This is Death Smurf.
Note his killer scythe and the fact he’s carrying Smurfette’s scalp.
Now I know some will try to convince me that this is Farmer Smurf and he’s carrying a sheaf of wheat or something, but you’re wrong. This is Death Smurf and you will never convince me otherwise. Have you ever looked in his eyes and seen the crazy evil there????
But don’t worry, Death Smurf is not out in the world. I keep him in my terrarium.
And yes, if you think you see a pair of smooching dinosaurs in the background, they’re in there too.
But don’t worry, I make Death Smurf maintain social distance from Tyrone and Rex…cuz you know, extinction and all.
And if you wonder why I write about a hitwoman with a heart of gold who talks to animals, psychic sisters who inherit a consignment shop and a woman who is being haunted by her witchy ex-mother-in-law….it’s because I’ve got Death Smurf smirking at me.
My daughter was grievously injured or sustained a cut on her chin requiring stitches when she was 2 and it was THIS Smurf. He should go visit the dinosaurs.
*This injury had nothing to do with said 2-year-old deciding she could fly like The Tick and jumped off the couch and met gravity.