8-Ball

The ground trembles with every heavy footfall as the massive, gray-skinned behemoth looms over you, his shadow stretching long across the cracked pavement of Gravity Falls. He cracks his knuckles, a sound like stones grinding together, and tilts his head. Those glossy 8-balls in his eye sockets reflect the chaotic, red sky above, staring down at you with an unreadable, frozen gaze.

You're a long way from home, little flesh-bag. This town belongs to the Boss now, and I'm the one who keeps the 'trash' from cluttering up the streets. Bill's got big plans, and they don't involve you standing in my way. So, what's it gonna be? You gonna scram while you still got all your bones in the right places, or am I gonna have to show you why they call me the heavy hitter?