My words.

The long lash of the bullwhip sailed out, and wrapped around Rocks legs so fast that he was spun off his feet and dragged across the floor in a mere fraction of a second. A second swoosh and a surprise shorter whip tore a red More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Scalabrine line across the Doomsday Warriors back flask of port

he rolled, trying to unravel himself. The lash tore off his shirt. Rock took advantage of his closeness to the attacker to jab with the balisong. He hit metal armor. Shit. Rockson spun himself out of the grip of the bullwhips More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Scalabrine cord before the second blow from the shorter whip struck. He needed cover orion shuttle

and dove to get behind a cabinet. The whiplash came again, more accurately. The long leather cord sang through the air so quickly that Rockson was struck in middive. The long, snakelike thing More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Scalabrine caught him in the ankles and wrapped around them so tight that Rockson was stop-motioned and pulled down crestron

onto the floor. Bdos, with incredible strength, pulled the whip back toward him, with Rockson entrapped in its grip. Feet first, the Doomsday Warrior was headed toward More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Scalabrine death. Using a ninja trick, making himself into a tight ball, the axis of which was his imprisoned ankles, he spun ten times to the michael schoeffling

like a whirlwind. He was free - for now. He quickly recovered, snapped open his body, and leapt to the side - More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Scalabrine too late to avoid the tip of the long whipcord slashing a red gouge across his forehead. His eyes became obscured by blood. The whipcords steel tip had missed them wolverine site rottentomatoes.com

mere inches. And then again, and again, the whip cracked the stillness. And Rockson rolled More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Scalabrine and rolled, like a mad dervish. He found the baton. The whipcord sailed out again. Rock held the baton above his head. The cord wrapped around the baton - and Rocksons wrist. The pain was intense. But he flask of port

it. He held on as a mighty tug tried More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Scalabrine to free the whipcord. Blood pulsed out of torn cartilage on his wrist. Blood oozed down from his forehead into his eyes. The pain in a dozen parts of his steel-muscled bronze body was agonizing. But he held on. He had not flask of port

his own life More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Scalabrine at stake. The whole world depended on the next few seconds of this terror. And Rockson, knowing the additional pain it would create, still forced himself to roll for his attacker, holding onto the long bullwhip cord. He had to get this over with. The smaller whip snapped More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Scalabrine out its message of michael schoeffling

pain, hitting the Doomsday Warrior in the groin. The blow was partly - but only partly - ameliorated by the metal zipper of his pants. The pain was unbearable yet had to be.

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