Weasel
New Member
Fucking zombies!
I have made 192 posts
Right now I'm Offline
I joined January 2010
My gender is Male
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Post by Weasel on Jul 25, 2011 13:58:42 GMT -5
*Weasel rushes into the room, and slams the remainder of his martini before throwing the empty glass into the wall sending small shards of glass flying in all direction*
"There's still time... out of my way damn it!"
Still wearing his tuxedo, Weasel rushes to the gurney. In his haste and also because he is drunk, he falls over some cords and lands prone, face down on the white tilled floor.
"Who tripped me?" he wails as he comes up swinging. "What dirty bastard wants this game to die. HUH!?! You... or maybe yooouuu." he adds pointing an acusing finger at Racer.
Suddenly remembering why he burst into the room, he turns his attention back to the game lying dormant.
"Don't you give up on me." he says as he slams his fists onto the games chest. "You can make it. You hear me? You've still some fight in you, yet!" he clenched fists again slam against the games chest.
"Wake up! I said wake up!"
He slaps the game across the face and then grabs it by the shoulders and starts shaking it violently. Amoung the tears and sobs, you hear slightly coherent curse words and promises impossible to keep.
"Shiv! Get my whiskey... no, damn it! The black label!! Yes, yes. Bring it here!"
Quickly unscrewing the top, he takes a long pull, almost throws up, and then burps so loud the windows shake. He puts the bottle to the corpses mouth and tries to force the liquid down it's throat, only serving to make a mess. He turns and throws the bottle into the wall adding to the mess of glass that now litters the floor.
He turns with tears in his eyes and possibly vomit dripping from his chin.
"Too late. I was too damn late!"
*sob*
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