The Adventures of Milky
Chapter 1: A Murderous Psychosomatic
It was a bright sunny day in Texas. The sun shone with brilliant radiance upon a tent in the middle of what seemed like nowhere. Inside this tent, there was a miracle of modern day socialism taking place, perhaps one for the ages.
"Fuck you, fucking bitch!" exclaimed the captive.
"Whoa there, cowboy, we need to slow the train down," said Anchor.
"Fuck you, you fucking raider piece of shit!"
"You see I know you're not mad at me, you're unleashing all your repressed anger from when you were raped as child," the raider replied.
"You really think so" he replied. "Wait no, hang on, yeah… fuck you, I hope you get raped by a Deathclaw."
Anchor shook his head and looked to the shady figure in the corner. "Well that's it for the psychological approach." he then pulled out a .44 Magnum and aimed it for the captive's head, clicking the safety release and pulling back the hammer. "Listen fag-fuck I'm gonna ask you some real simple questions and you're gonna answer them, or I'm gonna give you the Kurt Cobaine special."
"Well when you put it that way," the captive began again, "FUCK YOU! I'm not gonna tell you shit, asshole!"
The shadowy figure crept out from the darkness and fired a point-blank shotgun round into the captive's head, sending skull fragments and grey matter in opposite directions. "What the theoretical fuck, Milky?!" Anchor shouted, "you got his brains all over the walls."
The girl known as milky stood there with an innocent look on her face. "He said he wasn't going to tell you anything so I acted." She cocked her shotgun as the shell-casing ejected from the firearm and clinked on the ground. "I thought that's what you wanted me to do. If you keep yelling at me, I'm gonna have scary dreams."
Anchor stared at his associate blankly. "The correct way to say it is 'nightmare,'" he responded. "Think you can remember that, slut?"
"You're so mean Anchor…" she stated solemnly as her eyes watered. "Why are you always so mean?"
"You're gonna give me an ulcer…"
"What's an ulcer?"
His eye twitched slightly. "Fuck it, the moral of the story is that you can't believe everything a person says, got it?" he explained sympathetically.
"Got it!" Milky replied enthusiastically.
Anchor kicked the partially decapitated corpse from the chair and let it fall to the ground. Blood began to pool around the floor. He then left the room and soon came back with much more lively captive. Anchor stood over him with a stern look tattered across his face. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions and you're gonna answer 'em, understood?"
The captive eyed his fallen comrade; his head blown apart by discharged shrapnel. "Fuck man, I'll tell you whatever you want as long as I don't end up like that guy. Jesus!"
Milky squatted down to meet the captive at eye level. She stared at him with understanding and put a hand to his cheek. "LIAR!" she shouted as she leapt back and shot the captive in the face.
Anchor, feeling a mild sense of déjà vu, scolded Milky. "WHY!?" he screamed.
She gave him and apologetic look as a thin trail of smoke travel from the nose of the gun. "You told me not to be so trusting."
"Would you shoot me if I lied to you?"
She laughed and punched him in the shoulder. "You wouldn't lie to me, silly."
"Your hair is Blue." He said with a straight look as he crossed his arms.
Milky pulled a strand of her pink hair in front of her eyes. "So that's what this color is… Pretty!"
Anchor quickly walked from the room. "I can't fucking take it anymore! I'm gonna get a lobotomy!"
Milky followed in tow, matching his steps out of the tent. "Hey, Anchor, wait up! Whats a lobotomy?"
"Oh God, why! What have I done to deserve this?" he questioned to the sky.
"Who is this 'God'?" She continued to berate him with her overwhelming inquisitiveness.
"One of these days Milky…" he seethed under his breath. "Oh, you know what? Never mind." He turned to his associate with a smile on his face as he gave a low chuckle. "Lets go get some more piggies and go to market."
"I like bacon."