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Holy Tailoring | Started by: -Prophet- on Jul 02, '10 13:39 |
You wander the streets aimlessly, your suit old, worn out and tarnished. Bar after bar you try to catch even a whisper of a wonderful tailor, your mind is in a haze, you must of had at least twelve drinks before you found a glimmer of hope. A group of men all wearing fancy matching suits, the leader spinning his watch as he walked up to the bar. Quite the intimidating group, but you've been in worse gangs. So you walk up to the leader, tap him on the shoulder and ask,"Pardon me good sir, but where did you receive such a fine suit?" |
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A craz'ed'ed fashionable tune came over the soothin' soul'tune of the USS IU57 DD91 ZMSG found hisself floatin' down the street'z in his own vessel. The little kid bummin' the corner had all sorts of tale'z he had quack't about an abandon't shack. Interest't in see'n'r'tweetin'what holler for who'n'z kin'z hoot'n'nanny? The patrol was already on deck, the 2 pigs that could flyy were already in their prefer't location'n'autto'z. The 3 pro patrolla'z had alred'ty been roll't'er'duh kin'dred. Bow to the bow with a stern resurfacing, ZMSG's paddy cap was already where it needed to be sat. It appear'z the McHamBergler'z MickyyFrie'zd'ya Mumm'z KUNT'z with his entire fuckin' d/vision had resurface't. Chuck'Ze'Kuntzz Overboar't With a helter to a skelter you never woulda guessed ya, a crack of a gun in the distance. Gunbrigadier General of his own Handcannons was never prepared for Education to set in. He felt a sensation within himself, and it wasn't just any kind of an'ation he thought he saw the sea for what the sea truly was, what it is, who it was for, and where it came from. Suddenly the chirp of a skeeter landing a perfect stick on the young mans right arm. The motion of the ocean was activated. He immediately DART't tow'erdz duh car. The Mickey underneath his soul really had soldato's toe and the fingertip'z of a feckin devil. Those kicker stickkz with the devilz mixx must'er'd bee workin'n. Stern bow the Bow of the bow into the passenger side window, starboard armcannon to the 1921 say'zit4me port'r side aCannon support'z the sternum of his hand'z new vessel'edge to toy with. After all, it was the middle of the feck'nN day for emm. Eh laddy'z, he thought to his drumm'n'bum salu'toot'r as he rolls to the ballz of his feet. He slides back into his own pants as he rolls to the heels, hips following the motion set by the feet by staying bent as he rolls out of the passenger side window, the Thompson ready to rundown anyone that came with'en his visible spectr'um'dum'drumma drum'z drum. Port'r side pointer toe picks the angle as it steps back towards the sounds of the footsteps followin' the gunshots. A shit-eater's grin overcame him as his tongue sticks out to the left side of his face. Mobb'n Since Ben'Mobb'n Benn'Mobb'n Bin Laden Beeyotch. Witchitaw'kz Fowl strikes againn. He pursues. USS ZMSG catche'z up with one of his patroll'n gunshipz. Sprayinn at a group of men fleein' a scene. ZMSG rattle'z off 7 shotz, 5 at 1 of the men, and 2 at the other. All 7 Konnectted inJunction with the juxto3z'position. |
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Reply by: cuZzsMicKSleightreeG at Jul 25, '22 21:25 | |
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