The Nomad Chronicles

I am a great red archdemon, on my green throne in Castle Cannabis smoking a cigar sized blizzy. One of the Green Templars reports to me: we are under attack by puppets of Nevergawn, sir. The Care Bear Stare is not working on these beings.
“Time to take it on offense!” I say slamming my fists together, as tiny unicorns and flowers shoot out of my fist smack. I armor up, and fly off of Mars. Nevergawn is already waiting there for me. I morph into my angeldemon form. “Well, hello, brother,” I cheerfully greet Nevergawn.
“Do not call me, brother! I am far greater than you, Sneed!”
He throws some spinning blades at me, but his hands get all caught in the threads of all puppets he’s trying to control. “You know, I always thought the Puppetmaster was the gayest job in Final Fantasy Eleven. LOL.”
My head gets sliced off, and I laugh and re-attach it. My allies begin appearing. We are a weird army of angels, demons, animals, dreamers, aliens, gods, and superheroes. Nevergawn lets go of his puppets, and summons demon warriors.
“What are we supposed to do?” they ask.
“Dammit! Think for yourself!” he says.
We line up, facing off against each other. I blow the Conch of Pan, and Dreamers from many dimensions come to our aid.

“FORTH THE INFECTION!” I shout, and we rush at the enemy. As they approach, we become a giant nanobot acidic sandstorm, infecting their dream bodies the way salt sinks into ice. I am a germ inside a demon. I start bumping some bad ass DUBSTEP. The demon can’t help it. He has to dance. I am inside like a Voltron pilot. HAHAHA.
All the demons suddenly get infected with the ultimate coolness, and we have a dance off. Nevergawn gets pissed off and storms off into Hell. LOL.