Bert and Jack are fleeing like mad to avoid becoming chow for the newly increased population of Grabboids. blip blip BLIP BLIP BLIP! "Holy Shit!", bert exclaimed as he checked the most recent pings off the sensor. "static Bert to Jack, inbound, I count fifteen, say again FIFTEEN Grabboids inbound." A look of horror and disbelief appeared on Jacks face as he comprehended the message. If we just lost about 12 and now recently gained 15 from a different direction... that means at least 30 Grabboids are out there...and that means at least... 600 Screachers!!! Well, they'd be getting their adrenaline rushing by the time this was over. They both were flooring it to get back to the newly fortified compound to recruit some fighters to repel the incredibly large force presented to them. Along the way, the only sterile Grabboid, El Blanco, rose in front of them and attempted to crush Bert with his girth. Luckily Bert swerved in time, cursing the worm. From there on it was calm seas on "boats" moving at roughly 80mph. They thought of the consequences should and when the Grabboids give birth and the army of the 2 legged horrors unleashed their hunger on the population. Bert only hoped that they only got to the Screacher stage because fending off the explosive Ass-Blasters was hell. They pass through the wrecked fortified gate and assumed the worst, INFESTATION. There were Screacher carcasses strewn around the courtyard and he looked around to see what had happened."Heeeey, Bert!" a distant voice rang out. Bert looked around to find the person and saw his Ex standing on the roof with an MG42 mounted up there, all around the base of the building was spent brass. "I heard the little bastards break in somehow and I just went to the roof for safety."

Bert looked up in amazement and looked to Jack, muttering, "I never knew she knew how to operate anything more complex than a manicure set..."

later Bert strolled into his parlor, briefing the new recruits from the military Spec Ops dept. on the threat facing them and all about "Perfection 101" (as he called it). He told them how to lure the Screachers into droves and gun them down and told them to seek shelter if things got out of hand and Ass-Blasters emerged. He then armed them accordingly; Bert was armed with his favorite AR the AK-103, Jack was in charge of the Flakvierling that was mounted on the back of his truck while the two women loaded it, PFC. Jenkins (yes it's overused isn't it?) was armed with a S.W.A.T. assault shotgun, Cpl. Miller was toting around the .50 cal sniper rifle that he always used in a combat situation, and last of all, a retired cop by the name of Richard Mills carrying the mafiaesk Thompson with a drum clip that had been in his family for over 70 years. They waited roughly 17 hours before the flyover satellite scans showed hundreds of small tightly grouped contacts moving up on the perimeter. With that, Bert called, "Gentlemen, prepare to defend yourselves. LOCK AND LOAD", and with that he slammed a fresh clip into the AR and racked a round into the chamber.