(After quitting my job due to lack of insurance and abundance of certain... 'activities' on the job, I'm back to my original update slot thankfully. And as usual, thank you to all those who took the time to read, review, and offer suggestions for future works.
(While writers like Frederick Aloysius like to play itJames Bond, I like to play it Kojima!
(Godhand's Number)
44
Whether Drazen had completely lost it or not, Kim could not tell nor did she care that much. Solomon Rex was trashed beyond repair; his army abandoned him. Though the coveted mount was expansive, he had no place to run. The Americans closed in on him, their rifles trained on the rippling figure while their bent legs shifted them closer. Out manned and out gunned, the metal head would be in for a hell of a fight.
"This'll be short!" Tara folded her arms haughtily, arrogantly.
"No…." Yune's smooth, black mat shook disdainfully. "It won't. I just know it."
She agreed with a nod.
"Is it simply myself," Robin asked rhetorically, "or does Mount Mariah seem a little more -vacant- than it was half an hour ago?"
"Yeah…!" Ron put a hand to his brow, flattened, parallel to the ground. "What happened to the police? I'm sure I saw some patrolling up there—!"
An olive blur dashed out from nowhere! Kim got her answer when it made like a bee, -lining- hurriedly for the suit at the far right - the Chairman! The two other suits whipped around startlingly as the blur smeared past them, right in front of them! The Chairman barely had the time to lift up his hands defensively, but the olive smudge was already behind the poor man. It seized him by the neck, the Chairman rightly clawed back at the appendage - the branch…!
"Stick Man!" she hissed like a sidewinder.
The Americans pulled a 180, the rounds rattling in the assault weapons quite loudly as they retrained them on Drazen's crony. A desert printed limb shot out of the armed group, black glove fingers clenched in a fist for all to see. The soldiers aptly stopped in their edgy tracks while the guns stared coldly at the stick man while he dragged his next victim away.
"Nobody move!" Drazen called out from the safety of his coveted perch. "No one has to die needlessly… yet! Hit it, Eli!"
—WHOOMPH!
Her ears had barely caught the whispering growl before it exploded in a loud -POOF-! Fire leapt out from nowhere at the Major's command. The soldiers were caught off-guard, rifles' cold stares going hot, clattering on the burning ground while their handlers dove for cover! Fiery tongues were greedy for air as they lapped for the sky, licking the foul soles of the Devil's boots clean seemingly from her viewpoint.
"Man, I love a good barbeque!" Drazen laughed. "Don't you, 2nd lieutenant?"
"I do fancy a good roast myself, Sir." The stick man said. "Think about it makes me rather famished. If only Tank Man were still with us…."
"I know." The ass sighed too. "Let's dedicate this to him, shall we?"
"If that's what you want, Sir." Eli agreed. "If you want."
The rippling blur was no more, dropping off the golden dome like a rock, disappearing behind the bright wall of flames. She could have sworn she heard a door open and then close but she couldn't be certain. The crackling fire made it impossible, not to mention the breeze that had just firmly pressed the fabric of her shirt against her back.
"Uzi's going to kill the Chairman!" Robin practically jumped out of her skin. "What are we going to do?"
"Do what we always do!" Ron shouted back. "Isn't that right, KP?"
"That's right, Ron." She nodded firmly. "We're taking him down - for good!"
"But…?" Tara said. "Didn't you say that last time?"
"Not now, T." Yune shook his head. "Damn it! Of all days to forget my gun!"
"Forget about it!" Tara replied. "We still got Sadie and the supplies! We'll be fine."
Kim assured herself with a nod before she rushed the panicked crowd, squeezing, bobbing, and weaving through the hasty masses. It was like swimming upstream through a whitewater rapid, one stroke forward and two strokes back. Thanks to Yune, the turnout was low and she was already between the podiums when the camera crews acknowledged retreat.
"KIM!" Ronnie called for her. It was hard to hear with the flames crackling in her ear. "WHAT'RE YOU DOING?"
"My JOB!" she hollered back.
Taking in a fresh breath, the flames seemed to part from her, flaring away from her pink flares even when she let it out in the midst of her jump. Her white sneakers had a stroke of shade on them when they touched the ground, lingering on the canvas though she was a foot away from the blaze.
"Aw man…!" she moaned. "Club Banana too!"
A sudden, lengthy blackness caught her eye, lingering on the ground just as the shade on her shoes. It was an assault rifle, a soldier's M16A2, the only one that didn't get caught in the fires as far as she could see. It was a sign! She heeded it wisely when she scooped up the assault weapon. Bullets rattled like Tic-Tacs when she popped out the magazine, fully loaded of course. Thirty primers would have mooned her if it weren't for the thin spine of black steel.
Fate shined down upon her favorably, and she slipped her shoulder through the tactical sling. She replaced the magazine, promptly yanking the charging handle. The bolt drew back vacantly before it slammed back home, taking a fresh .223 Remington with it. All bets were off, she nodded at that when she thumbed the safety catch off.
If Drazen and the stick man didn't kill her, the Palestinians sure as heck would.
"You want to play, Uzi?" she frowned while she hopped through the next blaze. "Ha - let's play!"
XXX
This is what the end looked like. The accursed golden onion of the rock was a mystery no more. One of the pinnacles of dirty - rotten - inbred - filth culture revealed itself to him when he parted those double doors. It was beautiful in its own right. Islamic art dappled on the walls, on the spacious roof, stitched on the carpet, all of it encroaching on a large boulder that was fenced in. Fleetingly, -reputedly- it was stood upon by the 'holiest' of feet.
"What?" Uzi blinked needlessly. "No rocket launchers, no bombs, not even a -Pistolet Makarova-?"
"Don't get so down, Major." Eli said as he and the Jericho kept the Chairman at bay. "I'm sure they're here somewhere. Isn't that right, Mr. Chairman?"
"I do not know what you are talking about!" tan skin blossomed out trough the receding salt-and-pepper fur, right at the cap of the menace's skull. He couldn't really see if the brush had died out completely on the back of the -putz's- head, since Eli duly made sure the dog kept its meshed paws planted right there. "This is the Dome of the Rock - the -Haram al-Sharif-! Should we shame ourselves by stashing weapons close to the Noble Rock? I would certainly hope not!"
"I don't believe you." He smirked. "It's permissible to lie to an infidel, if I remember it right. And what a better 'infidel' around here than me? Isn't that right Eli?"
"That's gospel, Major." The good 2nd lieutenant replied heartily.
"Do not confuse me with uniformed fools like Al-Aqsa Martyrs and HAMAS!" The balding mongrel protested. "I am not a terrorist! I am quite possibly the only man in the Authority to recognize Israel as a viable state, unlike my delirious predecessor and competitor! The -intifada- has gotten the Palestinians - my people - nowhere. They are on the verge of destruction it they surely were to keep this up, the weak government collapsing under its own weight. Their home countries would refuse them again! My people would be up the creek with nowhere to come ashore!"
Those dark brown eyes glistened in the warm, golden light. Some of that glisten dripped from those eyes, onto those tired, wrinkled eyelids, rolling down those loose tan cheeks. Sincerity, it was, but history lingered strongly in the air, fouled with shattered dreams and broken promises. It smelled like blood. His time in crumbling Yugoslavia was good for something after all.
"You'd say ANYTHING to get your head out of a noose!" He seethed. The mongrel hesitantly gave him a look. "Don't look at me like that! I always knew Muslim Mongrels like you are second-rate liars! Did you take you take your lessons from France when they offered you a discount on some FA-MAS rifles? Ha! You sure as -hell- picked some lousy tutors."
"No, Mr. Drazen!" The mongrel barked, just like he knew it would. "I am not a liar. You are!"
"Of course…." the vest scratched his knuckles when they met the top of his hip, letting the elbow jaunt out naturally. "It's always the Jews' fault, yes?"
"As I insisted that you do not confuse me with the terrorists, I will not make the same mistake by grouping you with the Israelites!" the mongrel growled. "It would be foolish and fraudulent to do that! Despite violent critics and vultures in the PA, the Jews are some of the most peaceful people I have ever had the pleasure to negotiate with. But not you, Mr. Drazen! You would say ANYTHING, do ANYTHING just to murder!"
"That's Major to you—!"
"You do not even deserve that rank, boy!" the mongrel finished for him. How dare it! "You do not even have privilege to be called a man. I do not even know why I was afraid of you, boy! I would curse your mustache if you had one, you monkey!"
The dog's head was growing too fat for its skull structure. He'd take care of that.
"Eli…." His good eye took in all the scenery as he let out a groan.
"On it, Sir." Eli nodded - and the dog yelped when the good 2nd Lieutenant gave it a firm -double-tap- on the legs, a tap on each limb. The look on its cringing mug was exquisite. The legs of its pants shimmered dully in fattening lines… and sparkling brightly on the floor in blossoming crimson dribbles. "There."
"Thank you, Eli." He smiled devilishly. "Just be lucky my brother's not here, or he'd have a field day!"
"How…!" the mongrel bared its teeth menacingly. "—How on earth would that be different from you?"
"That's a good point." His finger just barely touched his chin thoughtful before he dropped it. "I don't know. Either way, you'd end up just like everybody else!"
The mongrel mumbled bitterly, passing through those teeth painfully. It wanted to touch its wounds, probably wanting to lick them clean. The interlock of its digits waned for that purpose, but the Baby Eagle's rattling kept them firmly laced. He could have sworn the dog mumbled a curse at him. Something along the lines of "bastard", but he wasn't certain.
So he simply decided to be certain.
"What was that…?" he sneered. "Do you have something to say to me…?"
"Go…!" the mongrel whimpered. "FUCK yourself!"
He frowned. "You first."
The dog growled at him and… grew…! Growing fat, it was… bubbling… boiling on its resentment, anger, and fury but—! Eli…. Eli was bubbling too… boiling just like the rest of the monument! It was like watching oil gurgle. The good 2nd lieutenant's voice was muted and distant, like the man was calling for him in a cave.
"Sir…?" Eli asked faintly.
"-Oh…! -" His thumb slipped loosely around on his glove, watching it pulsate atop his forefinger - till the cloth swallowed that elusive red button. Tanks on his back gasped for him. Arms, legs, back, chest; his whole body inflated like a balloon. Quickly and surely the motion sickness simply melted off him. "Good Lord…! I think I'm going to puke!"
"You all right, Sir?" Eli asked.
"Damn motion sickness…!" he cursed. "At least this new Goliath still works!"
"Don't overdose." the man warned. "You've worked too hard."
"Finally!" he breathed in gladly. "Someone who understands me!"
"I do my best, Sir." Eli nodded. "So what's your next move?"
He smiled, and the assault back met the floor beside him with a -THUNK-. "I'm glad you asked."
He scooped up the pack by a thick strap, hoisting it up to his eyelevel for all two to see. The mongrel's brow perked. Eli gave a sigh, and the Baby Eagle self nestled back into its narrow nest. Those thin arms went wide - and they looked like they were about to snap clean off when he caught the pack.
"It's time." He nodded back. "You know what to do."
"W-What are you talking about?" the dog cringed still. "What are you going to do…?"
"This is the end!" he smiled warmly. "Former Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, Israel…! I've been fighting for more than a decade, and finally the fight comes to a close. Among the Albanian mujahideen, I was known and feared as '-Dajjal-'. Today, I eagerly hope I live up to that mark! The blood of my enemies has paved the path to my ultimate fate, my destiny. I have no regrets. Rejoice! The end comes in a glorious battle! It will make a fine display for my final act! -Selah-!"
"Are you mad?" the mongrel's brow furrowed. "This is not glorious! It is just simple murder! DEATH AND DESTRUCTION IS NOT A GAME!"
He scoffed. "It's do - or - die - time, filth! We'll see if there's any mettle in your words just yet—!"
The doors behind slammed open, resonating throughout the sanctuary with a flat bang! He shrugged it off. It didn't take a genius as to why, and his suspicions proved him right (like they always did) as the intruder called out to him in an alto.
"DRAZEN!" Little Kimberly barked.
He let out a sigh, and the stubborn Mick whipped in front of him with a simple about-face. Galil's handiwork gazed callously back at him, her gaze cold as the chunk of steel she clenched tightly by the grips. G did a great job, he must admit. Her emeralds were broken, much of the sparkling, twinkling sheen simply gone.
Wonderful! When innocence was finally laid to rest, pushing up daisies while the maggots feasted, all's right in the world.
XXX
"Well, well, well…!" The devil smiled... warmly? "Guess who made it after all! I was hoping I could take a leak on the rock before you got here. You're not as dumb as you look after all. Not many people know the after-parties can be even better than the main event! Glad you could make it, the celebration's about to start!"
He smiled at her. By God, that stubborn freak -smiled- at her! Something was wrong, not to say that it's different from any other of their previous confrontations. But Uzi…! Where was the bitter crass, the volatile temperament? He wasn't crocked per se, yet he was drunk, probably half-past-drowned in his own radical delirium.
"Cut the bullshit, Drazen!" Her trembling finger slipped off the cold frame, curling adeptly behind the trigger guard. "I'm taking you down!"
"This situation…." The monster blinked ascetically. "I find it very nostalgic. Déjà vu all over again, don't you, Kimmie? Back on your Pacific coastline, yes?"
She hissed. "Shut up!"
"Of course I was a little closer to you." He carried on obliviously. "I was standing there, in Escutcheon's fess point, right after I left the nerve center. And that blond buffoon! Ha—! I wonder now how'd he like that elbow to the head. Not that it matters anymore. Nothing does anymore! He'll be dead, just like me and the rest of you!"
"I said SHUT UP!" she barked. "After Tank Man - DON'T THINK I WON'T KILL YOU!"
"Of course!" he grinned deliriously. "Always like an American to send his bitch first!"
She growled again.
"Out of all the people I put to rest, not one of them was as irritating as you!" he frowned. "No matter how many times I had you cornered, no matter how many times I thought I had you, you always squeezed through my fingers! I cannot express just how… -aggravating- that can be!"
"It's a gift." She furrowed her brow.
"Still," the Devil shrugged, "I'll enjoy killing you as much as I will killing the buffoon!"
"That's enough, Drazen!" she shouted. "The game's over! Much to my dissatisfaction, if you surrender now I won't put one rightly through that thick skull!"
Drazen laughed. "You think you can kill me? That's a laugh, Kimmie! You couldn't kill me on Escutcheon, you couldn't kill me -Shabbat-, and you can't kill me now. And since you can't put - me - out - my - misery, I might as well kill everyone I can!"
"That your final answer?" she spat. "You want to take your final journey? Fine! I got thirty tickets right here I'm just -aching- to give away!"
Drazen cocked his head quizzically - and there came a -WHOOSH-! The Devil's fouled shroud rippled in the breeze, pleating haphazardly as he tore it off his collar. It was like a puddle of blood on the floor, blackened by the foul air lingering around the freak like an aura. The king of the fiery underworld stood proudly before her, puffing out its charred breastplate pompously, draping with dark tubes that… -pierced- into his naked arms. Even in the black fabric of his pants, they were driven through!
With the sling up and over his head, his bulky combat load dropped to his side. The major cringed lightly, and the bolt slammed flawlessly… all by itself!
"Nice trick." She said.
Drazen smirked back, and with a swoop of his only hand, he motioned for that patch of raw, untouched stone. The fabled Noble Rock! Never in her life she thought she would see something of its magnitude, but she didn't recall a woodland printed backpack in any of the photographs. Drazen smiled deliriously again.
"Want to know what that is?"
She eased her finger from the trigger; she practically knew it already.
"The Neutron Bomb!" she cursed.
"Yes!" he nodded fervently. "It's the highlight of the party! When it goes off, it'll be another shot heard round the world - and the world will come running with guns a-blazing! It'll take everyone on-site with it, even this dog here, and irradiate the accursed mountain for decades! But when it's not anymore, it'll be too late."
"You're serious about destroying this planet?" the pad of her finger found the trigger blade again. "What good would that do?"
"It's who I am!" he frowned. "I don't care why!"
"Fuck…!" she let her eyes take a deserved lap around her head. "Was Unknown as bad as you?"
For the first time that she could remember, Drazen went bug-eyed. As the powers that be and the PA Chairman were witnesses, that metal-head went bug-eyed - even the scrambled-egg one!
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" he demanded.
"Why so surprised, Drazen?" she smirked. "That's whom you're created from, right, a phenotype with 95-percent reproduction of the prime donor, yes?"
Those eyes boggled. "How…?"
"Dr. Phil, of course." She would have laughed at that under any other circumstance. "He told me all about it."
"Oh…!" he frowned gravely. "So that's what you've been after all this time, eh?"
"What?" she blinked.
"Don't play dumb with me!" he growled. "Unknown's Legacy, isn't that right? Isn't that what Mossad contracted you to steal from me, ISN'T IT?"
"Impossible!" the chairman exclaimed. "The legacy, it's missing! It went missing during the Human Genome Project! Everybody knows that!"
She was perplexed.
"Unknown!" Drazen growled lividly. "Don't tell me you haven't heard of the Unknown, Kimmie! Possibly one of the greatest soldiers of the Second World War, and you're in the dark about it? According to myth, he's one of the men responsible for the defeat of the Axis powers as well as for the call to reestablish Israel! And I bet your looking for some sort of record pertaining to him and his legacy, AREN'T YOU?"
This dude's nuts! - She acknowledged her mind's whisper with a nod. -Nuts! -
"The fuck…?" she shook her head. "You've lost it!"
"No matter!" he dismissed. "All the better for me! When the bomb goes off, everything will come to an end! We'll chase the wind for all eternity, and Unknown's Legacy will go along with it!"
"Whatever will help you die peacefully, Drazen!" she furrowed her brow. "I don't have anymore time for your bull!"
"Oh, Kimmie…!" his smirk was smug. This was it: the final battle was here! The time for talk was over. Drazen lifted his cumbersome arm - and her trigger slack was already gone! "Don't get your panties in a twist just yet. You've come all this way, and you're still not having any FUN!"
And so the ballistic requiem ensued. Who it was for, she didn't know just yet!
XXX
Abu was speechless!
At a sheer loss of words, he was, when two of the Bloody Reds had stolen away Palestine's moment of victory. The black monkey gloated from atop that sacred dome, staining it, violating it with the grimy soles of its bloodied boots. Its underling swept into the scene like a hawk; snatching the Chairman with its lanky talons while it carted him away, out of sight.
Then, within not even a tinkle of the tired eye, the black monkey poured out his rage in an inferno that consumed the entire mount! Not even the water that had been upwelling on the site (at the Jews' behest, of course) could have quenched it. Above the lapping tongues, the blaze breathed out dark, churning plumes as though it had black lung. The bright sun above soon went flush with a furious red, glaring down upon them disparagingly.
Though He was of the moon, Allah was furious!
Those Americans affirmed his suspicions, cutting and running just like every time since the second Great War. They would pay for that; they would pay for everything that has and will happen! Whatever cells festering within their homeland would make sure of it.
The crowds too made like those cowardly soldiers, pushing, shoving their way down the steps. But one literally rubbed his -kaffiyeh- the wrong way, squeezing between Muhammad and himself as -she- hurried up the steps. Probably confused, but her head; he couldn't get it out of his head, fiery as the blaze upon the mount. He wasn't sure if it was indeed her hair or a bright -hijab-. People behind him called out to her, but she seemed to pay them no mind.
"Father!" Muhammad exclaimed. "The Blood Reds have captured our leader!"
"I can -see- that, my son!" he replied.
"That monster cannot do this!" Muhammad was practically hysterical. "He CANNOT DO THIS! What're we going to do?"
"I do not know, son!" he exclaimed back. "I simply do not! But all we can do is pray to Allah, and ask that He at least spare the Chairman and all of Palestine - the occupation or not!"
"Even the Jews?" His son went flabbergast. "They do not deserve His mercy!"
"Son, there is no time for that now!" he shouted.
"Then what do we do?" Muhammad demanded. "Ask the Bloody Reds to play nice?"
"That would work on their government counterparts, but no." he shook his head. "We'll figure something out, but we must take our leave!"
"But—!"
"Now, son!"
XXX
The sun glared down upon them furiously, shining angrily while its rays filtered through in red while black smoke overwhelmed the sky. Kim had rushed through the crowd hastily, facing fate hastily when she jumped through the flaming wire. Coming home alive or in a box, she didn't care as long as she tried her best to help.
But Ron did care. It was his only real complaint about his love: she was too damn brave for her own good. No, that wasn't it. It was more like stubbornness, and her time with Drazen and his freaks obviously had hardened her resolve. Obsessing over her target, aching to take him down even it meant her life! Reciprocal fear, it was.
Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the choice of something more important than fear, even if it meant to take a few steps back and think for a moment—!
RAT-ATAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT—! -
He dropped to a crouch. Gunshots; many of them! All of them blasted out from that golden dome. If not, then they had to be somewhere nearby.
"Shit!" he cursed. "KIM!"
He sprang upright. One leg was already in a severe crook when he brought the knee to his belly, ready to run - but a large hand clamped onto his shoulder firmly.
"Ron," Yune called, "wait a minute!"
"Get off me, Dude-San!" he glared back, shoving his hand off. "Kim's in trouble! There's no time!"
"I know that!" he frowned. "But Drazen's up there! You go up there pulling that macho bullshit, you'll be dead before you hit the ground!"
"I don't have time for this!" he shouted. "ANY OF THIS!"
"This guy's a PROFESSIONAL!" the Asian snarled. "You're going to get yourself killed!"
Several more claps of gunfire. He looked, and the shifting, churning blackness encroached swiftly upon the Dome of the Rock like the angel of death; a blinding, suffocating cloud that no one could escape. Nobody would last long in that, breathing it in, stumbling blindly if the flames didn't devour him or her first. The smoke would consume Kim, strangling her while she hacked out her life force in the midst of haggard breaths.
He turned back around. Yune looked at him gravely.
"You do what YOU have to do!" he frowned. "I'm going! Don't try to stop me!"
A sigh.
"Very well, Stoppable." Yune replied. "Or should I say - Un-stoppable now? But if you're going, so am I!"
"What?" his eyes batted. "No! This is—!"
"This is it!" Yune finished for him. "The last mission. You're going to need all the help you can get!"
"Fine!" he shook his head. "Whatever! On one condition though, you leave Drazen to me!"
"As you wish." The Korean shrugged. "I'm here if you need me."
"Exactly!"
Yune spun around on his feet swiftly, stumbling when his heels slipped off the thin step completely.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed. "Anyway, Tara! Robin! Go get Sadie, and get her up here - post-haste! I don't care what you have to do, just get it done. That's an order - and no buts!"
"Whatever you say, Hon." the blonde replied with a quick, stiff salute before she began her trot down the stairs. "You got it. Come on, Rob!"
"Coming." the cream figure shrank as it too made its way down the steps. "I am coming! Slow and steady wins the race, after all!"
"We're going to have to wait up for them." Yune turned back around. "There's no turning back now. You ready to do this, Ron?"
"For KP?" he folded his arms tightly. "I'd do anything!"
"Glad you feel that way," the Asian shrugged, "because this is going to be bumpy!"
"Of course!"
Ron nodded… and then his eyelids parted just a little wider while his brow went into a definite kink.
"-Bumpy…? -"
XXX
"Well!" Uzi said confidently. With a whispering flapper, the poncho had wrapped around him loosely, draping off his shoulders comfortably as he snapped the collar button. "That was refreshing!"
Kim Possible, little Kimberly Anne Possible; who would have surely thought! He had to give the Mick credit. That fiery redhead sure had a lot of spunk and had the skills to back it up. She was indeed the oeuvre of the modern woman, everything that women's rights, feminism, reputed liberation aspired to be. Their thesis, their opus right here - before him: a true Rosie the Riveter.
A little too easy, actually…! -
Just like society's antithesis it fell, shattering into pieces in the wake of true greatness. A noble effort, she was, a prototype with great promise. Yet again, some promises were purely meant to be broken, like her! She lay helplessly before him in a tired heap, broken, chipped down to size by his hand. Her hair was puddle of different red on the crimson floor, her own crimson deepening the carpet's own. The small of her back hardly lifted at all.
"If you think as much, Major Drazen." Eli argued gently. "However, I believe that 96 put up quite a fight, given her opponent. I'm quite surprised she lasted this long."
"Me too." He felt his lips yank into a smirk. "Thankfully, this Mick had the brains to become a cheerleader, gymnastics and all. If she were stuck on a debate team, I would have drilled one between her eyes not even a quarter way through!"
"Exactly." Eli replied. "Fate has a way of working things out for the best. You did away with her and got a good workout in."
"True." He nodded. "It's been a long time since I had such a good fight. I didn't even have to use much of the drugs. A shame I was just getting warmed up."
He took to a squeaky knee beside her, letting his fingers comb through her soft, flowing hair. A true beauty indeed; so beautiful, so angelic, so perfect! And how perfect it'd be when that beauty putrefies, tissues melting on the ground like a Sloppy Joe just like everyone else on this filthy, twirling mud-ball! Soon, it would come to pass, oh-so very soon indeed…!
"A fine woman, little Kimberly was." He sighed. "It almost pains me to have to finish her. Almost…!"
"You would murder an innocent girl just for kicks?" the mongrel winced still. "You truly are disgusting!"
"How'd that be any different from you and your kind, dog?" he frowned back. "You Muslims are all the same! Shooting, frying, burning us to death, even if we were alive at one point!"
"I do not speak for the terrorists festering within the disputed territories." The balding dog growled. "I cannot speak for them! Like you, Drazen! You do not speak for all the Israelis, here and abroad! Considering your actions the past several days, I hardly would believe they would accept you as their own! For you would be wholeheartedly rejected! You -will- go down in flames: a treacherous heathen to your own people and a monster of catastrophe and genocide to mine!"
"Catastrophe, eh…?" he smiled warmly. "I like the sound of that!"
The dog growled rabidly, a sign of abrupt events to come!
"I despise you, Drazen." The mongrel spat bitterly. "If this were not a holy site, I surely would spit upon the ground!"
"No one's stopping you!" he smirked giddily. "Spit, pee, defecate! It's all in good fun. Besides, that fight really made my bladder slosh. Now, if you two excuse me, I have a boulder to desecrate."
"That's what you want, Major Drazen." Eli shrugged. "I won't stop you. Take all the time you need, just for me!"
"Thanks." He said. "But time's too long for my—!"
—BLAMM! —
—"Taste…!"
He turned around, and what a bad taste at that. Bitter it was, festering on the back of his tongue, with but a hint of sourness at the tip. It ruined his moment; his victory fallen to the ground, crushed underneath those large double doors while an SUV rolled atop of them. Painted hot red, it was lost almost upon the floor if it weren't for that yellow streak running diagonal on the body.
"BURN!" the machine shouted out like Matt, except with a more feminine timbre.
"Yeah…!" Its wavy blonde pilot agreed with a bob. "I'm never doing that again!"
The gang's all here, futilely come to rescue dear little Kimberly from her inexorable fate. It was lost on one of the passenger, lengthy blond bangs quivering over several definite freckles as he leapt out of the vehicle. The boy rushed for the girl, the sanctuary resonating in his blaring shout.
"KP!"