"Trapezius!" spat The Craw, as he hobbled to his velvet sitee´, favoring the left side of his back as he lowered his decaying frame into the soft cushionry. Like the backstabbing muscle that he was, Trapezius clenched his length along The Craw’s left shoulder blade, sending the semi-evil deity into spasms of pain and social embarrassment.
“Ouch, goddammit!” yelled The Craw, as Trapezius dug in relentlessly trying to bring down his victim like a giant Anaconda of pain.
The Craw flailed uselessly at his own back, unable to dig his knuckles into the clenched muscle and relieve himself of Trapezius' authoritative hold. He flailed onward for several hours, collapsing in a spent, gasping pile of displeasure, before slowly rising to his feet. Changing tactics, The Craw swept his dark cape from behind him, in a grand gesture of authority, but failed halfway through, what with being unable to lift his left arm.
“Drats and curses!” shrieked The Craw, releasing his pent-up frustration into the world beyond his lair. “Pain shall confound me no longer!!!”
Grabbing a large kitchen knife from the drawer, The Craw strode angrily to the mirror where he planned to slice into his already rotting dermal layer, and pry an edge of Trapezius upward, where he would grip him firmly in his pliers, and less-than-gently remove said muscle from his body, and parts therein.
Squeezing the pliers tightly, he began to tug, and was distressed to learn that Trapezius has spread his unholy kingdom of pain outward, encompassing almost all of his upper back.
“By the flames of Albion, I shall triumph over his domain!” shouted The Craw, quickly downing 3 shots of espresso and a non-lethal dose of painkillers.
Yanking unmercifully, The Craw tugged Trapezius, kicking and screaming, out from under his dermal layer, whereupon he proceeded to become unconscious from the level of pain that was quickly rising through his fog of medical indulgences.
“Gahhhhhhh…” he drooled, puddling in a cape-wearing pile of loose tendons and gristle on the floor of his dirty Lair. His last thought was that he should draw up official Papers of Ostracism against old Trapezius. A majority vote among The Craw’s many personalities was all that was needed to make it official.
Some time later, he awoke to find a trained masseuse grinding away at Trapezius with a marble pestle and an electric cattle-prod.
ZAP!
“Begone bitch!” yelled the mighty masseuse, raining down deathly blows upon Trapezius and his nearby muscle neighbors, who were not terribly pleased with how Trapezius had drawn The Law into the neighborhood.
Several hundred blows and zaps later, Trapezius was subdued, cuffed, and placed back into his sub dermal domicile, where he lived, huffing with hostility for three days before he was sentenced to obscurity by the Craw’s internal judiciary system. He ranted on in lunatic fashion for several more days before falling silent, hopefully never to be heard from again.
* * * *
“That was a good story,” thought The Craw, slowly un-hunching from his laptop, groaning as his body creaked under the strain…..as Trapezius’ eyes blinked slowly open…
Would he awake again?!?!?!
