AN: My first combo of words got deleted on accident after I exited the browser on accident and now I have little to no reason to exist. If this meme of a story gets more than 3 reviews, I'll write the next chapter.
You know, if anyone was to ask how my day was going, I'd probably kill them.
A bit extreme, I know, but there's something just so irritating about today. I mean, it's definitely not my fault that I'm on the back of what I believe to be one of the most advanced cars I've ever had the pleasure of riding on. In fact the driver, oh wow, just wow.
I'm not gonna lie, I think the driver's an alien.
Yeah, I'm on the back of a floating chariot.
Okay, so New York is under attack. I know, weird right? How strange. New York. Under attack. Honestly though, what's new? Dust was everywhere, cars were on fire, and overall, it smelled like rotten steak that was left too long on the grill.
New York was one big, gigantic, hot mess right now. But, aside from that, I think we've had worse days. The alien didn't look to happy with me on his car.
The alien didn't look too happy at all. In fact, in all my glorious stupor of staring in absolute shock at this abnormality, it pulled out a gun.
And not just any gun. No, this gun almost looked like the gun from Men in Black. K would be proud. I only knew one thing to do. I watered the alien, not with just any regular loser-like water, no. My sweet white can, unfortunately made of plastic, contained good ole' Reezer's Product 951.
The alien quickly realized that, no I wasn't trying to wash the blood stain off his shoulder. With a quick splash of Mr. 951, the alien promptly screeched, quite loudly, might I add. I couldn't blame him. Reezer's was made with the sweet purpose of disintegrating a tree trunk, which is actually hard to get rid of.
After E.T. hollered out some alien profanities, he made a swipe at me with his talon-like fingers. My worthless $4.00 shirt from Best Buy was torn to shreds, leaving my Old Navy sports bra out for the whole world to see. I almost fell off that strange car, but luckily I just managed to grab the blackened railing of this knock-off chariot.
I think my skin got cut too, because as soon as he stumbled back, the muscles in my stomach stung, like really bad. Like, bad bad.
Like, it hurt a lot.
The pungent odor of burnt alien guts didn't smell to appealing either, lemme tell ya. I, the brilliant tactician here, made an actual grab for the out-of-the-movies gun. Yes, I actually went for it, believe it or not.
I actually grabbed the strange, arm-length monstrosity, jammed my hand where I thought the trigger would be on this sucker, and my luck prevailed.
The alien must've turned the safety off (do alien guns have a safety?), because when I pulled that trigger, I could've sworn I heard a whimper from the acid-scorched, unfortunate thing. A beam of pure, hot, energy shot from the gun and the alien didn't have a chest cavity anymore.
To be honest here, I had just gotten out of the shower before I was grabbed by the alien on my roof. Yeah, I was killing the disgusting sycamore on the top of my apartment with Reezer's Product 951. But that's besides the point.
My hair and my face, and oh my glob, some of it got in my mouth. I was covered in alien guts and yeah, it wasn't pleasant.
For the first time since my grunt of disgust at spotting the sycamore I was going to absolutely destroy with Reezer's, an audible yelp of pain shot it's way out of my mouth, and I spit the near gut-wrenching blood out of my mouth. Locking my knees, I forced myself to stay standing, because generally when you kill the driver of a car, someone's got to drive, and you'd better believe I damn near jolted out of my alien-killing shock, and managed to just grab the reigns of the strange, floating UFO. The MIB gun clattered to the ground of the chariot to my right, but I paid it no mind.
I was too busy trying to pull the reigns as hard as I could, and unlike horseback riding, there wasn't anything to react to the reigns, and just exactly like horseback riding, as soon as I pulled my arms out of their sockets trying my damn hardest to make the thing go up.
Go up. Go up. Go up.
The chariot as if hearing my thoughts, just managed to rear it's crudely-shaped nose up and instead of going forwards, we were going up, up, up, just missing the glass of the Stark Tower. The body of the alien fell out almost immediately, as the chariot and myself went vertical. I was holding on for dear life, because when life gives you an inopportune moment to practice your pull-ups, you just got to grab on for dear life and pray everything goes alright.
The chariot swayed to the left as I tried to pull myself up with my left hand. I quickly figured out we were traveling in a reversed-parabola, and almost as if the chariot was reading my thoughts, we did a full 180 and now we were horizontal, and I took a moment to promptly throw up over the chariot, because I wasn't about to ruin my newly acquired ride. I stumbled back, and fell to my knees, the chariot now behaving when I released the reigns.
We were still, in the sky.
The glowing gun to the right of my knees was twinkling in the sunlight, and its blue-energy stripes seemed to gloat at me. Growling, I wiped my mouth and figured that the damn thing must've been magnetized to the chariot. Lucky bastard.
I snatched it up, as if suddenly gaining a third limb. How was I still alive?
I didn't know.
AN: Here's the deal, you like what you see? Tell me. Give me three good review and I'll continue this vomit-inducing combination of words.