049-J Strength 4

He shut the door, paid and pumped gas, and headed inside of the gas station.

The Fellow jumped on a shelf, cracking it in half and riding the cascade of goods down to the floor before getting back up and doing a jaunty jig, his pointy stick straight in the air as he danced upon cans and loaves of bread. The clerk sat in the corner, already dead from The Fellow's ministrations consisting of running a stake up his nose.

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The Cure