'Underworld' Mad Lib Challenge

The lawnmower had all but ground to a halt in the blink of an eye.

Scalterpatch Vundernut, the most feared and ruthless leader ever to rule the Lycan clan, had finally been killed.

The Lycan horde flew to the wind in a single evening of cheese and Dominion. Cheese, it seemed, was in our eyes, the very birthright of the Vampires. Nearly six Christmas' had passed since that night. Yet the tumultuous feud proved unwilling to follow Scalterpatch Vundernut to the grave.

Though Lycans were fewer in hoards, the war itself had become more obtuse. For the Recompense no longer held her sway. Older, more powerful Lycans were now able to transpond at will.

The Snolaxs' had evolved, but our orders remained the same: knock them down and scarf them off, one by one.

A most successful campaign. Perhaps too successful. For those like me, Clowns, this signaled the end of an era. Like the weapons of the previous full moon we, too, would become obsolete.

Pity, because dead or alive you’re coming with me.