In respect of the fallen, and in an attempt to get that awesome 'ascendant' feeling again, you strip your deceased comra brother in arms naked, then yourself (except the pants, which won't come off) and put on his stuff. Man, getting your underpants off and his on without taking your pants off was ridiculous and you're still not entirely sure how you did it. You get the feeling that the universe is crying out at the mockery you're making of physics, but physics aren't American. They're German. And you're pretty sure the Germans never managed to beat you at anything.
None of the clothes seem to do anything, but the underwear is mighty comfy. It's probably the lack of skid-marks. You decide to give some of the clothing patriotic names anyway. It makes you feel better.
You're getting kind of bored now. You salute the now naked man who you totally didn't kill, and stride out into the harsh, red-orange daylight, totally forgetting that you were attacked by unseen assailants out here. Luckily, any enemies who might have given you trouble are dead and there is no sniper. But there very well might have been. You should probably be more careful.
Suddenly you decide you have the munchies and you make plans to head to the nearest Burger Town or Burger Town equivalent and possibly engage in a dramatic shootout there with some wait no, what are you talking about. You head off in that general direction, which is luckily down the street and to the left, and arrive at King Cock, your town's unfortunately named fried chicken joint. The place is a mess, with food and blood strewn all over the place. In the corner is a dismembered, disemboweled corpse. Somehow, it puts you off your food. You realize that you don't really have a real goal here, and sit down to meditate on the situation, slinging your tommy gun over your shoulder. You sit and ponder for a while, but something is distracting you. A... powerful urge to look... look...
You look to your right, straight at the wall. Somewhere in that direction is a baseball diamond. It's calling to you.
What do you do?
Wearing:
Mask of Sensibility
PANTS OF LIBERTY
SHIRT OF DEMOCRATIC VALUES
UNDERPANTS OF NOT-FULL-OF-TERROR-SHIT
Steel capped boots
Helmet
Kevlar vest
Inventory:
Wallet ($90)
Wrist Watch (12:53)
Valium (too much)
Scum
Sock ($1000)
Colt 45 (0/0)
Backpack (5 clips - Thompson) (Rations - unAmerican (4))
Water bottle (full)
Thompson (average) (30/3)
Desert Eagle (slightly better than average) (BULLETS ARE PATRIOTIC) (4/10)
Babe Ruthless (PATRIOTIC) (proficient) (bayonet) (covered in blood)
Wielding:
Mental State:
That's that baseball diamond they built last summer, isn't it?
I will come.
Author
Topic: America Prevails (Read 25753 times)