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We pissin' our pants yet?; It's gonna be pee-pee pants city real soon...
Topic Started: Aug 13 2016, 05:17 PM (635 Views)
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Jerry laughed softly, at least Michael kept his sense of humor. He calmly answered to the question with a smile drawing in his lips.

There was people he wanted to check up on them, to make sure they were fine, to make sure they were alive. Most of them, however, could handle themselves. There was one girl, in particular he was afraid she wouldn't be able to defend herself, but she was friends with everybody.

Nobody would go on a murdering rampage the first day, so she should be fine

"I'm not looking for anybody in particular, but if we meet our friends, we should try to help them."

He walked toward the door, feeling his weight against the floor. He wondered how old it must be, was there a chance of Michael and Jerry falling through it? That'd be anticlimactic, all this dramatic talk for nothing.

When he reached the door, he looked back to his companion. So that was his ally, and they both agreed to defend each other. That calmed the buzzing inside of him, he felt safe despite the situation. He knew that this feeling won't stay inside of him because only one person could get of this alive, unless someone came to rescue them, but it was the present that really matters.

Not the future.

"Let's go?"

((Jerry Larkins continued elsewhere))
Edited by Leaf, Aug 24 2016, 02:27 PM.
me by naft
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This was it then. Moment he walked out that door, reality was gonna come crashing down on them. Of course, waking up on the island was the start of it all happening, but if Mr. Graham's brains getting blown out his nose was the punch in the teeth, waking up was merely the shove, whilst stepping out that door? The curb stomp to end it all. Only question would be if Michael would get up from a blow like that. Probably not said the little voice in his head. Shut up, lil' bitch said the other one.

In a way though, his location, and his new partner were the best things to happen to him for what could be the rest of his life. Getting Jerry to his friends would net him some pretty good karma. Now, you might be a Christian, Atheist, Muslim, Jew, Hindu, Buddhist, whatever. You can't deny this. Karma is a very real thing. It affected everyone, no matter how little or how large. Of course, reflecting on his life, Michael didn't know what he did to deserve all the shit that happened in his early childhood, or getting put on this island for that matter. Maybe in a past life he was some crazy cartel guy with a four wheeler and a machete. Maybe that bullshit story he made in 9th grade of being a really really distant descendant of Genghis Khan was true. Maybe he was the reincarnation Genghis Khan?

Whatever, he's lived a pretty shitty life. This honestly didn't surprise him one bit. It was even better that once everything started getting good he said yes to this damn trip. Stupid stupid stupid. If he has a chance to go back in time, he'd go back and punch himself in the dick until it looked like an eggplant, then go back in time again, slap himself in the face, and tell himself to say no. Also to tell Jon, Darius, Bradley, too. Maybe the others. Maybe not Ben, Blair, or Min Jae though, they can go sit and spin.

Still, rant aside, he needed some good karma for the road. Helping Jerry would be the best way to do it. Maybe help some others and see if his heart grows three times it's size this week. (That's called cardiomyopathy!) Maybe then he'd earn enough to find Jonathan, fuck like bunnies, then die peacefully in his sleep. Or maybe he was so down on the ladder that some pissant he made fun of would shoot his dick off then jam a pencil in his eye. Fuck Bradley by the way, he had to remind himself to slap his shit up for sending him that bloodgarden shit. Fuck liveleak too. Fuck SOTF, fuck karma, fuck all of this shit. He wasn't planning on dying on this island. It was probably still gonna happen, but he wasn't planning on it at least.

"Hey, catch." Michael tossed Jerry the spear. Jerry was gonna need it more than he did. Michael eyed his axe. Damn thing was kickass, better than a gun in his eyes. Well, here we are, beginning of the end of the beginning, or something like that. Moment that door opens, reality was gonna come to push his shit in. He'd like to pretend he wasn't afraid, that he made peace with God, that he'd go out peacefully. Really though, he was frightened. Knees shaking pants pissing frightened. Wouldn't actually do it, too much self-worth, but still, he was pretty close, y'know. After all, dying was gonna hurt like a bitch...

Fuck it. Michael adjusted his sunglasses, and forced his trademark smarmy grin. As the britbongs would say, keep a stiff upper lip or some shit.

((Michael Crowe continued in 70's Horror Movies))
Edited by ToxieTheToxicAvenger, Sep 6 2016, 10:17 AM.
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