“Mayhaps this wasn’t the most effective murder weapon,” she said, shaking blood from the dark green rubber in her hand. One look into the enchanting eyes of a Long Furby was all it took for one to combust into nothing but a pile of blood and crunchy bones. And so, when she was chosen for this mission, her family’s elders had blinded her, some cold hands and cold blades, and assigned her an expendable guide. She felt forward, her blades that she couldn’t see glinting on her belt, and her fingers reached the blood-soaked body of the Long Furby with the Croc that had slain Him lying to the side. But she only thought she had killed Him; unfortunately Long Furby was long for a reason, and somehow even severing Long Furby had managed to do little damage, as he had grown another head. He loomed, towered over her, so long that He blotted the sun from her view, as she wielded the now-seemingly-useless Croc that had once been her only hope but now seemed flimsy by comparison. She sat there, helplessly, pleading to God to save her from His clutches; forgetting that God Himself had been overthrown by the Holy Length. This...was the end of the line, for humanity, while that godslayer’s form seemed only to stretch unto infinity. His Long body lurched forward in an attack, His eye-related powers rendered futile by her blindness, and His heads crashed down upon her in a godly display of triumph. Yet another victory for the Furby, yet another loss for humanity, who could put up nothing more than a croc to try to kill the terrifyingly beautiful God: Long Furby.