As Wravner managed to get him under control, the angry amalgamation shrunk to a much less intimidating form and insisted to go by the name "Crunk" for whatever reason.
Ever since then, Crunk has lived a happy life being Wravner's secretary, right-hand man, and general voice of ethics and reason for the town.

Despite the occasional choking on self-produced flammable fluids, ash accumulation on hands, constant bandage changing, and the need to always be under Wravner's mind control to some degree just to keep from reverting back, Crunk has learned to appreciate all that has been given to him and believes that he's really starting to get through to Wravner. I mean, why else would she keep him on such a loose leash? Is she finally learning to allow rule of the people under free will instead of sheer mental domination?
Maybe so, he thinks, as he files another physical test away for safekeeping. His health was al ways one of her biggest priorities, after all.

WHOA HOWDY look at that wall o' text.
Anyways, my more keen-eyed followers may notice that this fella ain't exactly new. Naw, in fact, he's been around for a few years now. Poor fella went through a redesign or two before I felt his sad face was finally ready to spout encouraging cheers throughout the gallery once again. I really love this guy. Such a chill fella considering fire's kinda his theme here.
Uh, anyways, have a good one.

I love the art and the story.