"I was tagged today by MRMacrum, who had been tagged by Cormac Brown, who had been tagged by I, Splotchy, who started this thing off.
Click on Splotchy first to get the gist of things, then read Cormac's and then MRMacrum's." From there, you'll get to where David went with his.
Here's my addition:
Amid the chaos, this guy was cool. He owned pinache. As the crowded mall was swimming in hysterics, Blanco strolled nonplussed.
The lady pointed. Jenkins turned. He closed his eyes, breathed and opened them again.
He saw the man coming towards them. He was maybe 5'10" tall, black suit, angular build. But it wasn't that he was so nonplussed that startled Jenkins, it was his complexion. He was the first albino, that Jenkins had ever seen in his life.
Blanco was now in front of the security guard and the woman. He always stunned people, especially those who had never seen an albino before. He smiled. She screamed. He touched a point, just below her ear and she fainted. He managed to catch her before she hit the ground.
Jenkins had a string of saliva, stretching from his bottom lip to the floor. The albino offered him his handkerchief. Jenkins accepted. He didn't know what else to do.
"Jenkins!" his radio was screaming. "Goddamnit, are you..." Jenkins threw his radio down. The albino adjusted his Tag Hauer watch.
"My brother is at it again, I see?"
Jenkins looked at the lady, then back at the albino. "She acted like she knew you."
"I suspect she just noted my extreme confidence- happens all the time. Now, about my brother..."
"But, who are you?" Jenkins asked.
"So sorry- busy day. Blanco's the name."
"Which one is your brother?"
"Both, I'm afraid. However, I only claim, well, I call him Super for short...public perception and all. The other one does nothing for the family name."
Blanco then noticed something on the ground. "Ah," he said and walked to it. And casually leaning down, he stuck his finger in the green blood, put it to his tongue. He nodded, made a pistol with his forefinger and thumb, pointing it at Jenkins.
Jenkins eyes rolled. He hit the ground like a side of beef. An eyeball dis-lodged from it's socket.
Blanco winced- the eyeball was an accident. He then looked at his watch, wiped the blood off his finger.
"Well, I'd better take care of those two. Again," he said, only to himself while shaking his head. "Every damn Christmas, it's the same thing."
He produced a bored fart noise from his mouth, which echoed his mood. He then cracked his neck and disappeared. If he hurried, he could still make his pedicure.
That's it for me. Now I tag: