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"There's not enough room in this forum for the two of us." FM slammed his emptied whisky glass down on the wooden counter. "Step outside, Grix......"
Grix eyed FM carefully. They'd known each other for a long time, but things had been gettin' a little strained lately."
"What's this about, FM," he demanded, making his way through the packed but hushed saloon and pushing the swinging doors outwards as he stepped onto the dusty ground outside.
"Well," replied FM, pushing open the doors again and following Grix outside into the hot, dry air, "You've bushwhacked one of my topics just one time too many. It's time we had this out. Mano a Mano. Poster to Poster."
Grix paused in his stride to think of a witty retort about FM's last comment, then decided that now was probably not the time.
"So, what's it to be? 10 paces, turn and fire?" asked Grix, making sure his gunbelt was fastened properly.
"You know me better than that, Grix. 30 paces." FM checked his gunbelt. The Smith and Wesson 6-shot revolver hung loosely at his right hip.
They stood back to back under the glare of the midday sun, and started to count.....
1....2....3....
The occupants of the saloon were packing the windows trying to get a glimpse of the showdown outside. This was unheard of. The last shootout in the town of Last Chance Reserve had been quite a time ago, when the Er-no posse had cleaned out the Desperate Dans, but this was different. Two equally matched opponents were about to face off.
Insane Bartender was going even more nuts behind the saloon's counter because he was losing good sales whilst all this was going on.
Outside, the count was at 25.... as FM glanced to his right and saw PB on the roof of the Red Splat Hotel and Boarding House, shotgun at hand. PB nodded with a knowing look. FM nodded back.
The count was 26.... as Grix looked across to the SR Saddlery, where he spied Sniper with his trusty Winchester Rifle. Grix gave a brief nod. Sniper returned it.
27....28...29..
Dust whirled up as both men spun to face each other. The blast of PB's shotgun firing both barrels broke the deafening silence that preceeded it, and a cloud of sand flew up at Grix's feet as the buckshot ploughed into the ground.
Grix drew his gun and took aim, FM was still drawing his because he was left handed and his belt was on the wrong way, Sniper fired his rifle, and there was a sharp report, then a clatter as PB dropped his shotgun and swandived off the roof of the hotel and landed in a horse trough.
FM grappled with his pistol, it had snagged in the holster, and he reminded himself to be more careful where he left his chewing gum.
Grix took pity. (No he didn't). Grix fired his gun. Fortunately, FM and done his research and Grix's eyesight wasn't as good as it should have been, and at 30 paces it was like trying to read a Wanted Poster through a mirage. Grix's first bullet flew out of town faster than a newbie Gameaday winner. He wasn't sure if he had hit FM or not, but then he heard FM pull back the hammer of his Smith and Wesson with a
*click*
Grix eyed FM carefully. They'd known each other for a long time, but things had been gettin' a little strained lately."
"What's this about, FM," he demanded, making his way through the packed but hushed saloon and pushing the swinging doors outwards as he stepped onto the dusty ground outside.
"Well," replied FM, pushing open the doors again and following Grix outside into the hot, dry air, "You've bushwhacked one of my topics just one time too many. It's time we had this out. Mano a Mano. Poster to Poster."
Grix paused in his stride to think of a witty retort about FM's last comment, then decided that now was probably not the time.
"So, what's it to be? 10 paces, turn and fire?" asked Grix, making sure his gunbelt was fastened properly.
"You know me better than that, Grix. 30 paces." FM checked his gunbelt. The Smith and Wesson 6-shot revolver hung loosely at his right hip.
They stood back to back under the glare of the midday sun, and started to count.....
1....2....3....
The occupants of the saloon were packing the windows trying to get a glimpse of the showdown outside. This was unheard of. The last shootout in the town of Last Chance Reserve had been quite a time ago, when the Er-no posse had cleaned out the Desperate Dans, but this was different. Two equally matched opponents were about to face off.
Insane Bartender was going even more nuts behind the saloon's counter because he was losing good sales whilst all this was going on.
Outside, the count was at 25.... as FM glanced to his right and saw PB on the roof of the Red Splat Hotel and Boarding House, shotgun at hand. PB nodded with a knowing look. FM nodded back.
The count was 26.... as Grix looked across to the SR Saddlery, where he spied Sniper with his trusty Winchester Rifle. Grix gave a brief nod. Sniper returned it.
27....28...29..
Dust whirled up as both men spun to face each other. The blast of PB's shotgun firing both barrels broke the deafening silence that preceeded it, and a cloud of sand flew up at Grix's feet as the buckshot ploughed into the ground.
Grix drew his gun and took aim, FM was still drawing his because he was left handed and his belt was on the wrong way, Sniper fired his rifle, and there was a sharp report, then a clatter as PB dropped his shotgun and swandived off the roof of the hotel and landed in a horse trough.
FM grappled with his pistol, it had snagged in the holster, and he reminded himself to be more careful where he left his chewing gum.
Grix took pity. (No he didn't). Grix fired his gun. Fortunately, FM and done his research and Grix's eyesight wasn't as good as it should have been, and at 30 paces it was like trying to read a Wanted Poster through a mirage. Grix's first bullet flew out of town faster than a newbie Gameaday winner. He wasn't sure if he had hit FM or not, but then he heard FM pull back the hammer of his Smith and Wesson with a
*click*
Page:
The authors had totally lost it by now.
Ant was shaking his staff, PB was nowhere to be seen, and Grix was firing off storylines in all directions like a five-year-old trying to draw the picture on the roof of the Cistine Chapel with a VERY fat crayon.
FM didn't know what to do, one minute he was buying guns, the next he was applying pressure to Meka's wound, the next minute Grix and his brain were having a standooff in a triangle with circles at each corner.
He'd had enough. The time was ripe for yet ANOTHER storyline to creep into the thread.
He lowered his hands to the keyboard, his mind drifting, and he began to type....
-----
"Who am I up against on the island?" asked Grix Snake, speaking as if to himself.
Commander Ali's voice came through on the transmitter.
"Sniper Wilf. Trained by the Russians, but still likely to pee in the kitchen now and again because their house training isn't all that good. A crack shot with a rifle, a marksman without equal, can't spell expeditious to safe his life.
Revolver Antalot. Favoured weapon, the sugar bomb. Hi-intellect, 6 legs, and antennae that you'd be wise not to come into contact with. Specialises in torturing his victims with WWF wrestling stories and tickling.
RavenBillySkank. A genetically enhanced warrior from the Ganja tribe of southern california. A master of different accents, lethal with a joint, and prefers to drive a tank rather than a Ford Focus when driving to work.
Psycho Meka. He can read your mind, he can transport his vision into your brain to see where you are and what you are doing. Wears a gas mask at all times, some believe it's to hid his face because they say he looks like a character out of Star Wars, others because he has to change nappies a lot."
"Is that it? Just those four?" Grix Snake was looking forward to this, it would be a breeze.
"Just one more...," Commander Ali's voice paused.
"Well?"
"It's your brother, Grix, the leader of the terrorists..."
"You don't mean...?"
"Yes, your brother, Liquid Meister. He's the leader of the gang who have taken over the X-Box production facitity on Shadow Moses Island. They are threatening to put the X-Box into full production."
"They must be stopped!!" Grix stood up in a rage. "That would mean the end of all that is Ninty!!"
"We know, that is why they called for the best. But he was on holiday in Scunthorpe, so we got you."
"Thanks..."
"No problem. Grix Snake, you mission is simple, infiltrate the X-Box facitlity on Shadow Moses Island, get what information you can from the terrorists, and if necessary....eliminate them."
Grix smiled. "All weapons and equipment OSP?"
"Yes, on site procurement, pick them up as you go along."
"And what if I'm DOA at the XBC on SMI and you have to SOS the FBI or the CIA to RMA?"
"Eh?"
"Er, never mind.
"Ok, Grix Snake, get down to the torpedoe room, we're going to fire you out of the submarine towards Shadow Moses Island inside one of our torpedoes, which will let you out about one quarter of a mile out in the freezing artcic waters, then you'll have to swim the rest of the way."
"YOU WHAT!!!!!!!"
"Didn't I tell you about that bit?"
"NO!!"
The intercom went dead with a
*click*
Ant was shaking his staff, PB was nowhere to be seen, and Grix was firing off storylines in all directions like a five-year-old trying to draw the picture on the roof of the Cistine Chapel with a VERY fat crayon.
FM didn't know what to do, one minute he was buying guns, the next he was applying pressure to Meka's wound, the next minute Grix and his brain were having a standooff in a triangle with circles at each corner.
He'd had enough. The time was ripe for yet ANOTHER storyline to creep into the thread.
He lowered his hands to the keyboard, his mind drifting, and he began to type....
-----
"Who am I up against on the island?" asked Grix Snake, speaking as if to himself.
Commander Ali's voice came through on the transmitter.
"Sniper Wilf. Trained by the Russians, but still likely to pee in the kitchen now and again because their house training isn't all that good. A crack shot with a rifle, a marksman without equal, can't spell expeditious to safe his life.
Revolver Antalot. Favoured weapon, the sugar bomb. Hi-intellect, 6 legs, and antennae that you'd be wise not to come into contact with. Specialises in torturing his victims with WWF wrestling stories and tickling.
RavenBillySkank. A genetically enhanced warrior from the Ganja tribe of southern california. A master of different accents, lethal with a joint, and prefers to drive a tank rather than a Ford Focus when driving to work.
Psycho Meka. He can read your mind, he can transport his vision into your brain to see where you are and what you are doing. Wears a gas mask at all times, some believe it's to hid his face because they say he looks like a character out of Star Wars, others because he has to change nappies a lot."
"Is that it? Just those four?" Grix Snake was looking forward to this, it would be a breeze.
"Just one more...," Commander Ali's voice paused.
"Well?"
"It's your brother, Grix, the leader of the terrorists..."
"You don't mean...?"
"Yes, your brother, Liquid Meister. He's the leader of the gang who have taken over the X-Box production facitity on Shadow Moses Island. They are threatening to put the X-Box into full production."
"They must be stopped!!" Grix stood up in a rage. "That would mean the end of all that is Ninty!!"
"We know, that is why they called for the best. But he was on holiday in Scunthorpe, so we got you."
"Thanks..."
"No problem. Grix Snake, you mission is simple, infiltrate the X-Box facitlity on Shadow Moses Island, get what information you can from the terrorists, and if necessary....eliminate them."
Grix smiled. "All weapons and equipment OSP?"
"Yes, on site procurement, pick them up as you go along."
"And what if I'm DOA at the XBC on SMI and you have to SOS the FBI or the CIA to RMA?"
"Eh?"
"Er, never mind.
"Ok, Grix Snake, get down to the torpedoe room, we're going to fire you out of the submarine towards Shadow Moses Island inside one of our torpedoes, which will let you out about one quarter of a mile out in the freezing artcic waters, then you'll have to swim the rest of the way."
"YOU WHAT!!!!!!!"
"Didn't I tell you about that bit?"
"NO!!"
The intercom went dead with a
*click*
Ant was panicking, not sure what to do. Should he help Meka??? Should he help Grix??
No. Grix had to deal with that. Alone.
Ant was about to go and see Meka, when the a sharp breeze blew, and a voice in the air said, "Ant.....Aaaannntt, the Staff....use The Staff..."
Ant looked at his Staff, and picked it up. It tingled in his hand.
Ant felt himself become stronger, as the Staff seemingly became brighter.....
Then, the Staff shot out of his hand, and seemed to begin....taking in power.
The wind was blowing so hard-it was like a Hurricane!! Trees were pulled out from their roots, buildings were brought down, and all the remains seemed to be.....sucked into the Staff.
There was a flash of lightning, and Ant was thrown straight into the wall of a still-standing building.
The Staff began to shake, so much power!!
No. Grix had to deal with that. Alone.
Ant was about to go and see Meka, when the a sharp breeze blew, and a voice in the air said, "Ant.....Aaaannntt, the Staff....use The Staff..."
Ant looked at his Staff, and picked it up. It tingled in his hand.
Ant felt himself become stronger, as the Staff seemingly became brighter.....
Then, the Staff shot out of his hand, and seemed to begin....taking in power.
The wind was blowing so hard-it was like a Hurricane!! Trees were pulled out from their roots, buildings were brought down, and all the remains seemed to be.....sucked into the Staff.
There was a flash of lightning, and Ant was thrown straight into the wall of a still-standing building.
The Staff began to shake, so much power!!
The crowd watched... stunned.
Sniper took aim on the roof, unaware that anything remotely different had happened, and aimed for FantasyMeister's head...
Odd. FantasyMeister did seem a hell of a distance away through the telescopic lens... and the grip seemed really uncomfortable as well.
Sniper pushed the trigger.
----------------------------
"So what do we do now?"
"I'm not sure..." Grix answered. "There is one rather large problem though..."
"What?" Asked Ant.
"The sand. It's still black."
Jake had noticed... "And I'm still here..."
Ant hadn't. "So, what does that mean?"
"It means that we haven't gone back in time... in my mind. The evil one is still here, but where..."
"As I said," Grix's brain crossed the sands from the bar to where they stood, "It's the last day. Get yourselves ready."
Pb, Venombyte, FantasyMeister and Ant decided to go and buy some guns. Grix, Jake, his brain and the second Grix went to the room above the bar...
-----------------
Grix examined the handheld computer... it had shown it's power today. It will be a huge help tommorrow. Strange. The only thing that has actually gone right in his time here...
Grix looked through the menus of the system. There had to be something that could help him...
Grix tipped forward his black hat. He couldn't see anything that would be that helpful...
Grix looked outside.
A hanging... a makeshift gallows had been set up, tied to a tree. A horse stood underneath.
Grix thought as the crowd gathered. There was Tony... Edgy... all of the townfolk were there.
But who was going to be hanged?
Grix's brain was drawing some sort of diagram. A triangle with three circles at the corner... each with a little drawing inside.
He put the drawing down, and began to watch the proceedings outside.
He began to draw a creature inside the triangle.
The second Grix was cleaning his gun... he obviously wanted to go out fighting.
Jake watched the crowd outside too...
It started to rain outside... yet again. The crowd didn't seem bothered.
Ant, FantasyMeister, Pb and Venombyte walked out of the shop, each sporting a new gun. Sheepy waved from the window, and then counted his dollars.
Grix blinked.
Night came.
A horse neighed in the distance... Grix looked to where it came from. A wagon was being pulled by two horses.
It stopped near the tree... Sheriff Meka was driving.
"What the hell...?" Jake looked outside, and watched as Meka got off the wagon, and opened a door, and pulled someone out...
It was the preacher. Masala.
"Oh God..." Jake said... "What the hell is he doing!"
They watched in horror as a smiling Masala was led towards the tree...
Grix's brain watched... silent.
"This isn't supposed to happen." He said. "Tommorrow. Tommorrow is when we fight."
Jake looked at the clock, five past twelve... "It is tommorrow."
--------------
Time slowed.
Meka pushed Masala's head through the loop hole in the rope... Masalas hands were tied...
Ant, FM, Venombyte and Pb had noticed now... they kept their hands near there guns as they watched... wanting to stop it, but intrigued to see what would happen...
Meka stood to Masala's height... and went to place a black cloth over his head...
Masala's eyes went red, and broke the rope around his hands. His arms swung forward, and grabbed Meka's neck.
Pb drew, as did FM... they fired... but seemed to keep missing...
There was a bang... and Masala's head snapped back... Meka fell to the floor.
---------
"Good shot." Grix said, with a hint of sadness in his voice.
Jake ignored the comment. "Why the hell didn't he do as I said!"
He ran out of the room. The rest followed him.
---------
Time slowed again.
Venombyte ran in... and pulled Meka away.
Masala got up... and drew his gun.
FantasyMeister took sharp aim... the sight was directly in line Masala...
He shot.
The bullet whizzed past Masala...
Masala fired his gun... it hit Meka between the shoulders.
Venombyte let go of Meka... he closed his eyes...
He ran to the wall of a house, and was sick.
Jake ran over to Meka, picked him up, and ran inside a house.
Tony edged himself agaisnt the wall. He found a door, and ran inside.
The gang ran inside to help Meka...
Time resumed.
Grix, his brain, and the second Grix walked out together.
They stood in a triangle, and walked towards Masala.
"THE FIGHTER, THE WATCHER, AND THE THINKER, THE THREE." Masala spoke with an echoing voice...
"We are here to kill you Masala. You cannot win agaisnt us combined." Grix spoke calmly...
"NO, I CANNOT."
Grix smiled.
"BUT I CAN'T BE DEFEATED IF THE THREE AREN'T UNITED."
The second Grix lay his hand on his gun...
Grix's sixth sense tingled... something... behind him...
The second Grix pulled out his gun... Grix turned, and punched him in the face... the gun fell to the sand. Grix sat on the second Grix, and punched him repeatedly.
*click*
Grix looked up. Grix's brain aimed the gun at him.
"Oh dear. That's you up crap creek, isn't it?" He said.
"...But why? Why kill me?" Grix asked...
"The first one out of this dump, controls the body."
A frown appeared on Grix's face.
------------------------
"Why didn't you do what I said? Why didn't you do it!"
Meka lay on the table... taking his final breathes...
"I thought... it would help..."
"You silly idiot..."
FantasyMeister applied pressure on the wound, but it seemed hopeless.
Pb walked forward...
"Grix said that this would be important."
Pb held out his hand, and opened it.
The musical pocket watch.
Jake looked at the watch... he started to cry...
Pb turned to leave the room... the rest walked out, following Pb.
-----------------------
"We have to stick together!" Grix pleaded as Grix's brain held the gun to his head.
"I can't stand just watching anymore. I need to be able to walk, to control."
"But if we let Masala walk away, we're as good as dead anyway! There won't be a body to control!"
Grix's brain thought about this...
"The only reason we're attacking one another is so Masala can control the mind himself! He's got too much of a grip now! We have to stop him!"
Grix's brain dropped the gun.
"Ok... let's get rid of him... And THEN we'll finish this."
Well. It was better than dead.
Sniper took aim on the roof, unaware that anything remotely different had happened, and aimed for FantasyMeister's head...
Odd. FantasyMeister did seem a hell of a distance away through the telescopic lens... and the grip seemed really uncomfortable as well.
Sniper pushed the trigger.
----------------------------
"So what do we do now?"
"I'm not sure..." Grix answered. "There is one rather large problem though..."
"What?" Asked Ant.
"The sand. It's still black."
Jake had noticed... "And I'm still here..."
Ant hadn't. "So, what does that mean?"
"It means that we haven't gone back in time... in my mind. The evil one is still here, but where..."
"As I said," Grix's brain crossed the sands from the bar to where they stood, "It's the last day. Get yourselves ready."
Pb, Venombyte, FantasyMeister and Ant decided to go and buy some guns. Grix, Jake, his brain and the second Grix went to the room above the bar...
-----------------
Grix examined the handheld computer... it had shown it's power today. It will be a huge help tommorrow. Strange. The only thing that has actually gone right in his time here...
Grix looked through the menus of the system. There had to be something that could help him...
Grix tipped forward his black hat. He couldn't see anything that would be that helpful...
Grix looked outside.
A hanging... a makeshift gallows had been set up, tied to a tree. A horse stood underneath.
Grix thought as the crowd gathered. There was Tony... Edgy... all of the townfolk were there.
But who was going to be hanged?
Grix's brain was drawing some sort of diagram. A triangle with three circles at the corner... each with a little drawing inside.
He put the drawing down, and began to watch the proceedings outside.
He began to draw a creature inside the triangle.
The second Grix was cleaning his gun... he obviously wanted to go out fighting.
Jake watched the crowd outside too...
It started to rain outside... yet again. The crowd didn't seem bothered.
Ant, FantasyMeister, Pb and Venombyte walked out of the shop, each sporting a new gun. Sheepy waved from the window, and then counted his dollars.
Grix blinked.
Night came.
A horse neighed in the distance... Grix looked to where it came from. A wagon was being pulled by two horses.
It stopped near the tree... Sheriff Meka was driving.
"What the hell...?" Jake looked outside, and watched as Meka got off the wagon, and opened a door, and pulled someone out...
It was the preacher. Masala.
"Oh God..." Jake said... "What the hell is he doing!"
They watched in horror as a smiling Masala was led towards the tree...
Grix's brain watched... silent.
"This isn't supposed to happen." He said. "Tommorrow. Tommorrow is when we fight."
Jake looked at the clock, five past twelve... "It is tommorrow."
--------------
Time slowed.
Meka pushed Masala's head through the loop hole in the rope... Masalas hands were tied...
Ant, FM, Venombyte and Pb had noticed now... they kept their hands near there guns as they watched... wanting to stop it, but intrigued to see what would happen...
Meka stood to Masala's height... and went to place a black cloth over his head...
Masala's eyes went red, and broke the rope around his hands. His arms swung forward, and grabbed Meka's neck.
Pb drew, as did FM... they fired... but seemed to keep missing...
There was a bang... and Masala's head snapped back... Meka fell to the floor.
---------
"Good shot." Grix said, with a hint of sadness in his voice.
Jake ignored the comment. "Why the hell didn't he do as I said!"
He ran out of the room. The rest followed him.
---------
Time slowed again.
Venombyte ran in... and pulled Meka away.
Masala got up... and drew his gun.
FantasyMeister took sharp aim... the sight was directly in line Masala...
He shot.
The bullet whizzed past Masala...
Masala fired his gun... it hit Meka between the shoulders.
Venombyte let go of Meka... he closed his eyes...
He ran to the wall of a house, and was sick.
Jake ran over to Meka, picked him up, and ran inside a house.
Tony edged himself agaisnt the wall. He found a door, and ran inside.
The gang ran inside to help Meka...
Time resumed.
Grix, his brain, and the second Grix walked out together.
They stood in a triangle, and walked towards Masala.
"THE FIGHTER, THE WATCHER, AND THE THINKER, THE THREE." Masala spoke with an echoing voice...
"We are here to kill you Masala. You cannot win agaisnt us combined." Grix spoke calmly...
"NO, I CANNOT."
Grix smiled.
"BUT I CAN'T BE DEFEATED IF THE THREE AREN'T UNITED."
The second Grix lay his hand on his gun...
Grix's sixth sense tingled... something... behind him...
The second Grix pulled out his gun... Grix turned, and punched him in the face... the gun fell to the sand. Grix sat on the second Grix, and punched him repeatedly.
*click*
Grix looked up. Grix's brain aimed the gun at him.
"Oh dear. That's you up crap creek, isn't it?" He said.
"...But why? Why kill me?" Grix asked...
"The first one out of this dump, controls the body."
A frown appeared on Grix's face.
------------------------
"Why didn't you do what I said? Why didn't you do it!"
Meka lay on the table... taking his final breathes...
"I thought... it would help..."
"You silly idiot..."
FantasyMeister applied pressure on the wound, but it seemed hopeless.
Pb walked forward...
"Grix said that this would be important."
Pb held out his hand, and opened it.
The musical pocket watch.
Jake looked at the watch... he started to cry...
Pb turned to leave the room... the rest walked out, following Pb.
-----------------------
"We have to stick together!" Grix pleaded as Grix's brain held the gun to his head.
"I can't stand just watching anymore. I need to be able to walk, to control."
"But if we let Masala walk away, we're as good as dead anyway! There won't be a body to control!"
Grix's brain thought about this...
"The only reason we're attacking one another is so Masala can control the mind himself! He's got too much of a grip now! We have to stop him!"
Grix's brain dropped the gun.
"Ok... let's get rid of him... And THEN we'll finish this."
Well. It was better than dead.
He is not nice.
Least he seems NICE sniper :-)
Look you are not a tourist guide.
That's Sniper.
We like to kill him in our stories.
Nobody knows why... :)
We like to kill him in our stories.
Nobody knows why... :)
What sort of name is that, why not change?
You lot write storys here? wicked
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