The Elbow Room

[Tovarisch Khrushchev]

"Dressed?" The Russian said through a mouth full of sandwich, "OH! I'm naked. That's just a side effect of the...uhh...well, that's best saved for another day."

The Russian took a swig of vodka to wash down the sandwich.

"Say, you wouldn't have seen a cat a bit younger than I. Shorter, balder, more goatee...Wears glasses, goes by the name of-"

It was at that inopportune and highly informational moment that the air outside was filled with the sound of a dozen people yelling "Whop", and the panicked scuffling of a man slightly shorter, significantly balder, and with much more goatee than the Russian in the presence of young Marcus.

"AND THATS MY CUE!"

With a tap on a small device wrapped around the Russian's ankle, and the now all too familiar whopping sound, the Russian, the sandwich, and the vodka, were all gone.

The front door, barricades and all, flew open, and a slightly balding short Russian man with a goatee tumbled through, carrying a large sack of needles and a modified DNA Scanner, standard issue.

"FUCK! Missed him again!"

[privatefirstclass]

"What the hell??" Marcus swings towards the new Russian. "Hey man, im getting tired of this bullshit with people messing up my stuff. You better tell me what the hell's going on." Marcus points his steak knife towards the man.

[albub]

A man in a spotless black suit and a massive greatcoat stands outside of the Elbow Room Bar. He looks up and down the street before walking up to the doors and knocking 3 times.

[Sarpek]

Sarpek steps back, and grins at the makeshift Artillery Cannon on the roof, and walks over to a steel case. Opening it, he carefully extracts several shells made of fertilizer bombs and old radio parts. He carefully fills the three racks of shells, and works a large lever, which clangs loudly, loading a shell into the two inch steel tube. He pulls a smaller lever attatched to the barrel, and nothing happens for a second. There is an earsplitting bang that leaves his ears ringing. No, Actually that's the steel pipe ringing like a bell. About a half mile away, A zombie at a revive point recieves a very rude awakening as the head of the statue he is standing near explodes in a shower of splinters and stone dust. Sarpek Chuckles, and sticks his head through the roof door. "The cannon's working!"

[Tovarisch Khrushchev]

"A steak knife? Whole worlds gone to hell in a hand basket and you're wielding a steak knife?"

The balding Russian tosses Marcus a gun and a spare magazine.

"Way my lives been lately I probably won't need that one. It's named Grace, and every bullet is Will."

The Russian typed a few numbers in to his modified DNA Scanner.

"Did you know Necrotech was working on a teleport machine? Man the shit you learn as a Doctor in this place! Welp, I'll be seeing ya!"

And with one last push of a button, and a now quite annoying whop, he was gone.

[privatefirstclass]

"....what the fuck?" Marcus shrugs and wonders why Alex was in the bathroom for so long. He goes to check and finds Alex slit his wrists. He throws up. After brushing his teeth, he goes out to the car and turns the keys. "Dammit...now no one can watch my back." He begins driving.

After 15 minutes of driving, he reaches for a bag of doritos he found in the passenger seat. As he does this, he hits a zed, and spins out of control.

Marcus awakes, and finds himself in the middle of the street....unharmed. He checks the pistol, still there. "Shitty fucking day..." He walks up to a bar named "Elbow Room."

[Tovarisch Khrushchev]

"whop"

"Barkeep!" Tovarisch Khrushchev shouts, spinning in the all too familiar stool of the Elbow Room, "My usual!"

"Barkeep?"

Tovarisch couldn't find anyone behind the counter. ". . .It's rather drafty in here. . ."

[Sarpek]

Sarpek spins a crank, depressing the cannon to its minimum, and spins another, slowly tracking the gun over to aim at an abandoned car. He works the loading lever, and trips the firing circuit. There is a bang followed by a very large explosion, and a mushroom cloud of flame.

[albub]

The man in the suit opens the door when his knock goes unanswered. He walks in, his gait calm and even. His eyes search the room, and settle on the Slavic looking man.

"Good evening."

Just then a man enters the bar. He looks as though he is in rough condition.

"Another good evening. My name is Daniel Remington. You look as if you've been in a scuffle or perhaps an accident, friend. Allow me to help patch you up. The name's Daniel Remington, and I'm looking for a friend. His name is Alex, and I'm aware he was in this area recently. Any help you have to offer would be greatly appreciated."

He pulls out a battered metal first aid case and opens it, removing iodine, cotton swabs, and gauze, as well as a small pair of scissors.

[privatefirstclass]

"Umm...Alex?" Marcus sits in a bar stool, a bottle of scotch he grabbed from behind the counter in his hand. "He killed himself, in my bathroom no less. Sorry...." Marcus sits, the pistol in his pocket, steak knife stabbed down on the table. " I know, i look extremely suspicious. But my murder career isn't going to get off to a start unless things are really drastic. The name's Marcus Coker." The man holds his hand out for a handshake.

[albub]

Daniel takes the mans hand and shakes it slowly. He is smiling, apparently to himself.

"Killed himself? That shouldn't be too much of a problem, not for us at least."

Daniel chuckles softly.

"That is, if he even did it right. What did he do? Hang himself? Shoot himself?. Please don't tell me he burned himself to death, because that may actually complicate matters for us."

[Tovarisch Khrushchev]

"I KNOW YOU!" Tovarisch shouts from a few stools down, interrupting the two men. "I lived in your fridge for a few seconds! You gave me a sandwich!"

Tovarisch reaches out to hug the man, and realizes he is still naked.

"Excuse my appearances, its just that the. . .well, you see the thing. . .I'm not usually naked."

Tovarisch takes another swig of vodka and hands the bottle to his new friend.

"I couldn't help but overhear your loss. I've seen quite a few friends, and one great mentor, die these past months. . .in fact I sort of kill my mentor, but he asked me to!"

Tovarisch pulls back the bottle, takes another drink, and hands it back over.

"Needless to say I've been a bit disheveled since."

[privatefirstclass]

Marcus pulls a jacket and shorts out of his bag. "It might not be your still, but i don't think it looks right for a naked guy to be hugging anyone." He turns his attention back to Daniel. "He slit his wrists, why? Are you guys Necrotech?"

[Tovarisch Khrushchev]

"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."

[albub]

"Slit his wrists? Interesting. Would you mind showing me or telling me where your house is?"

Daniel finishes patching up Marcus and begins putting away his first aid supplies.

"Oh, as for me working for necrotech... No. I've worked with them in the past, but never for them."