As I slink away behind a pile
of sheet metal, I notice that the bastard with the rocket launcher clipped me
much closer than I thought. The entire left side of my body seems cold. I look
at myself and I see that my clothes are dark with moisture. I don't feel hurt,
though. I sling ol' RailGun and start checking myself. Now my right hand is
wet and sticky. I give my fingertips a lick only to taste a sweet flavor. My
eyes widen with horror as I paw like a wild animal at the source of the wetness.
My trembling hands come away from my backpack holding a dripping RC Bottle. "YOU
BASTARD" I howl. My words echo off the roof and down the corridors. "YOU
SHOT MY ICED TEA! FOR THIS, YOU DIE!" I can barely contain my rage as I
see only a small bit of tea left in the bottle, a jagged piece of shrapnel
sloshing around at the bottom. Ruined. Nothing tastes worse than metallic Iced
Tea. A new horror grips me. "IT WAS A DEPOSIT BOTTLE, YOU ANIMAL!" I
roar.
I key my message through the open commo channel. "I challenge
the ingrate that shot my Iced Tea to a one on one battle in the right wing of
the warehouse. Right near the Quad. First one to die loses." The
response comes. "You're on, WeaselBoy." Exxxxcelent. I check my gun
and move out. As I approach the cleared area between the pallets, I hear the
Quad being picked up. Ahhhh. I love a good challenge! He is probably running
in circles looking for a target, all the while glowing like a bug-zapper. As I
climb up a stack of boxes, I can hear his footsteps on the other side. I watch
for a second or two from the shadows. Over the radio I say "My name is
WeaselBoy. You killed my Iced Tea. Prepare to die..." just as I toss the
RC bottle off to the far side. He spins and shoots at the noise. The poor RC
bottle is totally annihilated by the HEAP round.
I key my programmed
macro into the comm-net and my message appears on his HUD. "The Weasel is
behind you..." Silently, I drop to the floor behind him and tap him on the
shoulder with "RailGun." He fires as he turns and the rocket screams
by my ear deafening me. With a grin, I pull the trigger and a slug rips through
his chin. I am not sure but I think he was trying to say "Hey...."
The earlier damage is worse than I thought. Not only was my Iced Tea gone but
shrapnel had torn free BOTH pockets of Mal-O-Mars. This is truly no way to go
about business so I head on back to my car.
As I leave the warehouse,
I can hear the llama whining. "That wasn't fair! It was supposed to be a
fair fight." I MUST respond to this one. I key in "It WAS a fair
fight. You weren't good enough to make it a GOOD fight..." The curses
that ensue would make even my grandmother blush and she was in the Merchant
Marines. Heh Heh. Let him stew. Out in the parking lot, I cross the silent
rows of cars and head to the WeaselMobile. I can't resist a parting shot at
some new guy trying to figure out the warehouse's front door. I pop the guy
through the back as his lunch spatters the front door. I yell out "It's
the switch on the right, dude!" as I drive past his bleeding corpse and
head back home to the Lair.
WEASELBOY DISCONNECTS
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