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Next Rasta Skank adventure. I thought I'd be more respectful, as he is now a notable, but then I remembered I ripped it out of Grix in the last one ;-).
RASTA SKANK: RAIDERS OF THE LOST X
(Two years have passed since the reclaiming of the Cube. Now Rasta Skank is a programmer of Nintendo Europe.)
**
“ Rasta!”
The call echoed across the busy room.
“ I’m busy!” he yelled back. Well, he was. He needed to complete this level. Rasta’s Mansion was proving a huge success.
“ RASTA! IT’S CRUCIAL!” Grix yelled again. Rasta sighed an put down his controller. He walked slowly across the room to where the Head of Programming sat, a silly grin on his face.
“ Grix, what is it? A new quest?” asked Rasta.
“ Oh yes, a quest, that too, BUT I’m stuck on this level. That’s far more important.”
Rasta sighed and leant down.
“ You have to press jump there, boss.”
“ Ah yes! I see it now!” cried Grix.
“ Yes, you have to have your wits about you when playing….. Super Mario World on the SNES.”
Grix coughed suddenly and stood up. He made his way into the office, falling over only twice. When the door had slammed shut and Grix had put on his hat, they sat down.
“ Now, Rasta, I have had word that Sony have a secret lab, deep in the Congo. I need you to go in and find it.”
” Why the hell is it in deepest Congo? You want a lab to have good results, you put it near power, or civilisation. Sometimes Grix, I think you make up these clichés.”
Grix smiled sheepishly. “ OK, fine, it’s not in deepest Congo. It is, in fact, on the outskirts of Congo, near the local McDonalds.”
Rasta nodded.
“ What’s in there? You do have other people for this. I’m on recovery of gaming artefacts, remember?”
“ Oh yes! So you are! But his file is all the way down near the bottom of the cabinet, and yours was on my desk!” Grix leant back in his chair, confident.
“ Fine. But I’ll need back-up.”
“ Yes!” Grix screwed his eyes up and furrowed his forehead. “ Mr Skank, your team has been assembled. Your usual back-up, Agent ‘Vottanator’, real name unknown, location – my guest room. The wife’s cooking lasagne. Anyway, your technican, Agent ‘Ant’ , real name…. Ant” Grix shrugged. “ location – Skegness.” Rasta grimaced. “ And finally, your Sony expert, Agent ‘Firebalt’, real name Bobajob. Location – Congo. He’s infiltrated it as a big fat congowoman.”
Rasta stood up, and pulled open a drawer. His Colt45 was inside. He holstered it and took the file Grix offered.
“ This message will self destruct in thousands of years.” Said Grix, concentrating.
“ What?” exclaimed Rasta.
“ You see? Like Mission Impossible? It’ll biodegrade? Thousands of years?” Grix was practically bouncing with excitement. Rasta sighed, and strolled out of the door, whistling. Grix smiled, and leant back. Then he toppled over and crashed to the ground.
**
Rasta leant back in the plane, as it flew towards the Congo. Vottanator sat opposite him, eyes furrowed in concentration. Rasta debated the possibilities, and acted.
“ Check.”
They were playing Ninty Chess. Rasta prodded his Bishop, cunningly crafted as a Zelda. It tossed its hair moodily, and floated across the board to check the Mario that stood at Vottanators end.
“ What you going to do? The tension!” said Rasta, cheerily.
“ Shut up.”
Vottanator prodded his Castle, which was an exact replica of Princess Toadstool’s. In charged up the board, then fired a couple of fireballs at the Bishop. Zelda shrieked and ran around in circles as her dress caught on fie. The Castle smirked for a bit, then clubbed her over the head. It grunted, and threw her at Rasta.
“ D’you think this game is a bit violent?” asked Rasta.
“ Shut up.”
Then Ant strolled down the walkway.
“ Aren’t you supposed to be flying the plane?” asked Rasta, worriedly.
“ Don’t worry! I’ve rigged up a super system whereby excess cheese is funnelled into a generator that flies the plane! Sometimes I amaze myself!”
“ He takes after his brother.” Muttered Vottanator.
“ Hey! Grix is completely different to me, Votty!” Ant yelled, swinging his arms about. He proceeded to fall backwards over a seat.
“ Don’t call me that.” Grunted Vottanator. “ Check mate.”
“ WHAT?” yelled Rasta. “ That is not check mate!”
Vottanator got up and walked away, while his players ganged up on Rasta’s Mario.
“ Hey! A-Rasta! A-help me!” But all Rasta could do was grunt as Vottanator’s Castle, which was obviously vindictive, hammered the Mario with a few bricks.
**
RASTA SKANK: RAIDERS OF THE LOST X
(Two years have passed since the reclaiming of the Cube. Now Rasta Skank is a programmer of Nintendo Europe.)
**
“ Rasta!”
The call echoed across the busy room.
“ I’m busy!” he yelled back. Well, he was. He needed to complete this level. Rasta’s Mansion was proving a huge success.
“ RASTA! IT’S CRUCIAL!” Grix yelled again. Rasta sighed an put down his controller. He walked slowly across the room to where the Head of Programming sat, a silly grin on his face.
“ Grix, what is it? A new quest?” asked Rasta.
“ Oh yes, a quest, that too, BUT I’m stuck on this level. That’s far more important.”
Rasta sighed and leant down.
“ You have to press jump there, boss.”
“ Ah yes! I see it now!” cried Grix.
“ Yes, you have to have your wits about you when playing….. Super Mario World on the SNES.”
Grix coughed suddenly and stood up. He made his way into the office, falling over only twice. When the door had slammed shut and Grix had put on his hat, they sat down.
“ Now, Rasta, I have had word that Sony have a secret lab, deep in the Congo. I need you to go in and find it.”
” Why the hell is it in deepest Congo? You want a lab to have good results, you put it near power, or civilisation. Sometimes Grix, I think you make up these clichés.”
Grix smiled sheepishly. “ OK, fine, it’s not in deepest Congo. It is, in fact, on the outskirts of Congo, near the local McDonalds.”
Rasta nodded.
“ What’s in there? You do have other people for this. I’m on recovery of gaming artefacts, remember?”
“ Oh yes! So you are! But his file is all the way down near the bottom of the cabinet, and yours was on my desk!” Grix leant back in his chair, confident.
“ Fine. But I’ll need back-up.”
“ Yes!” Grix screwed his eyes up and furrowed his forehead. “ Mr Skank, your team has been assembled. Your usual back-up, Agent ‘Vottanator’, real name unknown, location – my guest room. The wife’s cooking lasagne. Anyway, your technican, Agent ‘Ant’ , real name…. Ant” Grix shrugged. “ location – Skegness.” Rasta grimaced. “ And finally, your Sony expert, Agent ‘Firebalt’, real name Bobajob. Location – Congo. He’s infiltrated it as a big fat congowoman.”
Rasta stood up, and pulled open a drawer. His Colt45 was inside. He holstered it and took the file Grix offered.
“ This message will self destruct in thousands of years.” Said Grix, concentrating.
“ What?” exclaimed Rasta.
“ You see? Like Mission Impossible? It’ll biodegrade? Thousands of years?” Grix was practically bouncing with excitement. Rasta sighed, and strolled out of the door, whistling. Grix smiled, and leant back. Then he toppled over and crashed to the ground.
**
Rasta leant back in the plane, as it flew towards the Congo. Vottanator sat opposite him, eyes furrowed in concentration. Rasta debated the possibilities, and acted.
“ Check.”
They were playing Ninty Chess. Rasta prodded his Bishop, cunningly crafted as a Zelda. It tossed its hair moodily, and floated across the board to check the Mario that stood at Vottanators end.
“ What you going to do? The tension!” said Rasta, cheerily.
“ Shut up.”
Vottanator prodded his Castle, which was an exact replica of Princess Toadstool’s. In charged up the board, then fired a couple of fireballs at the Bishop. Zelda shrieked and ran around in circles as her dress caught on fie. The Castle smirked for a bit, then clubbed her over the head. It grunted, and threw her at Rasta.
“ D’you think this game is a bit violent?” asked Rasta.
“ Shut up.”
Then Ant strolled down the walkway.
“ Aren’t you supposed to be flying the plane?” asked Rasta, worriedly.
“ Don’t worry! I’ve rigged up a super system whereby excess cheese is funnelled into a generator that flies the plane! Sometimes I amaze myself!”
“ He takes after his brother.” Muttered Vottanator.
“ Hey! Grix is completely different to me, Votty!” Ant yelled, swinging his arms about. He proceeded to fall backwards over a seat.
“ Don’t call me that.” Grunted Vottanator. “ Check mate.”
“ WHAT?” yelled Rasta. “ That is not check mate!”
Vottanator got up and walked away, while his players ganged up on Rasta’s Mario.
“ Hey! A-Rasta! A-help me!” But all Rasta could do was grunt as Vottanator’s Castle, which was obviously vindictive, hammered the Mario with a few bricks.
**
Page:
Next Rasta Skank adventure. I thought I'd be more respectful, as he is now a notable, but then I remembered I ripped it out of Grix in the last one ;-).
RASTA SKANK: RAIDERS OF THE LOST X
(Two years have passed since the reclaiming of the Cube. Now Rasta Skank is a programmer of Nintendo Europe.)
**
“ Rasta!”
The call echoed across the busy room.
“ I’m busy!” he yelled back. Well, he was. He needed to complete this level. Rasta’s Mansion was proving a huge success.
“ RASTA! IT’S CRUCIAL!” Grix yelled again. Rasta sighed an put down his controller. He walked slowly across the room to where the Head of Programming sat, a silly grin on his face.
“ Grix, what is it? A new quest?” asked Rasta.
“ Oh yes, a quest, that too, BUT I’m stuck on this level. That’s far more important.”
Rasta sighed and leant down.
“ You have to press jump there, boss.”
“ Ah yes! I see it now!” cried Grix.
“ Yes, you have to have your wits about you when playing….. Super Mario World on the SNES.”
Grix coughed suddenly and stood up. He made his way into the office, falling over only twice. When the door had slammed shut and Grix had put on his hat, they sat down.
“ Now, Rasta, I have had word that Sony have a secret lab, deep in the Congo. I need you to go in and find it.”
” Why the hell is it in deepest Congo? You want a lab to have good results, you put it near power, or civilisation. Sometimes Grix, I think you make up these clichés.”
Grix smiled sheepishly. “ OK, fine, it’s not in deepest Congo. It is, in fact, on the outskirts of Congo, near the local McDonalds.”
Rasta nodded.
“ What’s in there? You do have other people for this. I’m on recovery of gaming artefacts, remember?”
“ Oh yes! So you are! But his file is all the way down near the bottom of the cabinet, and yours was on my desk!” Grix leant back in his chair, confident.
“ Fine. But I’ll need back-up.”
“ Yes!” Grix screwed his eyes up and furrowed his forehead. “ Mr Skank, your team has been assembled. Your usual back-up, Agent ‘Vottanator’, real name unknown, location – my guest room. The wife’s cooking lasagne. Anyway, your technican, Agent ‘Ant’ , real name…. Ant” Grix shrugged. “ location – Skegness.” Rasta grimaced. “ And finally, your Sony expert, Agent ‘Firebalt’, real name Bobajob. Location – Congo. He’s infiltrated it as a big fat congowoman.”
Rasta stood up, and pulled open a drawer. His Colt45 was inside. He holstered it and took the file Grix offered.
“ This message will self destruct in thousands of years.” Said Grix, concentrating.
“ What?” exclaimed Rasta.
“ You see? Like Mission Impossible? It’ll biodegrade? Thousands of years?” Grix was practically bouncing with excitement. Rasta sighed, and strolled out of the door, whistling. Grix smiled, and leant back. Then he toppled over and crashed to the ground.
**
Rasta leant back in the plane, as it flew towards the Congo. Vottanator sat opposite him, eyes furrowed in concentration. Rasta debated the possibilities, and acted.
“ Check.”
They were playing Ninty Chess. Rasta prodded his Bishop, cunningly crafted as a Zelda. It tossed its hair moodily, and floated across the board to check the Mario that stood at Vottanators end.
“ What you going to do? The tension!” said Rasta, cheerily.
“ Shut up.”
Vottanator prodded his Castle, which was an exact replica of Princess Toadstool’s. In charged up the board, then fired a couple of fireballs at the Bishop. Zelda shrieked and ran around in circles as her dress caught on fie. The Castle smirked for a bit, then clubbed her over the head. It grunted, and threw her at Rasta.
“ D’you think this game is a bit violent?” asked Rasta.
“ Shut up.”
Then Ant strolled down the walkway.
“ Aren’t you supposed to be flying the plane?” asked Rasta, worriedly.
“ Don’t worry! I’ve rigged up a super system whereby excess cheese is funnelled into a generator that flies the plane! Sometimes I amaze myself!”
“ He takes after his brother.” Muttered Vottanator.
“ Hey! Grix is completely different to me, Votty!” Ant yelled, swinging his arms about. He proceeded to fall backwards over a seat.
“ Don’t call me that.” Grunted Vottanator. “ Check mate.”
“ WHAT?” yelled Rasta. “ That is not check mate!”
Vottanator got up and walked away, while his players ganged up on Rasta’s Mario.
“ Hey! A-Rasta! A-help me!” But all Rasta could do was grunt as Vottanator’s Castle, which was obviously vindictive, hammered the Mario with a few bricks.
**
RASTA SKANK: RAIDERS OF THE LOST X
(Two years have passed since the reclaiming of the Cube. Now Rasta Skank is a programmer of Nintendo Europe.)
**
“ Rasta!”
The call echoed across the busy room.
“ I’m busy!” he yelled back. Well, he was. He needed to complete this level. Rasta’s Mansion was proving a huge success.
“ RASTA! IT’S CRUCIAL!” Grix yelled again. Rasta sighed an put down his controller. He walked slowly across the room to where the Head of Programming sat, a silly grin on his face.
“ Grix, what is it? A new quest?” asked Rasta.
“ Oh yes, a quest, that too, BUT I’m stuck on this level. That’s far more important.”
Rasta sighed and leant down.
“ You have to press jump there, boss.”
“ Ah yes! I see it now!” cried Grix.
“ Yes, you have to have your wits about you when playing….. Super Mario World on the SNES.”
Grix coughed suddenly and stood up. He made his way into the office, falling over only twice. When the door had slammed shut and Grix had put on his hat, they sat down.
“ Now, Rasta, I have had word that Sony have a secret lab, deep in the Congo. I need you to go in and find it.”
” Why the hell is it in deepest Congo? You want a lab to have good results, you put it near power, or civilisation. Sometimes Grix, I think you make up these clichés.”
Grix smiled sheepishly. “ OK, fine, it’s not in deepest Congo. It is, in fact, on the outskirts of Congo, near the local McDonalds.”
Rasta nodded.
“ What’s in there? You do have other people for this. I’m on recovery of gaming artefacts, remember?”
“ Oh yes! So you are! But his file is all the way down near the bottom of the cabinet, and yours was on my desk!” Grix leant back in his chair, confident.
“ Fine. But I’ll need back-up.”
“ Yes!” Grix screwed his eyes up and furrowed his forehead. “ Mr Skank, your team has been assembled. Your usual back-up, Agent ‘Vottanator’, real name unknown, location – my guest room. The wife’s cooking lasagne. Anyway, your technican, Agent ‘Ant’ , real name…. Ant” Grix shrugged. “ location – Skegness.” Rasta grimaced. “ And finally, your Sony expert, Agent ‘Firebalt’, real name Bobajob. Location – Congo. He’s infiltrated it as a big fat congowoman.”
Rasta stood up, and pulled open a drawer. His Colt45 was inside. He holstered it and took the file Grix offered.
“ This message will self destruct in thousands of years.” Said Grix, concentrating.
“ What?” exclaimed Rasta.
“ You see? Like Mission Impossible? It’ll biodegrade? Thousands of years?” Grix was practically bouncing with excitement. Rasta sighed, and strolled out of the door, whistling. Grix smiled, and leant back. Then he toppled over and crashed to the ground.
**
Rasta leant back in the plane, as it flew towards the Congo. Vottanator sat opposite him, eyes furrowed in concentration. Rasta debated the possibilities, and acted.
“ Check.”
They were playing Ninty Chess. Rasta prodded his Bishop, cunningly crafted as a Zelda. It tossed its hair moodily, and floated across the board to check the Mario that stood at Vottanators end.
“ What you going to do? The tension!” said Rasta, cheerily.
“ Shut up.”
Vottanator prodded his Castle, which was an exact replica of Princess Toadstool’s. In charged up the board, then fired a couple of fireballs at the Bishop. Zelda shrieked and ran around in circles as her dress caught on fie. The Castle smirked for a bit, then clubbed her over the head. It grunted, and threw her at Rasta.
“ D’you think this game is a bit violent?” asked Rasta.
“ Shut up.”
Then Ant strolled down the walkway.
“ Aren’t you supposed to be flying the plane?” asked Rasta, worriedly.
“ Don’t worry! I’ve rigged up a super system whereby excess cheese is funnelled into a generator that flies the plane! Sometimes I amaze myself!”
“ He takes after his brother.” Muttered Vottanator.
“ Hey! Grix is completely different to me, Votty!” Ant yelled, swinging his arms about. He proceeded to fall backwards over a seat.
“ Don’t call me that.” Grunted Vottanator. “ Check mate.”
“ WHAT?” yelled Rasta. “ That is not check mate!”
Vottanator got up and walked away, while his players ganged up on Rasta’s Mario.
“ Hey! A-Rasta! A-help me!” But all Rasta could do was grunt as Vottanator’s Castle, which was obviously vindictive, hammered the Mario with a few bricks.
**
"And finally, your Sony expert, Agent ‘Firebalt’, real name Bobajob. Location – Congo. He’s infiltrated it as a big fat congowoman."
Now, that is classic writing. Excellent continuation of a great story Stryke. I look foward to seeing the next part. Will we be actually go to the Lost X in the next chapter or is that later. Cheers and keep up the great work Gaz.
Firebalt.
Now, that is classic writing. Excellent continuation of a great story Stryke. I look foward to seeing the next part. Will we be actually go to the Lost X in the next chapter or is that later. Cheers and keep up the great work Gaz.
Firebalt.
“ Approaching Congo!” said Ant, now extremely excited. Vottanator grabbed his gun, holstered it, and belted in. Rasta was still grumbling.
“ You cheated.”
“ Shut up.”
“ LANDING IN CONGO!” screamed Ant.
“ Ant, we’re right next to you. Be quiet.”
“ RUNWAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Ant yelled in excitement.
“ Ant, we’ve stopped.”
Vottanator and Rasta emerged into the humid air of the Congo, nervously.
“ I’m coming laaaaaaaaaaaaaaads!” yelled Ant, and leapt out of the aeroplane. He rolled over and over on the asphalt of the runway.
“ We here then, Votty?”
“ Don’t call me that.”
“ We’d better go after the Sony buildings.” Said Rasta.
“ Agreed. We have to meet Firebalt at the McDonalds.” Vottanator shrugged as Rasta looked at him. “ He chose it!”
They walked off purposely.
“ ANT! There’ll be chicken!” yelled Rasta.
“ Mm, chicken!” Ant bounded to his feet and ran after them.
**
“ Welcome to de Congo!” A massive woman greeted them as they strolled into McDonalds. “ I shall be your host in this most cultural of restaurants.”
“ Get me your biggest pile of grease!” proclaimed Rasta.
“ ONE BIG MAC!” she yelled.
“ Chicken!” said Ant, to no-one in particular.
“ We serve no chicken here.” She beamed. “ Only kidding! And for you sir?” She leant towards Vottanator.
“ Shut up.”
Rasta leant in closer, to whisper in her ear. “ Don’t mind him. It’s that time of the month.” He winked, and sat at a table. Vottanator grumbled, and Ant went off to play with the giant Lego bricks in the Toy Corner. When the chicken arrived, he bounded over, and then tried to hit on the woman.
“ Hello, gorgeous.” He winked at her.
“ Ant, you idiot. It’s Firebalt, our contact.” Sighed Vottanator.
“ I knew that!” said Ant, but he nabbed his McNuggets and ran back to the playpen. Firebalt sat down.
“ So when Grix said you were disguised as a Congowoman, he meant it?” Said Rasta, in shock.
“ Ya mon!” said Firebalt.
“ Shut up, and drop the accent.” Said Vottanator.
“ Sorry, old boy. Thought it was needed. To keep up the old pretence, you know?” said Firebalt, taking off the fruitbowl he wore on his head.
“ This is Firebalt, from the De Campry family of Essex. This is Rasta. He’s a Skank.”
“ Oh, the Skanks of Cornwall Duchy?”
“ No.”
“ Then the Von Skanks of Prussia?”
“ Sorry.”
“ The O’Skanks of the Cork Region?!”
“ No. The Skanks of everywhere, really.”
Firebalt sat back, mystified.
“ Right, on with the case. We’ll enter through here.” Firebalt smoothed out some paper.
“ You sure this is the right piece of paper?” Firebalt looked down. It was a copy of the Sun, on Page 3. He went red, and threw it away.
“ What exactly did you mean, we’ll enter through here?” asked Rasta, laughing.
“ Shut up. This is the real map. As you see, there’s a panel here. If Ant can cut the alarm, we should be into the control room in no time.”
“ This is putting an awful lot of pressure on Ant.” Suggested Rasta.
They all looked round at Ant, who was building a house with Lego.
“ I think he can take it.” Said Vottanator.
**
“ You cheated.”
“ Shut up.”
“ LANDING IN CONGO!” screamed Ant.
“ Ant, we’re right next to you. Be quiet.”
“ RUNWAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” Ant yelled in excitement.
“ Ant, we’ve stopped.”
Vottanator and Rasta emerged into the humid air of the Congo, nervously.
“ I’m coming laaaaaaaaaaaaaaads!” yelled Ant, and leapt out of the aeroplane. He rolled over and over on the asphalt of the runway.
“ We here then, Votty?”
“ Don’t call me that.”
“ We’d better go after the Sony buildings.” Said Rasta.
“ Agreed. We have to meet Firebalt at the McDonalds.” Vottanator shrugged as Rasta looked at him. “ He chose it!”
They walked off purposely.
“ ANT! There’ll be chicken!” yelled Rasta.
“ Mm, chicken!” Ant bounded to his feet and ran after them.
**
“ Welcome to de Congo!” A massive woman greeted them as they strolled into McDonalds. “ I shall be your host in this most cultural of restaurants.”
“ Get me your biggest pile of grease!” proclaimed Rasta.
“ ONE BIG MAC!” she yelled.
“ Chicken!” said Ant, to no-one in particular.
“ We serve no chicken here.” She beamed. “ Only kidding! And for you sir?” She leant towards Vottanator.
“ Shut up.”
Rasta leant in closer, to whisper in her ear. “ Don’t mind him. It’s that time of the month.” He winked, and sat at a table. Vottanator grumbled, and Ant went off to play with the giant Lego bricks in the Toy Corner. When the chicken arrived, he bounded over, and then tried to hit on the woman.
“ Hello, gorgeous.” He winked at her.
“ Ant, you idiot. It’s Firebalt, our contact.” Sighed Vottanator.
“ I knew that!” said Ant, but he nabbed his McNuggets and ran back to the playpen. Firebalt sat down.
“ So when Grix said you were disguised as a Congowoman, he meant it?” Said Rasta, in shock.
“ Ya mon!” said Firebalt.
“ Shut up, and drop the accent.” Said Vottanator.
“ Sorry, old boy. Thought it was needed. To keep up the old pretence, you know?” said Firebalt, taking off the fruitbowl he wore on his head.
“ This is Firebalt, from the De Campry family of Essex. This is Rasta. He’s a Skank.”
“ Oh, the Skanks of Cornwall Duchy?”
“ No.”
“ Then the Von Skanks of Prussia?”
“ Sorry.”
“ The O’Skanks of the Cork Region?!”
“ No. The Skanks of everywhere, really.”
Firebalt sat back, mystified.
“ Right, on with the case. We’ll enter through here.” Firebalt smoothed out some paper.
“ You sure this is the right piece of paper?” Firebalt looked down. It was a copy of the Sun, on Page 3. He went red, and threw it away.
“ What exactly did you mean, we’ll enter through here?” asked Rasta, laughing.
“ Shut up. This is the real map. As you see, there’s a panel here. If Ant can cut the alarm, we should be into the control room in no time.”
“ This is putting an awful lot of pressure on Ant.” Suggested Rasta.
They all looked round at Ant, who was building a house with Lego.
“ I think he can take it.” Said Vottanator.
**
great story
good follow up too
good follow up too
It was night. They snuck along the side of the Sony building. Guards patrolled, with guard monkeys. Vottanator and Rasta flanked the panel, then Ant started to tamper with it. Firebalt held an umbrella over his head.
“ Firebalt,” whispered Rasta, “ When I said keep him covered, I didn’t mean from the rain.”
Firebalt grinned sheepishly and pulled out his gun. Ant hummed to himself as he pulled open the panel. They sighed in relief and dived in. As soon as this happened, klaxons bared all around the building. Ant grinned again.
“ Well, what do I know about alarms?”
**
The room was dark, sparingly lit. The emblem of Sony was imprinted in the wall just above the main screen. As the alarms went off, a dark figure turned from the main screen. He beckoned with a long, thin finger.
“ AliBoy? Reaper? Deal with it, please.”
The two Sony thugs nodded to their boss and ran off through the corridors. The tall figure sighed and sat down at his chair. Soon, with the power of that which he had in his grasp, he would re-take the world in the name of Sony. His kind had rejected him, but he would not reject them…
**
Rasta had his Colt45 in hand, and looked quickly around the corner. He had Ant with him. Vottanator and Firebalt had gone a different way.
“ Two guards. Heavy machine guns.” He said.
“ Two rounds. Ham and cheese.” Said Ant.
“ What?” exclaimed Rasta.
“ Your lunch. Here.”
Rasta threw the sandwiches down the corridor.
“ Don’t be stupid.”
A massive explosion blossomed down the corridor, and threw the two men to the ground.
“ You’ve been tinkering with food again, haven’t you?” asked Rasta, wearily.
“ Explosive ham! New invention!” said Ant, now excited again.
Rasta sighed and got to his feet. Then he dived for cover as machine gun fire echoed through the corridor. Ant cheered, and dived into a wall.
“ You haff no vay out, Mr Skank. I assure you, I vill not hurt you.” A harsh Russian voice echoed down the suddenly silent corridor.
“ AliBoy.” Replied Rasta, re-loading his Colt45. “ I’ve killed you before.”
“ It takes more than death to kill me! Perhaps it is time I killed you, Mr Skank. Twice. Maybe three times.” The manical voice of AliBoy said.
“ You’ve never killed me before!” Another voice.
“ Yes, Reaper,” replied Rasta. “ This is true.”
Machine gun fire saturated the corridor suddenly, as Ant dived for cover after recovering.
“ I vill also spare your little monkey.” Said AliBoy.
“ Hey!” yelled Ant. “ Rasta isn’t so little!”
Rasta sighed, and pulled a second Colt from his belt. He rolled out into the corridor, and fired 3 bullets in a tight ring. They slammed into Reaper, propelling him backwards. He groaned, and slid down the wall.
“ They vill be another time, Skank!” yelled AliBoy, disappearing into a secret panel in the wall seconds before Rasta laid a few bullets into the wall he had been standing against.
Rasta groaned, and beckoned to Ant.
“ Would you like some gas releasing cheese?” he asked, before Rasta dragged him towards the control room.
**
Vottanator kicked the door of the control room open, Colt45 outstretched. Only one figure was in the room, shadowed by the darkness.
“ I have been expecting you, Mr Thompson.”
“ What the?” exclaimed Vottanator. “ How do you know my name? No-one knows my name? WHO ARE YOU?”
He levelled the Colt45 at the dark figure.
“ Come now, Mr Thompson. Can’t we all be friends?”
“ I have no friends.”
” Really? I have a great many friends. Your assistant, Firebalt, for example.”
Vottanator stiffened as he felt the barrel of a gun press into his back.
“ Firebalt? We trusted you.”
“ Bit cliché there, Votty. Wouldn’t want Rasta to hear that.”
“ Don’t call me that.”
“ I’ll call you whatever I want.”
Across the room, a door exploded inwards. A faint voice was heard – “ Exploding Ham! It’s all good!” – then Rasta plunged through the gap, twin Colts levelled. Vottanator span, taking the gun and kicking Firebalt backwards.
“ You really shouldn’t have called me that.”
He fired twice.
**
“ Firebalt,” whispered Rasta, “ When I said keep him covered, I didn’t mean from the rain.”
Firebalt grinned sheepishly and pulled out his gun. Ant hummed to himself as he pulled open the panel. They sighed in relief and dived in. As soon as this happened, klaxons bared all around the building. Ant grinned again.
“ Well, what do I know about alarms?”
**
The room was dark, sparingly lit. The emblem of Sony was imprinted in the wall just above the main screen. As the alarms went off, a dark figure turned from the main screen. He beckoned with a long, thin finger.
“ AliBoy? Reaper? Deal with it, please.”
The two Sony thugs nodded to their boss and ran off through the corridors. The tall figure sighed and sat down at his chair. Soon, with the power of that which he had in his grasp, he would re-take the world in the name of Sony. His kind had rejected him, but he would not reject them…
**
Rasta had his Colt45 in hand, and looked quickly around the corner. He had Ant with him. Vottanator and Firebalt had gone a different way.
“ Two guards. Heavy machine guns.” He said.
“ Two rounds. Ham and cheese.” Said Ant.
“ What?” exclaimed Rasta.
“ Your lunch. Here.”
Rasta threw the sandwiches down the corridor.
“ Don’t be stupid.”
A massive explosion blossomed down the corridor, and threw the two men to the ground.
“ You’ve been tinkering with food again, haven’t you?” asked Rasta, wearily.
“ Explosive ham! New invention!” said Ant, now excited again.
Rasta sighed and got to his feet. Then he dived for cover as machine gun fire echoed through the corridor. Ant cheered, and dived into a wall.
“ You haff no vay out, Mr Skank. I assure you, I vill not hurt you.” A harsh Russian voice echoed down the suddenly silent corridor.
“ AliBoy.” Replied Rasta, re-loading his Colt45. “ I’ve killed you before.”
“ It takes more than death to kill me! Perhaps it is time I killed you, Mr Skank. Twice. Maybe three times.” The manical voice of AliBoy said.
“ You’ve never killed me before!” Another voice.
“ Yes, Reaper,” replied Rasta. “ This is true.”
Machine gun fire saturated the corridor suddenly, as Ant dived for cover after recovering.
“ I vill also spare your little monkey.” Said AliBoy.
“ Hey!” yelled Ant. “ Rasta isn’t so little!”
Rasta sighed, and pulled a second Colt from his belt. He rolled out into the corridor, and fired 3 bullets in a tight ring. They slammed into Reaper, propelling him backwards. He groaned, and slid down the wall.
“ They vill be another time, Skank!” yelled AliBoy, disappearing into a secret panel in the wall seconds before Rasta laid a few bullets into the wall he had been standing against.
Rasta groaned, and beckoned to Ant.
“ Would you like some gas releasing cheese?” he asked, before Rasta dragged him towards the control room.
**
Vottanator kicked the door of the control room open, Colt45 outstretched. Only one figure was in the room, shadowed by the darkness.
“ I have been expecting you, Mr Thompson.”
“ What the?” exclaimed Vottanator. “ How do you know my name? No-one knows my name? WHO ARE YOU?”
He levelled the Colt45 at the dark figure.
“ Come now, Mr Thompson. Can’t we all be friends?”
“ I have no friends.”
” Really? I have a great many friends. Your assistant, Firebalt, for example.”
Vottanator stiffened as he felt the barrel of a gun press into his back.
“ Firebalt? We trusted you.”
“ Bit cliché there, Votty. Wouldn’t want Rasta to hear that.”
“ Don’t call me that.”
“ I’ll call you whatever I want.”
Across the room, a door exploded inwards. A faint voice was heard – “ Exploding Ham! It’s all good!” – then Rasta plunged through the gap, twin Colts levelled. Vottanator span, taking the gun and kicking Firebalt backwards.
“ You really shouldn’t have called me that.”
He fired twice.
**
Heheheheheheheh. :-)
READ THIS YOU DARN FOOLS!!!
Someone spent a lot of time on this and just cos it's kinda long you ignore it!!!! Darn idiots you all are.
Please note this is mainly aimed at FinalFantasyFanatic who I hate more then anything else in this world. He is like a cockroach on these forums, you can't get rid of him and no one likes him. G'damn it.
Someone spent a lot of time on this and just cos it's kinda long you ignore it!!!! Darn idiots you all are.
Please note this is mainly aimed at FinalFantasyFanatic who I hate more then anything else in this world. He is like a cockroach on these forums, you can't get rid of him and no one likes him. G'damn it.
Mr. Nice Guy wrote:
> READ THIS YOU DARN FOOLS!!!
Someone spent a lot of time on this and just cos
> it's kinda long you ignore it!!!! Darn idiots you all are.
Actually I spent about half an hour on it... ;-)
> READ THIS YOU DARN FOOLS!!!
Someone spent a lot of time on this and just cos
> it's kinda long you ignore it!!!! Darn idiots you all are.
Actually I spent about half an hour on it... ;-)
Vottanator, that time of the month is it? Which explains a lot... :D :D
Why you little.... :-D
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