Post by Tomas Luger on Jun 28, 2008 8:01:43 GMT -5
So there he was, one hand tied behind his back and both feet cruelly lashed together and blindfolded with the enormous, sucking weight of Katu Tui about to drive into his whole being when suddenly-
You weren’t blindfolded, and I’m pretty sure you had access to all appendages when we showed up
Paused on Katu Tui about to crush the soul out of our hero, Tomas Luger.
Enter Luger sitting at a long table, bottle of dark alcoholic brew in one hand and a shot glass in the other. Judging from the two-thirds consumed contents of the bottle and all the swaying, Luger was pretty sauced.
TL: Whadjya say Hummfreeze?
Humphries is sitting his goat-panted self on the table, with his feet on the bench. He’s cleaning his fife as he listens to Luger’s recount of the events of yore-
Humphries: I said, you weren’t blindfolded and I don’t remember you being tied up at all.
(Female Voice): Seriously Tomas, you got drunk in the bar and challenged Katu to a street fight in front of Brent Kersh, of all people. Katu obliged, you yelled something about “humping Kersh’s mom into next Wednesday” and then passed out before Tui could even lay a finger on you-
TL: Nowyoulissenhere’Lexis...
Cue the woman of the group, a leggy brunette with a wit as sharp as her glance and the type of brutal honesty that men with problems in bed don’t really get along with too keenly.
TL: When yer pimpaz beetin you an I sed to him, I sed, “Hey! Leave that fine pizza ass alone bitch!” and heez all, “I cut you foo”-
Alexis: Christ, are you that much of a dumb drunk? You picked me up at the local burlesque house after I got off a shift and I stopped some muggers from beating the shit out of you and you mumbled something about, “needin sum muzzles in thiz groop” and since you paid me, fed me and clothed me I followed you.
TL: I’m tellin a story!
Luger pours a shot and spills about half of it down the front of himself, then slams the shot glass on the table, getting the attention of everyone at the table.
TL: Sides, I’m not az drunk az Frankstinatara...
pan to a bum, complete with tattered tunic and breeches and cloth sack on a pole, curled up under a tree with three empty bottles and a rather large puddle of vomit surrounding his unconscious body.
Humphries: Yeah, I’ve been wondering why we keep him around. He smells funny-
Alexis: Yeah, Tomas, he steals from all of us and he has zero use on any given assignment. Why the hell do you let him tag along?
Luger ponders for a moment, swaying all the while and looking very close to vomiting himself.
TL: Heez bad at cardz...
Humphries: That makes sense...
Alexis: No it doesn’t! It doesn’t explain anything! Look-
The stripper snatches the bottle from Luger’s hand and pours the liquor on the ground-
TL: NOOOoooo!!!
Alexis: We need to come up with a plan. We started this organization in the hopes to rob from the rich and give to the poor-
TL: No, no, no-
Luger tries to stand and drunkenly stumbles off the bench and falls backward onto the ground. Humphries scrambles to Tomas’ side and helps the louse to his sloppy feet.
TL: I got thish rabbbbble of dageerous miscrints gether with the spress idea of robbing the rich and giving to me-
Humphries: You’re just lucky we’re all poor, Tom-
Alexis: And, seriously honey, you may be cute and gifted in bed but that shit ain’t keeping us fed and happy. You better come up with a real way of making some money besides shaking down the other peasants.
Luger, swaying like some majestic, disjointed flag, stares unblinking for several moments before he begins falling freely toward the ground. Moments before his face impacts, a river of sour smelling booze vomit comes pouring out of Tomas mouth.
Then, the great slumber.
Luger stands from a laying position and looks around.
It appears as though he’s on a craggy, rocky surface that is cracked and barren in all directions. The dirt is a deep orange/red color and smells like sulfur.
TL: Nice place-
(High-Pitched, Impish voice): Hey, buster!
Luger looks around in all directions, but sees absolutely no one. Up, down-not a soul to be seen.
TL: Hello?
Luger turns, and is nose to nose with a flying, horned devil of some sort. He’s a standard red skinned, black winged, black horned, sinister beard and moustachioed devil. Luger just blinks as the imp blinks back.
Imp: Hello, Tomas Luger.
TL: Where the hell am I?
Imp: Close, this is Purgatory which is like Hell’s staging grounds.
TL: Dear God! Did I drink myself to death?
Imp: God has nothing to do with this side of things. In fact, we typically frown on his being honorably mentioned at all. I thought I went over all that with you?
TL: Went over what? What the hell are you talking about you winged monkey bastard!
Imp: It’s a “Hell Pact” actually, and you signed own about six months ago pledging your soul at a time of our choosing for unlimited favors until said time arrives. Here we are!
Luger thought about it for a moment and then a slightly reddening smile smears across his face.
TL: That was a helluva card game. How did I know he had the full house? Shit, Stubbie, how ya doin?
Stubbie: Nice to meetcha! Shit, Luger, if you want help you don’t have to drink yourself to death-
TL: Please, that wasn’t a cry for help, it was a celebration!
Stubbie: So do you want to know what the “Big Cheese” has cooked up for you or not?
TL: Holy Hell, you mean-
Stubbie: Yep! Satan himself is helping you out with this one-
TL: So what do we have in store for me today? Fire and brimstone mine enemies? A plague to wipe out all the world, except for myself and Kersh’s mom to repopulate the Earth? A serious case of diarrhea, maybe?
Stubbie: Actually, all those things you mentioned are God’s little numbers. Satan can destroy much more quietly, he does see the need for all this “Biblical dick waving”.
TL: So what does that mean, exactly-
Stubbie: Come, let’s learn about corruption, Tomas-
Stubbie opens a door out of no where on that strange realm of existence and the flying demon and Luger step into the tiny, pre-dawn hamlet of Teedubbyadee.
Stubbie: Here we are, Luger, in the town you call home. What do you see-
TL: I see they’ve got the dancing fool locked in the stocks again, shall we go throw vegetables at him?
Stubbie: Leave Adam Young alone, he’s had it rough ya know. It’s not easy selling your talent to Satan in return for an endless sea of mindless minions-
TL: True. Alright, I see the villas surrounding Kersh’s castle. The snob district. Guys like O’Malley and Tui who think that by being on Kersh’s good side and making nicey face with the townsfolk they can do whatever they please. Like we’re supposed to just bring them anything they want on a silver platter, and then NOT steal the platter.
Sutubbie: Don’t you wish you had what guys like The ICon, Steele, O’Malley, Tui and all the other apple polishers have-
TL: Not really, I don’t really do well in those country club monkey suits they have to wear at those fancy to dos they throw-
Stubbie: I’m not saying if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em-
TL: What the hell are you saying?! You damned, dirty imp, you’ve been taking an awful long time to say nothing at all! Spit it out already!
Stubbie: If you can’t join ‘em, beat ‘em. You need to win over the townsfolk, Tomas. Steal them from your rivals and then lead the revolt against them.
TL: How on Earth am I supposed to do that. The people in this damned village hang on every word Tommy O’Malley spews from his filthy, accented mouth. They think Katu Tui is some sort of bronze skinned idol that needs to be worshiped. Kersh has these monkeys brainwashed. How does Satan plan on me to use corruption to out corrupt the maximumly corrupt?
Stubbie: Simple, you’re poor correct?
TL Thanks for the update you wing-a-linged chimp-
Stubbie: What do you wish those ritzy, fancy pants guys would really do for you. I mean the visits they make into public is only so the public can kiss their ass and tell them how great they are. What do you with they’d do once in a while to show they really care?
TL: I suppose they could just drag a wagon of things behind them and hand out free shit-ah!
Stubbie: Now, you see.
TL: Now I see.
I think he’s dead.
Humphrie’s voice invaded Tomas Luger’s hangover like the lighting of a fuse on a stick of dynomite. Luger rolled over and let out a groan. It stank like puke.
Alexis: Damn, he lived...
Humphries: Good to have you back with us sir!
Luger crawled to his feet and sat on the bench, facing away from the table. His stomach grumbled, but it seemed to have at least one or two echoes. Luger catches Humphries near tears look, and Alexis’ scolding flame burning in her eyes. His resolve steeled.
TL: Guys, I have a plan. Let’s go steal some shit...
To be continued...
You weren’t blindfolded, and I’m pretty sure you had access to all appendages when we showed up
Paused on Katu Tui about to crush the soul out of our hero, Tomas Luger.
Enter Luger sitting at a long table, bottle of dark alcoholic brew in one hand and a shot glass in the other. Judging from the two-thirds consumed contents of the bottle and all the swaying, Luger was pretty sauced.
TL: Whadjya say Hummfreeze?
Humphries is sitting his goat-panted self on the table, with his feet on the bench. He’s cleaning his fife as he listens to Luger’s recount of the events of yore-
Humphries: I said, you weren’t blindfolded and I don’t remember you being tied up at all.
(Female Voice): Seriously Tomas, you got drunk in the bar and challenged Katu to a street fight in front of Brent Kersh, of all people. Katu obliged, you yelled something about “humping Kersh’s mom into next Wednesday” and then passed out before Tui could even lay a finger on you-
TL: Nowyoulissenhere’Lexis...
Cue the woman of the group, a leggy brunette with a wit as sharp as her glance and the type of brutal honesty that men with problems in bed don’t really get along with too keenly.
TL: When yer pimpaz beetin you an I sed to him, I sed, “Hey! Leave that fine pizza ass alone bitch!” and heez all, “I cut you foo”-
Alexis: Christ, are you that much of a dumb drunk? You picked me up at the local burlesque house after I got off a shift and I stopped some muggers from beating the shit out of you and you mumbled something about, “needin sum muzzles in thiz groop” and since you paid me, fed me and clothed me I followed you.
TL: I’m tellin a story!
Luger pours a shot and spills about half of it down the front of himself, then slams the shot glass on the table, getting the attention of everyone at the table.
TL: Sides, I’m not az drunk az Frankstinatara...
pan to a bum, complete with tattered tunic and breeches and cloth sack on a pole, curled up under a tree with three empty bottles and a rather large puddle of vomit surrounding his unconscious body.
Humphries: Yeah, I’ve been wondering why we keep him around. He smells funny-
Alexis: Yeah, Tomas, he steals from all of us and he has zero use on any given assignment. Why the hell do you let him tag along?
Luger ponders for a moment, swaying all the while and looking very close to vomiting himself.
TL: Heez bad at cardz...
Humphries: That makes sense...
Alexis: No it doesn’t! It doesn’t explain anything! Look-
The stripper snatches the bottle from Luger’s hand and pours the liquor on the ground-
TL: NOOOoooo!!!
Alexis: We need to come up with a plan. We started this organization in the hopes to rob from the rich and give to the poor-
TL: No, no, no-
Luger tries to stand and drunkenly stumbles off the bench and falls backward onto the ground. Humphries scrambles to Tomas’ side and helps the louse to his sloppy feet.
TL: I got thish rabbbbble of dageerous miscrints gether with the spress idea of robbing the rich and giving to me-
Humphries: You’re just lucky we’re all poor, Tom-
Alexis: And, seriously honey, you may be cute and gifted in bed but that shit ain’t keeping us fed and happy. You better come up with a real way of making some money besides shaking down the other peasants.
Luger, swaying like some majestic, disjointed flag, stares unblinking for several moments before he begins falling freely toward the ground. Moments before his face impacts, a river of sour smelling booze vomit comes pouring out of Tomas mouth.
Then, the great slumber.
Luger stands from a laying position and looks around.
It appears as though he’s on a craggy, rocky surface that is cracked and barren in all directions. The dirt is a deep orange/red color and smells like sulfur.
TL: Nice place-
(High-Pitched, Impish voice): Hey, buster!
Luger looks around in all directions, but sees absolutely no one. Up, down-not a soul to be seen.
TL: Hello?
Luger turns, and is nose to nose with a flying, horned devil of some sort. He’s a standard red skinned, black winged, black horned, sinister beard and moustachioed devil. Luger just blinks as the imp blinks back.
Imp: Hello, Tomas Luger.
TL: Where the hell am I?
Imp: Close, this is Purgatory which is like Hell’s staging grounds.
TL: Dear God! Did I drink myself to death?
Imp: God has nothing to do with this side of things. In fact, we typically frown on his being honorably mentioned at all. I thought I went over all that with you?
TL: Went over what? What the hell are you talking about you winged monkey bastard!
Imp: It’s a “Hell Pact” actually, and you signed own about six months ago pledging your soul at a time of our choosing for unlimited favors until said time arrives. Here we are!
Luger thought about it for a moment and then a slightly reddening smile smears across his face.
TL: That was a helluva card game. How did I know he had the full house? Shit, Stubbie, how ya doin?
Stubbie: Nice to meetcha! Shit, Luger, if you want help you don’t have to drink yourself to death-
TL: Please, that wasn’t a cry for help, it was a celebration!
Stubbie: So do you want to know what the “Big Cheese” has cooked up for you or not?
TL: Holy Hell, you mean-
Stubbie: Yep! Satan himself is helping you out with this one-
TL: So what do we have in store for me today? Fire and brimstone mine enemies? A plague to wipe out all the world, except for myself and Kersh’s mom to repopulate the Earth? A serious case of diarrhea, maybe?
Stubbie: Actually, all those things you mentioned are God’s little numbers. Satan can destroy much more quietly, he does see the need for all this “Biblical dick waving”.
TL: So what does that mean, exactly-
Stubbie: Come, let’s learn about corruption, Tomas-
Stubbie opens a door out of no where on that strange realm of existence and the flying demon and Luger step into the tiny, pre-dawn hamlet of Teedubbyadee.
Stubbie: Here we are, Luger, in the town you call home. What do you see-
TL: I see they’ve got the dancing fool locked in the stocks again, shall we go throw vegetables at him?
Stubbie: Leave Adam Young alone, he’s had it rough ya know. It’s not easy selling your talent to Satan in return for an endless sea of mindless minions-
TL: True. Alright, I see the villas surrounding Kersh’s castle. The snob district. Guys like O’Malley and Tui who think that by being on Kersh’s good side and making nicey face with the townsfolk they can do whatever they please. Like we’re supposed to just bring them anything they want on a silver platter, and then NOT steal the platter.
Sutubbie: Don’t you wish you had what guys like The ICon, Steele, O’Malley, Tui and all the other apple polishers have-
TL: Not really, I don’t really do well in those country club monkey suits they have to wear at those fancy to dos they throw-
Stubbie: I’m not saying if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em-
TL: What the hell are you saying?! You damned, dirty imp, you’ve been taking an awful long time to say nothing at all! Spit it out already!
Stubbie: If you can’t join ‘em, beat ‘em. You need to win over the townsfolk, Tomas. Steal them from your rivals and then lead the revolt against them.
TL: How on Earth am I supposed to do that. The people in this damned village hang on every word Tommy O’Malley spews from his filthy, accented mouth. They think Katu Tui is some sort of bronze skinned idol that needs to be worshiped. Kersh has these monkeys brainwashed. How does Satan plan on me to use corruption to out corrupt the maximumly corrupt?
Stubbie: Simple, you’re poor correct?
TL Thanks for the update you wing-a-linged chimp-
Stubbie: What do you wish those ritzy, fancy pants guys would really do for you. I mean the visits they make into public is only so the public can kiss their ass and tell them how great they are. What do you with they’d do once in a while to show they really care?
TL: I suppose they could just drag a wagon of things behind them and hand out free shit-ah!
Stubbie: Now, you see.
TL: Now I see.
I think he’s dead.
Humphrie’s voice invaded Tomas Luger’s hangover like the lighting of a fuse on a stick of dynomite. Luger rolled over and let out a groan. It stank like puke.
Alexis: Damn, he lived...
Humphries: Good to have you back with us sir!
Luger crawled to his feet and sat on the bench, facing away from the table. His stomach grumbled, but it seemed to have at least one or two echoes. Luger catches Humphries near tears look, and Alexis’ scolding flame burning in her eyes. His resolve steeled.
TL: Guys, I have a plan. Let’s go steal some shit...
To be continued...