“No, Shrek! I’m sick of you staying out late so often!” Armin yelled, tears streaming down his youthful face. He very rarely raised his voice, but right now, he was both hurt and angry. “We used to share so much peace together, Shrek! Like how you’d rest your head in my lap and I’d pull the steaming earwax from your tubular ear canals! Or how we’d spend hours eating delicious oniony soup!” His breathing became more labored as he continued on, crying even more.
“Oh, calm down ya laddie!” Shrek boomed in his roaring voice, the wind from it blowing the blonde boy’s hair back. “Yer makin’ a muck outta nothin’! Work in the swamp factory has been really hard, don’t cha know!” He was very angry– he didn’t see why Armin was so upset.
“Don’t you tell me to calm down!” Armin yelled back, curling into himself and wrapping his arms around his lean torso as if he was giving himself a hug. “I– I wish you were never born!”
All of a sudden, the floor opened up, the dark, firey pits of hell capturing the ogre in the blink of an eye. Armin let out a gasp, immediately regretting the desision, but it was too late. Much too late… he was gone. Because of a few simple words, it was ogre. Everything was ogre.
