Check if I still have the remote on me. If so, turn on the TV and watch competitive knife catching, amateur edition. If not, imagine I am watching competitive knife catching, amateur edition. If imagination fails me, have a nice nap instead.
You flail your arm around weakly and find the remote wedged into the couch cushions. You can't summon the strength to pull it out, but you can hit some of the buttons. You turn the Tv on and press through the channels till you lose all feeling in your arm. You're not sure what's on the channel you stopped, but you're pretty sure you saw breasts and gore within 3 seconds of eachother, so it's probably pretty good.
"Ya."
She hands you a very childish looking pamphlet with "MR.LASER RIFLE" written on top above a cartoon image of a smiling laser rifle. Oh dear.
If he acts like he's going to surrender, kneecap him.
((The T-800, after John tells him he can't kill anyone:
John: (after the T-800 kneecaps a guard) Hey, you promised!
T-800: (examines the guard, who is still yelling in agony) He'll live.
))
((Good thinking!))
Maybe a warning shot will work. Maybe it'll even hit him.
Fire a single shot at him without slowing. Keep up the pursuit.
[con:6-1]
You bring up your rifle and take aim, trying to bring the man down with a non-lethal shot. You breathe out and wait, concentrating, waiting for his leg to line up with your shot. You squeeze the trigger at just the right instant and the man falls, splashing into the mud with a startled grunt.
Pull Press the button!
You press the first button marked "Prime" and the little machine beeps out a cheery chime and buzzes as some ancient battery within awakens for the first time in countless years. The top of the machine slides open and a metal cuff unfurls and folds out.
"PLACE ARM IN CUFF"
The machine demands in a tinny voice.
You slip your arm into the cuff and the machine tightens down automatically.
"BEGIN STEP TWO"
"Can't really do much else unless I want to wear this as jewelry for the rest of my life." You mutter, pressing the "SAMPLE" button.
You feel something jab into your wrist and stay there for several seconds before retracting.
"SAMPLE COMPLETE. BEGIN STEP 3."
You press the "PROCESS" button.
"PROCESSING."
For several seconds the machine does nothing but hum and whir before beeping again and releasing your arm.
"SAMPLE PROCESSED. PRODUCT GENELOCKED.
Genelock is a trademark of Beat-all corp. "
The top of the machine opens again, unfurling a long metal belt and a clasp.
"PLEASE SECURE DEVICE TO CHEST, ALIGNING ARROWS TO EITHER SIDE OF THE STERNUM."
You shrug and do as the machine asks, strapping the belt around your chest and tightening it in place after making sure it's correctly aligned. The machine autotightens it a bit more and then beeps.
"BEGIN STEP 4"
You press the button marked inject. The machine beeps again and you feel another needle prick on your chest.
"Oh, thats not so ba-"
And then a hollow 4 inch wide drill bit extends from inside the machine's casing and begins drilling straight through your chest. You don't feel it, but the sound bone and meat shredding and the copious amounts of blood oozing down from under the machine and out across your legs and bedspread is enough to make you feel very ill. You can vaguely feel the drill penetrate your chest chavity with a dull clunk and suddenly you can't breathe and nothing but a taste of metal and blood is coming up.
"INJECTING"
And then you don't even notice the fact that you're suffocating over the 5 pounds of razorblades that the machine begins pumping straight through the fresh hole in your chest. You gurgle and sputter, your body shivering and spasming involuntarily.
"COMPLETE. BEGIN STEP 5."
You paw weakly at the machine with blood slick fingers and dying vision until you find the "ACTIVATE" button and press it. You pass out even as the cheery chime plays again and that damn tinny voice announces: "THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE"
You wake up some time later and immediately look down at yourself. You're still covered in blood and the machine is laying off to the side, it's strap loose around you, but you feel no pain and you don't look injured. You touch your chest and your bones are all back. You sit up to get a better look and suddenly realize you can feel your legs again and that your spine is no longer flayed out of your back. You pat yourself all over, trying to find something that doesn't feel fine and you can't find anything. Well, besides your stomach, you're goddamn starving. You put your hand on your belly and immediately pull it back when you feel something moving inside.