Post by Hat Salesman on Dec 11, 2008 17:03:39 GMT -5
I'd just like to point out that my other story will be updated as I promised. I'll juggle them, okay?
"Brothers..."
CHAPTER 1: The Contract
Alteon tapped hit watch. His chainmail gloves clinked against it. "We're meeting at the vacation house at seven o' clock sharp. Got it, Jack? Alexei?"
Smokin' Assassin snarled and let his cigarette roll to the other side of his mouth. "Damn it, my name is not Jack around civilians! We can't be associating ourselves with them right now, not with our... employer... keeping such a close eye on us! A normal name will draw suspicion! Call me SA or something."
Alteon let a smile form on his face. "SA? What the hell are you, a college paper?"
Smokin' Assassin flung his fist at Alteon's face as his short temper exploded, but an invisible force held him back. He looked over his shoulder. "Damn it, Energon, keep your fucking psychic shit out of my head!"
Energon didn't move. He spoke to them both in his thick Russian accent. "Brothers, why do you fight? The hand moves to six already, and we do not want to be late!"
Alteon and Smokin' Assassin relaxed their muscles. Energon released his psychic grip on his brother's arm, who massaged it carefully. Alteon spoke up. "You're right. I'm heading there now. As long as you guys get there by seven, I'm fine."
The brothers split up. Alteon went toward The Cliff. Energon went to the bar for some Absolut vodka. Smokin' Assassin... We'll just ignore his taking of a skanky young lady to a motel room for now.
****
As the clock ticked toward seven, a number of things happened. A massive truck with a surprisingly soft engine drove right to the outside of the small house on The Cliff. Energon opened the door and hit a small button on his keychain. Suddenly, the truck disappeared. It was still there, as a bird learned when it broke its neck against the window. Energon opened the door and greeted his brother.
Minutes later, a Trans Am pulled up on the other side of the house. Smokin' Assassin pulled himself out via window, and walked lazily towards the front door. Before he could even knock, Alteon opened the door for him.
As the massive clock tower in Brawl City reached seven, a huge, resounding chorus of gongs went off. At the same time, a purple ball of flame erupted on the doorstep. A completely black man in a business suit appeared in it. The flame extinguished, he knocked on the door. It opened, of course.
"Ah, Mr. Omnipresence! Good to see you! Step right in..." Smokin' Assassin's best plastic smile was on his face.
"Yeah, yeah, sure. You know damned well why I'm here. You signed a contract, and you guys didn't fulfill your part of the bargain." The Omnipresence seated himself at the dinner table.
"You didn't fulfill yours, either," pointed out Alteon.
"Who gives a damn? I'm the guy with the fucking army that could fill Brawl City! I am Evil Incarnate!"
"That Zarth guy seems to be a bit worthier than you, bub," said Smokin' Assassin. "Given the chance, he'd whip your ass and make you suck his armor-plated dick."
The Omnipresence's face lit up with rage. "How dare you say that motherfucker's name in my presence!"
Smokin' Assassin shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just pointing out the truth." The others chuckled.
At this point, he could take it no longer. Purple fire engulfed his hands, and he raised them over his head. "SQUAD, ATTAAA- OOF!"
He dropped to the floor as the blunt end of a scythe bonked him on the head. The brothers chuckled again. They spoke in unison. "Hey there, Grimmy!"
CHAPTER 1: The Contract
Alteon tapped hit watch. His chainmail gloves clinked against it. "We're meeting at the vacation house at seven o' clock sharp. Got it, Jack? Alexei?"
Smokin' Assassin snarled and let his cigarette roll to the other side of his mouth. "Damn it, my name is not Jack around civilians! We can't be associating ourselves with them right now, not with our... employer... keeping such a close eye on us! A normal name will draw suspicion! Call me SA or something."
Alteon let a smile form on his face. "SA? What the hell are you, a college paper?"
Smokin' Assassin flung his fist at Alteon's face as his short temper exploded, but an invisible force held him back. He looked over his shoulder. "Damn it, Energon, keep your fucking psychic shit out of my head!"
Energon didn't move. He spoke to them both in his thick Russian accent. "Brothers, why do you fight? The hand moves to six already, and we do not want to be late!"
Alteon and Smokin' Assassin relaxed their muscles. Energon released his psychic grip on his brother's arm, who massaged it carefully. Alteon spoke up. "You're right. I'm heading there now. As long as you guys get there by seven, I'm fine."
The brothers split up. Alteon went toward The Cliff. Energon went to the bar for some Absolut vodka. Smokin' Assassin... We'll just ignore his taking of a skanky young lady to a motel room for now.
****
As the clock ticked toward seven, a number of things happened. A massive truck with a surprisingly soft engine drove right to the outside of the small house on The Cliff. Energon opened the door and hit a small button on his keychain. Suddenly, the truck disappeared. It was still there, as a bird learned when it broke its neck against the window. Energon opened the door and greeted his brother.
Minutes later, a Trans Am pulled up on the other side of the house. Smokin' Assassin pulled himself out via window, and walked lazily towards the front door. Before he could even knock, Alteon opened the door for him.
As the massive clock tower in Brawl City reached seven, a huge, resounding chorus of gongs went off. At the same time, a purple ball of flame erupted on the doorstep. A completely black man in a business suit appeared in it. The flame extinguished, he knocked on the door. It opened, of course.
"Ah, Mr. Omnipresence! Good to see you! Step right in..." Smokin' Assassin's best plastic smile was on his face.
"Yeah, yeah, sure. You know damned well why I'm here. You signed a contract, and you guys didn't fulfill your part of the bargain." The Omnipresence seated himself at the dinner table.
"You didn't fulfill yours, either," pointed out Alteon.
"Who gives a damn? I'm the guy with the fucking army that could fill Brawl City! I am Evil Incarnate!"
"That Zarth guy seems to be a bit worthier than you, bub," said Smokin' Assassin. "Given the chance, he'd whip your ass and make you suck his armor-plated dick."
The Omnipresence's face lit up with rage. "How dare you say that motherfucker's name in my presence!"
Smokin' Assassin shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just pointing out the truth." The others chuckled.
At this point, he could take it no longer. Purple fire engulfed his hands, and he raised them over his head. "SQUAD, ATTAAA- OOF!"
He dropped to the floor as the blunt end of a scythe bonked him on the head. The brothers chuckled again. They spoke in unison. "Hey there, Grimmy!"
