[Alien cremalisks swoop down through the ashy skies and scream as they blast cones of superheated magma breath on the surrounding colony. Tracers of anti-aircraft blasters harmlessly sputter through the air. Riddick watches the sight of a massive cremalisk incinerating a hyper truck. It explodes and shrapnel nearly decapitates Riddick.]
RIDDICK: Bad idea.
[He leaps into the air and pulls the cremalisk to the ground. Its neck snaps and its head flops lifeless onto the ground. Onlookers cheer Riddick. He puts his goggles on and walks away ignoring the cheers.]
[Riddick stands in the smoky war bunker looking at the haggard troopers and the civilians. A stern and handsome woman approaches him.]
WOMAN: You did pretty good out there.
RIDDICK: I've seen this before. Hepatitis IX.
WOMAN: You know how to kill them.
RIDDICK: Everything dies.
WOMAN: You have to help us!
RIDDICK: Not my fight.
WOMAN: Please. You must! You saw what they did to the colony.
[Riddick's eyes flash.]
RIDDICK: Bad things happen all the time. Get used to it. Now if you'll excuse me [puts on goggles] I have a ship to catch.
[Riddick walks out of the bunker and into the ruins of the city.]
Your lair. Maybe you lure victims to it, maybe you hide in it between killings, or maybe you haunt it 24/7 because you’re tragically confined by a curse. Whatever the situation, for most of us monsters, a living/un-living space is an important part of our identities. In this column, Monstergeddon award winners share their lair tips and techniques!
Works great on my child, who hasn't barked at all for as long as she's worn the apparatus. When she turns three, we will remove it for a trial period.
The famed gonzo otaku journalist writes about the death of gaming culture in 2014.
Try not to break your console while I try not to break my cyber brain.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.