Ok, it's been a while, but here I am again, with another one of my CD's!
Anyway, this thread is a center for comic relief, specifically made for the author swamped in romance scenes, blood and battles, or the death of a beloved character.
Here's the deal: Your world (whatever it may be) is completely peaceful. No war, no missions, no plot, nothing. And you know what? It's KILLING YOUR CHARACTERS!!! They haven't shot someone's brains out, felt the satisfying crush of bone, caused a bloody nose, or pushed past an old lady to pursue their chosen criminal (and who doesn't love the flailing old lady, I mean, come on!) in weeks! They're bored, trigger happy, and on the verge of having a hysterical meltdown. Hmm... so what happens to the first person to annoy them?I've given you the inspiration: Show me what you've got and make it FUNNY!
Looks fun:) I'll see what I can do.
It was pure agony, there was nothing to do and I mean NOTHING. We haven't search for the cure in over a week, a WEEK! I was so bored that I'm just laying on the floor, staring at the stupid ceilling. I miss being chased by the bad guys and worst of all I miss shooting them in the brains. I'm very annoyed right now and might go crazy if someone even bothers me. "What the heck are you doing?" I sat up aiming my pistal straight at Spike. "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Don't aim that thing at me, what did I ever do to you?" Ummm a lot of things! "Leave me alone Spike because I'm about to shoot any living thing that moves, inclueing YOU!" "Why is it always me who always get a gun or knife aim at me?" I laugh half craz. "I really don't know, maybe its' because you look so shootable." He glares at me as I laugh. "Ha, ha, ha really funny Erika, but I think you have completly lost half of you brain and I'm afraid you might lose the other half." I heard him say as I burst into fits of laughter. I frozed when I heard my gun go off, fallowed by the sound of a howl in pain. I sat up, me and Spike staring at eachother. Spike looks down at himself and then back to me. "Yay!!! I didn't get shot this time, BOOYAH!!!!" I tilted my head to the side cnfused. "Wait if you're the one who didn't get shot...who did?" "Over here." We both look to see Vlad stainding in the door frame holding on to the right side. When I saw where my bullet had hit him, I start laughing like crazy. Soon after Spike joins me. "Yeah, laugh in up you two because I'm trigger happy too." We stared at eachother then to Vlad. He looked like a crazy person when he held up his shotgun. "Holy cow, I'm out of here!" I yelled as I got up and ran. "Run for your boring life! Hes' gone crazy!" "Hey! Don't you want to meet my new friend? Hes' really nice and I promise to only shot you both in the foot, like me!" I screamed both thrilled and a little scared. "Holy crud!" "What?" "He stopped." We both slowed down to a stop. "He what?" "Do I have to keep repeating myself?" "Yes... yes you do. Now say it again!" He gives me a dirty look. "He. had. stopped. stupid." I patted him on the back. "Thanks so much my ideat friend." "No comment." We both ran back only to see Vlad snoring on the sofa while Dr.Wanda treats his foot that was shot. She gave us a disapointed look. "Okey Spike, why on earth did you shoot Vlad in the foot?" Spike points at himself and then says. "Why do you always think I'm the one shoting people? This time it was Ms.Trigger happy over here." Dr.Wanda's brown eyes start bugging out and look at me. "It was you...why? You have no idea what I've been through to knock him out" "How did you get him to sleep?" Spike asked. "Well he wouldn't hold still to get the needle in his arm...so I went to plan b which was hitting him in the head with a baseball bat." Spike smiles by that fact. I notice that there was a bat broken into two was laying on the floor next to the sofa. I look at my bare feet now. "I got bored, you can't blame me. We haven't gone searching for the cure for over a week. That means no bad guys chasing us, no shooting at them and me not getting better!" Dr.Wanda frowns. "well sorry Erika, but every thing is...peaceful. No one wants to fight anymore." My hands turn to fist. "Well that sucks." I mummbled. "Do you want to play a video game? I bet I could beat you this time." I grin at Spike. "Sure why not. Just hold on for a sec please?" He frowns. "Fine just make it quick." I smiled. I was thinking the samething. As fast as lighten I took my pistal and fired at his foot. He crys out in pain, jumping on the left side of the sofa next to the snoring Vlad. "You are going to get it when I get this bullet out of my foot!" I start laughing at them like I've gone mad. Yup spike was right, I lost the other half of my brain. Oh well! I don't care I'm having to much fun shooting their feet, I guess they'll have to replace the bad guys as my shooting targets.
He paced, a low growl rumbling in his chest soundlessly. Five steps, turn, five steps back, turn, start again. There literally was a rut in his carpet from walking this path repeatedly for days, weeks, months. His mom and Kit had conspired against him to stop him from fighting, so now if he so much as flicked a fly he was unable to go to the Den. Then a few months ago, someone punched him- he didn't fight back! - and he was grounded for it! The coaches and his school where thrilled. As part of the school and his agreement to let him travel, was for him to help out with the sports. But now he was reaching his peak of restlessness and the coaches were playing him all game every game, partially to win, partially to help Jack spend his pent up energy, and partially to get the thrill of seeing him full tilt. He went to punch the wall, but stopped himself right before touching it, unclenching his fist, stretching out his fingers, and regaining control.
The low growl in his chest turned to a roar, helplessness at his over powering desire to fight and the inability to do so. He started pacing again, frustration boiling his blood. There was nothing that he really wanted to do, his friends and family tried to help him think of something else, do something else. They suggested things, 'kidnapped' him and took him places, and did whatever they could, but nothing worked. His fists clenched and unclenched. A nock on the door brought him from a red haze.
"Hey there buddy." Kit. He'd headed over when Jack had started this free-fall, said he was just visiting but Jack knew it was to keep him in check. Now he was just testing the waters, brave soul. Jack let the low rumble become audible, glancing over his shoulder with a glare that had the intensity to melt steel. "Ok, ok." He steps in, holding something behind his back. "I've got something that will make you feel better."
Whipping out the gun he was holding, he shoots. A smile flashes across Jack's face, a thanks, and a taunt. Ducking, he steps to the side, then crouches, and finally leaps. Landing on Kit, they slide across the little space to the wall. Panting, Jack looked back at where he once stood. His smile then flickered.
"Now ..." he said as he stood. "How am I going to explain the bullet holes in my wall, through my window, and in my floor?" They swapped smiles.