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“Damn it out of milk,” said Stryke tossing the empty carton to the side. He grabbed his bag and headed out of the door in search of something to pour onto his cornflakes.
He hadn’t gone far when he noticed he had taken a wrong turn.
“I knew I shouldn’t have drank so much las**t night,” he said while holding his head. Then he turned around to see what appeared to be the back of three large tower blocks Connected to a warehouse with the words ‘top-secret’ scribbled over it surrounded by a barbwire fence.
“That’s s**trange, why’d someone want to build a classified base here in Wales of all places?”
From inside the warehouse a massive explosion attracted Stryke eyes to a mushroom cloud of smoke that gushed out from the hole blown open in the roof.
“Bloody hell!” said Stryke as he jumped back dropping his money onto the floor, “no, no don’t fall down the…” plop, “drain.” He crouched down and peered between the bars to see his 50p slowly seeping down into the sewage. “That was the las**t of the milk money and I’d hate to brake into the bread money, that would jus**t cause chaos in the house hold and before you know it they’re be none left for the pot noodles. No I think I’m going to make a s**tand here. I’ll march in there and demand they give me a refund as they were the cause of this dilemma.”
In front of the gates Stryke puffed up his ches**t and pushed the intercom button.
“Hello?” said an old shriveled voice.
“Hay there,” he said I a deep manly voice, “I’d like to see the manager… please.”
“Why?”
“He owes me some, money”
“You to huh? Come on in,” the big metal gates slowly creaked open and Stryke began walking the path down to the tower blocks. Once he got to the entrance he paused, took a deep breath and pushed open the double glass doors with his head held high. Inside it resembled an old-fashioned hotel lobby, it was quite small and had decorative paper on the walls. An old woman s**tood behind a desk with a bell and behind her was a wall full of pigeonholes along with a few letters.
“Hello love,” she said.
“Um hi.”
“You want to see the boss then?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I, um,” the old woman turned to the left to see a door open and a man in a porters suit walk through, “I don’t think you can do that,” the woman’s voice was full of fear. Stryke noticed a metallic object hidden in the porter’s hand.
“Is there a problem sir?” asked the porter.
“Yeah, I was walking down the road and I heard and explosion coming from that warehouse over there,” explained Stryke.
“Sir I can assure you there was no explosion.”
“There was! It made me lose my milk money.”
The porter placed his hand to his ear, “ u-hu, yeah, yeah, ok, I’ll tell him that.” The porter cleared his throat and looked Stryke in the eye, “ sorry about this sir, how much was it?”
“50” said Stryke in a small voice.
“50? You mean 50p?”
“Um, no… 50 quid.”
“For milk?!”
“Yeah, I’m a, a… a milk man, yeah that’s it. Gotta buy lots of milk.”
“How did you lose 50 pounds?”
“It rolled down the drain.”
“You had 50 pounds in coins and they all fell down the drain?”
“…………..yes.”
“Are you sure love?” asked the old woman.
“Well, um…”
“No,” said the porter.
Stryke looked down at the floor, “no.” The porter reached into his suit pocket and produced a pound.
“Don’t spend it all at once, there’s a good lad.” He flicked the coin to s**tryke’s feet. As Stryke bent down to pick it up when he noticed the item hidden in the porter’s hand was a small gun.
“What the hell is that?!” s**tryke pointed to the gun. The porter put his hand to his ear.
“Code red, code red!” he revealed the gun and gripped it in his hand, “sorry about this sir.”
Stryke dived to the side and rolled behind the desk as several shots were fired from the pis**tol.
“Its nothing personal sir, its jus**t my job.”
“Should of s**tayed at home, should of s**tayed at…” Stryke’s trail of though was blocked by the sight of the old lady’s corpse lying next to him with a bullet hole in her skull.
“Come out sir.”
“But your gonna kill me!”
“There is that, but come on I’m not a bad person.”
“Really,” he kept the porter talking while trying to unzip his bag, once opened he began to search through for an item that could get him out of this jam.
“Golf ball, lucky penny, maximum magazine, walkie-talkies or a… wait a minute!” he took one of the handsets and tosses it to the porters feet.
“…And then my mother said I wasn’t ready for… what’s this?” the porter picked up the handset and began to inspect it.
“Take this you little!” with one swift movement Stryke turned up the volume and pressed down on the transmitter button. The porter s**tared at the walkie-talkie as it begins to make a fuzzing sound.
“Ha ha! Is that it?”
“Opps, wait s**tay there,” Stryke then changed the frequency and a screeching deafening sound came out of the porters secluded earpiece.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!! What have you done?!” with that dis**traction our small welsh hero grabbed his bag and ran out of the doors to safety jus**t as soldiers burs**t into the room from the side exit knocking the porter over.
“That’s jus**t great. I left the pound inside. Well I ain’t leaving without my money.” he peeped through the window to see the whole room filled with armed men. “Damn it! I have to get back inside some how. No one tries to kill me and gets away with it, apart from my mum of course but she did she tripped when she pushed me infront of that car.”
Using his intuition, skill, determination and the unlocked back door he managed to penetrate the building. Stryke scanned the small room to see a door infront of him and a s**tairway to the right.
“eni meni minei…”
“hay, what was that noise” said a voice from the top of the s**tairs.
“mow!” Stryke dashed though the door jus**t as a guard came down the s**tairs. Stryke pressed agains**t the door and shut his eyes.
“uh,” said the guard as he went back to his pos**t.
“That voice, so familiar,” Stryke shook his head, “no it couldn’t be. Anyway, I have to get my money!” he opened his eyes. “aahhhhhhh! No wait, he’s not moving.” In amazement Stryke walked up to the man that seemed to be connected to the wall and poked him.
“well I’ll be damned! Look at this,” s**tryke began feeling the wires that were connected to the headset the man was wearing. He was in a slot in the wall in a blank white room with a headset connected to his eyes, ears and temples. “hey what’s this,” he looked at the nametag on the mans white lab jacket, “hybrid v, v, va, val, va. It’s no use! With out my spell checker and my mum I jus**t can’t read it. I guess that’s what you get for spending mos**t your English lessons making out with that big ches**ted girl in the supply room.”
“Not again,” said the Hybrid. Stryke jumped back in shock and hid in the corner. “This s**tupid thing keeps on crashing!” hybrid pulled out a phone from his pocket. “Yeah hello, yeah, the thing crashed again. Ok so jus**t boot it up then! Yes of course I want the same program, ok bye.” A soldier walked in from the door and placed a s**trange black CD in a slot in the wall. A panel on the ceiling shifted to the side and a TV monitor came down to about head height suspended by wires with the word ‘loading’ written on it.
“Thank you technician,” hybrid said as the monitor displayed the words ‘loading complete’.
“You and your damn horses’” mumbled the solider as he left the room totally unaware of Stryke’s presence.
“That’s better, “said hybrid with a big smile on his face, “virtual reality commence,” and with that he froze again.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Stryke walked up to the monitor to see the words ‘VR Barbie pony ride’ on the top and the man who was in the room with him motionless also on the screen show jumping infront of a crowd. “Virtual reality, well I never.” Then he had an idea. “ if I get his jacket, some fake piercing and grow a beard maybe I could pretend to be him and sneak pas**t the guards. No that wouldn’t work, he’s like 5 foot 1. How would I fit into that jacket?” Stryke searched hybrid’s jacket pockets and pulled out the phone. “Now this gives me an idea,” after safely examining it he pushed the big red button saying ‘called technician’.
-beep – beep – beep-
“B****r its engaged, oh well I guess it’s worth a shoot. HAY GUARD!”
The guard ran in and Stryke swung the monitor hitting the guard on the head knocking him out. He searched the guard’s pockets to find a packet of silkcut cigarettes and a level one-clearance card.
“wow,” he said picking up the guards m16, “this is so co….” Boom! Boom! Booom! Boom! boom! Bullets flew everywhere while Stryke tried to take control of the firearm. After a long session of shots it finally ran out of ammo.
“Few, lucky no body heard that.” He turned to find angry newbie soldiers looking at him down their guns, “um, he he, your not going to believe this but…” Smack!
Gradually Stryke opened his eyes. Though his vision was hazy from the knock to the head he could work out he was in a grimy prison cell.
“Oh my head,” he began rubbing it but s**topped when he heard a small girlish giggle. He turned to see a voluptuous blonde wearing a lab coat next to him.
“He he, hello there,” she said waving.
“Who are you?”
“The names Schroeder, but you can call me Schro. You?”
“The names Stryke. What is this place?” Schroeder put here hand to her mouth and gasped.
“You mean your not Grix?” Stryke was about to comment when a voice came from the shadows outside the cell.
“No,” the two prisoners spring back in shock.
“wh, who’s there?” asked Schroeder.
“It’s been a long time agent Schro 005.”
“Grix?”
“Yes,” Grix s**tepped out of the darkness.
“Who’s he?” asked Stryke, “and who are you for that matter?”
“I’m Schroeder of her majes**ties secret service and this is agent Grix from the CIA. We were sent here to take down metal gore.”
“Metal what?”
“Metal gore,” added Grix, “its an undetectable nuclear missile that if not s**topped could s**tart world war 3.”
“But who are you?” asked Schroeder.
“I told you I’m s**tryke.”
“From where?”
“Huh?”
“From where? England’s agency, FBI, CIA, Russian secret service?”
“Um… Wales?”
“You mean your not here to s**top metal gear too?”
“Well no.”
“What are you doing here then” inquired Grix as he tried to unlock the cell door.
“I… um.. Well it seemed that I was jus**t… um,”
“you were the kid in the lobby weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So what are you doing here?” asked Schroeder. The cell door swung open.
“No time,” said Grix, “we have to get out of here and to the warehouse!”
“Here,” said Schroeder passing Stryke a gun, “you may need this.” The trio burs**t out of the prison and Grix cleared the hallway of guards.
“Come this way,” beckoned Grix. They ran into the elevator, “here’s what we’ll do. I have managed to find that the entrance to the warehouse is in this tower on one of two floors. I’ll go on one and you Schro go on the other with the kid.”
“hey I ain’t no kid.” Grix looked down at Stryke and raised his left eyebrow.
“Ok,” said Grix as the doors of the elevator parted, “here’s your s**top, good luck.”
The elevator doors closed and Stryke was left alone with Schroeder in a long corridor riddled with camera and another door at the end.
“Here’s the plan,” pulling out a grenade Schroeder continued, “this is a chaff grenade, it confuses electrical equipment and makes them go haywire. One of these should disarm all the cameras.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“What,” asked Schroeder.
“Nothing.”
“Ok, let’s do it. When I say go we’ll run to end of the hall.” She pulled the pin and counted to 3, “go!”
The chaff exploded with a flash of light and all the cameras faced the floor while the pair made a run for it.
“its locked.”
“Stand back,” Schroeder said. She raised here gun to the control panel at the side of the door. Bang!
With a fizz and a spark the door squeaked open. It led to a room filled with dancing girls wearing skimpy cos**tumes rubbing up and down on poles to music.
“This is the cooles**t thing I have ever seen!” drooled Stryke.
“Shush, look,” Schroeder pointed to a man in his middle ages sitting at the back of the room putting 5 pound notes into the girls underwear. “It’s Tony, the leader of the metal gore operation.”
“Tony? Hybrid? Something’s not quite right here.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Talking to yourself.”
“Sorry.”
“We have to get to Tony.”
“Why?”
“He’s got the override card for metal gore. It can s**tart up metal gore or it can shut it down depending on whether its on or off already.”
“What was that?” said Tony, “turn the music off.” All went silent and everyone turned to face the Stryke and Schroeder.
“Think of something,” whispered Schroeder.
“um… good evening lady’s and gentleman. Today for your viewing pleasure we have… um.” He turns to Schroeder looking at her lab coat, “… the s**triping scientis**t.”
“What?!” shouted Schroeder.
“Oh goodie,” clapped Tony.
“You keep them dis**tracted and I’ll try to find metal gear,” whispered Stryke.
“But, but but, how?”
“Dance and unbutton your top for a s**tart. Then get close to him and get the card,” So as Schroeder began dancing and Stryke crept out the back door.
Stryke wandered into the entrance for the warehouse 2 floors up. The place had a military look and was very big. The second floor consis**ted of a hanging walkway leading across to a set of s**teps going down. The firs**t floor had a control room and a ladder leading to metal gores cockpit.
“Hello,” ‘hello’ ‘hello’ his voice echoed, “cool” and then his eyes met with metal gore. It was the size of a house and seemed to resemble a transformer. The boss one, octo something or other (he could turn from a truck into a robot). Metal gore had a small cockpit head at the top with a main body that of the front of a truck and long s**trong legs with hydraulic pumps on the side for movement.
Each arm was packed with weaponry; the left had an enormous chain gun connected to the end and a flame-thrower attached to the elbow, the right arm was basically jus**t a hefty cannon that fired explosive charges.
“How the hell am I meant to s**top that thing? The card!” he turned back as he heard the door slam shut behind him, he tried to open it but it was locked, “why?!” no matter how much he banged on it the sound was blocked out by the music of the s**trip show and Tony’s voice saying ‘take it off, take it all off’.
“I want to go back in, please!” he s**tood there for a few moments thinking what to do. Then from the corner of his eye he saw a cleanse card slip. “What’s this? No I don’t want the card I want the girls! Damn it.” he snatched off the floor and began to try and read it, “ov, over r, r,r…”
“Sound it out.” Stryke looked down to the firs**t floor were Grix was s**tanding.
“Over r-i-d-, over ride key!”
“Well done, now pass it down here.”
“What has it already been s**tarted?”
“Yeah, quick before its too late!” though s**tryke’s reading skills are quite bad his aim is one of the bes**t you have seen. With one toss the card landed right into Grix’s hand. “Well done!”
Grix walked into the control panel and put the card into a disk drive.
[metal gore operational, s**tart up in 3… 2… 1]
“what the?!”
“ha ha ha! fool!”
“I don’t unders**tand, I thought you were a good guy.”
“Grix is a good guy, or I should say was.”
“What?” Grix pointed his gun at Stryke.
“you see I’m not Grix.” The door behind Stryke flings open and a half-dressed Schroeder runs in.
“don’t give him the key! he’s not Grix… I’m too late ain’t I?” she shouted while s**truggling to pull her skirt up.
“He’s not?”
“No I’m not!”
“Then who is he?” asked the confused Stryke.
“He’s….” before she could finish her sentence the villain butted in.
“Mr Snuggly! Hah hah!” Snuggly put his hand to the back of his head and grabbed hold of a zip. With one drag the mask fell off and he let it drop to the floor.
“Who?” said the surprised Schroeder.
“You know, the evil one.”
“Who?” repeated Schroeder.
“The iron fis**t.”
“Who?” asked Schroeder and Stryke in unison.
“The oppressor of jus**tice.”
“Wh…”
“Ok, ok. The janitor.” Snuggly looked to the floor in shame.
“Ow.”
“Who did you think it was?” Schroeder begins to blush and looks to the floor as well.
“… Neal diamond.”
“Neal diamond?! What the hell gave you that idea?!”
“Well I knew you weren’t Grix cos’ his body was found at his home and I guess I was jus**t hoping.”
“Give the man a little credit,” said Stryke sympathetically.
“Thanks, and for that I won’t kill you,”
“Yay! Cheers man,”
“Until I kill her!” Snuggly reset his aim to Schroeder and pulled the trigger.
“Noooooooooooooooo!” wailed s**tryke, “she was fit, how could you?!” Schroeder’s body over the side of the walkway and fell all the way down to the ground floor. Splat.
“Damn you! Now I won’t get that cool ending with the moose things and the snowmobile!” Snuggly raised his gun to Stryke. “Jus**t one ques**tion, why do it?”
“well it’s simple really,” said Snuggly, “ Tony was the boss but never had the guts to go through with it and set off the thing. In the end all he was interes**ted in was cars and girls.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Shush, I’m trying to reveal my plan!”
“Opps, sorry.”
“Anyway, where was I?”
“Girls and cars I think.”
“Oh yes, thanks. All he wanted where the small things in life. But I had my hopes set much higher, if we fire metal gore it will s**tart a global war as no one will know who shot it.”
“Of course. But how would that help you?”
“That’s the clever bit, you see a few years ago I inherited a little bit of money and for fun I inves**ted it in s**tocks and shares. The only problem was I they got put in the wrong company and I ended up penniless so had to s**tart sweeping floors for a living. If a war gets s**tarted, finally my s**tocks in ‘military tea cosies’ will rocket and I will be rich!”
“So that’s the plan, kill millions and get rich quick plan?”
“Yes, to bad you won’t be able to buy any. Now prepare to die!” snuggly pulls the trigger. Click. “Huh?” click. Click.
“Hah! Seems that you’re out of bullets!”
“Damn I knew I shouldn’t have played Russian-roulette with Brad earlier.” Stryke began to run toward him. “Not so fas**t Stryke. I may now be able to shot you will this gun,” Snuggly jumped into the metal gore cockpit, “but I’ll blow the sh*t out of you with my chain gun!”
“gulp.” The metal gore began to move. Firs**t the left arm wiggled about before fixing onto s**trykes position and then a small red dot appeared on his forehead.
“a s**tinger missle would be really helpful about now.” Stryke looked about, “ok then, um… bye.
The chain gun roared away.
Stryke lifts off his headset and s**teps out of the booth.
“Dawn it, game over!”
“Well?” asks the s**tore helper, “did you like it, shall I order you a copy to play at home?”
“That was so cool,” said Stryke blinking repeatedly.
“Don’t worry about that, your eyes have to get used to the light, cos’ you’ve been in VR mode since the shop opened today.”
“Yeah I’ll have a copy.”
“So that’s one copy of Metal Gore Snuggly, 39.99 please.
“There you go,” they exchange items.
“Thank you for shopping at Special Reserve the world’s leading game shop. Oh and remember to come in next week for the opening of our hundredth gamer of the year competition, this mouth you can have to race a track on GT34”
“Ok, I might. Thanks again.” Stryke hoped onto his hover moped and whizzed down the road.
“Bye.”
thanks of reading
-Linx-
He hadn’t gone far when he noticed he had taken a wrong turn.
“I knew I shouldn’t have drank so much las**t night,” he said while holding his head. Then he turned around to see what appeared to be the back of three large tower blocks Connected to a warehouse with the words ‘top-secret’ scribbled over it surrounded by a barbwire fence.
“That’s s**trange, why’d someone want to build a classified base here in Wales of all places?”
From inside the warehouse a massive explosion attracted Stryke eyes to a mushroom cloud of smoke that gushed out from the hole blown open in the roof.
“Bloody hell!” said Stryke as he jumped back dropping his money onto the floor, “no, no don’t fall down the…” plop, “drain.” He crouched down and peered between the bars to see his 50p slowly seeping down into the sewage. “That was the las**t of the milk money and I’d hate to brake into the bread money, that would jus**t cause chaos in the house hold and before you know it they’re be none left for the pot noodles. No I think I’m going to make a s**tand here. I’ll march in there and demand they give me a refund as they were the cause of this dilemma.”
In front of the gates Stryke puffed up his ches**t and pushed the intercom button.
“Hello?” said an old shriveled voice.
“Hay there,” he said I a deep manly voice, “I’d like to see the manager… please.”
“Why?”
“He owes me some, money”
“You to huh? Come on in,” the big metal gates slowly creaked open and Stryke began walking the path down to the tower blocks. Once he got to the entrance he paused, took a deep breath and pushed open the double glass doors with his head held high. Inside it resembled an old-fashioned hotel lobby, it was quite small and had decorative paper on the walls. An old woman s**tood behind a desk with a bell and behind her was a wall full of pigeonholes along with a few letters.
“Hello love,” she said.
“Um hi.”
“You want to see the boss then?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I, um,” the old woman turned to the left to see a door open and a man in a porters suit walk through, “I don’t think you can do that,” the woman’s voice was full of fear. Stryke noticed a metallic object hidden in the porter’s hand.
“Is there a problem sir?” asked the porter.
“Yeah, I was walking down the road and I heard and explosion coming from that warehouse over there,” explained Stryke.
“Sir I can assure you there was no explosion.”
“There was! It made me lose my milk money.”
The porter placed his hand to his ear, “ u-hu, yeah, yeah, ok, I’ll tell him that.” The porter cleared his throat and looked Stryke in the eye, “ sorry about this sir, how much was it?”
“50” said Stryke in a small voice.
“50? You mean 50p?”
“Um, no… 50 quid.”
“For milk?!”
“Yeah, I’m a, a… a milk man, yeah that’s it. Gotta buy lots of milk.”
“How did you lose 50 pounds?”
“It rolled down the drain.”
“You had 50 pounds in coins and they all fell down the drain?”
“…………..yes.”
“Are you sure love?” asked the old woman.
“Well, um…”
“No,” said the porter.
Stryke looked down at the floor, “no.” The porter reached into his suit pocket and produced a pound.
“Don’t spend it all at once, there’s a good lad.” He flicked the coin to s**tryke’s feet. As Stryke bent down to pick it up when he noticed the item hidden in the porter’s hand was a small gun.
“What the hell is that?!” s**tryke pointed to the gun. The porter put his hand to his ear.
“Code red, code red!” he revealed the gun and gripped it in his hand, “sorry about this sir.”
Stryke dived to the side and rolled behind the desk as several shots were fired from the pis**tol.
“Its nothing personal sir, its jus**t my job.”
“Should of s**tayed at home, should of s**tayed at…” Stryke’s trail of though was blocked by the sight of the old lady’s corpse lying next to him with a bullet hole in her skull.
“Come out sir.”
“But your gonna kill me!”
“There is that, but come on I’m not a bad person.”
“Really,” he kept the porter talking while trying to unzip his bag, once opened he began to search through for an item that could get him out of this jam.
“Golf ball, lucky penny, maximum magazine, walkie-talkies or a… wait a minute!” he took one of the handsets and tosses it to the porters feet.
“…And then my mother said I wasn’t ready for… what’s this?” the porter picked up the handset and began to inspect it.
“Take this you little!” with one swift movement Stryke turned up the volume and pressed down on the transmitter button. The porter s**tared at the walkie-talkie as it begins to make a fuzzing sound.
“Ha ha! Is that it?”
“Opps, wait s**tay there,” Stryke then changed the frequency and a screeching deafening sound came out of the porters secluded earpiece.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!! What have you done?!” with that dis**traction our small welsh hero grabbed his bag and ran out of the doors to safety jus**t as soldiers burs**t into the room from the side exit knocking the porter over.
“That’s jus**t great. I left the pound inside. Well I ain’t leaving without my money.” he peeped through the window to see the whole room filled with armed men. “Damn it! I have to get back inside some how. No one tries to kill me and gets away with it, apart from my mum of course but she did she tripped when she pushed me infront of that car.”
Using his intuition, skill, determination and the unlocked back door he managed to penetrate the building. Stryke scanned the small room to see a door infront of him and a s**tairway to the right.
“eni meni minei…”
“hay, what was that noise” said a voice from the top of the s**tairs.
“mow!” Stryke dashed though the door jus**t as a guard came down the s**tairs. Stryke pressed agains**t the door and shut his eyes.
“uh,” said the guard as he went back to his pos**t.
“That voice, so familiar,” Stryke shook his head, “no it couldn’t be. Anyway, I have to get my money!” he opened his eyes. “aahhhhhhh! No wait, he’s not moving.” In amazement Stryke walked up to the man that seemed to be connected to the wall and poked him.
“well I’ll be damned! Look at this,” s**tryke began feeling the wires that were connected to the headset the man was wearing. He was in a slot in the wall in a blank white room with a headset connected to his eyes, ears and temples. “hey what’s this,” he looked at the nametag on the mans white lab jacket, “hybrid v, v, va, val, va. It’s no use! With out my spell checker and my mum I jus**t can’t read it. I guess that’s what you get for spending mos**t your English lessons making out with that big ches**ted girl in the supply room.”
“Not again,” said the Hybrid. Stryke jumped back in shock and hid in the corner. “This s**tupid thing keeps on crashing!” hybrid pulled out a phone from his pocket. “Yeah hello, yeah, the thing crashed again. Ok so jus**t boot it up then! Yes of course I want the same program, ok bye.” A soldier walked in from the door and placed a s**trange black CD in a slot in the wall. A panel on the ceiling shifted to the side and a TV monitor came down to about head height suspended by wires with the word ‘loading’ written on it.
“Thank you technician,” hybrid said as the monitor displayed the words ‘loading complete’.
“You and your damn horses’” mumbled the solider as he left the room totally unaware of Stryke’s presence.
“That’s better, “said hybrid with a big smile on his face, “virtual reality commence,” and with that he froze again.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Stryke walked up to the monitor to see the words ‘VR Barbie pony ride’ on the top and the man who was in the room with him motionless also on the screen show jumping infront of a crowd. “Virtual reality, well I never.” Then he had an idea. “ if I get his jacket, some fake piercing and grow a beard maybe I could pretend to be him and sneak pas**t the guards. No that wouldn’t work, he’s like 5 foot 1. How would I fit into that jacket?” Stryke searched hybrid’s jacket pockets and pulled out the phone. “Now this gives me an idea,” after safely examining it he pushed the big red button saying ‘called technician’.
-beep – beep – beep-
“B****r its engaged, oh well I guess it’s worth a shoot. HAY GUARD!”
The guard ran in and Stryke swung the monitor hitting the guard on the head knocking him out. He searched the guard’s pockets to find a packet of silkcut cigarettes and a level one-clearance card.
“wow,” he said picking up the guards m16, “this is so co….” Boom! Boom! Booom! Boom! boom! Bullets flew everywhere while Stryke tried to take control of the firearm. After a long session of shots it finally ran out of ammo.
“Few, lucky no body heard that.” He turned to find angry newbie soldiers looking at him down their guns, “um, he he, your not going to believe this but…” Smack!
Gradually Stryke opened his eyes. Though his vision was hazy from the knock to the head he could work out he was in a grimy prison cell.
“Oh my head,” he began rubbing it but s**topped when he heard a small girlish giggle. He turned to see a voluptuous blonde wearing a lab coat next to him.
“He he, hello there,” she said waving.
“Who are you?”
“The names Schroeder, but you can call me Schro. You?”
“The names Stryke. What is this place?” Schroeder put here hand to her mouth and gasped.
“You mean your not Grix?” Stryke was about to comment when a voice came from the shadows outside the cell.
“No,” the two prisoners spring back in shock.
“wh, who’s there?” asked Schroeder.
“It’s been a long time agent Schro 005.”
“Grix?”
“Yes,” Grix s**tepped out of the darkness.
“Who’s he?” asked Stryke, “and who are you for that matter?”
“I’m Schroeder of her majes**ties secret service and this is agent Grix from the CIA. We were sent here to take down metal gore.”
“Metal what?”
“Metal gore,” added Grix, “its an undetectable nuclear missile that if not s**topped could s**tart world war 3.”
“But who are you?” asked Schroeder.
“I told you I’m s**tryke.”
“From where?”
“Huh?”
“From where? England’s agency, FBI, CIA, Russian secret service?”
“Um… Wales?”
“You mean your not here to s**top metal gear too?”
“Well no.”
“What are you doing here then” inquired Grix as he tried to unlock the cell door.
“I… um.. Well it seemed that I was jus**t… um,”
“you were the kid in the lobby weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So what are you doing here?” asked Schroeder. The cell door swung open.
“No time,” said Grix, “we have to get out of here and to the warehouse!”
“Here,” said Schroeder passing Stryke a gun, “you may need this.” The trio burs**t out of the prison and Grix cleared the hallway of guards.
“Come this way,” beckoned Grix. They ran into the elevator, “here’s what we’ll do. I have managed to find that the entrance to the warehouse is in this tower on one of two floors. I’ll go on one and you Schro go on the other with the kid.”
“hey I ain’t no kid.” Grix looked down at Stryke and raised his left eyebrow.
“Ok,” said Grix as the doors of the elevator parted, “here’s your s**top, good luck.”
The elevator doors closed and Stryke was left alone with Schroeder in a long corridor riddled with camera and another door at the end.
“Here’s the plan,” pulling out a grenade Schroeder continued, “this is a chaff grenade, it confuses electrical equipment and makes them go haywire. One of these should disarm all the cameras.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“What,” asked Schroeder.
“Nothing.”
“Ok, let’s do it. When I say go we’ll run to end of the hall.” She pulled the pin and counted to 3, “go!”
The chaff exploded with a flash of light and all the cameras faced the floor while the pair made a run for it.
“its locked.”
“Stand back,” Schroeder said. She raised here gun to the control panel at the side of the door. Bang!
With a fizz and a spark the door squeaked open. It led to a room filled with dancing girls wearing skimpy cos**tumes rubbing up and down on poles to music.
“This is the cooles**t thing I have ever seen!” drooled Stryke.
“Shush, look,” Schroeder pointed to a man in his middle ages sitting at the back of the room putting 5 pound notes into the girls underwear. “It’s Tony, the leader of the metal gore operation.”
“Tony? Hybrid? Something’s not quite right here.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Talking to yourself.”
“Sorry.”
“We have to get to Tony.”
“Why?”
“He’s got the override card for metal gore. It can s**tart up metal gore or it can shut it down depending on whether its on or off already.”
“What was that?” said Tony, “turn the music off.” All went silent and everyone turned to face the Stryke and Schroeder.
“Think of something,” whispered Schroeder.
“um… good evening lady’s and gentleman. Today for your viewing pleasure we have… um.” He turns to Schroeder looking at her lab coat, “… the s**triping scientis**t.”
“What?!” shouted Schroeder.
“Oh goodie,” clapped Tony.
“You keep them dis**tracted and I’ll try to find metal gear,” whispered Stryke.
“But, but but, how?”
“Dance and unbutton your top for a s**tart. Then get close to him and get the card,” So as Schroeder began dancing and Stryke crept out the back door.
Stryke wandered into the entrance for the warehouse 2 floors up. The place had a military look and was very big. The second floor consis**ted of a hanging walkway leading across to a set of s**teps going down. The firs**t floor had a control room and a ladder leading to metal gores cockpit.
“Hello,” ‘hello’ ‘hello’ his voice echoed, “cool” and then his eyes met with metal gore. It was the size of a house and seemed to resemble a transformer. The boss one, octo something or other (he could turn from a truck into a robot). Metal gore had a small cockpit head at the top with a main body that of the front of a truck and long s**trong legs with hydraulic pumps on the side for movement.
Each arm was packed with weaponry; the left had an enormous chain gun connected to the end and a flame-thrower attached to the elbow, the right arm was basically jus**t a hefty cannon that fired explosive charges.
“How the hell am I meant to s**top that thing? The card!” he turned back as he heard the door slam shut behind him, he tried to open it but it was locked, “why?!” no matter how much he banged on it the sound was blocked out by the music of the s**trip show and Tony’s voice saying ‘take it off, take it all off’.
“I want to go back in, please!” he s**tood there for a few moments thinking what to do. Then from the corner of his eye he saw a cleanse card slip. “What’s this? No I don’t want the card I want the girls! Damn it.” he snatched off the floor and began to try and read it, “ov, over r, r,r…”
“Sound it out.” Stryke looked down to the firs**t floor were Grix was s**tanding.
“Over r-i-d-, over ride key!”
“Well done, now pass it down here.”
“What has it already been s**tarted?”
“Yeah, quick before its too late!” though s**tryke’s reading skills are quite bad his aim is one of the bes**t you have seen. With one toss the card landed right into Grix’s hand. “Well done!”
Grix walked into the control panel and put the card into a disk drive.
[metal gore operational, s**tart up in 3… 2… 1]
“what the?!”
“ha ha ha! fool!”
“I don’t unders**tand, I thought you were a good guy.”
“Grix is a good guy, or I should say was.”
“What?” Grix pointed his gun at Stryke.
“you see I’m not Grix.” The door behind Stryke flings open and a half-dressed Schroeder runs in.
“don’t give him the key! he’s not Grix… I’m too late ain’t I?” she shouted while s**truggling to pull her skirt up.
“He’s not?”
“No I’m not!”
“Then who is he?” asked the confused Stryke.
“He’s….” before she could finish her sentence the villain butted in.
“Mr Snuggly! Hah hah!” Snuggly put his hand to the back of his head and grabbed hold of a zip. With one drag the mask fell off and he let it drop to the floor.
“Who?” said the surprised Schroeder.
“You know, the evil one.”
“Who?” repeated Schroeder.
“The iron fis**t.”
“Who?” asked Schroeder and Stryke in unison.
“The oppressor of jus**tice.”
“Wh…”
“Ok, ok. The janitor.” Snuggly looked to the floor in shame.
“Ow.”
“Who did you think it was?” Schroeder begins to blush and looks to the floor as well.
“… Neal diamond.”
“Neal diamond?! What the hell gave you that idea?!”
“Well I knew you weren’t Grix cos’ his body was found at his home and I guess I was jus**t hoping.”
“Give the man a little credit,” said Stryke sympathetically.
“Thanks, and for that I won’t kill you,”
“Yay! Cheers man,”
“Until I kill her!” Snuggly reset his aim to Schroeder and pulled the trigger.
“Noooooooooooooooo!” wailed s**tryke, “she was fit, how could you?!” Schroeder’s body over the side of the walkway and fell all the way down to the ground floor. Splat.
“Damn you! Now I won’t get that cool ending with the moose things and the snowmobile!” Snuggly raised his gun to Stryke. “Jus**t one ques**tion, why do it?”
“well it’s simple really,” said Snuggly, “ Tony was the boss but never had the guts to go through with it and set off the thing. In the end all he was interes**ted in was cars and girls.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Shush, I’m trying to reveal my plan!”
“Opps, sorry.”
“Anyway, where was I?”
“Girls and cars I think.”
“Oh yes, thanks. All he wanted where the small things in life. But I had my hopes set much higher, if we fire metal gore it will s**tart a global war as no one will know who shot it.”
“Of course. But how would that help you?”
“That’s the clever bit, you see a few years ago I inherited a little bit of money and for fun I inves**ted it in s**tocks and shares. The only problem was I they got put in the wrong company and I ended up penniless so had to s**tart sweeping floors for a living. If a war gets s**tarted, finally my s**tocks in ‘military tea cosies’ will rocket and I will be rich!”
“So that’s the plan, kill millions and get rich quick plan?”
“Yes, to bad you won’t be able to buy any. Now prepare to die!” snuggly pulls the trigger. Click. “Huh?” click. Click.
“Hah! Seems that you’re out of bullets!”
“Damn I knew I shouldn’t have played Russian-roulette with Brad earlier.” Stryke began to run toward him. “Not so fas**t Stryke. I may now be able to shot you will this gun,” Snuggly jumped into the metal gore cockpit, “but I’ll blow the sh*t out of you with my chain gun!”
“gulp.” The metal gore began to move. Firs**t the left arm wiggled about before fixing onto s**trykes position and then a small red dot appeared on his forehead.
“a s**tinger missle would be really helpful about now.” Stryke looked about, “ok then, um… bye.
The chain gun roared away.
Stryke lifts off his headset and s**teps out of the booth.
“Dawn it, game over!”
“Well?” asks the s**tore helper, “did you like it, shall I order you a copy to play at home?”
“That was so cool,” said Stryke blinking repeatedly.
“Don’t worry about that, your eyes have to get used to the light, cos’ you’ve been in VR mode since the shop opened today.”
“Yeah I’ll have a copy.”
“So that’s one copy of Metal Gore Snuggly, 39.99 please.
“There you go,” they exchange items.
“Thank you for shopping at Special Reserve the world’s leading game shop. Oh and remember to come in next week for the opening of our hundredth gamer of the year competition, this mouth you can have to race a track on GT34”
“Ok, I might. Thanks again.” Stryke hoped onto his hover moped and whizzed down the road.
“Bye.”
thanks of reading
-Linx-
Tiltawhirl wrote:
> You have way too much time on your hands.
not anymore, damn school.
but thanks for caring
> You have way too much time on your hands.
not anymore, damn school.
but thanks for caring
You have way too much time on your hands.
"VR Barbie pony ride"
******
Its funny cos its true
:op
******
Its funny cos its true
:op
Like the twist at the end.
“Damn it out of milk,” said Stryke tossing the empty carton to the side. He grabbed his bag and headed out of the door in search of something to pour onto his cornflakes.
He hadn’t gone far when he noticed he had taken a wrong turn.
“I knew I shouldn’t have drank so much las**t night,” he said while holding his head. Then he turned around to see what appeared to be the back of three large tower blocks Connected to a warehouse with the words ‘top-secret’ scribbled over it surrounded by a barbwire fence.
“That’s s**trange, why’d someone want to build a classified base here in Wales of all places?”
From inside the warehouse a massive explosion attracted Stryke eyes to a mushroom cloud of smoke that gushed out from the hole blown open in the roof.
“Bloody hell!” said Stryke as he jumped back dropping his money onto the floor, “no, no don’t fall down the…” plop, “drain.” He crouched down and peered between the bars to see his 50p slowly seeping down into the sewage. “That was the las**t of the milk money and I’d hate to brake into the bread money, that would jus**t cause chaos in the house hold and before you know it they’re be none left for the pot noodles. No I think I’m going to make a s**tand here. I’ll march in there and demand they give me a refund as they were the cause of this dilemma.”
In front of the gates Stryke puffed up his ches**t and pushed the intercom button.
“Hello?” said an old shriveled voice.
“Hay there,” he said I a deep manly voice, “I’d like to see the manager… please.”
“Why?”
“He owes me some, money”
“You to huh? Come on in,” the big metal gates slowly creaked open and Stryke began walking the path down to the tower blocks. Once he got to the entrance he paused, took a deep breath and pushed open the double glass doors with his head held high. Inside it resembled an old-fashioned hotel lobby, it was quite small and had decorative paper on the walls. An old woman s**tood behind a desk with a bell and behind her was a wall full of pigeonholes along with a few letters.
“Hello love,” she said.
“Um hi.”
“You want to see the boss then?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I, um,” the old woman turned to the left to see a door open and a man in a porters suit walk through, “I don’t think you can do that,” the woman’s voice was full of fear. Stryke noticed a metallic object hidden in the porter’s hand.
“Is there a problem sir?” asked the porter.
“Yeah, I was walking down the road and I heard and explosion coming from that warehouse over there,” explained Stryke.
“Sir I can assure you there was no explosion.”
“There was! It made me lose my milk money.”
The porter placed his hand to his ear, “ u-hu, yeah, yeah, ok, I’ll tell him that.” The porter cleared his throat and looked Stryke in the eye, “ sorry about this sir, how much was it?”
“50” said Stryke in a small voice.
“50? You mean 50p?”
“Um, no… 50 quid.”
“For milk?!”
“Yeah, I’m a, a… a milk man, yeah that’s it. Gotta buy lots of milk.”
“How did you lose 50 pounds?”
“It rolled down the drain.”
“You had 50 pounds in coins and they all fell down the drain?”
“…………..yes.”
“Are you sure love?” asked the old woman.
“Well, um…”
“No,” said the porter.
Stryke looked down at the floor, “no.” The porter reached into his suit pocket and produced a pound.
“Don’t spend it all at once, there’s a good lad.” He flicked the coin to s**tryke’s feet. As Stryke bent down to pick it up when he noticed the item hidden in the porter’s hand was a small gun.
“What the hell is that?!” s**tryke pointed to the gun. The porter put his hand to his ear.
“Code red, code red!” he revealed the gun and gripped it in his hand, “sorry about this sir.”
Stryke dived to the side and rolled behind the desk as several shots were fired from the pis**tol.
“Its nothing personal sir, its jus**t my job.”
“Should of s**tayed at home, should of s**tayed at…” Stryke’s trail of though was blocked by the sight of the old lady’s corpse lying next to him with a bullet hole in her skull.
“Come out sir.”
“But your gonna kill me!”
“There is that, but come on I’m not a bad person.”
“Really,” he kept the porter talking while trying to unzip his bag, once opened he began to search through for an item that could get him out of this jam.
“Golf ball, lucky penny, maximum magazine, walkie-talkies or a… wait a minute!” he took one of the handsets and tosses it to the porters feet.
“…And then my mother said I wasn’t ready for… what’s this?” the porter picked up the handset and began to inspect it.
“Take this you little!” with one swift movement Stryke turned up the volume and pressed down on the transmitter button. The porter s**tared at the walkie-talkie as it begins to make a fuzzing sound.
“Ha ha! Is that it?”
“Opps, wait s**tay there,” Stryke then changed the frequency and a screeching deafening sound came out of the porters secluded earpiece.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!! What have you done?!” with that dis**traction our small welsh hero grabbed his bag and ran out of the doors to safety jus**t as soldiers burs**t into the room from the side exit knocking the porter over.
“That’s jus**t great. I left the pound inside. Well I ain’t leaving without my money.” he peeped through the window to see the whole room filled with armed men. “Damn it! I have to get back inside some how. No one tries to kill me and gets away with it, apart from my mum of course but she did she tripped when she pushed me infront of that car.”
Using his intuition, skill, determination and the unlocked back door he managed to penetrate the building. Stryke scanned the small room to see a door infront of him and a s**tairway to the right.
“eni meni minei…”
“hay, what was that noise” said a voice from the top of the s**tairs.
“mow!” Stryke dashed though the door jus**t as a guard came down the s**tairs. Stryke pressed agains**t the door and shut his eyes.
“uh,” said the guard as he went back to his pos**t.
“That voice, so familiar,” Stryke shook his head, “no it couldn’t be. Anyway, I have to get my money!” he opened his eyes. “aahhhhhhh! No wait, he’s not moving.” In amazement Stryke walked up to the man that seemed to be connected to the wall and poked him.
“well I’ll be damned! Look at this,” s**tryke began feeling the wires that were connected to the headset the man was wearing. He was in a slot in the wall in a blank white room with a headset connected to his eyes, ears and temples. “hey what’s this,” he looked at the nametag on the mans white lab jacket, “hybrid v, v, va, val, va. It’s no use! With out my spell checker and my mum I jus**t can’t read it. I guess that’s what you get for spending mos**t your English lessons making out with that big ches**ted girl in the supply room.”
“Not again,” said the Hybrid. Stryke jumped back in shock and hid in the corner. “This s**tupid thing keeps on crashing!” hybrid pulled out a phone from his pocket. “Yeah hello, yeah, the thing crashed again. Ok so jus**t boot it up then! Yes of course I want the same program, ok bye.” A soldier walked in from the door and placed a s**trange black CD in a slot in the wall. A panel on the ceiling shifted to the side and a TV monitor came down to about head height suspended by wires with the word ‘loading’ written on it.
“Thank you technician,” hybrid said as the monitor displayed the words ‘loading complete’.
“You and your damn horses’” mumbled the solider as he left the room totally unaware of Stryke’s presence.
“That’s better, “said hybrid with a big smile on his face, “virtual reality commence,” and with that he froze again.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Stryke walked up to the monitor to see the words ‘VR Barbie pony ride’ on the top and the man who was in the room with him motionless also on the screen show jumping infront of a crowd. “Virtual reality, well I never.” Then he had an idea. “ if I get his jacket, some fake piercing and grow a beard maybe I could pretend to be him and sneak pas**t the guards. No that wouldn’t work, he’s like 5 foot 1. How would I fit into that jacket?” Stryke searched hybrid’s jacket pockets and pulled out the phone. “Now this gives me an idea,” after safely examining it he pushed the big red button saying ‘called technician’.
-beep – beep – beep-
“B****r its engaged, oh well I guess it’s worth a shoot. HAY GUARD!”
The guard ran in and Stryke swung the monitor hitting the guard on the head knocking him out. He searched the guard’s pockets to find a packet of silkcut cigarettes and a level one-clearance card.
“wow,” he said picking up the guards m16, “this is so co….” Boom! Boom! Booom! Boom! boom! Bullets flew everywhere while Stryke tried to take control of the firearm. After a long session of shots it finally ran out of ammo.
“Few, lucky no body heard that.” He turned to find angry newbie soldiers looking at him down their guns, “um, he he, your not going to believe this but…” Smack!
Gradually Stryke opened his eyes. Though his vision was hazy from the knock to the head he could work out he was in a grimy prison cell.
“Oh my head,” he began rubbing it but s**topped when he heard a small girlish giggle. He turned to see a voluptuous blonde wearing a lab coat next to him.
“He he, hello there,” she said waving.
“Who are you?”
“The names Schroeder, but you can call me Schro. You?”
“The names Stryke. What is this place?” Schroeder put here hand to her mouth and gasped.
“You mean your not Grix?” Stryke was about to comment when a voice came from the shadows outside the cell.
“No,” the two prisoners spring back in shock.
“wh, who’s there?” asked Schroeder.
“It’s been a long time agent Schro 005.”
“Grix?”
“Yes,” Grix s**tepped out of the darkness.
“Who’s he?” asked Stryke, “and who are you for that matter?”
“I’m Schroeder of her majes**ties secret service and this is agent Grix from the CIA. We were sent here to take down metal gore.”
“Metal what?”
“Metal gore,” added Grix, “its an undetectable nuclear missile that if not s**topped could s**tart world war 3.”
“But who are you?” asked Schroeder.
“I told you I’m s**tryke.”
“From where?”
“Huh?”
“From where? England’s agency, FBI, CIA, Russian secret service?”
“Um… Wales?”
“You mean your not here to s**top metal gear too?”
“Well no.”
“What are you doing here then” inquired Grix as he tried to unlock the cell door.
“I… um.. Well it seemed that I was jus**t… um,”
“you were the kid in the lobby weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So what are you doing here?” asked Schroeder. The cell door swung open.
“No time,” said Grix, “we have to get out of here and to the warehouse!”
“Here,” said Schroeder passing Stryke a gun, “you may need this.” The trio burs**t out of the prison and Grix cleared the hallway of guards.
“Come this way,” beckoned Grix. They ran into the elevator, “here’s what we’ll do. I have managed to find that the entrance to the warehouse is in this tower on one of two floors. I’ll go on one and you Schro go on the other with the kid.”
“hey I ain’t no kid.” Grix looked down at Stryke and raised his left eyebrow.
“Ok,” said Grix as the doors of the elevator parted, “here’s your s**top, good luck.”
The elevator doors closed and Stryke was left alone with Schroeder in a long corridor riddled with camera and another door at the end.
“Here’s the plan,” pulling out a grenade Schroeder continued, “this is a chaff grenade, it confuses electrical equipment and makes them go haywire. One of these should disarm all the cameras.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“What,” asked Schroeder.
“Nothing.”
“Ok, let’s do it. When I say go we’ll run to end of the hall.” She pulled the pin and counted to 3, “go!”
The chaff exploded with a flash of light and all the cameras faced the floor while the pair made a run for it.
“its locked.”
“Stand back,” Schroeder said. She raised here gun to the control panel at the side of the door. Bang!
With a fizz and a spark the door squeaked open. It led to a room filled with dancing girls wearing skimpy cos**tumes rubbing up and down on poles to music.
“This is the cooles**t thing I have ever seen!” drooled Stryke.
“Shush, look,” Schroeder pointed to a man in his middle ages sitting at the back of the room putting 5 pound notes into the girls underwear. “It’s Tony, the leader of the metal gore operation.”
“Tony? Hybrid? Something’s not quite right here.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Talking to yourself.”
“Sorry.”
“We have to get to Tony.”
“Why?”
“He’s got the override card for metal gore. It can s**tart up metal gore or it can shut it down depending on whether its on or off already.”
“What was that?” said Tony, “turn the music off.” All went silent and everyone turned to face the Stryke and Schroeder.
“Think of something,” whispered Schroeder.
“um… good evening lady’s and gentleman. Today for your viewing pleasure we have… um.” He turns to Schroeder looking at her lab coat, “… the s**triping scientis**t.”
“What?!” shouted Schroeder.
“Oh goodie,” clapped Tony.
“You keep them dis**tracted and I’ll try to find metal gear,” whispered Stryke.
“But, but but, how?”
“Dance and unbutton your top for a s**tart. Then get close to him and get the card,” So as Schroeder began dancing and Stryke crept out the back door.
Stryke wandered into the entrance for the warehouse 2 floors up. The place had a military look and was very big. The second floor consis**ted of a hanging walkway leading across to a set of s**teps going down. The firs**t floor had a control room and a ladder leading to metal gores cockpit.
“Hello,” ‘hello’ ‘hello’ his voice echoed, “cool” and then his eyes met with metal gore. It was the size of a house and seemed to resemble a transformer. The boss one, octo something or other (he could turn from a truck into a robot). Metal gore had a small cockpit head at the top with a main body that of the front of a truck and long s**trong legs with hydraulic pumps on the side for movement.
Each arm was packed with weaponry; the left had an enormous chain gun connected to the end and a flame-thrower attached to the elbow, the right arm was basically jus**t a hefty cannon that fired explosive charges.
“How the hell am I meant to s**top that thing? The card!” he turned back as he heard the door slam shut behind him, he tried to open it but it was locked, “why?!” no matter how much he banged on it the sound was blocked out by the music of the s**trip show and Tony’s voice saying ‘take it off, take it all off’.
“I want to go back in, please!” he s**tood there for a few moments thinking what to do. Then from the corner of his eye he saw a cleanse card slip. “What’s this? No I don’t want the card I want the girls! Damn it.” he snatched off the floor and began to try and read it, “ov, over r, r,r…”
“Sound it out.” Stryke looked down to the firs**t floor were Grix was s**tanding.
“Over r-i-d-, over ride key!”
“Well done, now pass it down here.”
“What has it already been s**tarted?”
“Yeah, quick before its too late!” though s**tryke’s reading skills are quite bad his aim is one of the bes**t you have seen. With one toss the card landed right into Grix’s hand. “Well done!”
Grix walked into the control panel and put the card into a disk drive.
[metal gore operational, s**tart up in 3… 2… 1]
“what the?!”
“ha ha ha! fool!”
“I don’t unders**tand, I thought you were a good guy.”
“Grix is a good guy, or I should say was.”
“What?” Grix pointed his gun at Stryke.
“you see I’m not Grix.” The door behind Stryke flings open and a half-dressed Schroeder runs in.
“don’t give him the key! he’s not Grix… I’m too late ain’t I?” she shouted while s**truggling to pull her skirt up.
“He’s not?”
“No I’m not!”
“Then who is he?” asked the confused Stryke.
“He’s….” before she could finish her sentence the villain butted in.
“Mr Snuggly! Hah hah!” Snuggly put his hand to the back of his head and grabbed hold of a zip. With one drag the mask fell off and he let it drop to the floor.
“Who?” said the surprised Schroeder.
“You know, the evil one.”
“Who?” repeated Schroeder.
“The iron fis**t.”
“Who?” asked Schroeder and Stryke in unison.
“The oppressor of jus**tice.”
“Wh…”
“Ok, ok. The janitor.” Snuggly looked to the floor in shame.
“Ow.”
“Who did you think it was?” Schroeder begins to blush and looks to the floor as well.
“… Neal diamond.”
“Neal diamond?! What the hell gave you that idea?!”
“Well I knew you weren’t Grix cos’ his body was found at his home and I guess I was jus**t hoping.”
“Give the man a little credit,” said Stryke sympathetically.
“Thanks, and for that I won’t kill you,”
“Yay! Cheers man,”
“Until I kill her!” Snuggly reset his aim to Schroeder and pulled the trigger.
“Noooooooooooooooo!” wailed s**tryke, “she was fit, how could you?!” Schroeder’s body over the side of the walkway and fell all the way down to the ground floor. Splat.
“Damn you! Now I won’t get that cool ending with the moose things and the snowmobile!” Snuggly raised his gun to Stryke. “Jus**t one ques**tion, why do it?”
“well it’s simple really,” said Snuggly, “ Tony was the boss but never had the guts to go through with it and set off the thing. In the end all he was interes**ted in was cars and girls.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Shush, I’m trying to reveal my plan!”
“Opps, sorry.”
“Anyway, where was I?”
“Girls and cars I think.”
“Oh yes, thanks. All he wanted where the small things in life. But I had my hopes set much higher, if we fire metal gore it will s**tart a global war as no one will know who shot it.”
“Of course. But how would that help you?”
“That’s the clever bit, you see a few years ago I inherited a little bit of money and for fun I inves**ted it in s**tocks and shares. The only problem was I they got put in the wrong company and I ended up penniless so had to s**tart sweeping floors for a living. If a war gets s**tarted, finally my s**tocks in ‘military tea cosies’ will rocket and I will be rich!”
“So that’s the plan, kill millions and get rich quick plan?”
“Yes, to bad you won’t be able to buy any. Now prepare to die!” snuggly pulls the trigger. Click. “Huh?” click. Click.
“Hah! Seems that you’re out of bullets!”
“Damn I knew I shouldn’t have played Russian-roulette with Brad earlier.” Stryke began to run toward him. “Not so fas**t Stryke. I may now be able to shot you will this gun,” Snuggly jumped into the metal gore cockpit, “but I’ll blow the sh*t out of you with my chain gun!”
“gulp.” The metal gore began to move. Firs**t the left arm wiggled about before fixing onto s**trykes position and then a small red dot appeared on his forehead.
“a s**tinger missle would be really helpful about now.” Stryke looked about, “ok then, um… bye.
The chain gun roared away.
Stryke lifts off his headset and s**teps out of the booth.
“Dawn it, game over!”
“Well?” asks the s**tore helper, “did you like it, shall I order you a copy to play at home?”
“That was so cool,” said Stryke blinking repeatedly.
“Don’t worry about that, your eyes have to get used to the light, cos’ you’ve been in VR mode since the shop opened today.”
“Yeah I’ll have a copy.”
“So that’s one copy of Metal Gore Snuggly, 39.99 please.
“There you go,” they exchange items.
“Thank you for shopping at Special Reserve the world’s leading game shop. Oh and remember to come in next week for the opening of our hundredth gamer of the year competition, this mouth you can have to race a track on GT34”
“Ok, I might. Thanks again.” Stryke hoped onto his hover moped and whizzed down the road.
“Bye.”
thanks of reading
-Linx-
He hadn’t gone far when he noticed he had taken a wrong turn.
“I knew I shouldn’t have drank so much las**t night,” he said while holding his head. Then he turned around to see what appeared to be the back of three large tower blocks Connected to a warehouse with the words ‘top-secret’ scribbled over it surrounded by a barbwire fence.
“That’s s**trange, why’d someone want to build a classified base here in Wales of all places?”
From inside the warehouse a massive explosion attracted Stryke eyes to a mushroom cloud of smoke that gushed out from the hole blown open in the roof.
“Bloody hell!” said Stryke as he jumped back dropping his money onto the floor, “no, no don’t fall down the…” plop, “drain.” He crouched down and peered between the bars to see his 50p slowly seeping down into the sewage. “That was the las**t of the milk money and I’d hate to brake into the bread money, that would jus**t cause chaos in the house hold and before you know it they’re be none left for the pot noodles. No I think I’m going to make a s**tand here. I’ll march in there and demand they give me a refund as they were the cause of this dilemma.”
In front of the gates Stryke puffed up his ches**t and pushed the intercom button.
“Hello?” said an old shriveled voice.
“Hay there,” he said I a deep manly voice, “I’d like to see the manager… please.”
“Why?”
“He owes me some, money”
“You to huh? Come on in,” the big metal gates slowly creaked open and Stryke began walking the path down to the tower blocks. Once he got to the entrance he paused, took a deep breath and pushed open the double glass doors with his head held high. Inside it resembled an old-fashioned hotel lobby, it was quite small and had decorative paper on the walls. An old woman s**tood behind a desk with a bell and behind her was a wall full of pigeonholes along with a few letters.
“Hello love,” she said.
“Um hi.”
“You want to see the boss then?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I, um,” the old woman turned to the left to see a door open and a man in a porters suit walk through, “I don’t think you can do that,” the woman’s voice was full of fear. Stryke noticed a metallic object hidden in the porter’s hand.
“Is there a problem sir?” asked the porter.
“Yeah, I was walking down the road and I heard and explosion coming from that warehouse over there,” explained Stryke.
“Sir I can assure you there was no explosion.”
“There was! It made me lose my milk money.”
The porter placed his hand to his ear, “ u-hu, yeah, yeah, ok, I’ll tell him that.” The porter cleared his throat and looked Stryke in the eye, “ sorry about this sir, how much was it?”
“50” said Stryke in a small voice.
“50? You mean 50p?”
“Um, no… 50 quid.”
“For milk?!”
“Yeah, I’m a, a… a milk man, yeah that’s it. Gotta buy lots of milk.”
“How did you lose 50 pounds?”
“It rolled down the drain.”
“You had 50 pounds in coins and they all fell down the drain?”
“…………..yes.”
“Are you sure love?” asked the old woman.
“Well, um…”
“No,” said the porter.
Stryke looked down at the floor, “no.” The porter reached into his suit pocket and produced a pound.
“Don’t spend it all at once, there’s a good lad.” He flicked the coin to s**tryke’s feet. As Stryke bent down to pick it up when he noticed the item hidden in the porter’s hand was a small gun.
“What the hell is that?!” s**tryke pointed to the gun. The porter put his hand to his ear.
“Code red, code red!” he revealed the gun and gripped it in his hand, “sorry about this sir.”
Stryke dived to the side and rolled behind the desk as several shots were fired from the pis**tol.
“Its nothing personal sir, its jus**t my job.”
“Should of s**tayed at home, should of s**tayed at…” Stryke’s trail of though was blocked by the sight of the old lady’s corpse lying next to him with a bullet hole in her skull.
“Come out sir.”
“But your gonna kill me!”
“There is that, but come on I’m not a bad person.”
“Really,” he kept the porter talking while trying to unzip his bag, once opened he began to search through for an item that could get him out of this jam.
“Golf ball, lucky penny, maximum magazine, walkie-talkies or a… wait a minute!” he took one of the handsets and tosses it to the porters feet.
“…And then my mother said I wasn’t ready for… what’s this?” the porter picked up the handset and began to inspect it.
“Take this you little!” with one swift movement Stryke turned up the volume and pressed down on the transmitter button. The porter s**tared at the walkie-talkie as it begins to make a fuzzing sound.
“Ha ha! Is that it?”
“Opps, wait s**tay there,” Stryke then changed the frequency and a screeching deafening sound came out of the porters secluded earpiece.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!! What have you done?!” with that dis**traction our small welsh hero grabbed his bag and ran out of the doors to safety jus**t as soldiers burs**t into the room from the side exit knocking the porter over.
“That’s jus**t great. I left the pound inside. Well I ain’t leaving without my money.” he peeped through the window to see the whole room filled with armed men. “Damn it! I have to get back inside some how. No one tries to kill me and gets away with it, apart from my mum of course but she did she tripped when she pushed me infront of that car.”
Using his intuition, skill, determination and the unlocked back door he managed to penetrate the building. Stryke scanned the small room to see a door infront of him and a s**tairway to the right.
“eni meni minei…”
“hay, what was that noise” said a voice from the top of the s**tairs.
“mow!” Stryke dashed though the door jus**t as a guard came down the s**tairs. Stryke pressed agains**t the door and shut his eyes.
“uh,” said the guard as he went back to his pos**t.
“That voice, so familiar,” Stryke shook his head, “no it couldn’t be. Anyway, I have to get my money!” he opened his eyes. “aahhhhhhh! No wait, he’s not moving.” In amazement Stryke walked up to the man that seemed to be connected to the wall and poked him.
“well I’ll be damned! Look at this,” s**tryke began feeling the wires that were connected to the headset the man was wearing. He was in a slot in the wall in a blank white room with a headset connected to his eyes, ears and temples. “hey what’s this,” he looked at the nametag on the mans white lab jacket, “hybrid v, v, va, val, va. It’s no use! With out my spell checker and my mum I jus**t can’t read it. I guess that’s what you get for spending mos**t your English lessons making out with that big ches**ted girl in the supply room.”
“Not again,” said the Hybrid. Stryke jumped back in shock and hid in the corner. “This s**tupid thing keeps on crashing!” hybrid pulled out a phone from his pocket. “Yeah hello, yeah, the thing crashed again. Ok so jus**t boot it up then! Yes of course I want the same program, ok bye.” A soldier walked in from the door and placed a s**trange black CD in a slot in the wall. A panel on the ceiling shifted to the side and a TV monitor came down to about head height suspended by wires with the word ‘loading’ written on it.
“Thank you technician,” hybrid said as the monitor displayed the words ‘loading complete’.
“You and your damn horses’” mumbled the solider as he left the room totally unaware of Stryke’s presence.
“That’s better, “said hybrid with a big smile on his face, “virtual reality commence,” and with that he froze again.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Stryke walked up to the monitor to see the words ‘VR Barbie pony ride’ on the top and the man who was in the room with him motionless also on the screen show jumping infront of a crowd. “Virtual reality, well I never.” Then he had an idea. “ if I get his jacket, some fake piercing and grow a beard maybe I could pretend to be him and sneak pas**t the guards. No that wouldn’t work, he’s like 5 foot 1. How would I fit into that jacket?” Stryke searched hybrid’s jacket pockets and pulled out the phone. “Now this gives me an idea,” after safely examining it he pushed the big red button saying ‘called technician’.
-beep – beep – beep-
“B****r its engaged, oh well I guess it’s worth a shoot. HAY GUARD!”
The guard ran in and Stryke swung the monitor hitting the guard on the head knocking him out. He searched the guard’s pockets to find a packet of silkcut cigarettes and a level one-clearance card.
“wow,” he said picking up the guards m16, “this is so co….” Boom! Boom! Booom! Boom! boom! Bullets flew everywhere while Stryke tried to take control of the firearm. After a long session of shots it finally ran out of ammo.
“Few, lucky no body heard that.” He turned to find angry newbie soldiers looking at him down their guns, “um, he he, your not going to believe this but…” Smack!
Gradually Stryke opened his eyes. Though his vision was hazy from the knock to the head he could work out he was in a grimy prison cell.
“Oh my head,” he began rubbing it but s**topped when he heard a small girlish giggle. He turned to see a voluptuous blonde wearing a lab coat next to him.
“He he, hello there,” she said waving.
“Who are you?”
“The names Schroeder, but you can call me Schro. You?”
“The names Stryke. What is this place?” Schroeder put here hand to her mouth and gasped.
“You mean your not Grix?” Stryke was about to comment when a voice came from the shadows outside the cell.
“No,” the two prisoners spring back in shock.
“wh, who’s there?” asked Schroeder.
“It’s been a long time agent Schro 005.”
“Grix?”
“Yes,” Grix s**tepped out of the darkness.
“Who’s he?” asked Stryke, “and who are you for that matter?”
“I’m Schroeder of her majes**ties secret service and this is agent Grix from the CIA. We were sent here to take down metal gore.”
“Metal what?”
“Metal gore,” added Grix, “its an undetectable nuclear missile that if not s**topped could s**tart world war 3.”
“But who are you?” asked Schroeder.
“I told you I’m s**tryke.”
“From where?”
“Huh?”
“From where? England’s agency, FBI, CIA, Russian secret service?”
“Um… Wales?”
“You mean your not here to s**top metal gear too?”
“Well no.”
“What are you doing here then” inquired Grix as he tried to unlock the cell door.
“I… um.. Well it seemed that I was jus**t… um,”
“you were the kid in the lobby weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So what are you doing here?” asked Schroeder. The cell door swung open.
“No time,” said Grix, “we have to get out of here and to the warehouse!”
“Here,” said Schroeder passing Stryke a gun, “you may need this.” The trio burs**t out of the prison and Grix cleared the hallway of guards.
“Come this way,” beckoned Grix. They ran into the elevator, “here’s what we’ll do. I have managed to find that the entrance to the warehouse is in this tower on one of two floors. I’ll go on one and you Schro go on the other with the kid.”
“hey I ain’t no kid.” Grix looked down at Stryke and raised his left eyebrow.
“Ok,” said Grix as the doors of the elevator parted, “here’s your s**top, good luck.”
The elevator doors closed and Stryke was left alone with Schroeder in a long corridor riddled with camera and another door at the end.
“Here’s the plan,” pulling out a grenade Schroeder continued, “this is a chaff grenade, it confuses electrical equipment and makes them go haywire. One of these should disarm all the cameras.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“What,” asked Schroeder.
“Nothing.”
“Ok, let’s do it. When I say go we’ll run to end of the hall.” She pulled the pin and counted to 3, “go!”
The chaff exploded with a flash of light and all the cameras faced the floor while the pair made a run for it.
“its locked.”
“Stand back,” Schroeder said. She raised here gun to the control panel at the side of the door. Bang!
With a fizz and a spark the door squeaked open. It led to a room filled with dancing girls wearing skimpy cos**tumes rubbing up and down on poles to music.
“This is the cooles**t thing I have ever seen!” drooled Stryke.
“Shush, look,” Schroeder pointed to a man in his middle ages sitting at the back of the room putting 5 pound notes into the girls underwear. “It’s Tony, the leader of the metal gore operation.”
“Tony? Hybrid? Something’s not quite right here.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Talking to yourself.”
“Sorry.”
“We have to get to Tony.”
“Why?”
“He’s got the override card for metal gore. It can s**tart up metal gore or it can shut it down depending on whether its on or off already.”
“What was that?” said Tony, “turn the music off.” All went silent and everyone turned to face the Stryke and Schroeder.
“Think of something,” whispered Schroeder.
“um… good evening lady’s and gentleman. Today for your viewing pleasure we have… um.” He turns to Schroeder looking at her lab coat, “… the s**triping scientis**t.”
“What?!” shouted Schroeder.
“Oh goodie,” clapped Tony.
“You keep them dis**tracted and I’ll try to find metal gear,” whispered Stryke.
“But, but but, how?”
“Dance and unbutton your top for a s**tart. Then get close to him and get the card,” So as Schroeder began dancing and Stryke crept out the back door.
Stryke wandered into the entrance for the warehouse 2 floors up. The place had a military look and was very big. The second floor consis**ted of a hanging walkway leading across to a set of s**teps going down. The firs**t floor had a control room and a ladder leading to metal gores cockpit.
“Hello,” ‘hello’ ‘hello’ his voice echoed, “cool” and then his eyes met with metal gore. It was the size of a house and seemed to resemble a transformer. The boss one, octo something or other (he could turn from a truck into a robot). Metal gore had a small cockpit head at the top with a main body that of the front of a truck and long s**trong legs with hydraulic pumps on the side for movement.
Each arm was packed with weaponry; the left had an enormous chain gun connected to the end and a flame-thrower attached to the elbow, the right arm was basically jus**t a hefty cannon that fired explosive charges.
“How the hell am I meant to s**top that thing? The card!” he turned back as he heard the door slam shut behind him, he tried to open it but it was locked, “why?!” no matter how much he banged on it the sound was blocked out by the music of the s**trip show and Tony’s voice saying ‘take it off, take it all off’.
“I want to go back in, please!” he s**tood there for a few moments thinking what to do. Then from the corner of his eye he saw a cleanse card slip. “What’s this? No I don’t want the card I want the girls! Damn it.” he snatched off the floor and began to try and read it, “ov, over r, r,r…”
“Sound it out.” Stryke looked down to the firs**t floor were Grix was s**tanding.
“Over r-i-d-, over ride key!”
“Well done, now pass it down here.”
“What has it already been s**tarted?”
“Yeah, quick before its too late!” though s**tryke’s reading skills are quite bad his aim is one of the bes**t you have seen. With one toss the card landed right into Grix’s hand. “Well done!”
Grix walked into the control panel and put the card into a disk drive.
[metal gore operational, s**tart up in 3… 2… 1]
“what the?!”
“ha ha ha! fool!”
“I don’t unders**tand, I thought you were a good guy.”
“Grix is a good guy, or I should say was.”
“What?” Grix pointed his gun at Stryke.
“you see I’m not Grix.” The door behind Stryke flings open and a half-dressed Schroeder runs in.
“don’t give him the key! he’s not Grix… I’m too late ain’t I?” she shouted while s**truggling to pull her skirt up.
“He’s not?”
“No I’m not!”
“Then who is he?” asked the confused Stryke.
“He’s….” before she could finish her sentence the villain butted in.
“Mr Snuggly! Hah hah!” Snuggly put his hand to the back of his head and grabbed hold of a zip. With one drag the mask fell off and he let it drop to the floor.
“Who?” said the surprised Schroeder.
“You know, the evil one.”
“Who?” repeated Schroeder.
“The iron fis**t.”
“Who?” asked Schroeder and Stryke in unison.
“The oppressor of jus**tice.”
“Wh…”
“Ok, ok. The janitor.” Snuggly looked to the floor in shame.
“Ow.”
“Who did you think it was?” Schroeder begins to blush and looks to the floor as well.
“… Neal diamond.”
“Neal diamond?! What the hell gave you that idea?!”
“Well I knew you weren’t Grix cos’ his body was found at his home and I guess I was jus**t hoping.”
“Give the man a little credit,” said Stryke sympathetically.
“Thanks, and for that I won’t kill you,”
“Yay! Cheers man,”
“Until I kill her!” Snuggly reset his aim to Schroeder and pulled the trigger.
“Noooooooooooooooo!” wailed s**tryke, “she was fit, how could you?!” Schroeder’s body over the side of the walkway and fell all the way down to the ground floor. Splat.
“Damn you! Now I won’t get that cool ending with the moose things and the snowmobile!” Snuggly raised his gun to Stryke. “Jus**t one ques**tion, why do it?”
“well it’s simple really,” said Snuggly, “ Tony was the boss but never had the guts to go through with it and set off the thing. In the end all he was interes**ted in was cars and girls.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Shush, I’m trying to reveal my plan!”
“Opps, sorry.”
“Anyway, where was I?”
“Girls and cars I think.”
“Oh yes, thanks. All he wanted where the small things in life. But I had my hopes set much higher, if we fire metal gore it will s**tart a global war as no one will know who shot it.”
“Of course. But how would that help you?”
“That’s the clever bit, you see a few years ago I inherited a little bit of money and for fun I inves**ted it in s**tocks and shares. The only problem was I they got put in the wrong company and I ended up penniless so had to s**tart sweeping floors for a living. If a war gets s**tarted, finally my s**tocks in ‘military tea cosies’ will rocket and I will be rich!”
“So that’s the plan, kill millions and get rich quick plan?”
“Yes, to bad you won’t be able to buy any. Now prepare to die!” snuggly pulls the trigger. Click. “Huh?” click. Click.
“Hah! Seems that you’re out of bullets!”
“Damn I knew I shouldn’t have played Russian-roulette with Brad earlier.” Stryke began to run toward him. “Not so fas**t Stryke. I may now be able to shot you will this gun,” Snuggly jumped into the metal gore cockpit, “but I’ll blow the sh*t out of you with my chain gun!”
“gulp.” The metal gore began to move. Firs**t the left arm wiggled about before fixing onto s**trykes position and then a small red dot appeared on his forehead.
“a s**tinger missle would be really helpful about now.” Stryke looked about, “ok then, um… bye.
The chain gun roared away.
Stryke lifts off his headset and s**teps out of the booth.
“Dawn it, game over!”
“Well?” asks the s**tore helper, “did you like it, shall I order you a copy to play at home?”
“That was so cool,” said Stryke blinking repeatedly.
“Don’t worry about that, your eyes have to get used to the light, cos’ you’ve been in VR mode since the shop opened today.”
“Yeah I’ll have a copy.”
“So that’s one copy of Metal Gore Snuggly, 39.99 please.
“There you go,” they exchange items.
“Thank you for shopping at Special Reserve the world’s leading game shop. Oh and remember to come in next week for the opening of our hundredth gamer of the year competition, this mouth you can have to race a track on GT34”
“Ok, I might. Thanks again.” Stryke hoped onto his hover moped and whizzed down the road.
“Bye.”
thanks of reading
-Linx-