Matt and I and the Emo Massacre
The roof of the Paul Bunyan Mall was cold and desolate as I waited with Matt, my second. I was twisted on herb and blow and he was cranked on high octane whiskey. The Gladius was cold at my side, deadly-heavy and thirsty.
"I can't believe you talked me into this." Matt slurred
"You said you wanted to see a duel...well here we are." I said, looking towards K-Mart
The group arrived a little after 2 AM and they looked pissed/moody. Their Emo ringleader resplendent in black pleather and eyeliner.
"Hrm. Seems to be more than I had anticipated." I said, not worried, but beginning to crack and stretch
"We're going to die aren't we?" asked Matt
"We're all going to die sooner or later Matt, why not locked in mortal combat against the dregs of society?" I asked rhetorically
There were five in the group. I had hopes that the roof of the mall would prove too much of a challenge for them. But, hope in one hand and bleed in the other. I advanced on the group, making sure to approach the alpha male with a steady gaze.
"Well Graves, I see you've got friends. You promise to let them pork you after the fight?" I asked
"That's what your pretty friend is for." said Graves, pointing at Matt
Wordlessly Matt pulled out the bullwhip.
"What? You going to whip us to death?" asked one of Graves' goons
Wordlessly Matt pulled out Johnson's Blade, a foot long razor sharp bowie knife for his left hand. There was a slight shuffling of feet on the water resistant stone of the roof and then the silent arming of black nail-polished hands with decorative weaponry. Only one of the Emo's had enough sense to bring a sword, but since it had a skull on the hilt I didn't put much stock in it. The largest of the group, a 6' 3" juggernaut pulled out a wooden bat. A little skittish punk with bangs obscuring his pock-marked face whipped out a butane torch and fired it up.
"We going to pose all night or are we-" Graves got out before I was on him
The Gladius was in my hand and through the air with a stainless steel ring like a tuning fork. I gave Graves the flat of the blade as he went for his switch and he went reeling. With a feral cry I was among them. Within them. A mad dog unchained and trained for one purpose; taking every offered limb, gut, and head to my blade and pommel. The group spread like explosive butter on a molten griddle.
There was a dull thumping as hard oak slugger met with my ribs and for a moment everything went reddish and fuzzy. As the juggernaut lifted up for the coup de grace the snapping of sound-barrier-breaking leather tore through the night and with a scream and a plop the behemoth became an instant hit at pirate parties. As he began fruitlessly searching for his eye Mr. Blowtorch came at me swinging wild and free. Dodge and parry and parry and strike.
"Look out dude!" said Matt, strangling the mascara off of one of the minions while bowie slicing at the punk with the fantasy sword
There was only one direction Matt could be warning me and I spun from the blowtorch wielding maniac with pommel raised high and ready to drop. Graves was on his feet and thrust his switchblade at my gut with a passion and abandon he should have reserved for his bad poetry. The pommel came down on his skull like a sledge to a melon and from that moment on Graves could neither see the color purple or hear Steely Dan without going fetal and peeing.
Spinning I put everything I had into a wide slash that met with Mr. Blowtorch's arm. There was the sickening crunch of meat-wrapped bone and the piercing scream of Emo in pain. A swift kick to the groin and he was unconscious. I turned my attention to Matt. The Fantasy Sword warrior was fleeing the scene towards Herbergers, bloody and terrified as Matt let the last of the punks hit the seagull shit, unconscious and gasping. Matt let out a drunken howl that resounded over the Mall, into the atmosphere, and but for the void, into the heavens themselves.
"Time to get the fuck out of here...the people in 301 are watching us." I said, regarding the lights of The Ridge to the north
"Yeah...I need a drink." said Matt, sheathing his weapons
"I'm buying." I said, and we made our way over retail providers and into the early morning
"I can't believe you talked me into this." Matt slurred
"You said you wanted to see a duel...well here we are." I said, looking towards K-Mart
The group arrived a little after 2 AM and they looked pissed/moody. Their Emo ringleader resplendent in black pleather and eyeliner.
"Hrm. Seems to be more than I had anticipated." I said, not worried, but beginning to crack and stretch
"We're going to die aren't we?" asked Matt
"We're all going to die sooner or later Matt, why not locked in mortal combat against the dregs of society?" I asked rhetorically
There were five in the group. I had hopes that the roof of the mall would prove too much of a challenge for them. But, hope in one hand and bleed in the other. I advanced on the group, making sure to approach the alpha male with a steady gaze.
"Well Graves, I see you've got friends. You promise to let them pork you after the fight?" I asked
"That's what your pretty friend is for." said Graves, pointing at Matt
Wordlessly Matt pulled out the bullwhip.
"What? You going to whip us to death?" asked one of Graves' goons
Wordlessly Matt pulled out Johnson's Blade, a foot long razor sharp bowie knife for his left hand. There was a slight shuffling of feet on the water resistant stone of the roof and then the silent arming of black nail-polished hands with decorative weaponry. Only one of the Emo's had enough sense to bring a sword, but since it had a skull on the hilt I didn't put much stock in it. The largest of the group, a 6' 3" juggernaut pulled out a wooden bat. A little skittish punk with bangs obscuring his pock-marked face whipped out a butane torch and fired it up.
"We going to pose all night or are we-" Graves got out before I was on him
The Gladius was in my hand and through the air with a stainless steel ring like a tuning fork. I gave Graves the flat of the blade as he went for his switch and he went reeling. With a feral cry I was among them. Within them. A mad dog unchained and trained for one purpose; taking every offered limb, gut, and head to my blade and pommel. The group spread like explosive butter on a molten griddle.
There was a dull thumping as hard oak slugger met with my ribs and for a moment everything went reddish and fuzzy. As the juggernaut lifted up for the coup de grace the snapping of sound-barrier-breaking leather tore through the night and with a scream and a plop the behemoth became an instant hit at pirate parties. As he began fruitlessly searching for his eye Mr. Blowtorch came at me swinging wild and free. Dodge and parry and parry and strike.
"Look out dude!" said Matt, strangling the mascara off of one of the minions while bowie slicing at the punk with the fantasy sword
There was only one direction Matt could be warning me and I spun from the blowtorch wielding maniac with pommel raised high and ready to drop. Graves was on his feet and thrust his switchblade at my gut with a passion and abandon he should have reserved for his bad poetry. The pommel came down on his skull like a sledge to a melon and from that moment on Graves could neither see the color purple or hear Steely Dan without going fetal and peeing.
Spinning I put everything I had into a wide slash that met with Mr. Blowtorch's arm. There was the sickening crunch of meat-wrapped bone and the piercing scream of Emo in pain. A swift kick to the groin and he was unconscious. I turned my attention to Matt. The Fantasy Sword warrior was fleeing the scene towards Herbergers, bloody and terrified as Matt let the last of the punks hit the seagull shit, unconscious and gasping. Matt let out a drunken howl that resounded over the Mall, into the atmosphere, and but for the void, into the heavens themselves.
"Time to get the fuck out of here...the people in 301 are watching us." I said, regarding the lights of The Ridge to the north
"Yeah...I need a drink." said Matt, sheathing his weapons
"I'm buying." I said, and we made our way over retail providers and into the early morning
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