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Hero
Peril gripped the world as order and chaos walked hand in hand. The tumbling stock markets were followed in kind by governments and soon worldwide looting and disarray took hold. Amidst the carnage and confusion the New World Order began to step forth to seize power. So dastardly and evil were their plans that none of the surviving governments, namely Switzerland had the power to combat them. What the World needed was a Hero.
In downtown Los Angeles a group of bank robbers charged out of a bank, gripping bags of loot, and leapt into a car. The engine coughed and died, and the puzzlement on their faces soon turned to dread as they realised the longer they waited, the less likely it is any of them would get away. A bulky man got out of the car, followed by a shorter, tanned, gang member. As the first man covered the entrance to the bank, occasionally glancing to the street, the second raced up to the bonnet and began to work on the cars engine. Little did they know concealed at the rear of the car, inside the exhaust pipe was a simple potato.
“Come on Shortie, we need to get outta here!” came a shout from inside the car. Shortie worked faster, and a realisation spread across his face like butter across warm delicious toast. He’d seen this before in 101 Dalmatians. Heading to the rear of the car he discovered the potato, removed it and hurriedly they returned to the car. Just before the door closed a little poof of smoke came from a nearby alley, launching a tear gas canister into the vehicle. After a few seconds the crew leapt out of the car and lay on the ground, choking, their hands on their heads as fumes poured out of the car. Inside the alley a shadowy figure retreated from sight.
On the third floor of a deserted tenement, a radio chirped one of the few remaining news reports available.
“The Los Angeles Militia, with the aid of an unidentified source, foiled an attempted bank robbery early this afternoon. The LAM believe the source to be the mysterious renegade only known as “Lauren”. This means that crime has been reduced 70% since the appearance of Lauren in the Los Angeles area. When questioned by reporters as to why this figure was named “Lauren” official replied “We just ran out of names for vigilantes.”. In other news…”
Click. The radio became silent and a somewhat pleased Lauren slid naked into a bath of icy water, one of the few pleasures of her day. The 4 foot emperor penguin relaxed and stretched out in the oversized bath. As the water enveloped her, she forgot all of her troubles, and returned from her suffocating alter ego. Waddles squawked happily, devouring a defenceless herring from the bath. The icy water absorbed all the heat, the pain and the death she’d caused and let her cleanse, spiritually as well as physically. As time passed Waddles slowly drifted off to sleep, happily, without a care in the world.
Laurens world was shaken abruptly as the door to the room crashed open and several armed men charged into the room. The New World Order had discovered her. What followed, much to the confusion of the grunts, was an incomprehensible flurry of bullets, knives and flippers, and living proof than penguins can fly. Lauren glanced down at the bodies of her foes. “So unclean”, she thought to herself. Shouts from outside signalled to her that more were on the way. A fierce battle ensued and a small black figure raced from the building in a hail of bullets and disappeared into the streets.
Lauren can never sleep again. Waddles can be no more. Always looking back, yet always forward. Always running. Always fighting. Always herring. Cheap cigarette smoke and booze, blistering heat, and parched skin. Distant dreams, so distant they aren’t visible. An iceberg? What’s that? If its not on my tail I don’t care. The NWO must be stopped, and nobody else can do it. Nobody suspects something cute. They never suspect the penguin.
Peril gripped the world as order and chaos walked hand in hand. The tumbling stock markets were followed in kind by governments and soon worldwide looting and disarray took hold. Amidst the carnage and confusion the New World Order began to step forth to seize power. So dastardly and evil were their plans that none of the surviving governments, namely Switzerland had the power to combat them. What the World needed was a Hero.
In downtown Los Angeles a group of bank robbers charged out of a bank, gripping bags of loot, and leapt into a car. The engine coughed and died, and the puzzlement on their faces soon turned to dread as they realised the longer they waited, the less likely it is any of them would get away. A bulky man got out of the car, followed by a shorter, tanned, gang member. As the first man covered the entrance to the bank, occasionally glancing to the street, the second raced up to the bonnet and began to work on the cars engine. Little did they know concealed at the rear of the car, inside the exhaust pipe was a simple potato.
“Come on Shortie, we need to get outta here!” came a shout from inside the car. Shortie worked faster, and a realisation spread across his face like butter across warm delicious toast. He’d seen this before in 101 Dalmatians. Heading to the rear of the car he discovered the potato, removed it and hurriedly they returned to the car. Just before the door closed a little poof of smoke came from a nearby alley, launching a tear gas canister into the vehicle. After a few seconds the crew leapt out of the car and lay on the ground, choking, their hands on their heads as fumes poured out of the car. Inside the alley a shadowy figure retreated from sight.
On the third floor of a deserted tenement, a radio chirped one of the few remaining news reports available.
“The Los Angeles Militia, with the aid of an unidentified source, foiled an attempted bank robbery early this afternoon. The LAM believe the source to be the mysterious renegade only known as “Lauren”. This means that crime has been reduced 70% since the appearance of Lauren in the Los Angeles area. When questioned by reporters as to why this figure was named “Lauren” official replied “We just ran out of names for vigilantes.”. In other news…”
Click. The radio became silent and a somewhat pleased Lauren slid naked into a bath of icy water, one of the few pleasures of her day. The 4 foot emperor penguin relaxed and stretched out in the oversized bath. As the water enveloped her, she forgot all of her troubles, and returned from her suffocating alter ego. Waddles squawked happily, devouring a defenceless herring from the bath. The icy water absorbed all the heat, the pain and the death she’d caused and let her cleanse, spiritually as well as physically. As time passed Waddles slowly drifted off to sleep, happily, without a care in the world.
Laurens world was shaken abruptly as the door to the room crashed open and several armed men charged into the room. The New World Order had discovered her. What followed, much to the confusion of the grunts, was an incomprehensible flurry of bullets, knives and flippers, and living proof than penguins can fly. Lauren glanced down at the bodies of her foes. “So unclean”, she thought to herself. Shouts from outside signalled to her that more were on the way. A fierce battle ensued and a small black figure raced from the building in a hail of bullets and disappeared into the streets.
Lauren can never sleep again. Waddles can be no more. Always looking back, yet always forward. Always running. Always fighting. Always herring. Cheap cigarette smoke and booze, blistering heat, and parched skin. Distant dreams, so distant they aren’t visible. An iceberg? What’s that? If its not on my tail I don’t care. The NWO must be stopped, and nobody else can do it. Nobody suspects something cute. They never suspect the penguin.
Heh, I stole the New World Order from a game. I couldn't think of any good acronyms. Fluf, plop, pink, nothing would work.
Hero
Peril gripped the world as order and chaos walked hand in hand. The tumbling stock markets were followed in kind by governments and soon worldwide looting and disarray took hold. Amidst the carnage and confusion the New World Order began to step forth to seize power. So dastardly and evil were their plans that none of the surviving governments, namely Switzerland had the power to combat them. What the World needed was a Hero.
In downtown Los Angeles a group of bank robbers charged out of a bank, gripping bags of loot, and leapt into a car. The engine coughed and died, and the puzzlement on their faces soon turned to dread as they realised the longer they waited, the less likely it is any of them would get away. A bulky man got out of the car, followed by a shorter, tanned, gang member. As the first man covered the entrance to the bank, occasionally glancing to the street, the second raced up to the bonnet and began to work on the cars engine. Little did they know concealed at the rear of the car, inside the exhaust pipe was a simple potato.
“Come on Shortie, we need to get outta here!” came a shout from inside the car. Shortie worked faster, and a realisation spread across his face like butter across warm delicious toast. He’d seen this before in 101 Dalmatians. Heading to the rear of the car he discovered the potato, removed it and hurriedly they returned to the car. Just before the door closed a little poof of smoke came from a nearby alley, launching a tear gas canister into the vehicle. After a few seconds the crew leapt out of the car and lay on the ground, choking, their hands on their heads as fumes poured out of the car. Inside the alley a shadowy figure retreated from sight.
On the third floor of a deserted tenement, a radio chirped one of the few remaining news reports available.
“The Los Angeles Militia, with the aid of an unidentified source, foiled an attempted bank robbery early this afternoon. The LAM believe the source to be the mysterious renegade only known as “Lauren”. This means that crime has been reduced 70% since the appearance of Lauren in the Los Angeles area. When questioned by reporters as to why this figure was named “Lauren” official replied “We just ran out of names for vigilantes.”. In other news…”
Click. The radio became silent and a somewhat pleased Lauren slid naked into a bath of icy water, one of the few pleasures of her day. The 4 foot emperor penguin relaxed and stretched out in the oversized bath. As the water enveloped her, she forgot all of her troubles, and returned from her suffocating alter ego. Waddles squawked happily, devouring a defenceless herring from the bath. The icy water absorbed all the heat, the pain and the death she’d caused and let her cleanse, spiritually as well as physically. As time passed Waddles slowly drifted off to sleep, happily, without a care in the world.
Laurens world was shaken abruptly as the door to the room crashed open and several armed men charged into the room. The New World Order had discovered her. What followed, much to the confusion of the grunts, was an incomprehensible flurry of bullets, knives and flippers, and living proof than penguins can fly. Lauren glanced down at the bodies of her foes. “So unclean”, she thought to herself. Shouts from outside signalled to her that more were on the way. A fierce battle ensued and a small black figure raced from the building in a hail of bullets and disappeared into the streets.
Lauren can never sleep again. Waddles can be no more. Always looking back, yet always forward. Always running. Always fighting. Always herring. Cheap cigarette smoke and booze, blistering heat, and parched skin. Distant dreams, so distant they aren’t visible. An iceberg? What’s that? If its not on my tail I don’t care. The NWO must be stopped, and nobody else can do it. Nobody suspects something cute. They never suspect the penguin.
Peril gripped the world as order and chaos walked hand in hand. The tumbling stock markets were followed in kind by governments and soon worldwide looting and disarray took hold. Amidst the carnage and confusion the New World Order began to step forth to seize power. So dastardly and evil were their plans that none of the surviving governments, namely Switzerland had the power to combat them. What the World needed was a Hero.
In downtown Los Angeles a group of bank robbers charged out of a bank, gripping bags of loot, and leapt into a car. The engine coughed and died, and the puzzlement on their faces soon turned to dread as they realised the longer they waited, the less likely it is any of them would get away. A bulky man got out of the car, followed by a shorter, tanned, gang member. As the first man covered the entrance to the bank, occasionally glancing to the street, the second raced up to the bonnet and began to work on the cars engine. Little did they know concealed at the rear of the car, inside the exhaust pipe was a simple potato.
“Come on Shortie, we need to get outta here!” came a shout from inside the car. Shortie worked faster, and a realisation spread across his face like butter across warm delicious toast. He’d seen this before in 101 Dalmatians. Heading to the rear of the car he discovered the potato, removed it and hurriedly they returned to the car. Just before the door closed a little poof of smoke came from a nearby alley, launching a tear gas canister into the vehicle. After a few seconds the crew leapt out of the car and lay on the ground, choking, their hands on their heads as fumes poured out of the car. Inside the alley a shadowy figure retreated from sight.
On the third floor of a deserted tenement, a radio chirped one of the few remaining news reports available.
“The Los Angeles Militia, with the aid of an unidentified source, foiled an attempted bank robbery early this afternoon. The LAM believe the source to be the mysterious renegade only known as “Lauren”. This means that crime has been reduced 70% since the appearance of Lauren in the Los Angeles area. When questioned by reporters as to why this figure was named “Lauren” official replied “We just ran out of names for vigilantes.”. In other news…”
Click. The radio became silent and a somewhat pleased Lauren slid naked into a bath of icy water, one of the few pleasures of her day. The 4 foot emperor penguin relaxed and stretched out in the oversized bath. As the water enveloped her, she forgot all of her troubles, and returned from her suffocating alter ego. Waddles squawked happily, devouring a defenceless herring from the bath. The icy water absorbed all the heat, the pain and the death she’d caused and let her cleanse, spiritually as well as physically. As time passed Waddles slowly drifted off to sleep, happily, without a care in the world.
Laurens world was shaken abruptly as the door to the room crashed open and several armed men charged into the room. The New World Order had discovered her. What followed, much to the confusion of the grunts, was an incomprehensible flurry of bullets, knives and flippers, and living proof than penguins can fly. Lauren glanced down at the bodies of her foes. “So unclean”, she thought to herself. Shouts from outside signalled to her that more were on the way. A fierce battle ensued and a small black figure raced from the building in a hail of bullets and disappeared into the streets.
Lauren can never sleep again. Waddles can be no more. Always looking back, yet always forward. Always running. Always fighting. Always herring. Cheap cigarette smoke and booze, blistering heat, and parched skin. Distant dreams, so distant they aren’t visible. An iceberg? What’s that? If its not on my tail I don’t care. The NWO must be stopped, and nobody else can do it. Nobody suspects something cute. They never suspect the penguin.