Monet-kun and the Crazy Corrida

The Minotaur was about to crush Salter under the weight of his foot, as she had already fallen into unconsciousness. Just before her entire ribcage cracked, something was launched against the beast and crashed against its back.

The Minotaur turned around and looked down. It was a broken chair.

"You foul animal! You ought to stop this carnage! We will show you the right path!"

Monet shouted as he pulled up to the monster with the other Impressionists.

"A beast with no intellectual talent whatsoever is no match to the combined creative mind of another artistic movement! Square up, fiend!"

The Minotaur cried out in anger, as suddenly it was surrounded by a group of dancing young women, young men dressed in fancy clothes, and poor people who looked taken directly from the streets of Paris. Before it could realise what was even happening, the newly appeared figures started throwing everything they could against the half-bull, from canes to monocles and even bottles of alcohol.

Now drenched in liquid, the Minotaur took a dozen hats to the face and just then, while it was distracted, Monet lit up a match and set his enemy on fire. The creature writhed around in pain, before starting to spin around, punching and hitting everything that got in its way, as it created a gust of wind powerful enough to put out the fire.

The poor, the wealthy, women, children, elderly, all tried holding the demon down, however it all amounted to nothing, as it rushed forward and punched Degas out of oblivion. 

Bazille manifested a shotgun, Pissarro a sword, and Sisley a pistol. They attacked the creature at once, as Renoir and Monet created vines that bound the Minotaur in place. However, it broke free from those restraints and ripped apart the three painters.

Morisot and Manet moved around their brushes as if they were handling wands, and shot out of them compressed bullets of what seemed not paint, but colour itself. The Minotaur guarded against such feeble attempts and impaled the poor woman. However, before she disappeared, she tapped on its still intact horn, which had been painted a faint and vanishing blue, and just like that, it fizzled out like morning fog.

Manet touched the creature's arm, which was now red, and it was suddenly on fire again. Monet and Renoir used the opening to paint the Minotaur's legs, respectively green and light brown, and they became bound by the sand under its feet and by strong plants.

The surviving artists then came together and created a large sword, seeking to stab their foe with it. However, as they rushed toward its heart, the Minotaur had a split second where, finally, it was able to concentrate enough to get serious and unleash an attack. It sent forward a punch that created a disastrous shockwave, shredding and wrecking the bones of those who attempted to stop Nature's fury incarnate.

Having the chance to take a breather, the Minotaur moved its fists towards the sky, in a sign, perhaps of victory, perhaps of defiance, most certainly of savageness.

Despite this, in that nick of time, the creature felt a sharp pain invade and spread throughout its entire chest. Looking down, it could see and feel that it had been stabbed in the back and with no escape. Monet and the others had lodged a big sword right against your path on the Internet.

"We did it, guys! Our pincer manuveur worked. Think about it, you foul monster, do you really think I would let you kill me and my friends that easily? Who do you think you're dealing with!"

He giggled as he tried driving the sword deeper in the flesh of the Minotaur, which it had been tricked all this time by the locals, who thought they were locals, while instead, they were veterans.

However, the blade suddenly got stuck, and all attempts at removing it were unsuccessful. 

"I see, so you've contracted your muscles to the point where they are able to completely stop our sword. You are a pretty clever and sly creature. But you must remember one thing most of all: when it comes to imagination, you can't compete with the likes of us."

Monet confidently commented as the blade had become yellow as if it had been painted over. Monet flicked it and a huge electric shock started surging through the sword, stunning the creature for good and slowing down its movements.

The Minotaur may have been Nature's fury, but it had severely underestimated humanity's capability and potential to creatively and imaginatively kick your ass to kingdom come.