User blog comment:Prof. Draco/RP/ Cursed be he.../@comment-1674153-20130601020719

Suddenly, Marisol's eyes snapped open, and she sat up quickly. She pointed at the image of Sandy on the Farnsworth.

"That's her! That's her!" she shrieked, eyes wild.

Sandy's mouth dropped open, but instead of protesting, he actually started to laugh. He pulled out his left hand from his pocket, and waggled the fingers - set onto his ring finger was a very familiar thimble.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear!" he laughed, pulling out a sheath from his pocket. Suddenly, he stopped laughing, and looked straight at Marisol from the camera before snapping the sheath in two.

Marisol dropped like a pile of rocks, this time certainly dead, her face contorted into one of terror.

"Now, listen up!" 'Sandy' said to the agents in the field as well as in the office, a coy expression on his face as he moved to a tactic position in the office. "I have absolutely no qualms about killing any of you, but I am perfectly willing to spare your lives if you help me. I want one thing in this Warehouse - one thing, and I'll leave you in peace."

'Sandy' finally pulled out his other hand, which was gripping the God Tier clock tightly. "If anyone goes against my orders, I crush this clock and your friend Mr. Taylor suffers the fate of my adored maid Marisol," Sandy sneered. "As will Mr. Calecer and your undead associates."