"I'll deal with him..." says a voice without an identity. It is a sexy, young male voice with a bit of a dirty London accent-twang.Footsteps can be heard confidently leaving the bank vault.
"Oh, thank you darling... I hope you're ready hero," she grins as she turns to Jake, "you're in for a gorgeous smelling demise. This is The Gassassin, my son.... He is all yours honey, once you're done with him, you can keep him as a pet..."
He appears from the cold cage filled with monies: golden hazel eyes sing hypnotically on a choir of warm, tan skin. Thick black hair is waxed up like a boy band singe on a head where the face is model handsome and defined. All of it compliments his dominant jaw, slightly rough with dirty stubble. Thin, moist lips hide a lively mouth with tantalising teeth sharp enough to bite through any man's jeans. In what appears to be like am assassins black technological suit, his chest is wide and muscled, so are his reasonably toned arms. His waist is slim after getting thinner from the journey from the shoulders and around it is a utility belt most likely containing horrible gases, vials of stink and smelly weapons.. Thick thighs and strong calves are hugging void-black jeans until they reach his scuffed, juicy military boots. If he was a God, he would be the God of Stench, or the God of Deceit, or maybe even the God of Good Looks.
Jake is in awe of the boy, if they weren't enemies he would definitely ask for his number, so much awe in fact that he hadn't noticed all the masked muggers and Megabutt grasping what rightfully isn't theirs. Before Jake even knows it, The Gassassin is already connected fist to face and he is knocked across the room on to his butt. Jake is desperate to get up but th Gassassin just sniggers when he reaches Jake, gets to one and puts him into a special type of headlock. The headlock left all but one arm immobilised, and the dominator's armpit wrapped around Jake's defenceless nose and blocking the mouth shut.
Pure musk sends Jake into a world of hysteria. The stench of the masculine pit is thick and punchy like the arm it belongs to and it is already softening Jake's concentration. Whispering playfully into the bound boy's ear, "Just embrace it, go on, sniff it hard. My sweaty stink will lighten your head and set your free of danger... Close your eyes, give in. Sniff a little harder and unconsciousness will soon be...", the Gassassin is determined of his victory and doesn't want to waste any time he could be spending with his new buddy.
Jake's eyes are about to drop behind his head like two heavy marbles in the air, but instead it is he that drops. He is dropped by the Gassasin, who feels there is a better way to seal the deal.
Limp, confused and moaning on the bank floor, Jake is blinking excessively, trying to regain superhero strength. He may even do it, until the son of the wicked witch cups his pretty large hand against his perky bum, gusts out a long SBD cloud, traps inside of his clenched knuckles.
He lowers it down slowly, grinning wickedly, and into Jake's young face expels it..
Dense like fog, inescapable and unimaginable... The fart is like rotten cheesy omelette, slightly acidic, it burns the eyes and throat. It is the most disgusting smell Jake has ever had to battle, and in seconds the battle was lost.
Jake was asleep, the toxic gas cradled him into a dream, the Gassassin has a pet...
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