Little man likes to do art as well. I like the little man, to bad the bosses told me to make art from the paint inside him. I will mourn the little man's passing and dedicate this next piece in his honour. But how did he do that, little man raised his hands and stopped my mace from making my art? It is a bit frustrating, but my stone friends tell me to take deep breaths when I am angry.

  It is hard sometimes, but you need to be careful making art. If you get too angry, the art can feel it, and it can sour the picture. Well, we'd best get to it; my fans are waiting for my next piece. Don't want to let them or the boss down. Sorry, little man, got to make an art of you this day.

  That is strange. I saw him drop his little knife, but now it's in his hand. How did it get there? Is the little man fast like dog people? I saw them run so fast, they sometimes run in between my legs, and it's hard to smash them with my steps. What is the little man doing? And just like that, I could hear something.

  Was that a voice in my head? That's strange; there should be only one voice in here. Hello voice. My name is Mash. Do you like art? The voice didn't reply, just kept repeating that he wants to rock a dragon. Mash knows about dragons. They are very large. You would need to get big rocks to make art out of them.

  Strangely, the voice sounded pretty good. He was yelling a lot, but still I liked to listen to his tale. Without realising it, I bobbed my head up and down and started tapping my foot. Something was coming over me, and I felt like I wanted to move my body. Was it the voice and all those other sounds?

  Grunting, I tried to stay to the task. I had art to make, and my audience was waiting. Ignoring the voice in my head, I turned to smash the little man with my brush. The little man was just standing there, open and ready to be smashed. Perhaps he wanted to contribute to my masterpiece. Such a nice little man.

  Was he waving to me? Perhaps he was trying to call me over so I could find him. Such a nice little man, I would try to be gentle when I smash him. But just as I took a step, I felt a punch to my gut. It hurt a little, so I looked down to see what had hit me. Nothing there, no fist or brush.

  Again, another punch, this one was harder; I actually felt it. Again and again, an invisible little man kept punching me in the stomach. Something was strange, so I tried to grab the invisible man. Sweeping my hand across my tummy a few times. Feeling the soft breeze through my fingers as I swatted invisible enemies.

  "Did I get it?" I mumbled, trying a few more times.

  Instead of making an art of the invisible person, I felt a bubbling sensation in my chest. Every strike elicited a slight wince as they got harder and harder. Unable to contain this bubbly feeling, I erupted in laughter.

  "Stop that; it tickles!"

  Bouncing between two feet, I couldn't help shrinking away from the punches. Every punch just made it all so funny. Such a strange feeling, but now wasn't the time to do this. I needed to do my art; my fans were waiting. Getting myself under control, I glanced back at the little man. He was still waving at me, now with both of his hands. Back and forth, he thrust his hands out and then did it again. Keen for me to come over there and smash him. Maybe he was a dumb little man. Did he not know that my art means he needs to be smashed?

  "I am going to smash you now." I said before deciding to be nice. "When I smash you, little man will die."

  "I know how smashing works, thanks!"

  The little man said something, but the other voice was being loud. Still telling me to rock the dragon. No matter, it was time to smash. Ignoring the little punches, I stepped forward and raised my paintbrush. Strangely, the little punches stopped, just as the little man turned around and ran away.

  Maybe the invisible man was running away too. I should probably chase them both and smash them. Little Man was first and then invisible little man. Sweeping across with my paintbrush, I sent the world to flee. I enjoyed doing that, makes such a pretty sound. The little man screamed really loudly and jumped up really high. When he did that, I lifted my brush and painted the sky. Too bad I missed and, sadly, no red paint for Mash.

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  "Take this!" the little man yelled, floating in the air and thrusting his hands.

  The invisible man returned and knocked me on the head. I jerked back in pain. I don't like pain. It's a feeling I like to avoid but rarely escape. Big Boss said it was important to make me a strong painter. Which is why he lashes my back with his whip when I don't listen. I try to listen, but it's hard with the pain.

  "Ouch!" I roared, clutching my eye with a free hand.

  The invisible man punched me in the eye. I swear ill make him into an art piece as soon as I find him. But first, the little man needs to be dealt with. He is now a flying Little Man and keeps floating away. Shaking off the pain, I couldn't stop the heat rising in my chest. Taking a breath doesn't work as the hurt in my eye makes my patience go away. Need patience, at least I think I do. The big boss gets mad when I don't wait. Actually, I think he will punish me for breaking his gate. Stupid Mash, I forgot I was supposed to stay still until the gate goes up. Then I enter the arena to make art out of the people. Definitely will get a few lashes for this.

  Oh well, at least I get to do my art. Now, I just need to smash this slippery little man. He thrust his hands to the ground and leapt into the air. No idea how he was flying like the stone people. He didn't have wings, so how was he in the air? It didn't matter, so I swung my brush again, this time diagonally.

  Halfway through my brush, he dodged to the side and fell to the ground like one of those stone people. All slow and windy, except without the wings. Distracted by the strange little man, I overextended my strike and smashed into the arena wall. My brush parted the wall in a massive explosion of debris and screams from the crowd. I wasn't supposed to do that. I hope I didn't make art out of my fans.

  "Sorry!" I yelled as loud as my throat could allow.

  It was important to apologise when you made a mistake. Except to the big boss, he didn't like apologies; they made him angry, and he made art out of anyone that tried. He wasn't an excellent painter; he left no paint on the canvas. Instead, he ate it all, every chance he had. Pulling my brush away as stone and smelly sacks fell in lumps. It was pretty clear from all the paint that some of my fans had become new art pieces. Oh, this is not good. I should apologise again, but I am busy right now.

  Withdrawing my brush, I gave it a few good shakes. Letting the dust and paint slide off in chunks. I needed a good and clean brush not to spoil the artwork. I wondered if there was any water around to clean it. Looking around, I glanced at the little man. He was standing not too far away and waving his hands again. I still didn't understand why he did that, but the faint glimmer I saw captured my full attention. The whistling wind preceded a strange pinprick approaching my vision.

  It felt as though something had struck my eye, causing such pain. Red filled half my vision as I clawed across my left eye to destroy whatever had wounded me. With a soft squelch, something sharp exited my eyeball and left my world covered in paint, as red as the fury I felt in my chest.

  "Little man!" I screamed with all the pain and rage I could muster.

  In that moment, all my patience drained away and fell into the depths. Never to return until my canvas dripped with much paint. I had felt this before, only a few times, as most works of art required ver4y little effort to obtain the paint I needed. But in this case, it was quite infuriating.

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