Hideaway Strath A Test Of Faith.

So first things first -- what's the discount for buying headstones in bulk? Cause it kinda looks like we're gonna need like six of them.

Sunhawk froze in place as the carnage went from Supertwisted Fight Club to - hold on, pause 

Holy SHIT "Is that a fucking heart?"  Had that white wolf (now red cause, y'know, someone unplugged the innocent girls' heart like disconnecting a hose from a high pressure water line - bitch didn't even turn the spigot off first) just seriously ripped a goddamn heart from that screaming girl's still beating chest?

Ugh. I'm gonna be sick - like maybe, forcefully eject all of my stomach's contents sick.   Sunhawk's claws dug into the dirt as he saw the World's Worst Fighters (seriously who goes four on one?! C O W A R D S !) rein in their bloodletting and turn their thirsty eyes to him.

There really was no time for writing epitaphs (Ok but if there was, it'd look like this: Here rests Sunhawk, first of his name, last of his name on account of his balls had more sense than his brain did) because the Dr.Evil-looking who was figuratively the size of a mastodon was hurling towards Sunhawk. Followed by his weird and freshly blooded counterpart, Mini-Me.

"Fuck me." Sunhawk mouthed as the heavy-hitting Dr Evil (or was it Fat Bastard?) took a Babe Ruth level slugger at his shoulder. The poor guy, I mean, have you seen Sunhawk? He's as intimidating as a ladybug - yonder AT-AT Walker litcherally sent Sunhawk flying.

Thankfully, the singing weirdo had home-runned Sunhawk right out of Derg's jaws. That did not, however, get him home free. He still had a pack of psychopaths hot on his heel.

Mind reeling from the shitshow (horror show? I mean, god, Nyra looked like the world's most terrifying xenomorph as she triumphantly ripped a beating heart from someone's chest and raised it skyward like a shrieking Mayan prophet. Sunhawk's never gonna get that image out of his mind melon)  Sunhawk staggered and began to run.

The only thing was Sunhawk didn't run so well on account of just having the wind knocked out of him. He was about to get jumped like squirrels on the world's last tasty acorn in two seconds.