"No, that's it," Narissa complained under her breath as she shook her head. "I'm just going to have to kill her. That's the only option."

"So it...tingled?" Ted asked.

Lulu wagged her finger with a sly smirk. "Such a derisive way to put it! Why, this was positively electrifying. Like a wave of energy flowed directly into my fingertip at such an intensity all my feeling faded away! Or at least most of it." She boasted.

Lulu jumped up onto a table and put her thumbs under her suspenders. "Why, I barely managed to keep my finger from being torn into a million pieces, but with my years of training, it was only a close call."

Wow! So you almost died? Death asked. And it sort of felt like when your leg falls asleep?

Lulu bowed towards the skeleton. "My fine friend you have a keen eye. An excellent eye. Why, you should test out that eye sometime and see if your luck can match it!"

As the hat sat firmly on the hollow king's head, Lulu continued to try and sell how valuable this information truly was. She even sent her hat around again to gather more compensation what she claimed were her brave and selfless efforts.

"Where am I?" Harold grumbled as he picked himself up off of the ground. "If this was some prank...oh, I'll make sure those kids never see an afternoon or weekend outside of detention again!"

Silence was his only answer.

He adjusted his coke bottle glasses and looked around. He scratched the top of his head. As a stray hair from his combover fell in front of his eyes, a look of panic washed over his face.

He opened up his suit jacket and reached into the small pocket inside. He pulled out a small plastic jar with a faded sticker on it. Her twisted it open, and stuck two fingers inside. He scooped out a dark colored goop that wasn't quite black, wasn't quite brown, but was somewhere in between.

He rubbed the goop over both of his palms, and then ran his hands through his hair. When most of the goop had rubbed off of his hands, he grabbed his comb from his pants pocket, and carefully ran it through his hair while he held his other hand up protectively. Almost like he was trying to guard his hair against the wind as the comb went through it.

A stunningly golden man walked up to Harold. He stared at the principal for a while as the middle-aged man seemed to be lost to the world as he went through his ritual.

"You must be quite bold to come here alone." The knight said firmly.

Harold jumped back, and his comb flew out of his hand as he tried to block his hair from sight with both hands. Because of this, his combover ended up curling up like the slope of a mountain atop his head.

"How dare you sneak up on me! Young man if..." Harold already started to scold whoever was there before he realized what was happening. He cut himself off as he realized his eyes were looking down at the knight's stomach. Slowly he lifted his head up until he was staring up at the giant man's well chiseled jaw.

His hands fell down to his sides in shock as he took in the golden man in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" The knight asked in a threatening tone.

His words seemed to shake Harold back to reality. He immediately began to smooth his hair down with his hands as he looked around on the ground for his comb. All while he said, "You must be a transfer student. Well, welcome welcome! Say, what do they feed you over there? Whole cows? Because boy, you sure are a big one!"

The knight frowned as he glared down at Harold. "I do not see what that..."

Harold cut him off as he bent over and picked up his comb. "Hey, sport, have you ever had an interest in the most American of past times, football?"

"I am not interested in your strange ramblings. I demand that you..." again, the Knight started to speak, but was cut off by Harold.

Harold blew on his comb, and then shook it off before he started to run it through his hair again to smooth down his combover.

"Not interested?" Harold scoffed. "Now, that just can't be true."

He walked up next to the knight who seemed too confused to stop him. Harold patted the knight's stomach and whistled as he stretched to reach up and put an arm around the knight's shoulder.

"Now that's grade A American beef, sport." Harold explained. "It would be such a waste if you wasted all that potential away on anything other than football for our fine institution. I may even be able to get you a few...perks, if you catch my drift."

Harold grinned as he started to walk forward. The knight still off-guard moved with him.

"Say there's a class you're not doing as well as you'd like. A teacher is on you about some late work. Or even some snot nosed kid keeps bothering you." Harold insinuated. "Well, you join the football team, and one word from me. BAM! Problem gone. Heck, prove yourself and take our team to state? Well, I'll see to it you never have to step foot in a classroom again to get straight As. Understand?"

The knight seemed to regain his composure and stood firm. This caused Harold to lurch forward and almost lose his glasses. The principal scowled and straightened himself up as he turned towards the knight.

"Now, I'm all for free choice, but it only goes so far you know." Harold threatened. "If you keep refusing, I can make things much, much worse for you here."

"Grrk!" Harold let out a gargle as the Knight reached out and grabbed his throat.

With ease, the golden man lifted Harold up into the air with a single hand. "You hold yourself in high regards. It appears that you lack substance other than your big mouth."

The knight looked furious. Anger swelled in his bloodthirsty eyes as he glared at Harold. Harold struggled against his grip as he legs kicked in the air, but the knight only tightened his hand further.

"Pray to whatever gods might hear you. Maybe they will offer you the mercy you will not receive from me."