It was a slow night at the
Weasel Lair. The rain and wind were kicking up nicely making it a miserable
night for both man and beast... After a quick check of the perimeter monitors
of Weasel Central, I figured that there were many frags to be had out in the
storm. I lovingly took my highly customized, fine tuned, weighted and balanced,
checked and rechecked, custom built and personalized RailGun that I found on the
battlefield one day down from the coat hook that I was using as a gun cabinet.
Most professionals name their weapons. I call my RailGun "RailGun."
If I manage to keep hold of it for a couple more operations, I may rename it "Soul
Hunter." Yeah whatever...
With tremendous care, I took a deep
breath and blew the invisible dust off it and checked the bore with a grimy
pinky. "Looks OK," I said to myself as I slung the gun over a
shoulder, the stock clipping the edge of my desk and forming a new ding on the
cheekpiece. I headed over to the functional yet tasteless kitchenette and
started to reprovision. In various pockets I stuffed a couple cans of
Cheese-Whiz, a box of Stoned Wheat Thins, half a turkey breast, some onions, a
banana, three packages of M&Ms(no Peanuts, hate those), a handful of
Starburst fruit chews and 2 full pockets of loose Mal-O-Mars. I was about to
top off my WW2 surplus metal canteen with Iced Tea but I remembered that it
makes it taste kinda metallic so I went with a hastily-rinsed 2-liter RC bottle.
Feeling quite macho and invincible, I wandered out to the front
porch and locked the door. "Hmmm, still raining. I better get a poncho."
I unlocked the door, ran over to the pile of extra gear from the last canoe trip
and grabbed my genuine Joe's World of Sports camo poncho. Smelled a little
mildewy but I figured the rain would take care of that. So out to the porch I
went and locked up. Halfway to the car, I remembered that I needed some ammo
for the gun so I went back up to the house and unlocked the door. After a quick
and fruitless search of the desk, I remembered a couple clips that I always
leave in the trunk of the car so I headed back to the porch and locked up again.
Retrieving a clip and a half of slugs for the RailGun, I slammed the half clip
home and threw it onto the floor of the car. I headed out across to the old
warehouse complex that was serving as tonight's battlefield.
So I
pulled into a parking spot and rolled down the window. I hefted ol' "RailGun"
up to my shoulder and aimed it out at the guy who had pulled in a couple seconds
before me. As he was closing his trunk, I put a slug through his throat and he
slumped lifelessly between the cars. Popping a StarBurst into my mouth, I
wandered over to his car and checked his trunk. "Excellent! A whole box
of RailGun slugs. That'll save me a few bucks." I finished pilfering his
body, coming away with $42+change, 2 grenades, a cool Breitling Aviator watch, a
nice MP5-S with ammo and a couple of Slim-Jims. I like Slim Jims. I left the
poor bastard with a blaster pistol. He would need it.
Keeping to the
shadows, I headed over to the main entrance. The door was still open so I gave
a tentative look inside. I could see a couple of llamas runing in circles
shooting blasters at each other. I let "RailGun" warm up a bit more as
I pulled one of the pilfered grenades out and twisted the timer. I flicked it
into the middle of the this little dance act the two were doing. The explosion
launched one of them into orbit and the other was left stunned for a sec.
Popping a Mal-O-Mar, I casually walked from the shadows and put ol' RailGun up
to her belly. "Nice night, eh?" I said as I shot her dead. There was
hardly a flicker of blue as the slug punched through her sternum like a pencil
through wet construction paper. The slug rebounded off a crate and took out one
of the exit signs. I didn't even bother checking these bodies as what would I
do with a pair of blaster pistols? Taking a glance around, I saw a whole mess
of crates and stuff. Very shadowy. Very cool. I hunkered down and pushed a
couple boxes into a circle. I wedged the barrel of "RailGun" between
two crates so that it was nicely boresighted on the center of a far away
doorway.
"GOD DAMNIT!" I cried. " Left the GOD DAMNED
Walkman at home." This was going to be a long night. I sat down with my
back to a crate, not even watching the door. I took a few swigs of Iced Tea and
took a bite of turkey. Mmmmm Turkey. I heard the door mechanism cycling down
range so I reached over and pulled the trigger on "RailGun." Didn't
even look through the sights. I heard an "OOFFF!" from down by the
door so I stood up with the MP-5 while "RailGun" recharged. There was
this fugly brute standing in the doorway looking around. I squeezed off a burst
and dropped him. His hands were in a deathgrip on the shotgun he had so I just
left him there. Good bait for some other dolt. I sat back down and munched on
some crackers. "Seee Toh, Ree-Choh, Mahn-toh, Raaay" I mantra-ed and
waited for another victim...
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