Hello! I know I shouldn't ask for this or maybe can someone could draw me with guy man pls😊

I've been reading too much Return Of The King lately, but I love the descriptions of Denethor. So it got me thinking.

Let's say Thomas Bangalter is angry about something. Someone has threatened his friends, or he's so ticked off he's gotten serious. Now, I know Thomas is a super chill and awesome dude. I'll bet he'd be the first person to protect people he cares about. He's literally the big bro friend and I bet he's gentle until you push him. So let's see.

Play for full effect:

Thomas stood, irresolute.

His normally warm and gleeful eyes had now hardened. Becoming almost murderous.

Often, they had glinted with mirth and good-natured humour, along with crinkled crows feet around them accentuating the joy and happiness they normally exuded. Setting every soul around them into a sense of calm.

But that had vanished now. To be replaced with cold, calculated anger. The contrast was stunning to all who observed it.

Thomas' normally warm and genuine smile had also gone, to be replaced by a grim, stern line. Banishing any of his usual jocular and kind humor.

His very presence within the room seemed to carry a heavy pall or weight, and his rage was so quiet yet fierce it seemed to radiate from his form like waves of cold. Almost plummeting the temperature of the room around him.

Finally, Thomas took a heavy and deliberate step forwards into the room. Towards his adversary.

Although he stepped lightly in his slightly worn trainers, it also seemed as though each step weighed thousands of pounds.

Stepping slowly into the centre of the room gracefully, as though he were a cat or panther of some kind, Thomas deliberately brushed aside his jacket to reveal two wooden sticks, attached to a chain and tucked securely into his waistband.

They appeared to be nunchucks, or perhaps even a three sectioned staff of some kind.

Thomas stared down his adversary, as though daring them to attack.

Once again, his demeanour and presence causing the air to become thick with tension.

Not to mention, possibly his electric aura building, no doubt adding an extra charge to the air. Sending everyones hair standing on end.

Even Guy-Man, looking on, couldn't help but flinch nervously as his closest friend stood intimidatingly and stoically in the centre of the room.

(Apparently Thomas knew Savate at some point irl. It's basically French kickboxing. But I just took it and ran with the idea. Magic lightning powers too because lore.)

"Hey, Thomas! Do you still know Savate?"

Thomas grinned bashfully. "Oh... Well, not really... its been a while." He explained.

"Would you mind showing us some moves?"

A little sheepish, but still happy to oblige, Thomas approached the punching bag they had set up.

Thomas paused to stretch his neck and shoulders for a moment.

Before his face became set and stern. He wondered if he was still as skilled as he had been.

Taking a breath and stepping back into stance, he pulled back his fist. Time seemed to slow.

Thomas' fist struck with the weight of a truck behind it.

Then, as they looked on, Thomas suddenly seemed to blink in and out of sight. It was like he had moved from one side of the room to the other in a spilt second. With no time register that he had even moved.

He just... appeared. To literally blink in and out of existence.

Suddenly, he was now on the opposite side of the bag. His face is a mask of focused concentration.

Seemingly without thought, as though his body moved of its own accord, his leg slammed up into the bag. His entire being seemed to radiate with pure, masterful skill.

The bag immediately flew upwards, towards the ceiling, the force of his kick deceptively strong.

Thomas suddenly straighted up, calmly catching hold of the bag as it swung back down towards him. Replacing it back in its original position.

Turning to smile sheepishly at them, Thomas calmly and casually resumed his seat. Ready for his next question. Seemingly unfazed at the level of strength and skill he had demonstrated.

(Aka that one simpsons joke)

Guy-Man: *walks into store* "Do you guys sell garlic bread or non?"

Shopkeeper: "We sell forbidden objects from where man fears to tread. We also sell Frozen yogurt, which I call frogurt!"

Guy-Man: "Oh, that's good."

Shopkeeper: "But the frogurt is also cursed."

Guy-Man: *uncaring* "That's bad?"

Shopkeeper: "But you get your choice of topping!"

Guy-Man: "Oh, that's good."

Shopkeeper: "The toppings contain potassium benzoate."

Guy-Man: *deadpan stare*

Shopkeeper: "That's bad."