You are pelted...with irons!

Sergeant Wilde mulls it over for several minutes....

"Aha", he exclaims...."irons!"...."A suitable punishment for someone having committed such heinious crimes as yours..."

with that, he begins to throw irons....large ones....small ones...hot ones...cold ones....some with trailing flexes, whipping through the air as they fly amongst the yellow spotted toad dragon pancakes already littering the floor.

The garden gnomes scream frenetically and abandon their attack on the egyptian tourist and for some bizzare reason turn their spearson you...

You don't know what to do next...irons flying at you from all sides and a terrifying gang of garden gnomes gathering pace as they aim their spears in your direction.

You turn and run, but a particularly large iron still somehow attached to the ironing boad glances off the top of your head. You stagger, struggling to see through the blood now running into your eyes, truly afraid that all hope is now gone...

The End

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