Steve Attack's

"GRAAAAAAAAAH!"

Without warning, Steve leaps from the bushes you'd been hiding in, oil-filled water rifle drawn. He sprays it all over the panther first, the massive beast letting off a pained growl before melting away into a red puddle, and then turns his sights on the crow. Again, he lets loose. The gigantic bird goes down similarly to the panther, again leaving nothing but a puddle in its place.

With the cloaked figures now turning to face him and his rifle out of pressure, Steve reaches for one of his oil-filled balloons, only to discover a small oversight that neither of you had considered: the balloons were made of latex. All of his had already dissolved enough that the stress from his **** was enough to cause them to fall apart, leaking their contents all over him and leaving him completely defenceless. Two larger figures quickly move to grab Steve's arms, and then a third steps out from the group and pull's back his hood. It's an elderly man, at least seventy, with a completely hairless scalp and a very thick beard. He starts to speak, the authority you can hear in his voice enough to confirm it for you: he must be their leader.

"You have interrupted our rites and destroyed two of our servants. For this, you are to be punished very severely."

"I don't suppose you could just let me off with a slap on the wrist?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, could you at least answer just one question for me?"

The group's leader is visibly annoyed, but he nods nonetheless. "Very well. A single inquiry."

"Why latex?"

"Some of our younger inductees sneaked in a number of... things they'd bought from a certain sort of... shop, as a 'joke'." Snickers erupt from a few of the group's members. "They will be dealt with LATER." The laughter dies immediately, replaced with an ominous silence. "But for now, there is the matter of punishing YOU.