A Day At The Office
Another bloody suit ruined, Rufus thought to himself. Three in as many days. This is not tolerable. I'll have to get something done about strengthening the cloth. Finding something that can withstand grenade blasts would be a start.
His line of thought was interrupted as more shots hammered into the Mako- augmented steel surface of the upturned table he was sheltering behind. A ricochet ruffled Rufus' hair. The new President of Shinra, Inc. snarled as he realised his immaculate parting was spoiled. Poking his shotgun over the top of his cover, he blazed away without bothering to show his face. Rufus had been in enough gun battles to know that showing one's face to superior opposition was almost certain death. Pulling his gun back, the President grinned at the sound of agonised groans from across the room. His luck had held once again.
Frantically, Rufus searched the pockets of his duster coat until he located more ammunition. Jamming shells into his gun, he risked a look at the fixed table that was between his opponents and himself. Three of the Mako-crystal goblets were empty, he noticed. Three of his enemies had drunk, one was down already, and there had been five to start off with. Definitely worth the risk then, thought Rufus. Get this business over with. For Rufus had a secret weapon. As is usual with these business types. And like most business types, he was keeping it a big secret until he needed it.
Then, much to Rufus' surprise, a hand grenade landed behind his table. With a wordless screech that sounded very much like "Aargh, shit!" Rufus made a dash for fresh cover. Bullets spanged off the walls around the President's retreating form, but Rufus had mastered the art of running away when he was little and his gun-toting foes would have had more chance of hitting a fly than him. Rufus reached his executive chair, and hid whilst the grenade blew his erstwhile place of refuge across the room. Then, without showing his face, he flipped up the arm of the chair to reveal a row of buttons. The President stabbed his finger down towards the big red Doomsday button, caught himself just in time and diverted his digit to the little yellow button. He had only just done so, however, when he felt the unfortunately familiar sensation of a gun barrel pressing into his neck.
"Get up, Shinra boy," snarled the leather-faced holder of the afore- mentioned weapon.
"Screw you," Rufus replied wittily, assuming the foetal position.
Then there was a noise that can only be described as 'Splat' as Rufus' secret weapon detonated the gunman, and the sound of a weapon firing.
The final remaining gunman stepped over the exploded body of his one-time comrade and looked down at Rufus. There was a bullet wound in his side and something unpleasantly organic stuck to the back of his head. Tipping him over, he also saw that Rufus had retained his shotgun. He knew this for a fact. He could see right down the barrel.
The look of glee on Rufus' face as he pulled the trigger was utterly distasteful.
Climbing wearily back to his feet Rufus went to press the big red Doomsday button, overruled his instincts once more and pressed the small grey button instead. There was a loud clunk as the boardroom doors unlocked themselves. A guard was waiting as the President of Shinra limped out.
"Are you alright, sir?" he asked. Rufus considered shooting him for gross stupidity.
"No, I'm not," was the reply he settled for. "Get me the company medic. The good one, mind, not one of the cheap ones." The guard scuttled off to obey, and Rufus peeled the organic debris from his head and dropped it into a bin.
"I can't take much more of this," he complained to nobody in particular. "There's got to be a better way to make a take-over bid."
THE END
Another bloody suit ruined, Rufus thought to himself. Three in as many days. This is not tolerable. I'll have to get something done about strengthening the cloth. Finding something that can withstand grenade blasts would be a start.
His line of thought was interrupted as more shots hammered into the Mako- augmented steel surface of the upturned table he was sheltering behind. A ricochet ruffled Rufus' hair. The new President of Shinra, Inc. snarled as he realised his immaculate parting was spoiled. Poking his shotgun over the top of his cover, he blazed away without bothering to show his face. Rufus had been in enough gun battles to know that showing one's face to superior opposition was almost certain death. Pulling his gun back, the President grinned at the sound of agonised groans from across the room. His luck had held once again.
Frantically, Rufus searched the pockets of his duster coat until he located more ammunition. Jamming shells into his gun, he risked a look at the fixed table that was between his opponents and himself. Three of the Mako-crystal goblets were empty, he noticed. Three of his enemies had drunk, one was down already, and there had been five to start off with. Definitely worth the risk then, thought Rufus. Get this business over with. For Rufus had a secret weapon. As is usual with these business types. And like most business types, he was keeping it a big secret until he needed it.
Then, much to Rufus' surprise, a hand grenade landed behind his table. With a wordless screech that sounded very much like "Aargh, shit!" Rufus made a dash for fresh cover. Bullets spanged off the walls around the President's retreating form, but Rufus had mastered the art of running away when he was little and his gun-toting foes would have had more chance of hitting a fly than him. Rufus reached his executive chair, and hid whilst the grenade blew his erstwhile place of refuge across the room. Then, without showing his face, he flipped up the arm of the chair to reveal a row of buttons. The President stabbed his finger down towards the big red Doomsday button, caught himself just in time and diverted his digit to the little yellow button. He had only just done so, however, when he felt the unfortunately familiar sensation of a gun barrel pressing into his neck.
"Get up, Shinra boy," snarled the leather-faced holder of the afore- mentioned weapon.
"Screw you," Rufus replied wittily, assuming the foetal position.
Then there was a noise that can only be described as 'Splat' as Rufus' secret weapon detonated the gunman, and the sound of a weapon firing.
The final remaining gunman stepped over the exploded body of his one-time comrade and looked down at Rufus. There was a bullet wound in his side and something unpleasantly organic stuck to the back of his head. Tipping him over, he also saw that Rufus had retained his shotgun. He knew this for a fact. He could see right down the barrel.
The look of glee on Rufus' face as he pulled the trigger was utterly distasteful.
Climbing wearily back to his feet Rufus went to press the big red Doomsday button, overruled his instincts once more and pressed the small grey button instead. There was a loud clunk as the boardroom doors unlocked themselves. A guard was waiting as the President of Shinra limped out.
"Are you alright, sir?" he asked. Rufus considered shooting him for gross stupidity.
"No, I'm not," was the reply he settled for. "Get me the company medic. The good one, mind, not one of the cheap ones." The guard scuttled off to obey, and Rufus peeled the organic debris from his head and dropped it into a bin.
"I can't take much more of this," he complained to nobody in particular. "There's got to be a better way to make a take-over bid."
THE END