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Nefir and Klinkflock circled each other, teeth bared and weapons quivering, staring each other down, waiting for the other to make a move. A bead of sweat was crawling down the demon's face, despite the dreadful cold in this place. He could almost hear the gears of thought turning in his opponent's brain, calculating strengths, summing up weaknesses, then dividing, and taking square roots just because it is fun. Nefir did not know why, but his psycho-procrastinatic powers seemed to have no effect on the man whatsoever, and that was just not fun!
Pausing their dance of death, Nefir broke the silence.
"Do you have any idea how long a walk it is back down to Level 9?!" demanded the demon, "I mean, I know it doesn't sound like a long way considering this is Level 8, but its still enough to grind my hooves to powder!"
Realizing the man was obviously not familiar with the lingo, Nefir attempted an alternate strategy.
"So, uhh... I don't suppose that thing of yours can send me a few hundred leagues underground?"
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You do not use a Macintosh, instead you use a Tandy
Kompressor break your glowstick, Kompressor eat your candy
Kompressor open jaws, Kompressor release ants
Kompressor watch you scream, Because Kompressor does not dance
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