Post by Gary Frat and Dave Reid on Jul 2, 2007 0:41:29 GMT -5
The end had come.
Well, no, not quite, but it was coming, and there amongst the carnage a force was assembling...well, not quite, more like two idiots lost in the wilderness somewhere outside Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada. They were brave souls, but not because they were men of some great stature or importance, no, they were brave simply because they were too stupid to be anything else. Oh yes, they had whethered everything that had come, trapped within their timber cage, waiting for the moment, to unite...
The moment, for revenge.
And now that time had come, if only they could find their way out.
He tramped on, his boots clotted with mud, his every breath a hoarse rasping. He stopped and leaned back, stretching, taking a sip of water from his canteen.
"Damn it! Phooey!"
He spit it out, the water filled with the fliesthat had gotten into it the night before and died, when he had left the top off his canteen.
He ran his hand through his unkempt beard, looking up through the myriad of green to where the sun dampled down through the foliage. He heard a splash behind him, and glanced back, a squat humanoid covered in muck trying to pull himself out of a bog, his massive tungue think and large, sticking out of his mouth, the pale pink contrasting the tarrish brown.
"Ca blaharablablah"
"Would you keep quiet!"
The squat humanoid grinned...or at least he thought he was grinning...it was hard to tell, he generally looked retarded to begin with. Covered in muck, he then bent down and retrieved thick cokebottle like glasses from the bog, sticking them on his face, completely blinding himself.
Again that smile, the smile of a tard...a real tard.
"Come on and keep quiet."
They trugged on, splish splash, splish splash plop, reblah, quiet! blop, plop, ploop. The son wanned, and night began to creep in, the shadows growing up around them, trying to choke them.
But they were not afraid, no, for they were the hunters, and somewhere up there, food lurked.
And they would feed...that was if they could manage the simple art of shooting a deer...and not eachother.
To be continued...
Well, no, not quite, but it was coming, and there amongst the carnage a force was assembling...well, not quite, more like two idiots lost in the wilderness somewhere outside Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada. They were brave souls, but not because they were men of some great stature or importance, no, they were brave simply because they were too stupid to be anything else. Oh yes, they had whethered everything that had come, trapped within their timber cage, waiting for the moment, to unite...
The moment, for revenge.
And now that time had come, if only they could find their way out.
He tramped on, his boots clotted with mud, his every breath a hoarse rasping. He stopped and leaned back, stretching, taking a sip of water from his canteen.
"Damn it! Phooey!"
He spit it out, the water filled with the fliesthat had gotten into it the night before and died, when he had left the top off his canteen.
He ran his hand through his unkempt beard, looking up through the myriad of green to where the sun dampled down through the foliage. He heard a splash behind him, and glanced back, a squat humanoid covered in muck trying to pull himself out of a bog, his massive tungue think and large, sticking out of his mouth, the pale pink contrasting the tarrish brown.
"Ca blaharablablah"
"Would you keep quiet!"
The squat humanoid grinned...or at least he thought he was grinning...it was hard to tell, he generally looked retarded to begin with. Covered in muck, he then bent down and retrieved thick cokebottle like glasses from the bog, sticking them on his face, completely blinding himself.
Again that smile, the smile of a tard...a real tard.
"Come on and keep quiet."
They trugged on, splish splash, splish splash plop, reblah, quiet! blop, plop, ploop. The son wanned, and night began to creep in, the shadows growing up around them, trying to choke them.
But they were not afraid, no, for they were the hunters, and somewhere up there, food lurked.
And they would feed...that was if they could manage the simple art of shooting a deer...and not eachother.
To be continued...