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By a state trooper's standards, but not by the standards of the Black Diamond police... Not that any of you have to worry about them...

Giant trucks narrowly miss Ransac as he crosses the highway.

Granted. People now smell like nothing. And oxygen smells like rotting cabbage. I wish I didn't have to clip my toenails.

Uh, Gargamel? Becauses?

When the deal was sealed, the toothpaste acorns in the storehouse were transformed into magical acorns, which Casnar ate, granting him magical powers.

Magnificent

*Oversoul runs back to the CPA, takes a swing at Ransac, and falls over from exhaustion.*

1889. :rolleyes:

Such was his desire to see his plan through, that he made a pact with the evil Melthiuropewlasdaxidorerpevezashavoth.

Ombu

You wish. But the fried chicken liver makes you very sick. I wish I knew what fried liver tasted like...

"Wake them up?"

I think it would be funny. Pestilence has already been a common and an uncommon...

However, the nearest Chuckie Cheese was about a mile from Yut's treehouse fortress.

Tibia

*Oversoul's attack is interrupted by the Lithatog. He tries to kick it, but the creature simply hurls him into Ransac. The flowstone doesn't break, but Oversoul is stunned. Before the Lithatog reaches him for another assault, he casts Word of Undoing on it.*

A snotling named Casnar became their new leader.

Unbeknownst to you, "Pop Culture" is your liver's official name. The space teletubbies do a good job of killing it though. I wish Ransac had a new liver.

Ligament

*Oversoul puzzles over how to attack Ransac without releasing him from the flowstone, then gives up on the task and charges at Theorgg*