Uncharted: Valley of the Cannibals
"Sulli tell me that funny joke again about the hooker who sweats in the church." Nathan Drake, the hero of Uncharted 1, 2, and 3, proclaimed to his good, best friend, Sulligan. "Not now Nath', the time is not ripe. When the grapes are in season and the stars are in the good spot of the sky, jokes will be untold. But now the conditions are real." And they were very real too. 'Ake and Sullan were at a heist that has far exceeded its expiration date. There were boulders and snake traps, and skulls, and bottomless pits, and scary tribal folk, and wobbly bridges, and spike traps, and venus fly traps, and Chinese finger traps, and all sorts of indescribable horrors. "Oh boy, here we go again." said Drake. "I'm getting to old for this shit." responded Sullivan. "You can say that again." checkmated Drake. "…Fuck." murmured Sullivan.
The kickoff began when Steak and Broccoli were have a good ol' fashioned hoedown. It was like old times, the boys were at their favorite secret Chinese clubhouse, The Manly Mandarin. Jake and Sulky were shooting up shit like always, giving poundings in each other's elbows, in the manner that only true brothers can express to one another. "Show me the shit you got." Sullivan badgered on. Nathigan took out his fist and arm and whaled a red Chinaman across the bar table. The red Chinaman kaboodled against a floral-like arrangement of white Chinaman and bounced off of the table onto the refined assortment of floorboards on the floor of the clubhouse. "NEH NYEH, that's the second mcjigger in a row Drake, your beans have been bought." Sulli bragged. "I love it when a plan comes together." Sulli twice bragged. "Yeah, yeah Sulli, that's very good. My throw is only slacked cuz I been very worked lately due by all the poontangs I have been busy consummating." Said Nathan Drake. "Don't bring poontangs into this my boy. This a testament to muscle and stern and the limitless devotion to the game. All the poontangs in the world don't mean none in the trials of man. Accept your position on the food chain Nate, don't recoil from the pain, let the wounds soak up the dirt, build your immunity. Don't brush me off like that Steak, I'm not some bar skank, I am your creator. Every life experience you ever cherished was my doing. I could have left you in the sewer your parents birthed you in, festering with the sewer plants watching awful sewer television, as sewer rats hollowed out your adrenals using them as sewershells for them to travel in like the foot powered cars in the Flinstones. But no I gave you something greater Lake, I gave you arms and legs, and eyes and mouths, and the free will to defy my order. So if you're going to extend your dick to me in full rebellion, then let it cum. But don't go around displaying your goddamn stamp collection because I don't have time for that. I'm an old silhouette of dust, I should have died years ago from the diabetes poisoning. But here I stand before you, the well-greased engine I always was. While I may not be getting any younger, I sure as fuck am not running out of oil. So if you got something real to excrete from those pristine, pampered, poodle lips of yours Drake, I'll be in the Captain's Quarters!" And like that Sully was gone, never to be seen again. Drake was left with no other option but to walk through the Valley of the Cannibals. Goodbye Drake. Goodbye Sully.
Is this the last we'll see of our friends?! "NO WAY JOSE!" says you. Tune in next week for the next exciting episode.