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(#21) The Personification of Dread
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Big Fagot
Alpha ape
Joined: 09 Jan 2007
Posts: 10544
(Tue Feb 27, 2007 10:06 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

You are Picasso with verb tenses.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Tue Feb 27, 2007 11:00 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

I'm almost positive that's a horrible insult.

I don't go over any of my promos for mistakes, so w/e.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sat Mar 03, 2007 12:44 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

About one year ago ...

In a secret bunker two men sit opposite of each other at a twenty foot long table. At one end, a grizzled old black man, with white hair in a short afro, sits, his dinner plate covered in barbecue sauce and collard greens. His thin fingers shovel another mouthful up and his wrinkled skin shakes with the movement. Behind him stand two gangsta ass niggas acting as bodyguards. One takes a long hit off of his blunt and passes it over to the other. On the other end sits Thomas Jefferson, he limply moves his ham hocks around his plate with his fork, something obviously on his mind. A man in a black cape sits in a dimly lighted corner, his arms cross. Next to him is seated Empress Gigi. At her feet plays Prince Raven, stacking zombie eyeballs into a pyramid.

"Have you considered our proposition?" Jefferson asks. Even though he had long grown accustomed to what is today known as soul food, he had no appetite tonight. He sighs as Prometheus Jones licks the barbecue sauce off of his fingers.

"Mr. Jefferson," Jones says, smacking his lips, "this is some damn good food. Damn fine."

"Yes," Jefferson says, slightly exasperated, "One of the zombies used to be black in his previous life. After we fed him some human flesh, he was able to remember how to cook. But even so, Mr. Jones, I need to know if you are with me on this."

"I been thinkin'," Jones gets impatient. "Why should I join you? What's the profit? I remember back in 1973, a young man asked me for some change while I was walkin' to the laundromat and would you believe he got all mad at me because all I had was enough to pay for my danged laundry? He told me, he said, 'I'm a Viet Nam vet, and this is how you treat me, you gawdamn ol' man?' I said, 'Boy, don't you be talkin' to your elders like that,' and I smacked him in his head and he fell out. It was the damnedest thing I ever saw."

"Uh, I see. Well, like I was saying-"

"Oh no you don't, I wasn't done with the story," Prometheus cuts him off. "Like I was sayin', he fell out and I didn't know what to think. This boy was just layin' there and blood was all just runnin' out of his mouth. I was 38 at the time, so I had lost a little strength, but I'll be damned if it wasn't enough to knock that young man out. You know I used to be a champion professional wrestler, right? Well, back in '58 I was defending my title-"

"Mr. Jones!" Jefferson slams his fist on the table. "We need to settle this. Between your powerful warriors and my hoards of zombies, we could crush the Lightning Empire without any resistance. So are you in or out?"

"I ain't joinin' up with nobody who can't listen to my stories," Prometheus says indignantly. "That reminds me of when my grandson was runnin' his mouth all talking about this and that, callin' me old fashioned. I told him I was just using my damn common sense -"

Jefferson's head rotates to the left and his fist slams into the table once again.

"Goddamn it," Richard Nixon yells, "I've had just about enough of this shit! Zombies, kill these motherfuckers!"

Two zombies POP THE FUCK UP OUT OF THE GROUND and rip the niggas throats out with their teeth, the screams of the bodyguards replaced by copious amounts of blood shooting from their mouths. As they fall, Prometheus Jones stands up out of his chair, his white hair turning black and his muscles growing huge in size. He stands nearly a foot taller than he did before and clotheslines the heads off of the zombies.

"Nixon, I shoulda known," Prometheus says, the eyes of an old man replaced with the deadly focus of a young one. "Thomas Jefferson liked black people a lot more than that."

Nixon's voice quivers with anger, "That's right, I hate niggers and hippies! But I was going to put that aside for you, you ungrateful fuck! I still have more zombies! Attack, damn you!" On cue, ten zombies jump out of the walls.

"Jones, duck!" He does and a giant hammer flies over his head, smashing two zombies into the wall behind him. Jones grabs another one near him and lifts him up in a powerbomb when the BLACK MOTHERFUCKING JUDGE JUMPS OVER THERE AND HELPS SLAM HIM DOWN INTO THE TABLE BREAKING THAT FUCKING TABLE IN HALF.

"You goddamned fucking traitor! Black Judge, you work for me!" Nixon yells, "I'll have you executed!"

"Not if I execute you first, you fucking dick."

The Black Judge and Prometheus Jones go back to back, the Judge punching holes in faces and kicking zombies apart, while Jones delivers knife edge chops that slice the zombies open along the chest. Somehow, more hearts and lungs than should be in a human body fly out through the holes.

Nixon claps his hands on his head, "More zombies! I want more zombies! GODDAMN IT, I SAID MORE!" Even though it should be impossible given the size of the room, hundreds of zombies fill it.

"Well, boy," Jones says, smiling slightly, "Ya did good, but it looks like this is it for us."

"If only I could get to my gavel."

"Don't worry about it, we'll show those bastards we don't go down easy."
Big Fagot
Alpha ape
Joined: 09 Jan 2007
Posts: 10544
(Sat Mar 03, 2007 1:01 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

If you can't kill hundreds of zombies then what are you doing in the FTUW!
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sat Mar 03, 2007 3:56 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

"No," the Judge says, "We're not going to die at all."

Prometheus grins and looks over his shoulder at his companion. "I knew you still had the fight in you, boy. Okay, what's the plan?"

"You said you were a professional wrestler, right? Can you do a Stunner?"

"Jesus God, boy," Prometheus' eyes open comically, "I'm not Stone Cold Steve Austin, but I'll try my best."

Prometheus kicks the nearest zombie (Even though, since there are so many zombies, the inner circle should all be about equidistant, but he is able to notice that one is about a millimeter closer than the rest.) in the stomach and turns rapidly. Before he falls, the Black Judge leaps into the air and then Jones comes down, the zombie's head flying off. The Stunner creates a massive shockwave that is visible in the air, causing all of the zombies in the room to explode into piles of rotten flesh.

"That's it, you fuckers, I'm calling in the cavalry," Nixon hits a button under the table. The door behind him opens up and two giants in black suits and wearing sunglasses step through. "I sent the Secret Secret Service to No Man's Land. Only two thirds of them survived, but now they have ten times the strength of the entire group each! Let's see you do your fancy little wrestling moves now, you goddamned hippies!"

"What's the plan now, Judge?" Prometheus asks, sweat dripping down his face. It had been a while since he got this kind of work out.

The Black Judge picks up his gavel. "First, let me explain that zombie bites turn you into zombies, Peter Jones, so with a room that full of zombies it would have only been a matter of minutes before something terrible happened."

"It's Prometheus, son. Prometheus."

"Oh, yeah. Well, let's keep the wrestling thing going, I'll fight the goons and tag you in. Maybe we'll do one of those tag team attacks where I'll pile drive on and then you jump down to help me pound his head into the ground."

"Sounds good."

The monster agents walk forward, their foot steps shattering the concrete under their feet. One opens its mouth and starts making gagging sounds and then MINIATURE SECRET SECRET SERVICE AGENT MONSTERS FALL OUT. The miniature agents are really just regular human sized, but they still have monstrous strength. The dozen creatures run forward at unbelievable speed, but the first one to reach the Black Judge gets swatted into the wall by the Judge's gavel, splattering him into radioactive chunks. The next two run full speed into his fists, impaling them, and then the Judge, with the monsters still on his arms, swing them around and the wet noodle like legs whip the remaining creatures' heads off.

"That was too easy, Nixon. Your monsters got any other tricks?"

Nixon stands up, "You're throwing away everything we promised you, but there's still a chance for you to get in our good graces again. All you have to do is kill Jones and we'll forget about all of this."

"I signed on to deal justice," the Judge replies, resting his giant gavel on his shoulder, "and this isn't justice."

"I'll show you justice, you fucking hippie," Nixon growls. "Agent Blood Eagle, kill these sons a bitches."

Agent Blood Eagle steps forward and stares down the Black Judge. The Judge smiles back, "Heh, let's see what you can do, big man. Your partner's no fun."

Without answering, Blood Eagle turns his back toward the Judge and strains until the sound of bones breaking can be heard. Nixon can barely contain his excitement as Blood Eagle's ribs burst out of his back, extending into long spikes and exposing his organs. The Judge grimaces as he watches the lungs fill with air.

"This is it, you son of a bitch," Nixon says.

THEN THE FUCKING LUNGS EXPLODE SENDING A TORRENT OF ACIDIC BLOOD FLYING STRAIGHT AT THE BLACK JUDGE. HE BARELY ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY. EYES OPEN UP IN THE BACK OF BLOOD EAGLE'S HEAD SO HE CAN FOLLOW HIS PREY'S MOVEMENTS AND HE TURNS TO FOLLOW AS THE ACID NEVER STOPS FLOWING. THE JUDGE JUMPS BACKWARD TO ESCAPE THE ACID BLOOD, BUT IT KEEPS PUMPING, BURNING AWAY THE FLOOR JUST INCHES AHEAD OF HIM.

"Tag me in, Black Judge" Prometheus yells.

The call momentarily distracts him and the acid burns through the Black Judge's boot and he falls, their hands slapping before he hits the ground.

Prometheus cracks his knuckles, "It's time to get ugly."

Prometheus starts doing a spinning clothesline, moving so fast that he takes off like a helicopter. Nixon screams, "Get him, Blood Eagle! Stop that fucking nigger!" Blood Eagle's lungs had regenerated and then start filling with air. Prometheus turns horizontal, flying toward Blood Eagle, whose lungs explode again, sending another wave of acid, BUT THE SPEED OF PROMETHEUS' SPINNING CAUSES THE AIR PRESSURE TO BLOW THE ACID BACK AT BLOOD EAGLE, BURNING OFF HIS CLOTHES.

One of Prometheus' bodyguards, barely alive, says, "Dey ... spinnin'. Dey spinnin'," and then dies.

Prometheus lands on Blood Eagle's back and grabs his spine. The ribs extend, coming together and closing on Prometheus, pinning him down. The other goon-agent laughs like a retard.

"That's it! Now melt that son of a bitch!" Nixon's fists shake in anticipation.

BUT IT'S TOO GODDAMNED SOON FOR TRICKY DICK AS PROMETHEUS BREAKS THROUGH THE RIBS, SHATTERING THEM INTO HUNDREDS OF SHARDS, AND RIPS THE SPINE OUT. BLOOD EAGLE SCREAMS OUT IN PAIN WHILE JONES CALLS OUT TO THE JUDGE, "YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO!" THE BLACK JUDGE RUNS UP AND JUMPS, GOING THROUGH THE HOLE PROMETHEUS MADE AND PUNCHING OUT OF THE OTHER SIDE, BREAKING THE GIANT GOON IN HALF.

Prometheus slings the top half over his shoulder, holding it by the spine. The lungs fall out and the Black Judge picks them up. Squeezing them, acid blood fires out into the face of the goon spitting goon, who recoils in pain.

"It's over, Dick. We're going to kill you and turn the New Empire of the Damned over to Gigi," the Judge says. Gigi blushes, which through her insanely pale skin is almost painful to look at.

The goon with the melted face walks blindly. The white fluid that used to be his eyes run down his cheeks. The Black Judge raises his hammer and then brings it down, smashing the entire goon's body into the floor causing a huge crater.

"You think those two were the best we've got? Do you have any idea where this bunker is located?" Dick's face rotates again and becomes Abe Lincoln. "Agent Golem, show these men that this house is not divided against itself."

The ground shakes and everyone can feel themselves raising up. It feels like a fucking earthquake. The doors to the room close and seal shut as if they had never been there.

"We're inside of the most powerful of the Secret Secret Service agents, sirs. Our mobile base, Agent Golem." Abe puts on his stovepipe hat while watching the stone creatures step through the walls.
Magic Juan
Joined: 10 Jan 2007
Posts: 8709
(Sat Mar 03, 2007 4:54 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

It's awesome that you're promoing for people who aren't your wrestlers.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sat Mar 03, 2007 5:00 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

Oh, it connects, I just got carried away. I meant for all of this to be a lot shorter. Like contained-in-one-promo shorter. But whatever, it's awesome.
Big Fagot
Alpha ape
Joined: 09 Jan 2007
Posts: 10544
(Sat Mar 03, 2007 6:28 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

It says volumes about Prometheus Jones that he's mastered even a primitive form of the Stunner.
My Head Hurts 90
Joined: 19 Jan 2007
Posts: 3445
(Sat Mar 03, 2007 9:50 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

Prometheus Jones is the greatest character of all time.
Yogurtman
Odin
Joined: 03 Jan 2007
Posts: 2248
(Sat Mar 03, 2007 10:20 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

Fucking President Rushmore is awesome.

I did not expect that.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sun Mar 04, 2007 1:34 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

The ebony and ivory fists fly furiously, shattering the stone creatures, but no matter how many they destroy, new ones form. The Black Judge explodes one with his hammer and then looks toward Jones, who is breathing heavily. It's taking him several punches to take a golem down and his hair is starting to turn white.

"Prometheus," The Black Judge yells, "What's happening to you?"

"That Stunner, it took too much of my strength," Jones explains, "I'm turning back into an old man. We need to figure out a way to win or else we're dead."

"They just keep regenerating and the doors are gone. I tried breaking the walls with my gavel, but they just heal before I can swing again."

Black tears run down Gigi's face as she's forced to watch the horror in front of her. It looks hopeless, but she can't let those two men die, men who dared to stand up to the Secret President. She looks at her son, still playing with the zombie eyes, and lifts him up into her lap.

"Raven, you have to help those men," she says.

He looks at the battle behind him. With each punch he throws, Prometheus Jones' muscles shrink. The baby nods his head and raises a hand. The rotted flesh of the zombies swirl around the room and reform into a giant zombie.

Jones stares in amazement, "What in God's name?"

"What madness is this?" Lincoln asks and then he realizes what is going on. "You ... Your son is a demon?"

Gigi shakes her head as the giant zombie swings its fists, exploding the golems into rubble. Still, it's as useless as before, every time one is crushed a new one takes its place. "Raven, you have to get us out of here." The boy nods and the zombie effortlessly punches through the wall. When the wall tries to reassemble itself, the zombie uses its giant hands to hold the hole open.

The zombie, using its tongue made out of hundreds of smaller tongues, says, "Jump out." Jones and the Black Judge run and leap through the hole that finally fixes itself as soon as they're through.

Just outside, Jones' body completely reverts to old man form. "Gawdammit," he mumbles falling to his doom, hundreds of feet above the ground. The Black Judge falls after him, straightening out to make himself more aerodynamic, and then grabs Jones' hand while turning to bury his gavel into the chest of Agent Golem.

"We gotta climb to the top, son," the old man says, "My plane is parked on this damned monster's head. That reminds me of the time back in '66 when I was going to a civil rights march. Boy, those white folk weren't happy about that. I was almost fired, but I was the champion of my federation, you see, so they didn't want to lose me. Did I tell you about my title fight in '58? It, uh, hmm. I can't remember who I fought, but damned if I didn't flatten that fool. He cried for mercy, but I said, 'Ain't no mercy in this ring,' I said. Oh no, I had no mercy in those days. Still don't. Heh heh, boy, those were the days." Prometheus continues to ramble on about shit nobody cares about while slung over the Black Judge's shoulder and finally they get to the top of Agent Golem's head.

Agent Golem tries to smash the two, but the Judge is able to avoid the blows. He throws Jones into the back seat of the plane and gets behind the controls.

"How do you fly this thing?" the Judge asks.

"Damned if I know," Jones shrugs. "My bodyguards flew it. They played that loud gangsta rap nonsense. I don't understand none of that trash. Just a bunch of young folk talkin' over music they ain't playing, all jabberin' about I'mma kill this guy and this guy and they don't know what real fightin' is about. My grandson, boy, he's all nigga this and nigga that and I try to tell him to have more respect for himself, but kids don't listen to their elders no more. It's a damn shame is what it is. I tol' my son, I said, 'You need to teach that boy some manners,' 'cause he's just gonna end up in the streets doin' heron or whatever it is kids are doin' these days."

Somewhere in the middle of that, the Black Judge just pressed some buttons and flew off.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sun Mar 04, 2007 3:04 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

The last promo was mediocre because I couldn't figure out how to get them out of that situation.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Tue Mar 06, 2007 10:39 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

Somewhere in Warrior Land, Deimos battles dozens of goons, their faces baring the signature war paint of the Ultimate Warrior. This gang had rebelled against the Warrior government (Warrior Warrior), claiming that their leader had strayed too far from his roots.

"FOR THE WAY OF THE WARRIOR!" one calls out before an ax cleaves his upper body in twain. The two sides droop in opposite directions and the goon tries to pull the halves together, grasping his hands together, but the job is completed when a kick to the dick splits the rest of his body apart.

Deimos throws two Spartan swords into the chest of one warrior, which pins him to the goon behind him. He pulls out a sniper rifle and aims it at the first goons heart, pulling the trigger and exploding both of their torsos. A goon tries to sneak up behind him, but Deimos turns, grabbing the goons shoulders and kneeing him in the chest causing an indentation to form in the goon's back.

"Step aside, pussies," the largest goon says, smirking. His entire body is covered in neon green and pink armbands. "This is Deimos, a true warrior. The heir to our disowned Warrior. Join us, Deimos, and you will be our new god." The goon holds out his hand for a handshake.

"Hhn," Deimos mumbles while pointing a gun at the man's head. "Caligula hired me to kill you guys. He said it was his duty to protect the domain of a friend of the empire."

"We're friends of the empire as well!" the goon exclaims. "My name is John Murderfist and I respect Caligula for restoring order to America. I feel it is the duty of the people of his America to protect his order by force, ousting ineffective leaders. Surely you cannot blame us for that? Please, offer me your hand as a sign of our mutual understanding."

"I guess I can do that. I must admit, it's a flattering offer."

Deimos drops his pistol to the ground and steps forward, extending a hand in return. As their palms touch, John Murderfist clasps his fist around Deimos' wrist.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT, NOW YOU'LL SEE WHY I'M CALLED MURDERFIST!" Murderfist's FIST flies toward Deimos, his knuckles made of mini-chainsaws that rev up when he makes a FIST. But centimeters from Deimos' face, Murderfist's arm stops and then falls limp.

USING HIS FREE ARM, DEIMOS PUNCHED A FUCKING HOLE THROUGH MURDERFIST'S CHEST. A PISTOL APPEARS IN DEIMOS' HAND AND HE SHOOTS THE REMAINING GOONS BETWEEN THE EYES, USING MURDERFIST'S CORPSE AS A SHIELD.

"I'm tired of all this senseless killing," he says. "What's the point of murdering people if they can't even put up a decent fight? Even the monsters from No Man's Land are barely a challenge anymore."

"You're tired of killing already? It's only been two years," Phobos replies. "I suppose your perspective changes when you've lived for thousands of years."

"I love killing. Maybe tired is the wrong word. Killing has left me more fulfilled than all those wasted years filling out pointless paperwork ever did. I just want someone who might be able to kill me."

"Humans are ridiculous creatures. Death is so appealing to them from a distance."

Just then ball of zombies fall out of the sky. Deimos wipes zombie flesh from his armor depicting the sacking of Persepolis. He looks toward the sky and a flock of zombie crows are flying away. The sound of the zombie ball breaking open calls his attention as a zombie crawls out. A tube is going through his chest.

"Note ..." the zombie says weakly pointing to the tube. "... note for ... you."

Deimos pulls out the note and reads it.

"T ... Tip ... please ..."

A sword appears in Deimos' hand and he cuts open Murderfist's skull. The zombie falls to his knees and feasts on the fresh brains.

"I'm curious, human, what does it say?"

"The Secret President wants me to kill the Black Judge."
Big Fagot
Alpha ape
Joined: 09 Jan 2007
Posts: 10544
(Tue Mar 06, 2007 11:09 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

Can it possibly be that ALL goons have the words murder and/or rape in their names?
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Tue Mar 06, 2007 11:14 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

Yeah, I was thinking about that fact while I was writing my promo and I just decided, fuck it, cpsaros.tripod.com.

I think all of my other goons haven't had murder or rape in their names.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Thu Mar 08, 2007 7:35 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

"Prometheus," the Black Judge looks back into the passenger seat, "how did you get a working air plane?"

"Oh yeah, our scientists have been working on that," Jones nods. "It runs on doo-doo."

"What?"

"It took a month's worth of doo-doo to get here."

"Jesus Christ."

"Yeah, it's pretty bad, it reminds me of this one time -" Prometheus is cut off when he hears a noise. "The hell is that?"

The Black Judge raises his head just in time to see a sword smash through the glass. "Fuck!" IT'S FUCKING DEIMOS.

"Gotta get this shitfucker off the plane, hold on," the Judge says in a very intense way and then does a fucking barrel roll. Deimos falls off. "Well, that was easy. I wonder how he got up there."

"Damn if I know. I saw somethin' like this in 1966. The police done ran up to us at a civil rights protest and they turned on them goddamn hoses and, boy, everybody was fallin' this way and that. I slipped up and near cracked my head open, I tell you it was crazy. So, this Negro falls out the damn sky on this police's head and beats the hell outta all of 'em. So I sees it and decide I'll help him out. So I start bodyslammin' and elbow droppin' and all sorts of things and by the time we was done, all them polices was dead. Didn't mean to, but there wasn't no witnesses, so we got away with it. Never asked that man his name, though. Wish I knew, I'd tell you."

AND THEN TWO KNIVES FLY THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD AND STAB JONES IN THE SHOULDERS.

"Gawdammit, I just bought this shirt." Jones starts flexing and his shirt explodes as his muscles grow. "Land this damn plane, we're going to fight him." He pulls the knives out of his body. "Shit, that hurts."

"I don't know how to land, I've never flown a plane before," the Judge says.

BUT IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER BECAUSE THE DOO-DOO TANK EXPLODES, SENDING SHIT FLYING EVERYWHERE. AS THE PLANE FALLS OUT OF THE SKY, DEIMOS GRABS ON TO THE WING.

Somewhere in a field, a man tills his field. At the end of the month, his taxes are due so he needs these crops. He had to eat his horse, so he has to do all of the field work himself. He looks into the sky and wipes the sweat off of his brow. It was another hard day, but in this New America it was his only way to survive without risking his live in senseless wars. It just wasn't worth it.

He looks back to his house. His wife opens the door to their small country home with a pitcher of lemonade. She calls out to him, telling him to take a short break. It's a tempting offer, but he mulls it over in his mind, knowing that he needs to finish before the sun goes down. There's no electricity and he needs the light. Finally, he drops his hoe and heads toward the house and his wife smiles at him.

"Come on, honey," she tells him. "You've been working so hard, you deserve it."

"You're right, but we need this crop or else the tax collector will cut my arm off," he looks at the ground. "We don't have any children to help us because ..."

"I know," she says. She recalls the moment when the tax collector, Harry Cox, that fat son of a bitch, and his men came six months ago. A tear ran down her cheek. "Just rest now."

The farmer feigns a smile and continues walking. A sound pierces his ear drums, but he can't find the source of it. The sun blinds his eyes and he can't shield them fast enough.

His home explodes. His wife.

He falls to his knees. There was no reason to go on, now. In the flames of what used to be his house, three men climb out of the heap of metal that destroyed the farmer's life. He can't even cry because of the shock. His wife. His children. He sees their heads on Harry Cox's pole, telling him that this is what happens to people who don't pay up.

Just kill me, he thinks. God, I know I couldn't believe in you after what happened to my life, to America, but please help me now.

His prayers are answered in the form of a half ton of shit.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Fri Mar 09, 2007 6:47 pm)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

A huge kitchen is filled with the sounds of sizzling meat and clanking pots, pans, silverware and plates. Chefs run back and forth, one carrying trays of food out. The dishes are covered in egg rolls, fried rice and pork. The waiter lays out the various foods on a long table. A man with shaved head and a long fu manchu and wearing a silk robe sits at the top of the table, his wife to his left with her head bowed. On the other end, his son and daughter sit.

The waiter scoops out a bowlful of fried rice and then an egg roll in front of the man with the fu manchu. He takes a bite out of the egg roll, gripped between chopsticks. He nods his head with a grim look. The waiter bows and then serves the rest of his family. Fu Manchu then raises the fried rice to his mouth.

"Who prepared this meal?"

"Sir, it was the new apprentice, I believe his name is Joshua," the waiter responds, avoiding eye contact.

"Hmm," Fu Manchu says and then stands up. He strips off his silk robe, completely nude. He strokes his moustache as he walks to the kitchen. When he pushes the door open all of the chefs stop in their tracks. The nude Fu Manchu grabs his blood stained apron. Next to the apron are two three foot long butcher knives. Fu Manchu grabs one, then heads for Joshua.

"You prepared the fried rice?" Fu Manchu asks.

Joshua bows deeply, "Yes, sir. Thank you for taking me under your wing."

Fu Manchu strokes his moustache and looks at Joshua, "Tell me, do you know what you did incorrectly?"

"What?"

Fu Manchu grabs Joshua's wrist and slams his hand on a cutting board.

"GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN. YOU WILL NEVER COOK AGAIN." The butcher knife slams down, the apprentice's hand severed. He falls to his knees screaming for help.

"No one ruins food in my home," Fu Manchu says, pointing his butcher knife at everyone. "Never in the home of the Chinese Kombo King." He rests the knife on his shoulder and turns to leave.

AND THEN A MAN FLIES THROUGH THE WALL, COVERED IN ARMOR AND A HELMET. He slides down to the floor. A shotgun appears in his hand and he uses it to prop himself up. He fires through the hole, but a giant hammer smashes him against the wall again. Hitting the floor, he cocks the shotgun and shoots the Black Judge in the shins. The Black Judge falls, but the two start trading blows on the floor.

"WHO DARES TO DEFILE MY KITCHEN!" The Kombo King grabs his other butcher knife. "YOU WILL ANSWER TO ME!" He swings the knives around, slicing the assistant chefs open, sending blood flying.

The two men look up and the Black Judge hops to his feet. Deimos trips him in front of the Kombo King, who drops both butcher knives down, but the Judge swings his gavel. The knives dig into the wood, knocking the hammer down into the Judge's chest. The Black Judge coughs up blood. The Kombo King looks up and throws his butcher knives, pinning Deimos to the wall with the knives crossing in front of his neck.

"I will drink your marrow and cook your flesh." An inexplicable wind blows through the kitchen, exposing the Kombo King's genitals.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sat Mar 10, 2007 1:09 am)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

"The Kombo King ..." Deimos says under his breath.

The Kombo King jumps over the Black Judge's body like a blur and begins punching Deimos' torso, each blow denting his armor. Deimos tries to grab the Yellow Menace's arms, but he can't even see them with the blades blocking his vision. Finally the armor gives, exploding into shrapnel as the Kombo King's fist twists into Deimos' stomach. The King pulls his knives out of the wall and then backflips, kicking the assassin in the face.

"Eight Great Traditions, Anhui Style - Steamed Stone Frog!" The King flexes his muscles, his skin turning from yellow to deep red. He exhales and then steam starts rising from his body. The Kombo King leaps into the air and drop kicks Deimos, setting his skin on fire.

Deimos pats it out with his gloved hands, looking up when he hears the next technique name.

"Hunan Style - Four Thousand Dishes!" Kombo King cracks his knuckles and lets loose a flurry of punches into the air. When the punches end, Deimos stands AND THEN HE IS HIT BY FOUR THOUSAND PHANTOM PUNCHES, KNOCKING HIM OVER A COUNTER.

"This wasn't in the contract," Deimos pulls himself up. "Okay, asshole, you're a tough guy." Deimos raises his arms and two machine guns appear in each hand. "But can you dodge bullets?"

At the instant the triggers are pulled, Kombo King raises his butcher knives and shouts, "ANHUI STYLE - STEWED TURTLE SHELL!" THE KNIVES SWING FAST, CREATING AN ALMOST SOLID WALL OF STAINLESS STEEL, RICOCHETING BULLETS IN ALL DIRECTIONS, KILLING HIS KITCHEN STAFF. Finally the gun fire stops and the Kombo King buries his knives in the floor and grins at Deimos.

"Fool, you'll never beat a master chef."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Look down."

About a half dozen holes go through his apron and blood runs down his skin. He looks back up in shock before collapsing onto his back.

"Only one thing left to do before I collect my pay check," Deimos says matter-of-factly. He drops his guns to the floor and slides over the counter in front of him. Marching up to the giant gavel, he fails to realize one thing.

"MOTHERFUCKER!"

THE BLACK JUDGE FALLS FROM THE CEILING AND BOTH MEN PUNCH EACH OTHER IN THE JAWS AT THE SAME TIME, FLINGING THEM IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS.

The warped bronze helmet digs into Deimos' face so he pulls it off. A long cut runs across his face, from his mouth to his ear. His black hair is matted with sweat to his head.

"You had better be worth it, you son of a bitch."

"You owe a debt, shitdicker," the Black Judge says, "You'll pay with your blood."

"Don't make me fucking laugh. I've heard all about your law and order bullshit. All of that died with America," Deimos wipes away the blood, "The only rules anymore are the ones the strong make. Your pussy ideals will get you killed." He brandishes two Spartan swords.

"If the rules are made by the strong, then Justice is still alive as long as I am." The Judge rips off his cape, revealing torn clothing, a white undershirt and slacks. "It's time for me to prove it."

"For America, then. Let's rock."
Seru
Custom titles are for heroes, like me.
Joined: 08 Jan 2007
Posts: 11012
(Sat Mar 10, 2007 1:17 am)
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Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

I kind of wish the only SOILER I remember from the original super fucking secret booker's forum had nothing to do with these promos.

Oh well!
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sat Mar 10, 2007 1:21 am)
Reply

Post     Re: The Personification of Dread

I'm not sure I even remember any of the soilers we posted outside of the timeline, which I don't think revealed anything important. That timeline is pretty much invalid now. We've changed a lot of stuff since then.

I think I know what you're talking about, but I didn't think we posted that.
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