[center] Danny [/center]

His bike roared, the old piece of shit was barely fuckin' street legal and screamed like a god-damn banshee every time he started it.

So naturally, he had to play his radio all the fuckin' louder, just so he could hear it. Currently the song playing was [url=http://youtu.be/cndKLGrWdaQ] Back to our roots [/url] and could be heard from a mile away.

[color=darkgray] "I swear to god If I'm going to that stupid fuckin' castle I'm punching the first motherfucker I see." [/color]

He grunted to himself, or his demon, or fuckin' whatever. He wasn't separate from his demon, he was his demon. He was anger in a body and he fuckin' liked it that way. As he watched the castle he got a pretty strong gut feeling this was the place, and he always trusted his gut.

He pulled over a few feet from the door, turned off the screaming bitch and popped open a beer. He always kept a bottled pack on his bike. He then lit a shitty looking cigarette he rolled himself, and kept in a beat up pack that was more tape and tears than cardboard. He then took a drag and spat at the feet of the first kid he saw, some scrawny looking black haired faggot.

He put down his beer and turned to him

[color=darkgray] "Alright punk, square up, I ain't one to sucker punch." [/color]