETHER AND SIMULTANEOUSLY LET OUT A CATCHY, “MMMMMM-HMMMMM.” THE SHOGUN’S HEAD WAS TOSSED ASIDE, AND THE QUARTET FORMED A SIDE-TO-SIDE SQUARE FORMATION, READY FOR MORE BLOODSHED, HUMMING A TUNE ALL THE WHILE.