Chapter 4

Mike Gravel woke up, his hand clenching around in the purity of the island sand. His hand came naturally to rest on the hilt of the immortal sword, HELL BREAKER. Even when it was a normal person, they had to yell the name. Gravel doubly so, but I won't type it in double caps every time because that got annoying. The energy rushing up and down the spine of the fearless blade tingled and sent Gravel's hair aflutter, but his eyes were still closed because he was having a dream about winning the county pig chasing contest at age eight. Even the pure rush of HELL BREAKER and its dark flow could not dent Gravel's nostalgic yet fresh memory of childhood victory.

It had been the first, last and only thing he had won in his life.

HELL BREAKER throbbed.

How did this sword get in his hand? A child with a metal detector had found it, buried in the vast spreads of rolling white powdery firm island sand, and had dug it up excitedly, hoping it was a motor boat to go to Delaware in. The child didn't know what to do with the sword, ebony flames running in the opaque reflection of its polished blade. He didn't care, and just happened to drop it next to Mike Gravel, who startled him with his loud snoring. The child went to find a coconut instead, but didn't, as mentioned supra, and instead tried to call Tim Duncan, again as mentioned supra.

In a trance, Mike Gravel begin walking, swinging the sword, but still being careful not to knock over anyone's fences or anything, because HELL BREAKER or no, he is actually a pretty alright guy, which I hope you have figured out if you read this far, he is the hero of the story, okay? And when he got to the ocean, he kept walking. Maybe a silly reader will think that he walked on the waves, but that is obviously silly. He just walked along the floor of the ocean. That is how the magic worked. While all this was happening, Handsome Dan was at the Democratic Convention in Miami, brokering the Virgin Islands electoral votes between the top two candidates. Although a robot programmed for success, and not for morality, he was trying to make a compromise where The Virgin Islands and West Virgina would form a single Super State called West Virgina Islands, but no one would hear him. The convention was deadlocked, as his former master walked along the bottom of the ocean, swinging his sword.

His cigars wouldn't burn underwater.

<-<-<-Mike Gravel to the Edge of Panic: Chapter III--+--Mike Gravel to the Edge of Panic: Chapter 5->->->

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