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Post by Tovarisch Khrushchev on Oct 1, 2008 23:25:40 GMT -5
"AH!"
Tovarisch shouted, tossing his bottle of vodka against the wall and pulling another out of his napsack.
"I used to be Necrotech, but now I'm just naked." He said, pulling the shorts over his head and wrapping the jacket around his waist. "My brother though, that bastard, HE is still with Necrotech."
It was at that very moment, when it would have been most coincidental, that the now overly used "whop" noise filled the air upstairs. Though likely heard by much of the bar, Tovarisch seemed to have let it slip past him, or purposefully ignored it out of a drunken stupor or lack of motivation to flee.
Then, with the sound of galloping hooves, a slightly balding Russian ran down the stairs, tripped over the middle one, tumbled slightly, caught his balance, leaped to his feet, jumped on to the bar, and pointed a gun at Tovarisch.
"You drunk fool!" He shouted. "Do you have any idea the sort of shit you're in?!"
"Hi Ivan!" Tovarisch said with a smile. "Meet Marcus. . .these are his pants."
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