"Honestly Otacon, the last time I saw you wearing something like that, you
were cowering in a locker after having messed yourself.." said a gruff
voice with a hint of a laugh. A well built but compact man clad in olive
spattered fatigues was in a woodland cabin, talking to his comrade, a
skinny man with less than tamed brown hair wearing a lab coat of sorts. The
one speaking had a cigarette clenched in his teeth like a dog to its bone.
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The skinny guy shook his head, looking up from some sort of mechanical device he had laid out on a table, "Do you have to poke fun at everything I do?" The other man tilted his head, "I'll knock it off, Otacon, just as soon as you tell me what we're doing in this hell-hole." The man sighed, obviously frustrated with the other's language, "What we're doing is stopping the illegal slaughter of-" "HOLD ON A MINUTE."
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"Oh no, Snake, you can't take over this story..." "Don't tell me what to do. Now then, this story is going to be funny. And Otacon will enjoy it." "No I won't..." "You will, trust me. So will all of you reading this." Snake smirks and waves at the readers. "I am not responsible for anything this man does..." says Otacon as he leaves the room.
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It was a not-so-hot-but-kind-of-sticky-like-it's-pretending-to-be-hot kind of summer day, and Revolver Ocelot was bumbling around his headquarters like an idiot in his trench coat. The man paced back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and...never mind...He was just walking around a lot in his office. "Walk back and forth one thousand times and it kills the ferret..."
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Presently, a squirrel wearing a sombrero entered the office, "Dude...you owe me stuff..." Ocelot kept up his pacing, his speech broken up for he only spoke when he was near the squirrel, "Who are...you?" The squirrel hopped up and down for no reason, "I am the tax collector." Ocelot frowned, "No, you're...just...a...squirrel...!!!" ((I didn't know exclamation points could be vocalized until now..)) "Damn, I've been found out!" the squirrel ran away, and Ocelot was left pacing.
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"Now, where was I...Oh yes! The ferret..." For days Ocelot had been trying various and assorted ways to remedy a computer virus which had infected his desktop with an annoying digital ferret that yelled "UNDERWEAR!" every time someone ran a program, opened a new window, or refreshed a page. He had consulted everyone and every site he knew to help him with his problem, but to no avail.
-----------------------------------------------------
At one time, Ocelot had attempted to ignore the fiend by turning his computer's sound off. This worked for five minutes before pop-ups began appearing. The pop-ups appeared and multiplied until his computer overloaded and shut down. This left him no choice but to turn the sound back on and endure the undergarment ferret.
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So ends the first chapter of...SNAKE SAMA'S WORLD OF FUN!!!
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"That title's a little over dramatic, don't you think?" said Otacon as he tapped a pencil against his chin. "You have no taste, go away." came the reply from a certain Snake Sama, who runs this show, who is the head honcho, the big cheese, the big sauerkraut if you're in Germany. "Sauerkraut? What the hell, Snake?!??"
-----------------------------------------------------
The skinny guy shook his head, looking up from some sort of mechanical device he had laid out on a table, "Do you have to poke fun at everything I do?" The other man tilted his head, "I'll knock it off, Otacon, just as soon as you tell me what we're doing in this hell-hole." The man sighed, obviously frustrated with the other's language, "What we're doing is stopping the illegal slaughter of-" "HOLD ON A MINUTE."
-----------------------------------------------------
"Oh no, Snake, you can't take over this story..." "Don't tell me what to do. Now then, this story is going to be funny. And Otacon will enjoy it." "No I won't..." "You will, trust me. So will all of you reading this." Snake smirks and waves at the readers. "I am not responsible for anything this man does..." says Otacon as he leaves the room.
-----------------------------------------------------
It was a not-so-hot-but-kind-of-sticky-like-it's-pretending-to-be-hot kind of summer day, and Revolver Ocelot was bumbling around his headquarters like an idiot in his trench coat. The man paced back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and...never mind...He was just walking around a lot in his office. "Walk back and forth one thousand times and it kills the ferret..."
-----------------------------------------------------
Presently, a squirrel wearing a sombrero entered the office, "Dude...you owe me stuff..." Ocelot kept up his pacing, his speech broken up for he only spoke when he was near the squirrel, "Who are...you?" The squirrel hopped up and down for no reason, "I am the tax collector." Ocelot frowned, "No, you're...just...a...squirrel...!!!" ((I didn't know exclamation points could be vocalized until now..)) "Damn, I've been found out!" the squirrel ran away, and Ocelot was left pacing.
-----------------------------------------------------
"Now, where was I...Oh yes! The ferret..." For days Ocelot had been trying various and assorted ways to remedy a computer virus which had infected his desktop with an annoying digital ferret that yelled "UNDERWEAR!" every time someone ran a program, opened a new window, or refreshed a page. He had consulted everyone and every site he knew to help him with his problem, but to no avail.
-----------------------------------------------------
At one time, Ocelot had attempted to ignore the fiend by turning his computer's sound off. This worked for five minutes before pop-ups began appearing. The pop-ups appeared and multiplied until his computer overloaded and shut down. This left him no choice but to turn the sound back on and endure the undergarment ferret.
-----------------------------------------------------
So ends the first chapter of...SNAKE SAMA'S WORLD OF FUN!!!
-----------------------------------------------------
"That title's a little over dramatic, don't you think?" said Otacon as he tapped a pencil against his chin. "You have no taste, go away." came the reply from a certain Snake Sama, who runs this show, who is the head honcho, the big cheese, the big sauerkraut if you're in Germany. "Sauerkraut? What the hell, Snake?!??"