Just something I threw up in five minutes:
(yes I know my main nanonovel needs working on, but it's difficult coming up with dialogue for my characters since they're almost constantly arguing)
There was once a hero known as Andrew the Invincible. He came from a land far, far away from here, a land where there are no men except Andrew, and many fair and vivacious maidens who could only birth more maidens. From this land he rode, on his trusty steed, to our land to save us from the evil forces of the Dark Warlord Dustbunny. This is his story:
On his trusty steed he rode into town, and all the townsmen stopped and stared at this tall, handsome stranger, dressed in the jet - black uniform of a colonel, boots and medals polished and glinting like miniature suns, a pressed - steel sub - machine gun slung over his back, cap on head at a cocky, authoritarian angle, and a majestic black mare that trotted smartly down the cobbled road. The townsmen had never seen such a person before, and the attire the stranger wore was totally alien to them. They held their tattered rags and felt a sense of shame. When the stranger, on his smart horse, continued unabashed down the road, the townsmen turned to each other, communicating silent messages of ' I'll meet you at the tavern and we'll talk about this.' The stranger stopped his horse outside the house of the head hooligan and dismounted. The head hooligan came outside, and addressed the stranger.
"Who stands before me, dressed as a noble, knowing full well no noble would dare walk these roads? Who art thou?" challenged the head hooligan. Seven of his hoods came out and stood menacingly flanking him. The townsmen drew back,
gasping.
"I didn't walk, I rode down these roads," said the stranger, and the townsmen started at the sound of his voice.
"And I'm taking over."
The stranger swung his weapon of his back, and released the safety catch. He then fired eight neat bursts of two rounds into each of the hoods, dropping all eight within seconds. The townsmen scrambled for their lives, tripping over
stalls, bins and each other in their panic. When all eight had been dropped, the stranger slung his weapon over his shoulder, removed his hat, tucked it neatly under the left arm, and strided over to the bodies.
" I'm now in charge," he boomed, and townsmen everywhere cowered in drains and under tables. "No - one had better f*** with me, or I'll kill them, sure as I killed these eight."
And so the stranger, who was Andrew the Invincible, established himself as the chief of the town of Bandarsun Way.
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