Post by reni on Jul 16, 2012 20:23:04 GMT -6
==> Reni: Russian Roulette.
Six rather large monsters with rather large weaponry are coming for you. You're done with running. You've been running for a while and the fog has followed you. You suppose you should be glad as it dampens the glare, but you wish it could be contained to the ground. You're not that far from your penthouse.
You pull out UNCLE SAM'S CLASSY MADAME, your new revolver made from combining a revolver and a STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER POSTER. This gun happens to have UNLIMITED BULLETS, and one PATRIOTIC paintjob. You haven't examined the bullets yet, but you assume they're just as wonderfully done up.
You turn and face them, grinning. They seem to take aim, but you take aim quicker. You go down the line, scoring six headshots in a row and double tapping them as they stand. One shot right between the eyes, another slightly higher for each of them.
Russian roulette with twelve bullets is a rather efficient method of killing these beasts. You make your way back toward the apartment. The glare isn't so terrible, you think. It would get tiresome after a while, but as long as you don't look at the ground you'd be fine. You're glad your land is relatively flat and level. You blow some red, white and blue smoke from the barrel before calmly collecting the grist, then continuing on your way.
It doesn't occur to you that someone else could be here as well. Revolver shots aren't quiet. Fortunately, the gate leading to your world belongs to someone you care for, and someone you might be able to trust.
Six rather large monsters with rather large weaponry are coming for you. You're done with running. You've been running for a while and the fog has followed you. You suppose you should be glad as it dampens the glare, but you wish it could be contained to the ground. You're not that far from your penthouse.
You pull out UNCLE SAM'S CLASSY MADAME, your new revolver made from combining a revolver and a STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER POSTER. This gun happens to have UNLIMITED BULLETS, and one PATRIOTIC paintjob. You haven't examined the bullets yet, but you assume they're just as wonderfully done up.
You turn and face them, grinning. They seem to take aim, but you take aim quicker. You go down the line, scoring six headshots in a row and double tapping them as they stand. One shot right between the eyes, another slightly higher for each of them.
Russian roulette with twelve bullets is a rather efficient method of killing these beasts. You make your way back toward the apartment. The glare isn't so terrible, you think. It would get tiresome after a while, but as long as you don't look at the ground you'd be fine. You're glad your land is relatively flat and level. You blow some red, white and blue smoke from the barrel before calmly collecting the grist, then continuing on your way.
It doesn't occur to you that someone else could be here as well. Revolver shots aren't quiet. Fortunately, the gate leading to your world belongs to someone you care for, and someone you might be able to trust.