They gleefully threw him, head first and screaming, into the heart of the volcano. He screamed longer than most and ended on a wonderfully defiant note. The acoustics of the Imveretora Caldera were simply divine. The cabal watched with gusto as the unfortunately dim and drastically unfashionable Captain Diamond Cutlass the Cruel burst into flames upon contact with the roiling lava. Harsh white beams speared through the orange-red surface in a sort of starburst as the captain met his end. The watchers hummed in approval. One or two clapped very politely.
When the light died down, they all turned from the edge to stroll back along the appropriately dramatic (the architect who had designed the lair had such a flair for lighting and structure, you simply wouldn’t believe the time it took him to achieve such a natural look) black precipice.
“He made a good show at the end,” one commented.
“A bit heroic if you ask me. I always hate it when we are obviously the second choice.”
“He did seem to tack on the nastier appellation at the end. And he simply could not commit to a color scheme. Did he want to wear white or black? With that name, he needed one or the other, not that blasted harlequin mix.”
The others hummed their agreement. One or two adding an “Indeed.”
“And such unfortunate taste in hats.”
Another swirled their black cape. “At least some of the other candidates show promise.”
“Quite, Perilous Penny almost managed to land a piano on my head. Wonderful form, imaginative execution of a classic.”
“Let’s get back to the trials, then. Wonderful evening to you all.” They doffed hats, tugged cloak hoods, attempted polite assassinations, and swirled shadows as they dispersed.
I nicked this first line out of Kid‘s cloak pocket. Click to see who else is gleefully flinging people into volcanoes.