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Post by Sarpek on Dec 3, 2008 19:32:17 GMT -5
Sarpek presses a button on his belt, and dodges weaponry as 'The Folsom Prison Blues' begins to play from hidden speakers. He begins to sing along. "When I was just a baby, my mama told me 'Son, Always be a good boy, and don't ever play with guns.' " He lets off with the four winds, and four PKers go down, a one inch lead slug in their stomachs, and opens up with a lever action rifle, popping two more, and smashing the last in the face with the butt of the gun. He leans over one of the ones with a gut wound. "But I shot a man in Reno, Just to watch him die... When I hear that whistle blowin, I hang my head and cry..." He steps on the man's face, and turns to picking off Axe's assailants.
'
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Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Dec 4, 2008 17:03:19 GMT -5
The PKers trying to get the DJ starts shouting plans at each other.
"Hey, Axe! You distract him and I'll jump him from behind!"
"You've got it, Axe!"
The DJ looks at the two PKers and blinks.
"Wait...You're both named Axe?"
The PKer doing the distracting replies, "That's right. I'm Axe Bullet and that's Axe Clix. And over there's Axe Mini."
The DJ blinks again.
"Axe Bullet? Axe Clix? Axe Mini? Aren't they deodorants?"
Axe Mini responds, "That's right. We're the Axe Deodorant PKers. And you're not gonna stop us."
The PKer sneaking up on the DJ, Axe Clix, jumps on the DJ from behind with a knife. The DJ tosses Clix off his back and uses one of his axe and chops off one of Clix's hands.
"This Axe deodorant stuff is getting rediculous...That's why I use Old Spice..."
The DJ runs back inside the Elbow Room bar. The group of PKers attempt to follow. But an explosive is launched out the door sending the PKers flying. The DJ walks out of the bar in a new outfit. He's wearing dark clothing. His shirt has a picture of a skull on it.
"Somebody has to punish the corrupt..."
The DJ cocks a pistol.
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Post by Sarpek on Dec 6, 2008 17:27:53 GMT -5
"And the meek shall inherit the earth. They can have it." Sarpek racks another round into the rifle, and begins popping melons.
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Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Dec 8, 2008 16:12:26 GMT -5
The DJ takes out another PKer. Looking around, the DJ spots one of the PKer getting up, and applying bandages. The DJ walks up to him and aims. The PKer looks up.
"STOP!!!"
The PKer is holding a cross.
"At least for God!!!"
The DJ looks at the cross.
"You PKers don't deserve faith. Besides...Sometimes, I would like to get my hands on God."
The DJ pops the PKer's head. The entire area surrounding the bar, as well as the building next door where Sarpek was popping PKers, is now littered with the lifeless bodies of zombies and PKers, most of them decapitated. From three blocks away, Axe Hack looks out a window with a pair of binocs.
"Lousy fools!!! They've think they've won this round, but we'll be back!!!"
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Post by Sarpek on Dec 8, 2008 16:28:21 GMT -5
Sarpek picks up a sniper rifle from behind the bar. "One round left..." He fires, the bullet flying three blocks...
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Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Dec 16, 2008 19:38:01 GMT -5
The sound of a skull popping can be heard around Axe Hack's area. Back at the bar, the DJ heads up to the roof and reaches over the side of the building. He grabs a video camera that was taped at an angle just enough to record the entire battle. The DJ heads back to the first floor and knocks a few things off the TV. He plugs the camera into the TV and watches what the camera caught.
"Now, this is some prime footage."
The DJ gestures for Sarpek to come over.
"Hey, grab some popcorn. This is truly history in the making. How fast do you think we could get this on the news?"
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Post by Sarpek on Dec 23, 2008 14:33:04 GMT -5
"Well, I do have an old transmitter kicking around in a warehouse somewhere..."
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Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Dec 24, 2008 18:59:22 GMT -5
"Sure. You go look for that. I'll be setting up the crazy Christmas decors."
The DJ runs outside with a big box and a ladder. In a few hours, the bar has been decorated to the theme of a Nightmare Before Christmas, with Jack Skellington on the roof of the bar. The DJ runs back in the bar.
"All done. And only a few minutes to spare."
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Post by Noah on Dec 30, 2008 10:14:47 GMT -5
A young man wanders into the club through the ruined doorway. He looks like he is around eighteen years old, maybe older. Stubble lins his chin and upper lip while rough cut hair sticks awkwardly from under a dark blue baseball hat on his head. A Mossberg 590 is in his hands and pressed into his shoulder. It sweeps the room as he creeps along the floor and heads for the cover of a case of food. Cracked glasses just barely hang onto his face. Duct tape keeps the lenses in and holds the broken ear pieces against his head.
After assertaining the fact that no threats lurk in the dark reaches of the room, he lowers the Mossberg and sits down in a corner. After nodding to the DJ and the other residents of the room, he puts the hood of his German army coat over his head and falls asleep. He holds his shotgun tightly in his gloved hands, like a small child's teddy bear.
The bar residents look at this newcomer curiosly, noticing that his other hand rests on a lumpy back pack with 12-gauge shotgun shells sewn on it in random places. Everywhere else that lacks shotgun shells either holds pistol clips or has random odds and ends hanging from it. The straps are well worn from use and patched with odd bits of scrap cloth and duct tape. A vagabond if there ever was one.
His face is gaunt from lack of sufficient food and large bags hang beneath his eyes from too many sleepless nights. A bowie knife is clipped on his belt on the left side and a 9mm SIG P226 on the right. The handles of both are well worn. Around his neck hangs a sheath which holds a small black knife. The only revelation to what the pack holds is that there was too much in it, large lumps straining against the nylon, trying their best to burst free like that thing in "Alien," although probably less gross.
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Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Jan 1, 2009 9:09:40 GMT -5
The DJ looks at the new guy. Then, he reaches behind his usual spot, taking out a large container. The container is marked, in bold letters, "EMERGENCY SUPPLY OF FOOD". The DJ takes out a cup of instant noodles, pours hot water, and offers it to the newcomer.
"You look like you could use some food. Don't worry. If you're not a fan of instant noodles, I've got microwavable pizza in this cooler as well."
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Post by Noah on Jan 1, 2009 12:02:22 GMT -5
The newcomer's head whips up as he's surprised by the DJ. His hands tighten aound the shotgun, his finger sliding to the trigger. After seeing the noodles in the bartenders proffered hand, he takes off his hood and looks up. He gingerly takes the bowl, holding it like some sort of treasure. He stares at it and simply says "Warm food," before plunging into it and slurping down the noodles, using fingers in liu of forks.
In a slow voice, the newcomer says "My name is Noah" He stops and stares at the empty bowl. He reaches into his pack and pulls out a trio of cans. Even through the dirt, the DJ can read "Budweiser" across the front, the distinctive crown underneath.
"For you," Noah says, offering them to the DJ., "I found them a few nights ago in a grocery store." As he talks, his voice grows stronger and speech comes more easily. "They're still good," he continues, "I drank the other three when I found them. I was saving these for something, guess this is it."
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Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Jan 1, 2009 13:20:51 GMT -5
"Hey, don't worry about it. You're in a bar. The old barkeeps, whom we've got no clue where they are, kept this place stock of booze. Check it out."
The DJ knocks twice on the side of a cabinet. The doors fall off, reveiling an entire stock of Coor's, Budweisher, and every other beer available on the planet.
"There's more around. Like those cabinets over there," the DJ points to a set of cabinets at the other end of the bar, "is full of wine and champaign."
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Post by Noah on Jan 1, 2009 14:58:50 GMT -5
"What the hell is this place"
Noah puts the beers back in his pack and pulls out a jar of pickles. Using the knife around his neck, he skewers one and pops it in his mouth.
"I thought places like this didn't exist anymore. For the past few months I've been on the run, trying to just keep alive. I haven't seen a building that has windows that close for around four weeks, and the last one people were shooting out of them. This place is like a slice of heaven. Need anything around here. I may not be carrying too much, but I've probably seen it somewhere."
He pulls out a composition book, one of those black and white deals, and hands it to the DJ.
"Maps, building addresses, store rooms all over Malton. I've found marajuana farms, newspapers, clothing shops. I also know where a lot of the zeds hang out. I may not have been living large these past few years, but I know where a lot of folks who have been are."
"Need help with your door there?"
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Post by Definitely Not Axe Hack on Jan 1, 2009 17:53:01 GMT -5
The DJ looks at the door. The door is hanging off it's hinges.
"Yea...We could definitely use a new door ever since that massive zombie/PKer strike on this place...There's a video in the VCR of that lil' incident. Me and Sarpek over there held 'em off by ourselves. Improbable, sure. But the video don't lie."
The DJ leans closer to Noah and whispers, "And lemme tell ya, I could have perfectly held 'em off by myself. I was doing fine..."
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Post by Noah on Jan 1, 2009 18:54:25 GMT -5
Noah screws the lid back on the pickle jar and slides it into his pack.
"Just gimme some tools and I'll get that door back up, maybe then I can get some sleep. Haven't had more than two hours shut-eye in the past four days. Some horde's been after me, gave them the slip a about ten miles past here. Doubled back and heard the action going on here. Saw the lights, came in here, and well, you were here for the rest of the story."
He grabs a toolbox from the floor and begins to replace the hinges on the door with a set he found in a box in the corner labled "Scraps."
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