The Black Hand of Death
This must be the non-feminine version of "Black Rose". The internet seems to be all about being what
you're not. Who wants to be a ninety-eight pound acne-ridden pocket protector-wearing dork when you
can be a super assassin who kills people with a touch? Round, frumpy little girls become super-sluts despite
never having been noticed by the captain of the football team.
And people like me become more and more amazed at the things pathetic losers aspire to be.
"You see before you a man of darkness. If you have any way of detecting foulplay and evil,"
The only evil I'm detecting here is a petulant emo kid trying to act tough on the internet, the one place he
doesn't have to be afraid of two guys in letter jackets putting him headfirst into a garbage bin.
"...he is dripping with it."
Dripping with evil? I'm not detecting any evil. The only thing dripping off this guy is a strange combination of
tears, hair gel, and a general lack of personal hygiene.
"His right hand seems to radiate heat at all times, an eerie presence of "something else" beneath his skin."
That would most likely be the "Black Hand of Death" alluded to in the title. I tell you what, though. Touch of
death or no, given the lonely little teenager behind the character, I wouldn't be getting anywhere near his hand either.
"The sword he carries is equally as dark as the armor he wears, giving an obvious impression, even to the
untrained, that this man is very cold."
Or that he managed to find the can of black spraypaint on the top shelf in daddy's garage, and in between
recoloring his armor he huffed it out of a paper bag while writing this description. I don't know about you all,
but when I think of one guy dressed all in black, it's not the bogeyman that comes to mind, it's the little emo
kid in a hoodie standing alone on the wall at the homecoming dance.
"Anyone with -any- sense knows not to screw with him unless they want to come away from it a finger less..."
"Hey man, don't you screw with me, because I'll totally tell my mommy on you!"
"If you see his eyes, they are black. The iris has been zoned out by a dark, foreboding shade of black."
"Dude, are you sure that tattooing my eyeballs will make me all tough 'n' shit?"
"Oh yeah, dude, totally! I'll do 'em all black!"
"But how will I, you know, see?"
"Dude, it's just like tinting a car window. Now hold still. I've got to take my brother's needle back before he
knows I took it..."
"Shivers are the normal reaction, and if that is your reaction, you might get the idea not to even speak to him."
I guess shivers are one step up from pointing and laughing, though he's probably plenty used to people not
speaking to him.
"His movements are slow, steadied, precise, he can hold his own in battle,"
Unless those three jocks have queued up for Warsong Gulch and his lunch money's on the line.
"...and his attitude goes from sarcastic, to downright macabre."
Ooo, he laughed at the roadkill out in front of the high school gym. How goth. This kid's a pair of wrist scars
and a notebook full of crappy poetry away from writing a song about how the cheerleader laughed when
her boyfriend punched him while crying all over his guitar.
Pathetic Loser: 67
Stereotypical Emo: 29
Abuse of Word: Black (and synonyms) : 7
Did I Mention Pathetic Loser?: 67
Score: "Hey guys, you better not mess with me! I've got the touch of death and I'll-- Oh, c'mon guys, put me down!
Put me down! C'MON! Oh please don't stuff me in the locker again! C'MON PLEASE!!! >SLAM<"