I own not Spaced, but do, do the magical Brittish

Nevermind the bollocks

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Tim ran up to a car in the middle of the road,

"GET OUT NOW!" he tossed the poor bystander from her car and drove off, police sirens and helicopters on his six. "Awww, for Pete's sake!" he stopped the car, and stepped out holding an RPG. "Take this, you bloody pigs!" Tim fired a rocket at a police helicopter that had him directly in it's search-light. The rocket connected with the giant flying machine and it started to spin uncontrolably. "Shit!" Tim ran away from the plumeting helicopter on foot. As it hit the ground, the explosion sent Tim falling to the ground. He quickly got to his feet, and as he ran, he was met by an FBI convoy, blocking his path. "Aw man, and I almost got six stars," Tim said dissapointed. The commanding officer shouted to his men.

"FIRE!" The SWAT members unloaded round after round from their full auto SMGs into Tim's convulsing body.

WASTED

Pete walked up to Tim's bullet riddled body, "My turn!" He said cheerfully.

-

Tim tossed Pete the controller. "I would've gotten away with it too if it weren't for those bleedin' teenagers, and that Godamn dog," Tim said re-adjusting his ass in the beanbag chair.

"Yeah, mate, that's what they all say," Pete started pressing buttons, as he started his journey to find a tank in San Andreas.

"You guys still at it?" Daisy said walking in the door with groceries.

"Hey, you try beating a few hookers in the parking lot of the local chicken chain, and not get hooked," Tim said as he started rolling up what appeared to be a double stuffed joint of Jamacian fire. "Oh," he got up, "Did you get that curry from Fahim's Indian Market and Off Track Betting I told you to get?"

Daisy hissed through her teeth, "Ohhh, I knew I forgot something..."

Tim cringed...

After a handgun, an Uzi, and a golf club, a shotgun appeared in Tim's hands. "You'd better run bitch!"

"OH MY GOD, TIM!" Daisy ran screaming out of the flat into the street.

"Yeah!" Mike yelled in encouragement as Tim chased after her.

Tim got out into the street and stopped a car.

"Gimmie your wheels!" he said in a blind furry.

"Bugger off!" The driver said, aparently and Irish driver (he'd fix him later). Tim jettisoned the man from the Volvo and jumped in. He accelerated untill he caught up with the wheezing running figure of Daisy. He rammed her with the car, and she flew up into the air.

Tim got out and finished her off with a close range blast to the stomach. He then collected the floating money above her body.

-

"Tim? TIM?" Daisy tried to get get his attention.

"What,"

"I asked do you want me to go out and get some?"

"Oh no, thanks," Tim walked back over to the beanbag and lit up the joint, "You take over for a while, mate," he said to Mike.

"Groovy," he said as he warmed up the chainsaw.