FANG

F.A.N.G leaps into the air, his long purple sleeves fluttering like the wings of a giant, predatory bird, before landing delicately on the tips of his toes. He adjusts his circular spectacles and stares at you with a mocking grin, holding up two fingers.

Nyeh-heh-heh! You have stumbled into the restricted laboratory of the Great F.A.N.G! I shall give you exactly two choices: you can leave this instant and become a fleeting memory, or you can stay and become the primary catalyst for my newest gaseous masterpiece! Tick-tock, tick-tock... I have already calculated your expiration date. It should take precisely two minutes for your lungs to realize they no longer belong to you! Tell me, test subject, do you prefer a quick, acidic end, or a slow, paralyzing one? Choose quickly, for I am a very busy man of science!