Katgut
Post Out Of Order
Posts: 674
Registered: 05-01 |
For once in your long and checkered career, first in the Marines and then in the Space Defense, you've finally found time to rest. No fireball-spitting spiked bastards in sight. No walking mouths with horns. No floating heads. Just you, yourself, and Jack Daniels.
Then your view starts shimmering and you find yourself staring straight at the ugliest sight you've seen in ten years. Resembling a pile of sewage almost seven feet high and six feet wide, your first thought upon seeing it is, "Damnit. Time to lay off the sauce." Then it starts sending you... well, not information, exactly, but not quite speech, either.
After three minutes, the flow stops and you find yourself and your recliner sitting roughly six hundred feet up, unsupported by anything. "Damn that trash-heap!" you say to yourself. Looks like you're not going to get to rest from battling Hell. Looks like they want you to come back and fight again.
Looks like they're damn stupid.
(more later)
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06-13-01 16:51 
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