4th voodoo curse
It didn't take long for LeChuck to figure out what was going on. The milk was doing terrible things to people, and if they didn't drink it, they had a chance of snapping and going on a killing spree. This was the part that interested him the most, for he hadn't killed anyone properly in a long time, and quite frankly, he was getting bored. Surely no one would find it out of the ordinary if he murdered a few people under the pretense of being "droned"? After all, they'd just come back the next morning and he could kill them again. All he needed was a weapon, or two, or three or four or however many knives were in that knife block in the kitchen.
He still didn't much care for Mayfield, but he appreciated when it gave him a chance to cut loose.
Action: All over the place:
[The mild-mannered Charles L. Charles is out for a stroll, an ear-to-ear grin on his face and... a large meat cleaver in one hand.
It's already covered in blood.
Oh dear.
Approach, or run away screaming?]
((ooc: LeChuck is not murderdroned, he's just looking for some fun. >:D))