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May 21, 2005
Volume 1, Issue 9
This picture was recently snapped for another project site, Inappropriately Dressed.
Let's imagine the life and times of this individual, shall we?
UPDATE - Our undying thanks to Johnny Catbird for much fiddling yesterday to try and get the word count script to be less arse-tastic.
Michele: I Choose You
“I’m young, strong and fearless. You did right to stick with me.” For emphasis, he plucked an ammunition belt from a dead alien.
The old woman snarled, “You’re a foul mouthed punk. I wouldn’t follow you if you were the last man on earth!”
He was pretty damn close to being just that.
“I should have went with that nice man, Bob.”
He pointed a finger at her. “I’m your hero, lady.”
He looped the ammunition belt into his pants. His jeans immediately fell to the floor, revealing Pokemon briefs.
The old woman laughed. “I’m going to look for Bob.”
Ted: Going Back to the City
Each shell casing had initials etched into the side. Marco was looking for the people who killed Juanita. Juanita, whom he had known since childhood. Juanita whose soft brown eyes would be the last thing he saw at night as an adult. Her memory would be stained forever by the terrible memory of her body quartered in the barnyard unless he had justice. That he had been away when it happened made it much worse. His dreams of making a better life, a better country, had drawn him to the hills where he had learned well the ways of killing.
Laurence: Pants Avenger
Buddy Lee grew up.
Nobody expected him to, but as with all little boys, he did.
And he grew up fast. He outgrew his dungarees quickly, and the company no longer needed him as a spokesman.
He hit the streets hard,
All those years of getting knocked around made him angry.
They made him crazy.
Buddy roamed the world, looking for people wearing those dungarees.
He swore an oath that if there was anything left of his victims, they'd be buried in them.
That's why I wear a kilt. Buddy ignores kilt-wearers.
And I've got the knees for it, too.
Andy: Curse of the River Valley
The crimson boat drifted to a halt.
Garrett Jameson stepped off and straightened his hat.
Within the Temple of the River Valley, his fiercest foes awaited, wielding weapons of both man and mysticism. Checking his guns and adjusting his bandolier, he recalled the blood challenge of Kai Shan.
Garrett began his walk with fate. Ethereal hands opened the temple doors; the magic here was strong.
He was stronger.
"Have fun at the arcade," said Mrs. Jameson from the red station wagon. "I’ll pick you up at seven."
"Aw, Mom!" Gary said, head down, as he ran into River Valley Mall.
Stacy: Les Nessman Cop Out
(It's been a loooong day, and we move in five days, so shutup.)
In season 3 of WKRP, Les Nessman began doing traffic reports from a WWI biplane.
The Eschatologist: Walking the Line
There are seven deadly sins. That's what old Sister Hernandez drilled into me over and again. You know the ones. They get your ass a one way trip to hell.
They've pretty much had their way with me, and I with them. That was years ago. Old news. I've beaten envy and sloth. Gone toe to toe with pride and greed. Gluttony and lust? Been there, done that.
The one I can't get past is wrath, though. It's even eating me up now as I put four rounds in this motherfucker. I wonder if there are twelve steps for me?
From the Comments - By Adam
Safe? Nothing's safe. The coffee table district's the worst. Folks here will kill you just as soon as look at you.
I try to even out the odds. I keep my ammunition visible so people know not to mess with me. I keep my weapons concealed in the crotch of my baggy pants. I like to keep some secrets.
My Glock, an old Smith and Wesson like the cowboys used to use, three hand grenades and an AK-47 fit snugly against my grossly undersized genitalia.
Just keep your eyes on the coffee tables, folks; You don't want to meet me.