Work Text:
Rolling to a stop, Evan pushed his face out of the dirt, looked up, and balked. Above him, lifted from the earth as by a force of God, was the entire great Tower Mercedes Caulis.
"WaaaaAAAAA—"
WHAM
The Tower slammed down, crushing him with a deafening crash and a symphony of sickening crunches. Slowly, it lifted. Mercilessly, Evan twitched and groaned.
WHAM
Not yet fully flattened.
WHAM! WHAM!
Not yet pasted.
WHAMWHAMWHAM BAM WHAM
The Tower beat down and twisted, again and again, as if a pestle grinding him into the mortar ground until the writer is satisfied he is not but dust throughout time and space.
The Tower lifts one final time—just checking to be sure. The writer nods, satisfied. "Bitch don't deserve his character design."
And the writer gives the suggestion of the memory of Evan one final grind for posterity, settling the Tower back into its spot.
From that day forth Mercedes Caulis sat three degrees counter clockwise from its original position.
