The Ninja Epidemic
"I don't want them Bo." You tell him. "I need to have a clear head with all these ninjas running around."
He grins a shit-eating grin. "I still say you's on something if you's seein' ninjas in the first place. But if you don't want the pills, I reckon that's fine by me. I'll just take them all myself." He happily pops the pills into his mouth and reaches into his truck for an open Pabst Blue Ribbon in a koozer (a koozer is one of those things that hillbillies put around thier beer cans to keep them cool longer), taking the pills down with three big gulps of beer.
"Are you supposed to take those with alcohol?" You ask him.
"Shoot. This ain't alcohol," He informs you, "This here is beer."
Your about to protest but realise that it is a lost cause. "What did you bring me?" You ask.
His sparesly toothed grin spreads from ear to ear. "You come take a look now." He says. removing the tarp from the bed of his truck.
Staring into the bed of his truck, you nearly drop a load in your pants. "Holy shit" escapes your mouth as you stare at his supply.
Your cousin is laughing and slaps you on the back. "We gonna kill us some ninjas."
You sure as hell are. There are four 45s, three assault rifles, two sawed off shotguns, an ak-47, a couple revolvers, bullets out the ass, and...
"Is that a rocket launcher?" You ask.
Bo starts laughing. "It shore is."
Damn. This should all be pretty usefull for kicking ninjas asses.
"Come here." Your cousin tells you, and you follow him the the cab of the truck where he hands you a small crate. It's fairly heavy and you carefully set it on the ground. You open in to find it full of grenades.
"Fuck an A." You say. "How many are in there?"
"Close to fifty. I don't know fer shore. I ain't no mathematacist."
You look at him like he's an idiot but he doesn't seem to notice. He's probably used to it. "What do I get to use?" You ask.
"Here." He says, handing you two revolvers and a sawed-off shotgun. "I dont reckon yer ready fer the automatics. Grab yerself some o' them there grenades too."
You pull about five grenades from the box and shove them in your pocket. Bo looks at you.
"You ready to kill these hallucinations of yers?" He asks you.
You nod. "Yeah. But they're not hallucinations."
"I'm shore they ain't" He replies. "Where do ya reckon we should start?"
"I don't know." You tell him. "They just kind of show up sometimes."
You tell him that you need to call your friends over so they can help kill the ninjas. Who do you call first?
He grins a shit-eating grin. "I still say you's on something if you's seein' ninjas in the first place. But if you don't want the pills, I reckon that's fine by me. I'll just take them all myself." He happily pops the pills into his mouth and reaches into his truck for an open Pabst Blue Ribbon in a koozer (a koozer is one of those things that hillbillies put around thier beer cans to keep them cool longer), taking the pills down with three big gulps of beer.
"Are you supposed to take those with alcohol?" You ask him.
"Shoot. This ain't alcohol," He informs you, "This here is beer."
Your about to protest but realise that it is a lost cause. "What did you bring me?" You ask.
His sparesly toothed grin spreads from ear to ear. "You come take a look now." He says. removing the tarp from the bed of his truck.
Staring into the bed of his truck, you nearly drop a load in your pants. "Holy shit" escapes your mouth as you stare at his supply.
Your cousin is laughing and slaps you on the back. "We gonna kill us some ninjas."
You sure as hell are. There are four 45s, three assault rifles, two sawed off shotguns, an ak-47, a couple revolvers, bullets out the ass, and...
"Is that a rocket launcher?" You ask.
Bo starts laughing. "It shore is."
Damn. This should all be pretty usefull for kicking ninjas asses.
"Come here." Your cousin tells you, and you follow him the the cab of the truck where he hands you a small crate. It's fairly heavy and you carefully set it on the ground. You open in to find it full of grenades.
"Fuck an A." You say. "How many are in there?"
"Close to fifty. I don't know fer shore. I ain't no mathematacist."
You look at him like he's an idiot but he doesn't seem to notice. He's probably used to it. "What do I get to use?" You ask.
"Here." He says, handing you two revolvers and a sawed-off shotgun. "I dont reckon yer ready fer the automatics. Grab yerself some o' them there grenades too."
You pull about five grenades from the box and shove them in your pocket. Bo looks at you.
"You ready to kill these hallucinations of yers?" He asks you.
You nod. "Yeah. But they're not hallucinations."
"I'm shore they ain't" He replies. "Where do ya reckon we should start?"
"I don't know." You tell him. "They just kind of show up sometimes."
You tell him that you need to call your friends over so they can help kill the ninjas. Who do you call first?