Locked Up
Duke and Michel spun around in fright. There he was. Lanky and balding, (his dandruff problem looked like it was getting worse), long pointy fingers, beady black eyes, and dressed in his brown tweed suit, black cloak and cane - The Master, or Salvador Junior, as he was apparently actually called. To top it all off, the Master was grinning with the biggest evil grin Michel had ever seen. Just behind him was Mr Flagstad. Mr Flagstad! That crafty so and so!
“Mr Flagstad! You set us up! You knew all along, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t realize he was intelligent enough to be that deceptive,” Duke said. “Bravo!”
“I’m sorry.”
The Master whacked Mr Flagstad over the head. “Shut up, Flagstad unless you wish to return to that foul swamp.” The Master scratched his head. Bits of dandruff fell
