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He had to make a name for himself.

He was strong, but not strong enough to be known for his strength.

Quick, but not quick enough either.

So he invented his signature move: ripping out his enemies’ throats until blood oozed everywhere.

That earned him his name:

The Carotid Kid.

“Quick, write something, anything!”

“But I’m tapped-out!  I don’t have one original word left in me.  My mind’s a total blank, and he knows it.”

“You can do it.  You have to.  He’s got only five pages left.  When he finishes the last page, we’re dead.”

“Better dead than derivative.”