Chapter 9: A Fruity Plan
"Where the Hell is Void?" Shivan pondered, casting his eyes about.
There was another gunshot and a scream.
"Isn't it obvious?" Magna said. "He's picking off n00bs."
Void came running out of the forest, shouting wildly.
"There's too many," he cried. "I don't wanna waste my bullets."
Shivan frowned.
"OK people!" he declared. "Get your asses mobilized! Grab some sticks, or something!"
Celtic untied her hair and let it fall beautifully on her shoulders. In her right hand was her faithful rolling pin. Shivan walked up and put his hand on hers.
"Honey," he said, "you aren't going to get far with a rolling pin."
"Try me," she said defiantly.
Magna unsheathed his sword and held it in the sun. Light refracting within its glass blade, and it appeared that a red flare kindled within.
Burgess took out his chair from. Somewhere. No one was quite sure how he got it.
Mysty reached into her cloak and removed a bone-handled steel knife.
"Alright everyone," Burgess said. "Let's kick some ****ing ass, shall we?"
".Eww," was the collective reply.
***
In the melee below the stage there were two calm men. One was cloaked in blue. There were scarlet strips in the cloth of his cloak, and at their edges was a sliver of black. His hair was a toss of black and white, and in his strong face burned keen blue eyes.
"Listen," Infernal said, "we need guns."
He was speaking to a man whose cloak was brightly colored, and whose long orange hair was thrown back so as to not hide a gleeful face. Around his head there was a band of obsidian twisted expertly into intricate designs.
"So?" Emperor Pie asked.
"You have pies."
"Flaming pies."
Infernal slapped himself in the forehead.
"All I gotta do is light them on fire," Emperor Pie said. "Then those WWESB suckers won't know what hit 'em."
"Pie is what hit 'em," Infernal countered.
"Do you got any fire or not?"
"It just so happens," Infernal said, "that I do." Indeed he did. Beside him was a pile of thick, broken tree boughs. In his left hand he held a lighter.
He took a bough, lit it, and tossed the brand to Emperor. Emperor then took one of his pies from a wheelbarrow beside him and lit it on fire.
"It's strawberry," he said.
In one powerful motion he hurled the pie into the air. Fire and smoke trailed after it as it burned.
It fell somewhere in the forest. The dismay of their enemies was heard throughout the clearing, and YSBers rushed to Emperor and Infernal's side, taking pies and brands and assisting in the defense. Soon the Vale was afire.
Shivan walked to Infernal's side.
"Nice job there," he said.
"Always bring a few clubs along with you to major riots," Infernal responded nonchalantly. "It helps break the ice."
"What about me?" Emperor asked as he grabbed another pie (Playboy flavor). "I'm the guy who brought the pies."
"Yeah," Shivan said. "You're also the guy who's splooging on his hand."
"Where the Hell is Void?" Shivan pondered, casting his eyes about.
There was another gunshot and a scream.
"Isn't it obvious?" Magna said. "He's picking off n00bs."
Void came running out of the forest, shouting wildly.
"There's too many," he cried. "I don't wanna waste my bullets."
Shivan frowned.
"OK people!" he declared. "Get your asses mobilized! Grab some sticks, or something!"
Celtic untied her hair and let it fall beautifully on her shoulders. In her right hand was her faithful rolling pin. Shivan walked up and put his hand on hers.
"Honey," he said, "you aren't going to get far with a rolling pin."
"Try me," she said defiantly.
Magna unsheathed his sword and held it in the sun. Light refracting within its glass blade, and it appeared that a red flare kindled within.
Burgess took out his chair from. Somewhere. No one was quite sure how he got it.
Mysty reached into her cloak and removed a bone-handled steel knife.
"Alright everyone," Burgess said. "Let's kick some ****ing ass, shall we?"
".Eww," was the collective reply.
***
In the melee below the stage there were two calm men. One was cloaked in blue. There were scarlet strips in the cloth of his cloak, and at their edges was a sliver of black. His hair was a toss of black and white, and in his strong face burned keen blue eyes.
"Listen," Infernal said, "we need guns."
He was speaking to a man whose cloak was brightly colored, and whose long orange hair was thrown back so as to not hide a gleeful face. Around his head there was a band of obsidian twisted expertly into intricate designs.
"So?" Emperor Pie asked.
"You have pies."
"Flaming pies."
Infernal slapped himself in the forehead.
"All I gotta do is light them on fire," Emperor Pie said. "Then those WWESB suckers won't know what hit 'em."
"Pie is what hit 'em," Infernal countered.
"Do you got any fire or not?"
"It just so happens," Infernal said, "that I do." Indeed he did. Beside him was a pile of thick, broken tree boughs. In his left hand he held a lighter.
He took a bough, lit it, and tossed the brand to Emperor. Emperor then took one of his pies from a wheelbarrow beside him and lit it on fire.
"It's strawberry," he said.
In one powerful motion he hurled the pie into the air. Fire and smoke trailed after it as it burned.
It fell somewhere in the forest. The dismay of their enemies was heard throughout the clearing, and YSBers rushed to Emperor and Infernal's side, taking pies and brands and assisting in the defense. Soon the Vale was afire.
Shivan walked to Infernal's side.
"Nice job there," he said.
"Always bring a few clubs along with you to major riots," Infernal responded nonchalantly. "It helps break the ice."
"What about me?" Emperor asked as he grabbed another pie (Playboy flavor). "I'm the guy who brought the pies."
"Yeah," Shivan said. "You're also the guy who's splooging on his hand."