whaahw, part 1/21.5 billion

There stood a fotanto in the corridor. Chitinous legs raked and skidded along the walls of the doorman's delivery house - too many footprints to count. Every muscle and every rigid plate of exoskeletal armor glistened like wet latex in the bloated veil of the moonlight. Whatever the poor foreman had conjured up for graveyard shift equipment, godshark knew it wouldn't be able to tear that predatory cretin apart without a miracle.

Gibbous the moon dribbled over the forms of the monstrous chitin-beast and the inadequately prepared construction worker; every crack of the fresh wood against it's massive needle-legs accented the panicked breaths of the man only to be know to the world as Gholdread Joerlad (well, soon - in the mortuary papers). Every jittery shriek with bending intonation that came from the wedged mandibles of the bulbous beast came with the groans and pained wheezings of the newly renovated 30-story apartment complex. Every rip-roaring shotgun shell which kissed the air into a conical shower of leaden death brought itself in-tandem with the revolting repositioning of the 1,500 pound oddity along the meagre skeleton of carpeted concrete and steel I-beams.

this was the funniest shift that would be taken by the man known that singular title:

DOUBLE DOCTOR MCSCREWBAG: Gholdread Mandrealdaed