The DV8's

Food Fight

Lemme tell you how I met Zany

I am just hanging out with Red, Doc, Scratch & Yin at the apartments, just arguing about anything and everything, when Scratch announces that he is heading to resupply smokes and beers. Like any friend, we all shout our requests to him of what we need picked up while his is out. After he tells us to go frax ourselves, so we get up off our collective asses and pile in available rides to head down to the Stuffer Shack and resupply our dwindled eats and drinks.

We get to the Stuffer Shack and take off in different directions as fast as we can. There is around a dozen people here shopping for whatever. I make it to the Hawt-n-Ready Make it Yerself Pizza┬« turntable, and start piling on the Jalape├▒os when I stop dead in my tracks. Sitting on the counter across from me is a stunningly beautiful woman with a skimpy pair of cut-offs, a lacy halter top and a leather jacket with a skull with a icicle in one of it’s eyes on the back patch. Probably some band logo, I guess. As I am sitting there, about ready to drop the “You come here often” line, while trying to blatantly ignore Scratch yelling at me from across the Shack, asking me if he already bought ‘The Bat, the Cat and the Hey What’s That? Vol XI,’ Ultra XXX SimSense chip, when a scream from the teller breaks my concentration, followed by the firing of a shotgun. As expected, that has a pretty normal effect. People run, people scream – chaos ensues. In the front door come three dudes waving their guns around like they are patriotic flags. One of them shouts something about being king of the sprawl and collecting taxes. Hmm, they also have the skull with the icicle in the eye patch. Seemingly less like grouples more like a gang, me suspects. I don’t need to look up to see what the others are going to do as I draw my gun and fire at the clown with the roomsweeper.

Gunfire erupts from all around as the rest of the crew also start joining the fray. From the corner of my eye, I see this babe on the counter is digging a pistol from out of her jacket. Not very nice, so I grab her collar from behind and jerk her off the counter and to the floor. She lands hard and the wind is knocked out of her. Keeping a firm hand on her, I just glower at her and say, “Don’t, that’d be a real dumb move.” I don’t really want to shoot her, I’d like her number, actually. She has a weird and kinda quizzical expression looking at me, but doesn’t put up a struggle, so I get up and continue firing, dropping the clown at the counter. That apparently angered one of his buddies, who was in here before the hold up – probably a ringer in here, casing the joint. He charges at me, weapons hot. He tags me, but is ‘are foured’ by Red who is now standing on and end cap, guns a blazing like a movie star in a slow-motion action sequence. Brazen, I’m impressed.

I hear some screams from down the isles on the other and and see a troubling scene. Our resident shaved-headed monk, Yin is ripping apart a couple of celebrity wannabe’s, who are simply trying to get away from this. This troubles me. I make a note that this needs to be addressed before we head out on another mission. I turn back and check out the babe, to see that she is unconscious, and Scratch is standing over her with the smell of ozone that comes from one using shock gloves. Hmmm, that makes tough to ask for her number now. I really want to punch him, again.

The sounds of gunfire are ebbing off, and a quick scan shows that all of us are standing, while the gangers are not. Even Yin, is acting normal – well, normal for a man who just went berserk and slaughtered two innocent people. Bad time for the gangers to knock over a Stuffer Shack, I guess. I quickly jot down my number on a napkin and tuck it in the inside pocket of the babe’s jacket. Hey, I can hope. I bring up my pizza and check out. Wanda stammers that we can keep what we have, but we better slot and run before the Lone Star show up. Sounds like a good idea. As we leave, I spot Scratch grabbing the movie. Dwarves….

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Phayt

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