PENDING DELETION
Believe nothing that I say.
Greetings!
I am Agent Wraith.
I am the GREATEST RLSH EVER.
Through my will I have wrought a grand and wonderful vision, one of HOPE and PEACE and LOVE and HAPPINESS!
hadyougoing
No,no,no,no,no, NO!!
Insanity, ladies and gentlemen.
In.sanity.
| surmise it's possible, that somewhere there exists a reality where Zapata Wraith is alive and well and possessed (HA!) of a pleasant, perhaps even a cordial disposition.
Polite even.
oh.
wait.
I remember that guy. Sundays he would hunker down in his lair and terrorize Crossfire with polite yet annoying platitudes. Twice.
this is time travel.
THIS is TIME travel?
Inconsistency.
Incongruous.
or
is
it?
Multitudes or microcosms?
infinity?
ad naseum?
The escalation. yes, we talked about this.
Krampocalyptic Coalescence?
Pfft. I've been sto.ck.pil.ing wea.p.ons for decades.
I've been ar.med and dan.gerous since I was alive.
Supersuits.
It ain't Iron Man, it ain't Batman*, it just wishes it WAS the Punisher.
Or Joker.
Yes. Joker.
Armies of jokers.
It's insanity!
Joker 'technically' corners the market on straight-psycho wack-job nuttery, sometimes pandering to burn the world for the LULZ.
An army though? Joker is an alpha. And there is always a BIGGER fish.
Take note, inmates.
Things will go bust.
And then fish will be on the line.
And the next thing that goes bust will be fish butthole.
This colored text sponsored in part by Milk Chickens™.
"Milk Chickens™, Put them on your penis!"**
And teams. TEAMS!
likegroups
EVERYWHERE!
Let me be on your team! I'm on your team!
I AM YOUR TEAM!
The Second Amendment's arms are building mass. Now patrols.
What's next?
'Witnessing'?
Door-to-door preaching of exploits and the necessities of hood vigilantism?
Signatures for petitions for betterment of society?
Donations?
Volunteers?
Subjugation?
Sound
familiar
?
(this was removed for several years in fear of starting such a practice, now that it's common, the fear is all yours)
Options?
I've narrowed it down to roughly two.
be enslaved
or
die
There was a time you could have at least tortured yourself with the bliss of Utopian Playlands.
It's the big picture, Waldolf.
These rebels, these revolutionaries, such imaginations!
In direct opposition!
Against the current.
I don't gots no book smarts uh no genius, but I no its gotta be harder to turn an error around then jest guidin it a little to the left or right.
You could think to better yourself and perhaps turn the planet around from it's inevitable slag-state fit for nothing except your extinction, we know that's not going to happen, you lazy hippie. I would get one more henchman and the world would be a lifeless husk.. all according to.. uh.. nevermind.
You could think to better yourself and maybe one of these so-called villainous organizations will actually DO SOMETHING, like shanghai you into service and servitude at the front of their attack legion and you will die a glorious death.. nah. lazy hippies.
Or you could kill yourself.
It might be a great option.
INSTANT SERVITUDE!
What?
Elementary orchestration of genius or imbecilic blathering of nonsoncery?
-Agent Wraith
p.s. itsnotfunnyitssadreallywantmoretime
p.p.s. mobilizing
p.p.s. youdontwanttonowwhativeseenorwhereivebeen
*Oddly on this black sabbath, Ozzy has sung the words 'Iron Man' and 'war machine'. A disdain for DC perhaps with his treatment of flying rats aside, I'm just gibbering. #craigyferg
**You see, I knew this was bad when I said it the third and fourth times, but it bears repeating another million or so. I -know- it was a joke when it was said. I know. Who comes up with this SHIT?
heroes
Head Shot!
Showing posts with label necromancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label necromancy. Show all posts
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Day of the Machete!
The following took place on April 14, 2011:
4:15 am
Henchman 22 stirs and discovers leak in level 23..
I am paged out of my slumber.
Yes, I said paged.
She assures me there is nothing to worry about and I should go about my normal routine, but I cannot.
I am restless with concern.
4:45 am
Rail car transportation inspected, stocked with essentials, and detailed. We are set to depart many times, then delayed by various Henchmen and their woes.
Note: Franklin cannot have more than one carry-on.
Who brings 5 suitcases in the middle of a flood?
4:59 am
First aftershock.
3.2
Not bad enough to do any damage, but just enough to let you know what it is.
And slightly increased flooding in level 23.
22 is still not rushing, trying to convince us there is nothing to worry over.
5:30 am
Departure from station, Henchmen in tow.
Another aftershock (lost count by this point) makes everything worse.
Transportation is quick, but fails to move fast enough. Tunnels destabilize and prevent return. 22 is struck by debris, complains, then returns to the calm composure we know so well. Even with a machete half in her guts.
5:52 am
Arrival at destination. 22 is rushed to the Infirmary, we all fear the worst.
The machete is making everything worse and as she is put on the gurney, the rail car pulls away.
5:56 am
Rail car explodes.
We barely escape alive.
Note: Do not allow Franklin to drive.
5:59 am
I arrive at the Infirmary to find 22 in shock, the machete on a table nearby, and the doctors telling her she's going to be fine. The machete is still, wiped clean of 22's blood, and quiet. It is taken away and the room falls into a black pall.
6:30 am
After no word, ill or good, the machete is brought to 22. It reminds us of how frail we all once were.
She brandishes it strongly, vowing to never let anyone wrench it from her living hands.
7:00 am
On pain meds, 22 tells me that Los Sauces finally feels like home and she is comfortable with becoming its caretaker. She understands the Meeting of Resolution (March 21) and nods silently.
I nod back as she falls asleep.
7:55 am
Henchman 22 stirs briefly.
9:01 am
A few of the Henchmen, including Franklin, bring 22 food. She doesn't enjoy the food they have prepared and nearly kills them all.
The machete is almost lost amongst their bodies, until Franklin points it out.
9:20 am
Franklin completes the Henchmen clean up. I take it upon myself to find something palatable for 22 and take one henchman with me. If I fail, at least I won't lose an entire team.
10:17 am
I return, food in hand. Henchman 22 is pleased and no one else has to die.
10:52 am
Full, everyone falls asleep.
12:04 pm
Upon awakening, we find the machete is missing.
Henchman 22's rampage is soon evident.
2:08 pm
Several Henchmen are strangled, mangled, slaughtered, and crushed. 22 is distraught; suicidal.
Several more Henchmen meet their doom before her storm subsides.
The machete is brought to her, apologies are ignored, and messengers are killed.
3:00 pm
Lunch.
Cheese ravioli with a light sauce, steamed broccoli, crackers, and juice.
22 opts for a carbonated beverage against medical advice.
The Infirmary loses another staff member before she gets her soda.
4:00 pm
Franklin and I go for a walk away from the medical complex.
He tells me he is worried about 22 and how insane she has been acting lately.
I try to tell him that it's just the machete that makes her feel like that.
He worries some more, eats a coyote, and we head back.
6:00 pm
There is a 'general' alarm sounding, alerting the compound to another attack.
The USPS keeps trying to deliver official documents and the boys at the gate keep telling them to 'Get lost!'
I admire their tenacity, but paratroopers only make matter worse.
For a moment, we feared a War @ Los Sauces.
But, thanks to Franklin, 5, 00, 28, and 22, the tide turns and the gunfire ceases.
7:59 pm
I send Franklin to herd the rest of the Henchmen away and off to his quarters for the night. He is tired and weary, a good night's sleep will refresh him.
22 remarks that he is progressing wonderfully for a mutilated zombie/corpse thing and we laugh.
It's been a long while since we've done that.
8:40 pm
Dinner.
I have to turn service away at the door (ravioli again?) and inform 22 dinner will be late.
It doesn't take long to find a replacement host or meal and I bring them both to her.
She enjoys the stuffed roast and mashed potatoes.
Enough she loosens her grip enough so I can breathe.
Note: Resurrection and possession are not easy tasks. One should never perform them on an empty stomach.
9:30 pm
Host body craves nicotine, so 22 and I watch the clouds cover the moon as I smoke.
We make plans to celebrate this auspicious and eventful day in the future.
I chuckle as I mash out the rest of a cigarette, comment on how this body won't even make it that far, and we head inside.
11:09 pm
Host body craves nicotine again, so I head back out.
Alone (save the laptop) and in the dark, I reach out to the world and see what's going on in villainy.
Same as usual.
Youngsters, amongst us, egotistical and flawed, dance from out of the woodwork in a big 'I'm-doing-this-for-the-thrill' and infecting various social sites with their drivel.
Seasoned veterans, up in arms about this-or-that, RLSH or RCMP, and giving tirades.
Note: Lord Malignance's social commentary 'One, Villain' in Better Lairs and Gardens was phenomenally better than mine.
I begin work on 'Day of the Machete' post.
12:06 am
The body I inhabit collapses from exhaustion at the lap top and I am dragged back to my quarters.
I am tossed unceremoniously through the doors and crash spectacularly onto the floor.
And then I die.
4:15 am
Henchman 22 stirs and discovers leak in level 23..
I am paged out of my slumber.
Yes, I said paged.
She assures me there is nothing to worry about and I should go about my normal routine, but I cannot.
I am restless with concern.
4:45 am
Rail car transportation inspected, stocked with essentials, and detailed. We are set to depart many times, then delayed by various Henchmen and their woes.
Note: Franklin cannot have more than one carry-on.
Who brings 5 suitcases in the middle of a flood?
4:59 am
First aftershock.
3.2
Not bad enough to do any damage, but just enough to let you know what it is.
And slightly increased flooding in level 23.
22 is still not rushing, trying to convince us there is nothing to worry over.
5:30 am
Departure from station, Henchmen in tow.
Another aftershock (lost count by this point) makes everything worse.
Transportation is quick, but fails to move fast enough. Tunnels destabilize and prevent return. 22 is struck by debris, complains, then returns to the calm composure we know so well. Even with a machete half in her guts.
5:52 am
Arrival at destination. 22 is rushed to the Infirmary, we all fear the worst.
The machete is making everything worse and as she is put on the gurney, the rail car pulls away.
5:56 am
Rail car explodes.
We barely escape alive.
Note: Do not allow Franklin to drive.
5:59 am
I arrive at the Infirmary to find 22 in shock, the machete on a table nearby, and the doctors telling her she's going to be fine. The machete is still, wiped clean of 22's blood, and quiet. It is taken away and the room falls into a black pall.
6:30 am
After no word, ill or good, the machete is brought to 22. It reminds us of how frail we all once were.
She brandishes it strongly, vowing to never let anyone wrench it from her living hands.
7:00 am
On pain meds, 22 tells me that Los Sauces finally feels like home and she is comfortable with becoming its caretaker. She understands the Meeting of Resolution (March 21) and nods silently.
I nod back as she falls asleep.
7:55 am
Henchman 22 stirs briefly.
9:01 am
A few of the Henchmen, including Franklin, bring 22 food. She doesn't enjoy the food they have prepared and nearly kills them all.
The machete is almost lost amongst their bodies, until Franklin points it out.
9:20 am
Franklin completes the Henchmen clean up. I take it upon myself to find something palatable for 22 and take one henchman with me. If I fail, at least I won't lose an entire team.
10:17 am
I return, food in hand. Henchman 22 is pleased and no one else has to die.
10:52 am
Full, everyone falls asleep.
12:04 pm
Upon awakening, we find the machete is missing.
Henchman 22's rampage is soon evident.
2:08 pm
Several Henchmen are strangled, mangled, slaughtered, and crushed. 22 is distraught; suicidal.
Several more Henchmen meet their doom before her storm subsides.
The machete is brought to her, apologies are ignored, and messengers are killed.
3:00 pm
Lunch.
Cheese ravioli with a light sauce, steamed broccoli, crackers, and juice.
22 opts for a carbonated beverage against medical advice.
The Infirmary loses another staff member before she gets her soda.
4:00 pm
Franklin and I go for a walk away from the medical complex.
He tells me he is worried about 22 and how insane she has been acting lately.
I try to tell him that it's just the machete that makes her feel like that.
He worries some more, eats a coyote, and we head back.
6:00 pm
There is a 'general' alarm sounding, alerting the compound to another attack.
The USPS keeps trying to deliver official documents and the boys at the gate keep telling them to 'Get lost!'
I admire their tenacity, but paratroopers only make matter worse.
For a moment, we feared a War @ Los Sauces.
But, thanks to Franklin, 5, 00, 28, and 22, the tide turns and the gunfire ceases.
7:59 pm
I send Franklin to herd the rest of the Henchmen away and off to his quarters for the night. He is tired and weary, a good night's sleep will refresh him.
22 remarks that he is progressing wonderfully for a mutilated zombie/corpse thing and we laugh.
It's been a long while since we've done that.
8:40 pm
Dinner.
I have to turn service away at the door (ravioli again?) and inform 22 dinner will be late.
It doesn't take long to find a replacement host or meal and I bring them both to her.
She enjoys the stuffed roast and mashed potatoes.
Enough she loosens her grip enough so I can breathe.
Note: Resurrection and possession are not easy tasks. One should never perform them on an empty stomach.
9:30 pm
Host body craves nicotine, so 22 and I watch the clouds cover the moon as I smoke.
We make plans to celebrate this auspicious and eventful day in the future.
I chuckle as I mash out the rest of a cigarette, comment on how this body won't even make it that far, and we head inside.
11:09 pm
Host body craves nicotine again, so I head back out.
Alone (save the laptop) and in the dark, I reach out to the world and see what's going on in villainy.
Same as usual.
Youngsters, amongst us, egotistical and flawed, dance from out of the woodwork in a big 'I'm-doing-this-for-the-thrill' and infecting various social sites with their drivel.
Seasoned veterans, up in arms about this-or-that, RLSH or RCMP, and giving tirades.
Note: Lord Malignance's social commentary 'One, Villain' in Better Lairs and Gardens was phenomenally better than mine.
I begin work on 'Day of the Machete' post.
12:06 am
The body I inhabit collapses from exhaustion at the lap top and I am dragged back to my quarters.
I am tossed unceremoniously through the doors and crash spectacularly onto the floor.
And then I die.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)