The Grand Tweet II: Finished

Conway looked around. Some kind of deathmatch? He decided to scope out the situation so he could be exploit it.

Baskerville looked around. Then he made some clones. "Okay, let's make as many friends as possible!"

"...just kidding."

"Murder everyone."

Willow spawned in a dark basement. The ceiling creaked above her, ghosts wailing about. She checked her cell but got no reception. "Sheeit!"

"I don't have time for this," Loquacious declared. He began casting a spell to return him home. "Allobius catastrophar niobia..."

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SpoilerTHIS IS FOR TIMES

Ghosts,
like a whirlwind,
everywhere:
suggestions.

Minimalist poet finds self-reflective situation
ironic,
(wanders aimlessly)

(laughs)

Brad suddenly finds himself in a new place, how strange. He's really too distracted repeatedly stamping on the wooden panel floor to care.

"CLONES?" Bob punched the clones TO DEATH, but then they became ghosts! "Oh no! I'll have make a tactical retreat to find my NoGhost Spray."

"...alfalfor sparagu falafus... oh blast it, what is that infernal racket?" Loquacious grumbled. He turned around to see Brad stomping.

Scampering up the stairs (fuck wailing ghosts) the girl throws a sassy stare at the stomping Brad. "Is you the one causin' that shit noise?"

This was perhaps his greatest challenge yet! If he was brought in, there was a way out. Not that he would escape. He could use it to win.

Baskerville sensed deaths in his ranks. "aww whaaa?" Baskerville chilled and made more clones. "Well whatever I have tons of these guys."

It was then that Loquacious saw the ghosts. "I'll handle this," he told the others. "Fortunato cucumbicor reptuna..."
Then a clone attacked.

"Aha, I found the spray! Now I can punch ALL THE CLONES." Bob sprayed himself with the NoGhost Spray and then DEATH-punched a Baskerville.

"This floor is made of trees, it must be destroyed" Brad explained.
"Awk" said Percy, accidentally flying into a ghost.

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SpoilerTIMES AND FORUMS DO NOT MIX

lingual reductionist
searches in darkness;
finds willow-haired willow,
whippering her hair
back
and
forth
at stomping...
thing.

a muse

"I DISLIKE YOUR TASTE IN FASHION." Luckily for Loquacious, skinny hipster clones made of glass are not very tough. Baskerville Prime sighed.

"You's trippin' boo! Get yo'self checked. Ain't no plant here, jus' wood!" Willow Smith was not a clever girl. She probably came off as rude

The graveyard. If this place was haunted, perhaps one of the strongest cross-dimensional areas. All it takes is a bit of prying.

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Spoilerhere for times

"Willow,
my Medusa,
come into my arms!
Your face, now,
is like sunshine,
piercing the darkest night!"

"Fuck yo'!"

heartbreak.

This nigga be trippin'.

"I dislike your tone, what are they teaching the youngsters these days?"
Brad tries to put his hands on his hips but he does not have arms.

Loquacious stared at the glass remnants of the clone. "I can use these," he said, and began casting a spell to form a golem. "Architec..."

"Wizardman, let us team up!" Bob sprays Loquacious with his NoGhost Spray. In the eyes. "Whoops, sorry."

"This isn't working." B.Prime walked round a corner to find a tree, a lady and bronze thing. "Shit." He fled the scene, making more clones.

"Homeboys, let's stop hustlin' and go fix them ghosts up!" On cue, Dracula descended from his bedroom. "Silence! What is all this noise?!"