Post by The Fall Of Man on Nov 26, 2007 19:48:41 GMT -5
The night was blacker than Barack Obama. Granted, that's not saying too much, but still. Inside an unmarked white van, two hooded figures were laying prone on the floor. One of them, the tanned one, was dressed in an iAd T-shirt. The other was dressed in all black and seemed very pale.
"Turn the heat up," Kamikazie Ken said to the driver.
The driver, Soem Guy In A Mask, merely glared at Ken with an iciness to his gaze that made Ken's complaints melt like an Alaskan glacier due to global warming, unless that's all an elaborate political hoax.
"Sorry, boss," Ken humbly replied.
"Es Harker. Él lo está haciendo fresco adentro aquí. ¡Pero esto lo enseñará a hacerme su marioneta del trabajo!" Insano Mano said.
"Aw, man. We're in script mode. I can't get a translation of that!" Ken said, sounding disappointed. "Where are we going?"
Soem Guy didn't look at Ken. Instead, he pointed up ahead at the dark road. Then, a sign came into focus: Sin City, 666 Miles. With a sudden jolt, the brakes and tires squealed out as if they were being slowly jabbed in the abdomen with a hot butter knife. And, I guess, also assuming brakes have abdomens? Boy oh boy, do we need a real script writer who doesn't mix metaphors in a blender. I'm so out of practice at this.
Once the car jerked to a halt, Soem Guy In A Mask, apparently a man of no words, unbuckled his seat belt and exited the vehicle. Ken and Mano followed suit. All three headed to the back of the van. Soem Guy opened the back door and led the other two masked men inside the van.
A few moments later, there was a thud of sports entertainer hitting the ground. A few moments later, there was the fainter thud of a cruiserweight hitting the ground. The three men exited the van. Soem Guy In A Mask pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Insano Mano to read.
"Steve Studnuts. Seth Harker," Insano Mano began. "Dos fuera de la caída tres. Somos la caída del hombre. Sus crímenes no han ido inadvertidos. Esa manera es ciudad del pecado. Véale en MEGABRAWL."
Ken scratched his head. "We're eating veal at MegaBrawl?"
That was when a cactus tipped over on Ken.
"Ow. Little help?"
Soem Guy In A Mask ripped the hood of Seth Harker's face. He wasn't moving. Then the hood was removed from Steve Studnuts' head. Also still unconscious.
"Mano!" Ken suddenly shouted.
"¿Que?" Mano replied.
"Get the rakes!"
"¿Por qué? ¿Porque soy el mexicano?"
"Um....yes?"
Mano headed into the van and retrieved two wooden rakes. One was dropped on Harker, the other on Studnuts.
Ken looked down at the fallen members of the iAd, and picking cactus pricks out of his flesh. "It's always autumn."
Soem Guy In A Mask shut the rear door. On the back was a Connecticut plate with the tag of PRO 469. The three masked men returned to their vehicle, leaving Steve Studnuts and Seth Harker, not in the middle of Nowhere, but deep in the middle of...Soemwhere.
Population two.
"Turn the heat up," Kamikazie Ken said to the driver.
The driver, Soem Guy In A Mask, merely glared at Ken with an iciness to his gaze that made Ken's complaints melt like an Alaskan glacier due to global warming, unless that's all an elaborate political hoax.
"Sorry, boss," Ken humbly replied.
"Es Harker. Él lo está haciendo fresco adentro aquí. ¡Pero esto lo enseñará a hacerme su marioneta del trabajo!" Insano Mano said.
"Aw, man. We're in script mode. I can't get a translation of that!" Ken said, sounding disappointed. "Where are we going?"
Soem Guy didn't look at Ken. Instead, he pointed up ahead at the dark road. Then, a sign came into focus: Sin City, 666 Miles. With a sudden jolt, the brakes and tires squealed out as if they were being slowly jabbed in the abdomen with a hot butter knife. And, I guess, also assuming brakes have abdomens? Boy oh boy, do we need a real script writer who doesn't mix metaphors in a blender. I'm so out of practice at this.
Once the car jerked to a halt, Soem Guy In A Mask, apparently a man of no words, unbuckled his seat belt and exited the vehicle. Ken and Mano followed suit. All three headed to the back of the van. Soem Guy opened the back door and led the other two masked men inside the van.
A few moments later, there was a thud of sports entertainer hitting the ground. A few moments later, there was the fainter thud of a cruiserweight hitting the ground. The three men exited the van. Soem Guy In A Mask pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Insano Mano to read.
"Steve Studnuts. Seth Harker," Insano Mano began. "Dos fuera de la caída tres. Somos la caída del hombre. Sus crímenes no han ido inadvertidos. Esa manera es ciudad del pecado. Véale en MEGABRAWL."
Ken scratched his head. "We're eating veal at MegaBrawl?"
That was when a cactus tipped over on Ken.
"Ow. Little help?"
Soem Guy In A Mask ripped the hood of Seth Harker's face. He wasn't moving. Then the hood was removed from Steve Studnuts' head. Also still unconscious.
"Mano!" Ken suddenly shouted.
"¿Que?" Mano replied.
"Get the rakes!"
"¿Por qué? ¿Porque soy el mexicano?"
"Um....yes?"
Mano headed into the van and retrieved two wooden rakes. One was dropped on Harker, the other on Studnuts.
Ken looked down at the fallen members of the iAd, and picking cactus pricks out of his flesh. "It's always autumn."
Soem Guy In A Mask shut the rear door. On the back was a Connecticut plate with the tag of PRO 469. The three masked men returned to their vehicle, leaving Steve Studnuts and Seth Harker, not in the middle of Nowhere, but deep in the middle of...Soemwhere.
Population two.