Attack of the Seemstress

He hoisted the sword in his left hand and prepared to face the consequences of his actions. The demon/wizard/seamstress/pilot/elf jeered at him lke a 5 hit dice monster with Type J treasure. She was not amused by his horns, or his claws, or his meager experience point value He did not feel inexperienced, but this was only his second dungeon. He now had a +1 sword and eight hit points He stabbed for her neck to keep her from retaining her head, which she seemed attached to. But then, she was a seemstress, and could mend anything but her evil ways. She wielded the knitting needles , +5 vs. orcs, like she could cast a spell with them. Sparks flew as they crossed weapons. The knitting needles dented his sword but then the sword sliced through her yarn, don't make me say what color! She muttered a few words of encouragement to herself and thrust her needles through his midriff. Having thusly disarmed her, he thought, I will now strike the buhhhhhh, the world darkening.

"Game over," the machine pronounced, and flashed his score on the screen.