F-Crew-Story-3

This is the third F-Crew story written by Zimra during round 21! There are a few mistakes in it, such as a couple dead people coming back to life, but I'll fix it later.

There is one question that has been asked many times throughout the ages. Where do ideas come from? How is it that they take shape? With so many Books, Movies and TV Shows, is it possible to come up with something original anymore? How long ago was the first original story wrote, and is it even possible to write one today? They always say that writers are the greatest thieves, but it is not always clear where they steal from.

Just for a second, imagine this: Could it be possible that, in an alternate dimension, a small hobbit actually did carry around a magical ring? Maybe, just maybe, that is where ideas come from. Other worlds. Images and visions seep through the dimensions and into our minds without us knowing it. Of course, some people are more susceptible to these signals than others. Take, for example, Artists, Authors and Musicians. Why is it that these people are so different from ourselves? Natural talent? Maybe.

Some people find it easier to believe in alternate worlds. Perhaps they are just covering up their own inadequacies with excuses, or perhaps they are onto something. When you consider some of the more far-out works of fiction in existence, it almost seems plausible. Or maybe, just maybe, this theory itself is just the basis for another novel?

The great scientist Cm believed all this to be true. The theory angered a lot of people, especially Christians, and their retribution was swift. Shortly after on a dark sunday morning he was shot in the head five times and his body was uncerimoniously dumped in a river. One week later, he was back, better than ever. He is still publishing a paper about his own apparent immortality, but he never seems to be able to finish it.

This is the story of F-Crew. Or, more appropriately speaking, one of the many F-Crews. Whether or not this is the real one is up to you to decide.

ETA - ???

Blizz woke up abrubtly. Something in his mind had caused him to rise, but he couldn't tell what. Words were resounding in his head, fading into nothing when he tried to focus on them. An elusive sentence hung just out of reach, a string of words that he couldn't quite comprehend.

'...is up to you to decide.'

He shook his head, trying to concentrate, and they vanished. He could remember nothing now and all that remained was a faint sense of deja vuu, as if he were experiencing something that had happend before.

'Must have been a stupid dream.' He growled out loud. His voice sounded robotic in his own ears; he still needed to get his vocal implants tuned a bit. 'Oh well, maybe I'll remember later.'

Blizz got out of bed and quickly tugged his clothes on. He headed straight for the kitchen and opened the fridge. Inside, in a neat little row, were around half a dozen cans of oil. Taking one out, he headed straight for the couch and sat down. He flicked on the TV and switched over to DVD mode.

'Hey!' A girl on the screen winked. She was scantily clad in a leather outfit that left very little to the imagination. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, almost touching the body of the man directly underneath her. 'How are ya doin'? I'm going to give you a time you'll never forget! Mmmmm, baby!'

The DVD was called 'Debbie does Blizzard', a short film he'd made on the computer. The 3D imaging was so good it was impossible to tell that Debbie wasn't actually real. Blizz loved the DVD and watched it frequently; for 15 minute periods 5 times a day. Truth be told, he hadn't had sex since he became a Cyborg, and didn't really feel like trying either. He'd lost the manual that came with his upgrades.

'I wish I knew how to work this thing.' He sighed while flicking at his metallic penis. It made a quiet ping but was otherwise unaffected.

He turned the volume up and took a swig from his oil can. The oil was his favourite brand and fit the occasion quite nicely. In big, bold letters it cheerily announced it's name: OILAGRA. Instantly his whole body felt alive and full of energy. Little bursts of electricity sparked across his chest and arms and hit the couch, creating small puffs of smoke. Unfortunately, his penis was still inert. Letting out another sigh, he took hold of his earlobe between his fingers and began to rub the red button there. It wasn't as good as masturbating, but it was close.

'Ooh, yeah, Debbie.' He moaned at the TV. 'Suck that ear bitch, fuck yeah. Get my circuits going!'

He rubbed his earlobe faster, periodically pinching it, letting out low robotic moans as he neared climax. The TV started to blurr and the lights dimmed, but still he kept rubbing. Suddenly the red button depressed under his fingers and he screamed in pleasure.

'FUCK ME!!!!' Blizz yelled. His body pulsed with light and energy and an invisible EMP field shot out from his body. He arced his back as the pleasure rolled over him. The circuits on his legs fizzled and burst but he didn't care; it felt too good. As his scream of pleasure died down, the lights went out, along with the rest of the power.

On the other side of the HQ, Grif growled angrily. The computer he'd been working on had just died, along with the lights and everything else electronic in the room. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cigar and lit up, carefully surveying his surroundings with the dim light his massive stogie created. Satisfied that no one else was sneaking up on him, he blew out a large cloud of smoke and smiled contentedly. There was nothing better than a cigar in a powercut.

'And with Blizz around, there's plenty of powercuts.' He quipped to no one in particular, then laughed out loud. Boy, he thought, I'm such a wit.

Grif was an enigmatic character. During an accident that he didn't like to talk about, he had aquired a pair of vertical scars that ran from his eyebrows to his cheeks. People liked to call him Scarecrow, due to his appearance. He detested the name though, and dealt with anyone who called him it. He preferred Grif. It was short, simple and very sweet. At least in his mind.

'hey,' a voice purred behind him, 'u shoudl not be smoke it bad for u'

'Beth?' He whirled around in the darkness. He could make out her figure before him and boy, what a figure. She was wearing only a silk nightie that left no part of her body unhinted. It wasn't that part that suprised Grif, though. He wanted to know how she'd snuck up on him. He was supposed to be a pro. The scars were proof. Scars made you a badass.

'i am here baby don worry ur hand some face,' She sidled closer to him and reached her hand up to his scars. 'what happend to u to make u liek this?'

'Don't touch me there!' He roared, slapping away her hand.

She flinched and backed away slightly. Instantly Grif regretted his reaction. Here was a beautiful and scantily dressed woman, and he was pushing her away. He took a step towards her and took her hand in his.

'may i touch them?' Beth asked. Of the little Grif could see of her eyes, they were swimming with emotion. 'i hav not touched a man in so long. plz be my first.'

'You may touch them.' He told her.

As her fingers delicately traced his scars, Grif couldn't help but be smug. Scars were women magnets, there was no doubt about it. If he got a couple more then he could start his own harem. That would be nice.

'they r so soft i lov cock,' She whispered.

'Thank-' He caught his sentence halfway. 'What? Did you just say you love cock?'

'wat? no i didn i said i lov them, ur scars. u have cock on the brain.' Beth flushed embarassedly as she tried to cover her freudian slip. 'u r always pickin on Grif.'

'What?' Grif was even more confused now.

'nm u don know I don know wat u r saying.' She turned her back on him and walked off.

Grif stood there in shock. He was totally confused. What in the living hell had she just said? It had made no sense to him at all. Did anyone understand a word she said? He was going to have to do something about it. A couple of ideas began to form in his head already. Grif had a pretty quick mind and in situations like this it really stood out. Within minutes he had the basis of a design already sketched out in his head.

'This should work...' He muttered to himself.

As he continued to think, there was a brief clicking sound followed by a low hum. Power returned to the HQ, flooding the room with light. The computer he'd been working on blinked to life and Grif turned to it, ready to start his Beth-Translator program. He typed fast and furiously and within half an hour he'd almost finished. As he prepared to enter the last few lines of code, a hand tapped him on the shoulder.

'Yeah?' Grif asked. He knew it was Lionne, he'd already heard him coming.

'Come with me, there's a meeting on. Didn't you hear the announcement?'

'No.' Grif lied. He'd been so enthralled with his new project he'd ignored it.

'Tbfh Grif, that's not fucking good enough. First you piss off Beth, now this.'

'What did you say about Beth?' Grif interrupted him.

'You pissed her off somehow. I don't know what you did, but it's not good. She's been crying for the past half hour.'

'Shit.' Grif scratched at his scars. Suddenly, they didn't feel so badass anymore.

'The whole of F-Crew are pretty angry at you. We all want to fuck Beth, you know, and if you piss her off then she's not going to put out for at least a day. Tbfh, I expected more from you.'

'I'll deal with it, don't worry. Just give me 10 minutes and I can fix it all.'

Lionne sighed and shrugged his shoulders. 'Just hurry up and get to the meeting.

ETA - ??? - F-Crew Briefing Room

The room was packed. Not a single soul in the HQ, apart from Grif, was absent. This was big news and they all knew it. Recently, the Alliance had been performing very poorly. They all knew that something had to be done, and the members suspected that this meeting would present a solution. They weren't to be dissapointed.

'Behold!' An angelic voice cried. 'It is I, Cm!'

Hidden panels in the walls rotated, revealing row upon row of giant speakers. Heavenly music poured out of them, filling the room from end to end. The lights dimmed abrubtly and spotlights whirled to face the roof, revealing the almighty Cm. He had a giant pair of Angel wings tacked onto his back, and was descending slowly via the use of invisible wires.

'Our lord!' The audience cried in unison.

Cm nodded to them and continued his descent. Everyone held their breath as his feet touched the ground, then flinched as they heard his invisible wire unclip. Fortunately for them, it had not gotten tangled this time, and nobody lost an eye. Cm was none too pleased about this. Without some form of random violence, his entrance wasn't quite as grand as he'd like.

'You!' Cm's voice boomed out with the aid of an almost invisible microphone. 'Kalos!'

'Y-yes, sir?' Kalos whimpered, walking up to the foot of the stage. 'What would you have me do?'

'Select a person for me.'

'Why?' Kalos asked timidly.

'JUST DO IT!' Cm yelled at the top of his lungs.

Everyone took a step backwards in terror. Suddenly, all doors to the room slammed shut and locked. The heavenly music stopped, replaced instead by a rather sinister sounding violin. Kalos shook with terror and turned to face the audience. He lifted his hand and held out a shakey finger. Everyone in the path of his outstretched digit shrank back in fear and tried to run away. Kalos stifled a laugh. This was actually pretty cool.

'HURRY UP!' Cm's terrifieing voice called from behind him.

Kalos gulped and then glanced quickly through the audience. Who to pick? Lionne? Nope. Zimra? Maybe. Fatrick? Priceless.

'Fatrick!' Kalos turned to Cm and beamed proudly. 'I choose Fatrick.'

'Very well.' Cm smiled. 'You two shall now fight to the death.'

'Wait!' Kalos suddenly stopped smiling. 'That's not faaaair! He's bigger than I am! How could you do this to me? What did I ever do to you? Why the hell do I always get all of the abuse here? I'm just a nondescript quiet guy who doesn't want to cause any trouble!'

While Kalos was busy whining, Fatrick pressed his advantage. He took a running leap at Kalos and kicked him square in the back. Kalos let out a groan of pain as he slammed into the ground and rolled over three times. He tried to get to his feet but Fatrick was already on top of him.

'Noooo!' Kalos cried. 'Don't do it, please! I just want to be friends with everyone! Help! Someone! Zimra! Zimra!'

'Shut up!' Fatrick growled angrily. 'It's either you or me, mother fucker. I'm not going to have a quick death. I deserve to last more than a few paragraphs!'

'Good luck with that.' Kalos smirked. His voice was suddenly deeper now and had cold edge to it. With one swift movement, Kalos pushed himself to his feet, knocking Fatrick to the ground.

'What the heck?' Fatrick groaned as he hit the ground.

'You really think I'm that stupid? Heh.' Kalos drew a pistol and pointed it down at Fatrick. 'Ever heard of giving your opponent a false sense of security? No? Well, that's why you're dead and I'm alive. Oh, and I'm a girl. Dumbass.'

'You're a girl?'

Kalos squeezed the trigger.

BANG

Fatricks head burst like a ripe watermelon hit with a baseball bat. Blood sprayed and brain flew, splattering the faces of anyone unlucky enough to be too close. A crimson puddle spread across the room as blood oozed from the remains of Fatrick's head.

'Jesus...' Someone in the crowd whispered. 'Kalos is a girl?'

'SILENCE!' Cm shouted.

'I didn't know Kalos was a girl.' They continued whispering.

'Yeah, me either.' Another person added.

Cm growled. This wasn't good. His plan hadn't worked. Instead of everyone fearing him, they were now all interested in Kalos. Was he really a girl? He didn't sound like one. Cm shook his head to clear his thoughts. Time for plan B. He hit a button concealed in the podium before him.

'Crap!' Kalos cried as the floor opened up beneath him/her. 'You bastard! I'll get yoooooouuuu!'

Cm grinned smugly as Kalos' voice faded off. Once only a quiet echo remained, he faced the crowd again. They were all terrified. If Cm would kill a girl, one in F-Crew of all places, then he was capable of anything. Now they would listen to every word he said.

'Now that I have your attention,' Cm began, 'I have started to notice that our Alliance is declining. We aren't attacking enough or sending defence. I don't know why and I don't care, but frankly, I've had enough of it. We need to help each other to become a strong Alliance. F-Crew is all about team work. Does anyone disagree with me?'

Nobody did.

'Good. As it just so happens, I've come up with a plan to revitalize F-Crew. Tomorrow we are going to hold an Open Day. What this means is we're going to open up the HQ to anyone who wants to come along and look. I've already organised a temporary one day NAP with all of the other Alliances to accomodate this.' Cm paused for a breath, then continued, 'I want you all to be on your best behaviour. Is that clear?'

They nodded.

'Good. Now I'm off to cook. If you have any questions, please direct them to Lionne.' With that said, Cm made a hasty exit.

'Shit!' This came from Carld. 'We can't do this! If we have more members I won't stand a chance in hell of getting a DP!'

'Shut up, Carld. If we have more members I'l finally find someone to team up with my CO fleet.' Rob countered.

'Fuck your CO fleet. I need my DP or I'll fail the TOTW.'

Rob paused for a moment to ingest all the acronyms. 'Stick your TOTW up your ass. My CO fleet is more important than your shitty DP's.'

'What did you just tell me to do?'

'Stick. Your. DP. Up. Your. Ass.'

'Why you mother fucker!'

Carld and Rob charged at each other, fists flailing like windmills. Rob landed the first hit, smacking Calrd on his left cheek. Carld stumbled backwards but quickly recovered his balance and returned to the offensive. Rob took a hit to his nose which broke with an audible crunch. The two of them backed up, circling each other warily.

'You are going to get it now.' Rob snorted out a gout of blood which splashed onto Carlds shoes.

'Hey, my Sketchers!'

'Break it up you two!' Lionne barged in between them. 'There's a time and a place for everything.'

Rob tried to push past Lionne. 'Carld, you're dead to me. You hear me? DEAD TO ME!'

'We'll settle this shortly.' Carld grinned cockily. 'Nobody fucks with my Sketchers and lives.'

The two of them left the room, each by a different door. Lionne waited patiently for the sound of fighting outside, but didn't hear it. Perhaps the two of them were really going to wait until after the Open Day to fight it out.

'Well...' Lionne turned to face everyone. 'I only have one comment to make on this whole debacle. Zimra, don't fuck this up.'

'Heh.' Zimra grinned. 'Don't worry. I'll be good. When was the last time I did something stupid?'

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realised his mistake. Everyone in the room suddenly thought back to a conversation held 15 minutes ago, before Cm had arrived.

'Hah!' Zimra let out a loud laugh. 'Some idiot defended me and lost all his ships. Oh wow, the DC who covered that call should be shot. I wouldn't ever do a fuck up like that, I've got a perfect streak.'

'Can we see the battle report, Zim?' Puss nudged his shoulder.

'Sure.' He pulled out a brightly coloured piece of paper from his pocket. It was almost entirely transparent and covered in shifting symbols. 'Here it is.'

She took it from him and read it over. Suddenly a wide grin spread across her face, which she quickly tried to conceal. Puss handed the report to the person next to her, and looked back at Zimra again, trying to keep her face straight.

'Awesome Zim.' She snickered.

'What's so funny?'

'Nothing.' She let out a little laugh.

'What the hell are you laughing about?' He growled, getting irritated.

'Well, you know the ships that died?'

'Yeah?'

'They were steal ships.'

'Shit.'

Everyone in the room started to laugh.

'Shit!' Zimra cried, looking around wildly for a way out. He knew running wouldn't save him the embarassment, but he wanted to try anyway. 'Fuck you! Fuck you all!'

Zimra stared angrily at Lionne. 'Fuck you.'

'Tbfh Zim, I never thought you were very smart anyway. How about you just stay in your room tomorrow, k?'

'I'll get you. I'll get all of you.' He threatened. 'Nobody makes a fool of Lord Scoogums.'

'Lord Whogums?'

Lionnes question fell on deaf ears. Zimra had already left the room.

ETA 10 - Somewhere in the HQ

Beth walked along down the corridor with her head slumped. Grif had hurt her feelings and she didn't like that. She wanted everyone to love her and be her friend. Was that too much to ask? There was more to it than that, though. She wanted a man, and Grif was one hell of a man. Oooh, she thought, those scars are so hot. How I would love to make him my little Scarecrow. He can stick his straw in me any day...

'Beth!'

She felt her heart swell at the mention of her name and turned round excitedly. Had Grif come after her to claim her heart? Would he be the man to devote his love to her? Was this what she had been waiting for her entire life? Would his massive dick be hers tonight?

'oh,' She murmured, 'it's only imp.'

Imp, also known as Imperial, was a powerful wizard. How exactly he had come across his powers, nobody was sure, but it probably had something to do with his secret laboratory. He spent hours every day in there performing experiments on creatures of every variety. It was a well known fact that he also had a few women locked in there, although for what purpose no one was quite sure. He liked to keep to himself.

'Beth!' Imperial gasped as he caught up with her. 'I've been looking for you for ten minutes already! I just got a break from a project I'm working on and wanted to talk to you about something.'

'whta is it?'

'Well, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time now. You see, Beth, I can't stop thinking about you. I dream of you every night and you are the first thing I think of in the morning. All day long you are in my thoughts. I think that I lo-'

'Beth!' Another voice yelled

'just wait a sec imp.' She turned to the face the newcomer. Suddenly her heart started beating twice as fast. It was Grif! He had come for her! 'grif omg u r here!'

'Hey Beth!' Grif stopped up short of her and smiled. 'I made something for you.'

'u did? thast so sweet of u thank u so much u r so good to me.' She smiled happily, her heart touched.

'Here, it's a necklace. Put it on.' He held up the 'Necklace'.

In reality, it looked nothing like a necklace. It was a bunch of wires connected to a box with what looked like a speaker attached to it. Beth, of course, didn't care. She was so happy that somebody had made a gift for her. She took it from Grifs hand and placed it round her neck.

'thank u Grif I am so happy for present.'

Grif pressed a button. A red light on the 'Necklace' flared and a robotic voice sounded from the speaker: 'Thanks baby, god fuck me I am so happy you gave me this. I'd fuck you right now if you were naked.'

'Wow!' Grif blinked in suprise. 'That worked better than I thought it would.'

Imperial stared wide-eyed with shock. 'Beth...?' He asked.

'wat is goin on omg wat happend thsi is wreid i dun know what happen grif what did u do bad boy u are goin to get it don listen imp plz it is for ur own good omg.'

The 'Necklace' translated: 'I am confused. Grif, why did you do this? Grif I am going to give you some idle threats I will never follow through on. Fuck off Imperial I am too confused to answer you right now. Oh God I am confused.'

'Switch the damn thing off!' Imperial rounded on Grif. 'What the hell is it?'

'It's my Beth-Translator. It tells us what she's really trying to say.'

'Lies!' Imperial hissed. 'Beth, that is a devil device. He's trying to kill you! Take it off now and listen to me. I love you, Beth, that is what I wanted to tell you. I love you! Now take off the necklace!'

'omg,' Beth sobbed, 'wat is going on imp dont say things u don't mean grif i hate u take this off now.'

Translation: 'Wow, this is pretty accurate. Imp, fuck off, I'm not interested in you. Grif, I love you, give me your giant Scarecrow cock right now.'

Imperial gasped in shock. How could the wonderful, beautiful woman he loved say things like that? It wasn't possible. It couldn't be real. His whole world seemed to collapse around him. She would never love him, now. He would never hold her in his arms or whisper tender words into her ear. This couldn't happen. It wasn't allowed. There was no way.

'You fucking BASTARD!' Imperial roared, throwing his arms and head back. Bolts of electricity curled around his body, hitting every nearby surface. Power radiated from him, throwing Beth and Grif back against the wall. 'I... won't... let... YOU GET AWAY WITH THIIIISSSS!!!!'

'Holy shit!' Grif cried, 'Is he going Super Saiyan?'

Imperial suddenly leaned forwards, shifting his weight onto his legs and holding his arms out loosely. It was a sterotypical spell-casting stance.

'You shouldn't have fucked with me. I can cast level nine spells.' Imperial flicked his hair out of his eyes with one hand while he talked. 'And some that the player-party can't even cast.'

'I don't give a shit.' Grif lit up a stogie. 'You can't beat the Scarecrow. Fate always conspires to make me survive every single possible situation. Do you really think a level 9 spell can beat my plot armor? Don't make me laugh, Imperial.'

'We'll see about that.'

Imperial's took a step back and pointed his hands towards Grif with his palms splayed outwards. He began to mutter a series of complex sounding words, and moved his fingers in increasingly intricate patterns. Without warning, a bright glowing globe shot out of his hands and headed towards Grif.

Grif quickly drew his pistol and pointed it at the roof. He opened fire, shooting a wide circle around his head. Imperial blinked in confusion. What was Grif up to?

The question was answered for him a second later. Grif jumped backwards just as a circular section of the roof gave way. Standing on top of it was Lilleman. The glowing globe hurtled through the air on a direct course for Grif, although now Lilleman blocked it's passage. Before he could utter a cry, the globe hit his body, and seemed to sink right through his flesh.

'Oh god no!' Imperial managed to shout.

Lillemans body glowed brightly for a second as he let out a shriek of pure terror. What happend next was an awful sight to behold. First Lillemans fingers seemed to turn to dust, then his arms and the rest of his body. Within seconds the remains of Lilleman had been sucked up into the Air Conditioning system, never to be seen again.

'I told you.' Grif grinned cockily. 'I have plot armor.'

Imperial let out a roar and pointed his hands at Grif again. Bang! A bright flash of white light momentarily blinded Grif and he stumbled backwards. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision and a terrible sight awaited him. A huge fireball was screaming down the corridor towards him. Thinking quickly, Grif pointed his pistol at the far wall and fired. It was a lucky shot; he hit the main water vent.

With a great roar a huge pillar of water burst out of the wall, sending broken concrete slabs in all directions. One of them hit Imperial on the head, knocking him out cold. Just as the fireball was about to incinerate Grif, the water collided with it. Burning heat met freezing water with a horrendous hissing sound. The two forces fought each other with vigour. Water turned to steam, filling the corridor with a light mist.

But it was no real contest. The fireball was pushed off course, directly into the wall, and quicky extinguished by the jet of water before it could detonate. All that was left was a rather large scorch mark.

'Don't fuck with the Scarecrow.' Grif grinned. Then he turned to Beth. 'Someone else can clean up this mess, right? We've got better things to do.'

She nodded, forgetting all about the necklace he had placed on her, and followed him dumbstruck down the corridor. How could one person be so unbeliveably lucky?

ETA 5 - Outer Space

Space. Empty black nothingness that stretched endlessly in all directions. It wasn't really a fun place to be in. Regardless, many species liked to travel across it's vast distances and for many different reasons. Where they in search for treasure, maybe? A planet full of just women? Or maybe they were looking for revenge.

Anima sat back in his seat and smiled. Soon he would have what he wanted. Imperial was going to die by his hands tomorrow. He had heard about the F-Crew Open Day recently and had already set his plan into action. With a universal NAP declared, F-Crew wouldn't be caring much about their defences. It was the perfect time to strike. Imperial would pay for what he did. Recently, Anima had become a bounty hunter. After being kicked out of F-Crew, he'd desperately needed the cash to pay for a place to live. Nowadays he spent most of his time cruising the cosmos, looking for marks to kill. It worked out pretty well, and he'd even managed to buy his own Battleship with the profits he made. Along with his two trusty sidekicks, he was basically unstoppable. No mark was too big for him to take down.

Anima was the captain of the Hissy Fit, his own personal Battleship. It was unrivalled by any other ship in the Universe, apart from Zimra's CFS, and had one of the most skilled captains to boot. Also, the whole thing was almost entirely automated, which made it a lot easier to handle in combat. In the cargo hold the Hissy Fit stored another two ships. These were fast fighter jets, owned by his only other crew members.

'Status report?' Anima turned to face his subordinates.

'Nothing much interesting right now.' Ceadrath reported.

'How about long distance scans?'

'Nothing to report, Captain.' Azarak replied.

Anima paused for a second and placed his finger on his lips. 'I'm sorry, Azarak, who are you again? I keep forgetting.'

'I'm Zimras identical twin brother? I look just like him? I fought with F-Crew 6 months ago? Ring any bells?'

'Shit!' Anima drew his pistol and pointed it at Azaraks forhead. 'Zimra's twin? Get off my fucking ship!'

'Put the gun down, Captain.' Azarak sighed. 'You do this every time you ask me who I am.

'Right.' Anima hesitated for a second, then lowered the gun. 'Sorry.'

'You're an idiot.' Ceadrath quipped. 'I should be the Captain.'

'We've had this discussion before, Cead. I paid for the ship, remember?'

'I paid for your mum and that doesn't mean I own her.'

Anima glared at Ceadrath. Invisible lightning seemed to spark between the two of them, ready to burst out at any given second. Azarak quickly walked between them and laid a hand on both of their shoulders.

'Let's not fight, okay?' Azarak said in a calm voice. 'We're not F-Crew. So there will be no senseless killings and no random violence. We're sensible characters.'

'Right.' Both of them noded in agreement.

Azarak turned his back on them and walked out the room quickly. The second he saw his chance, Ceadrath punched Anima's arm and ran out the door with a mocking laugh. Anima grabbed his arm and winced it pain; it really stung!

'Azzzieeee!' Anima yelled. 'Ceeadd hit meeeee!'

Azarak didn't reply.

Anima stifled his tears and went to sit in the corner, whimpering softly to himself. Ceadrath was such a bully! Why, he thought, I oughta show him what I'm made of! But.. He's so strong... But I need to make my parents proud! I have to do it!

Anima lazily drifted to sleep as he dreamed of the day he would make his parents so very proud of him.

ETA 2 - F-Crew HQ, Beth's room

Dripping with sweat, Grif lit up a stogie and breathed in deeply, enjoying the taste of his rare Cuban cigar. They were hard to find these days, especially since the earth had been destroyed ten years ago. Grif was a bit sore about that, he had to admit. He still remembered the day where the planet had split in two. That awful day were his face had been scarred...

'omg u r so good in bed' Beth purred beside him, pulling him from his reverie. Her necklace was discarded beside her, so she could talk freely now. 'omg wow u r so good.'

'I know.' Grif grinned at her. 'You sure you can keep going? I could go on all night.'

'yes plz don't stop.'

Grif leaned towards her and reached out his hand to grab... A pawn. He moved the pawn on the chess board and grinned in triumph. Check mate!

'omg,' She gushed, 'u are so good at chess in bed.'

'You put up a pretty good fight, Beth.' Grif winked at her. 'For a second there I thought I was going to lose. You did a pretty good move with the knight and the bishop.'

'how many prawns is a bishop agen i forgot, an what does the hores do.'

'Um, let's do something else, okay?'

She looked up at him suddenly, sensing the change in his tone. She couldn't help but admire his body, he was incredibly sexy. Grif could say the same thing about her, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid his eyes on, and had a set of boobs to match, too. Without warning a feeling suddenly struck Grif. Deep in his loins, a longing suddenly sprouted. One he hadn't felt in ten years...

'wat do u want to do grif r u okay u look strange wat is wrong tell me plz'

As he stared into her eyes and listened to her voice, his lust overtook his common sense. In one swift movement he lunged at her, grabbing her arms and pinning them down, and leaned down to kiss her. She twisted her head to the side, dodging at the last second, and he ended up with a mouthful of cushion. With what must have been all of her strength, Beth hurled Grif off of herself and into the wall.

'omg grif i trusted u! u tried to rape me u r like all of them omg i haet u!'

'Wait!' He stammered. 'I didn't mean to do it! I don't know what happend, you have to believe me!'

'fuck u!' She swore uncharacteristically and, grabbing a dressing gown to pull over herself, left the room, slamming the door behind her.

'Shit.'

The rumour spread through F-Crew like wildfire. Grif had tried to rape Beth! It was the story of the day and soon everybody had heard it. But, like most stories, it was subject to change. Like a huge game of chinese whispers, the tale changed with each telling. First Grif had tried to rape Beth, then he had raped Beth, and then he had just plain had sex with her. This was the worst thing imaginable! Grif having consensual sex with Beth? It was impossible! Now nobody else could have her! Within less than 2 hours, Grif was now the most wanted man in the universe. Everybody who had wanted to fuck Beth now wanted to kill him. Messages were quickly sent out to all the bounty hunters of the universe. A reward of 10,000,000 of each Res was being offered. That was a sum too good to pass up. People would do anything for that kind of money...

Scarecrow must die!

ETA 1 - F-Crew, Sakatos room

Sakato yawned. TV was boring, there was nothing good on apart from a re-run of 'Debbie does Blizzard', and that had gotten old fifty times ago. Plus, he didn't really like watching a cyborg have sex. Debbie was really, really hot, though, so that made up for it. Pity she never answered his calls. It was almost like she didn't exist. But that was ludicrous! Here she was, on the screen, having sex with Blizzard of all people. He wasn't even good looking for fucks sake, why does he get all the luck?

He flicked over to another channel lazily. Suddenly his eyes flew wide.

'Holy shit!' Sakato gasped. 'It's Nika!'

'Weelcome!' Nika grinned and winked at the camera. 'To Nika's gay porn dungeon, hehe! Today we're going to be exploring the anal train. All you need to do is set up a train track round your room, then put the end of the tracks at the entrance to your anus. You got that? Then put the train on the tracks, and switch on the power!'

Sakato stared, he couldn't help it, he was morbidly fascinated. The toy train blew out a little puff of steam and sped along the tiny tracks, heading towards Nika's ass. Sakato tried to close his eyes as the train entered the 'tunnel' but he was unable to. There was a soft, squishy sound as the trains funnel strained for a second before it snapped. Then it was in!

'Choo choo!' Nika groaned, pulling on an invisible horn.

'Gaaaah!' Sakato flicked the TV off and leapt to his feet.'Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck!'

He ran to the bathroom and switched on the shower hurriedly. He jumped inside, stripped all his clothes off and began to wash himself. He scrubbed harder and harder until his skin started to peel off, trying to get rid of the dirty feeling that was prevading over his entire body. He didn't realise how hard he was scrubbing himself; his arm had already started to bleed.

• CRASH*

Sakato stopped scrubbing. What the hell was that noise? He jumped out of the shower and pulled on his clothes while he was still wet. Was someone inside the room? He lifted a baseball bat he left behind the toilet for just such an ocassion, and gently nudged the bathroom door open with it. Nothing seemed out of place so far. He quietly stepped into the living room and looked around.

'Hey! My TV!' Sakato gasped.

His TV was flat on it's side, the screen smashed to pieces. Stranger than that, though, was a shimmering purple oval on top of it. Sakato squinted to try and make sense of what he was seeing, but it seemed to distort his vision. He could just make out a glimpse of what seemed to be a city through the oval-shape before it blinked out of existence. Sakato scrunched his eyes up and shook his head. What the fuck was that?

'Hey.' A voice to his right sounded.

Sakato turned around and came face to face with... Sakato.

'Huh.' Sakato sounded drunk, he was so confused that he couldn't think straight anymore. 'I didn't put a mirror here. What the hell is going on?'

'I'm not your mirror-image.' Sakato2 walked closer to him. 'I'm you. And stop hiding it, you're obviously a homosexual. Come out of the closet!'

'How can you be me? What's going on?' Sakato paused for a second, then growled. 'And I'm not fucking gay! Who the hell are you damn it? Fucking queer!'

'I'm you, Sakato, from another dimension.'

'Heh,' Sakato couldn't help but snicker. 'That's funny. You're Zim, right, in a costume? Nice. Very, very nice. Who made it for you?'

'No. I am you. You see, Sakato, there are hundreds of you in different dimensions. Well, there used to be, until I killed them all. Now I've come for you.'

'What the fuck are you talking about?' Sakatos grip tightened on the baseball bat.

'I guess I shall entertain you. It's always more amusing to see the look on 'my' face before I kill 'myself'. You see, there are many different copies of everyone in different

dimensions. However, the less copies there are, the more powerful the individuals become.'

'That really doesn't make any logical sense.'

'Shut up. I've been doing this for fifteen years, I know what I'm talking about. You see, Sakato, there are only five of us left now. Tell me, have you felt yourself growing stronger lately?'

Sakato's eyes widened with shock and he looked at his bloody arm. He had been scrubbing it in the shower, not too hard, but it looked like it had been ripped to shreds. Then there was that time last month where he'd broken Wakeys wrist in an arm wrestle.

'Jesus christ...' Sakato gasped. 'You're telling the truth.'

'Yes I am. And now, you must die.' Sakato2 raised his arm, revealing a pistol he'd been concealing.

Abrubtly, a robotic moan resounding throughout the HQ. 'Debbie does Blizzard' had reached it's climax and so, apparently had Blizz himself. The lights died a second later and Sakato took his chance. He ducked just as a gunshot sounded, almost defeaning him, and swung the baseball bat with all his might. It hit it's mark; there was a horrible crunching sound followed by a scream of pain. Satisfied, Sakato ran towards the doorway. He knew the room like the back of his hand and could navigate it even in the dark.

'Ugh...' Sakato2 groaned in obvious pain. 'My... My groin...'

As he reached the door, Sakato suddenly had a change of heart. He stood there waiting, baseball bat in hand, for the power to come back on. A few seconds later it did, and the lights blinked on with vigour as if they were happy to be alive. Sakato risked a glance at Sakato2. The poor man was curled up in the foetal position, hands between his legs, biting his lips so hard that blood was pouring out of them. The baseball bat had obviously obliterated his testicles and quite possibly shattered his pelvis. Sakato2 wasn't going to be moving anytime soon.

'So,' Sakato said nonchalantly as he walked up to Sakato2, 'You said that each time one of us dies, the rest become more powerful?'

'No...' He groaned. 'I made it all up, I'm really Zim in a costume. Don't hurt me anymore, please... Oh god... My... My groin...

'So you are Zimra? Heh, all the more reason to do this then.'

Sakato raised the baseball bat and swung it down with all his force on Sakato2's head. His head exploded almost instantly, spraying blood all over Sakato and the rest of the room. Scarlet liquid jetted from his neck, drenching the rather expensive carpet in seconds.

'Hmm, I don't feel any stronger.' Sakato clenched his fists experimentally and the handle of the baseball bat splintered. 'Okay, maybe I do.'

With a manic laugh, Sakato left his room. Chances are the other Sakatos would be looking for him, and he didn't want to fight them in such closed quarters. The massive crowds of Open Day would be the perfect battle field...

ETA 0 - Outer Space

Ceadrath stared at the screen in amazement. 'Holy crap! 10,000,000 Res?'

'Where?' Anima shuffled up next to him and peeked at the monitor. 'Holy crap. Do you know what I could do with that kind of money?

'You?' Ceadrath raised an eyebrow. 'Do you mean we?'

'Er, yeah.' Anima took a step backwards and rubbed his still sore arm.

'Good.' He smiled. 'I suggest a change of plans. We can hold back on your revenge of Imperial for now while we capture Scarecrow, whoever the hell he is. That is far too much money to pass up.'

'But,' Anima flared with indignity, 'Imperial made me quit F-Crew! We have to kill him! He's such a fucking jackass, god, Cead, can't you see that?'

'It's a lot of money, Anima.'

'My pride is worth more than 10,000,000 Res. We're going after Imperial.'

'Really?' Ceadrath drew his gun and pointed it at Anima's head. 'Now we come to a quandry. Is your pride worth more than your life, dear Anima?

Azarak, who had been quiet up until now, slapped the gun out of Ceadraths hand. 'Cead, save your fighting for later. We can do without the uneccesarry violence, okay?'

'Azzie...'

'Look, I'm tired of people drawing guns on each other all the time. It's so unoriginal. Let's just keep a level head, okay? That way we'll all live through this. Remember, we don't know how to pilot this ship without Anima, so killing him won't do you any good.'

'You've got a point there.'

'And,' Azarak continued reasonably, 'If you bothered to think for more than 5 seconds, you'd realise that this Scarecrow and Imperial are in the same place. Knowing Imperial, he won't be able to pass up the chance for so much Res either. So it's simple, we'll kill two birds with one stone.'

Ceadrath and Anima stared in shock. It was so simple. They were incredibly lucky to have Azarak on board; he was probably the only level headed person in the entire universe, and he was on their side too. How lucky could they get?

'Now, I've got a plan.' Azarak motioned for them to come closer. 'This is what we'll do....'

ETA 0 - Imperials Lab

Imperial growled angrily. How dare they throw him out of F-Crew? After his little debacle with Grif, they'd thrown Imperials unconcious body into an escape pod. Fortunately for him, he'd regained conciousness just before it had launched and had made his way back into the HQ. Now he was in his laboratory, preparing for the day to come. Nothing was going to stop him getting his revenge on Beth and F-Crew. No one had ever treated him with the respect he deserved, and this was judgement day.

He had loved Beth with all his heart, and she had turned him down. Now F-Crew, his source of power, had tried to get rid of him too. This was not good. Those were the two things he desired most in life, love and power. Now he had none of them. At least, not right now...

'I'll show them all.' Imperial said coldly. He reached for a blowtorch and flicked it on, aiming the tool at what looked like a toaster. 'Nobody messes with Jon Irenic- Er, Imperial.' Imperial had changed drastically in appearance in the last few hours. His face was dark grey and deeply veined, and his face wore a cold, disdainful expression. Apparently his ears had been surgically removed, and a skullcap covered the back of his head. How he heard anything was up to debate, but it probably had to do with the metal-ish contrapions where his ears used to be.

'Life... is strength.' He muttered to himself. 'That is not to be contested; it seems logical enough. You live; you affect your world.'

Imperial dropped the blowtorch and walked over to a cage in the corner of his laboratory. Inside was a woman. The second she saw him, she let out a screech. Ignoring her cries, Imperial pulled a lever. Out of the wall, a giant spike slid out and smashed through her head, killing her instantly.

Imperial smiled. 'This woman had a power, of a sort. She lost her parents to plague, her husband to war, but she persevered. She was well respected, her farm was prosperous and her children were well fed. And now she's dead.'

With that said, he turned back to the toaster. Within a few minutes he was done, and his plan was almost completed...

ETA 0 - F-Crew Docking Bay

The Open Day had begun! Hordes of people swarmed through the docking bay, filling almost every available space. Every second more dropships arrived, bringing even more potential Alliance members to the HQ. Cm had never expected this many people, but it was a good thing. Although they were short staffed, they still managed to keep all of the guests entertained. Among some of the more unknown guests, there were a few high-brow parties too. To name a few, there was a delegation of Wolfpack members who had come to view the inner workings of F-Crew. They kept their distance from everyone else, though, and didn't really look like they were enjoying themselves. It was no wonder, Entropy had been sent to keep them company.

'So, what's Wolfpack like?' Entropy asked them. He was hopping up and down, full of excitement. Maybe if he impressed them, they'd let him join!

'Eh, better than this shit hole.' One of the WP delegates replied. 'F-Crew is full of douche bags. We'd never let any of them into our alliance.'

'What about Cead...' Another delegate whispered.

'He quit, remember? He's a bounty hunter now. If we see him, we're ordered to kill him on sight.'

Entropy glared at them, annoyed that he'd lost their attention. He decided to try something new, and pulled out a couple of balls. Within seconds he was juggling them happily, flashing a wide grin at the Wolfpack members. This was sure to impress them!

'What the hell are you doing?' One of them asked.

'Juggling!'

'Why?'

'Isn't it cool?' Entropy beamed.

All fifty of them pulled out a gun and pointed it at Entropy. He dropped his balls and held his hands up.

'Don't shoot, I was just messing around!' He whimpered.

'You're a fucking dick head, Entropy. Why did they send a jackass like you to escort us anyway?' Fifty guns cocked simultaneously. They were less than impressed.

'BOYZ!!' Entropy yelled.

Out of nowhere, over one hundred armed men emerged from the crowd. They were holding an assortment of weapons, mainly for dealing with anti-queer and anti-metro, but most of them would still kill any regular person. At their head was Skrittak. He had his arm around one of the younger Boyz and was holding them suspiciously close to his crotch. The WP delegates glanced around nervously, then holstered their pistols.

'We were just fucking with you, Entropy. You passed the test!'

'What?' He asked, calling his Boyz off with a hand signal. 'What test?'

'Welcome to Wolf Pack!'

'Sweet!'

'Fucking dumbass.' One of them whispered near the back. 'I give him twenty minutes at most.'

Meanwhile, on the other side of the docking bay, GiR was greeting people to his stall. Zimra was standing beside him, helping to call over potential alliance members. Nobody really wanted to come over, but ocassionaly a couple wandered up to see what was going on.

'Welcome!' GiR threw his arms out wide and shouted, 'To ZimGiR's Russian Roulette! Fifty pounds to play and the prize is a Battleship! How could you refuse that?'

'Come one come all!' Zimra yelled, 'I'll also throw away a nubile young girl!'

This drew a lot of peoples attention. Instantly the stall was swarmed with people. They all peered over to the back, trying to see where the girl was. Behind Zimra, all trussed up like a turkey, was Kalos. He'd found her in the garbage bay, although he refused to tell anyone why he had been down there. Apparently, Cm's death chute just led down there. With the help of a friendly robot, he'd helped pull her to safety before the garbage crushers had killed both of them.

'I'll play.' One brave man volunteered. He slid fifty pounds over the counter. 'That Kalos doesn't really sound like a girl, but I'm willing to believe you.'

'Sound? She hasn't even spoken.' Zimra sounded perplexed.

'I know, but it's hard to see her. Don't ask me why.'

They all stared at Kalos and nodded in agreement. It was like they were on IRC chat, and could only read instead of see anything. It was hard to figure out what someones sex was just from typing. But this was real life! It shouldn't be that hard!

'Anyway. Do you want to fire first?' Zimra took the revolver from GiR who gave him a sly wink. The man had been paying close attention, and noticed the little display. 'I'll shoot first, thanks. It's bad joss to have a gun pointed at you.'

'Then why are you playing this?' Zimra asked as he handed over the gun.

'Because I'm going to win.' Without a seconds delay he pulled the trigger...

• CLICK*

'Shit!' Zim cried in teror.

The crowd suddenly surged forwards. Everyone was interested now, they wanted to know what was going to happen. A couple of F-Crew regulars appeared and started chanting for Zimra's death. Soon the cry was taken up by the whole room. It was like a mexican wave, albeit a verbal one. 'Die Zimra! Die Zimra!'

'Jeez,' Zimra smiled lopsidedly, 'Can you feel the love?'

He pointed the pistol at the mans head and squinted, taking his time. His finger slowly tightened, pressing harder against the trigger...

• CLICK*

'Hah!' The man grinned and grabbed the gun from Zimra's hand. 'You're going to get it this time, boy. I've been playing this game for 15 years.'

'Why does that sound so familar?'

'You know me, boy.' The man aimed the gun at Zimra's head and licked his lips. Zimra stared down the gun barrel that was aimed directly at his face. The overhead lights seemed to cast a cruel light on it, and it glinted maliciously. Sweat trickled down his forhead, and he raised his arm to wipe it off.

• BANG*

A novelty flag popped out of the end and Zimra let out a screech of terror. The flag bounced harmlessly off of Zimra's upraised arm, otherwise he would have lost an eye.

'Damn it.' The man growled, handing the gun over. 'You're good at this.'

'I practice a lot. It took a while, but I'm slowly getting better.' Zimra spun the gun round his finger cockily. 'You know, we could just call it quits right now? I'll take the fifty pounds and we'll both walk away with our lives. You up for it?'

'No.' He shook his head. 'McMinge never quits.'

• CLICK*

At the mention of the name Zimra reflexively pulled the trigger. Even if it had been fired, it would have been a wasted shot; he didn't have the gun pointed anywhere near McMinge. With a shudder, he handed the gun back over to his arch-rival. This wasn't fun anymore.

'What?' McMinge grinned. 'You recognise me now? I'm your brother from another mother, your sister from a different keister.'

'That last bit didn't really make sense.' Zimra tried to stall as the gun was pointed at him once more.

'Heh. I know. It doesn't matter. I've been doing this for fifteen years, mate. You're going to die.'

Zimra squinted, at the gun, trying to peer inside the chambers. He couldn't make much out, the glare from the lights made it almost impossible to see the gun. The whole crowd tensed up as McMinge prepared to fire. His finger tightened on the trigger...

• CLICK*

Zimra let out a louder scream this time and tried to cover his face with his arms.

'Ahem,' Zimra muttered gingerly, 'I'm not a whimp. That's just an act to please my fans around here.'

'DIE ZIMRA! DIE ZIMRA!' The chant continued.

'Some fans you have.' McMinge commented, handing over the gun. 'Perhaps you should just give up now? I know that you're not going to kill me with your next shot. Do you really want to take the chance that I won't kill you with mine? I don't like those odds. You're a good kid, Zim.'

'I'm still willing to take the fifty pounds you know.' Zimra smiled at him. He was a bit more relaxed now with the gun safely in his hand.

'I think you should quit.' McMinge said with more force this time. 'You're really going to die when I get the gun. Don't throw your life away.'

'Why are you adamant all of a sudden?' Zimra asked.

Then he saw it. Something in McMinges eyes flashed. He didn't know what, but it wasn't good news. Within a second he made the mental connection. The next shot was going to kill McMinge. Unfortunately, half a second later, McMinge realised that Zimra had realised what he had realised in the first place. With superhuman speed, McMinge drew a gun from his coat and pointed at Zimra's head. At the same time both of them pulled the trigger, acting in unison.

• BANG*

Zimra's head was torn off of his shoulders as the high calibre bullet ripped through his jaw. McMinge managed to let out a roar of triumph before a similar bullet ripped through his neck, splitting his windpipe clean in two and tearing his neck almost completely in half. Blood fountained into the air, splattering everyone nearby. A cheer ran through the crowd at confirmation of Zimra's death, and then another after they realised McMinge was dead too. Suddenly dozens of people were lining up to play Russian Roulette.

'Line up, line up.' GiR grinned, taking his rigged gun from under the desk. He had meant to give that one to Zimra. Oh well, can't win them all.

Markie and Juice walked through the crowd hand in hand, standing close by each other. They never wanted to let go; the contact between their bodies felt too good. Sometime recently they had both thrown down their guards and had submitted to their love. Now, much to the disgust of F-Crew, they were openly gay lovers. Only one thing was left for them do before they could become complete. They had to find 'him'.

'Maybe he isn't showing up.' Markie sighed, scanning the crowds.

'Now now,' Juice turned to his lover and kissed him on the cheek, 'He'll be here, don't worry your pretty head about it.'

'Don't talk to me like that!' Markie whirled on him. He tried to look angry, but there was a grin curling up the corners of his lips. 'You know I don't like you objectifiying me.'

'Sit your cute ass down and close your mouth, sugar.' Juice took a swig of beer.

Markie sat down. 'You should really stop that, you know.'

'Stop what?' Juice chugged some more booze.

'The...' Markie sighed. 'Nevermind. We'll just fight again.'

'What?' Juice growled, his mood changing. 'Are you talking about my drinking again?'

'Never mind.'

'Don't you never mind me!' Juice roared, throwing the beer at Markies head.

'Hey!' Markie cried as the can thwacked into his forhead. 'See? You're always doing shit like this! You're a fucking alchoholic and I don't like it!

Juice shook his head angrily and pulled another beer from his pocket. Juice had custom made jeans, there were over twelve pockets on them and each one was refridgerated. He could leave the house for at least fifteen minutes without having to return for a beer.

'Shut up or I'll do even worse.' Juice opened his new beer and took a drink.

'Juice! Damn it, put down the beer! Let's talk about this!'

'I thought you didn't want to? I thought you said we'd just fight again?'

'We have to talk.' Markie sat up. Tears were brimming in his eyes now, and a bruise was swelling on his head. 'I don't think I can do this. The only reason I've been holding on is for the sake of little Juickie.'

'Juickie? Don't give me that FUCKING name! Where the hell is he? Eh? You tell me? Where the fuck is the son we're fighting for? Fuck you!' Juice hurled another beer at Markies head. It cracked into his skull and Markie hit the ground, unconcious. 'Fuck you. Fuck Juickie. Fuck everything!'

Juice stormed off, pushing his way through the crowds. Unfortunately for him, he didn't hear a quiet voice shouting 'Dad? Dads? Where are you?'. Markie was unconcious, but suddenly he had a dream of his son. He looked suspiciously like...

On the other side of the docking bay, Anima, Ceadrath and Azarak were standing in the corner. Azarak was smoking a cigarette quietly, while Cead and Anima kept lookout. They were looking for Grif, but so far hadn't caught any sign of him. Doubtless there would be plenty of other bounty hunters around too, and they had to make sure that none of those got to him first.

'So,' Anima looked at them, 'What are we going to do with all of that Res when we get it?'

'I'm going to buy one of those Zimra sex dolls.' Ceadrath replied.

'Heh, me too. What about you, Azzie?'

'Money is for the weak.' Azarak replied without emotion. He took a drag on his cigarette. 'I don't need material pleasures to obtain happiness.'

'Oh. Okay. So me and Cead can share the prostitutes then?'

'Sure.'

'Even the 10 year old one?'

Azaraks eyebrows rose in unison. 'You said what, now?'

Anima and Ceadrath laughed. 'Nothing.'

'Whatever.' Azarak stated. 'Oh, and Grif is over there by the way.'

All three of them turned. Grif was standing in the middle of the docking bay. Everyone around him was standing well back; it looked like there was an invisible barrier between him and the rest of the world. Periodically, someone would run out of the crowd and take a shot at him, but the bullet would somehow fly wide, and, luckily, hit another armed gunman in the face. Within a minute around twenty assassins lay dead around him, and only one was left alive.

'Jesus.' Anima gaped. 'That's some fucking plot armor. How can we take him down?'

'Follow my lead.' Azarak threw down his cigarette and suddenly headed towards Grif.

Grif turned to face the last surviving attacker and smirked.

'Why do you think you can beat me, the Scarecrow?' Grif reached into his pocket and pulled out a Cuban, lighting it up casually. The other man was still pointing a gun at his face.

'You can't live forever, Scarecrow.' His finger tightened on the trigger...

'Stop!' Pltcom suddenly ran infront of Scarecrow and spread his arms wide. 'I know I just logged on, but I'm willing to give you some def Grif.'

'Shit!' The lone gunman said. 'Get out of the way, I don't want to kill you!'

'I'm willing to die to save Grif!'

Grif placed his hand on Plt's shoulder. 'Don't worry Plt, my plot armour also extends to subsdiuary characters too, you'll be fine.'

The gunman tightened his finger on the trigger and fired. BANG BANG BANG! He emptied the entire clip and quickly reloaded, letting off another few shots in quick succession. Plt's body jerked as the bullets ripped through his flesh, blasting his heart and lungs into meaty shreds. A bullet flew through his stomach and tore his spine in two, but somehow missed Grif, who was standing right behind.

'Oh.' Grif looked down at Plt's body. 'I forgot to mention, it only works on important characters.'

'I'll be back!' The gunman cried and turned to run.

Grif took one final drag on his Cuban and flicked it through the air. It flew gracefully, twisting in circles like a trained diver, before landing in the end of the mans gun. He gasped and reflexively pulled the trigger. Bang! The gun misfired and burst into pieces. Instantly the mans hand was torn to pieces and his body riddled with bullets as the whole clip mysteriously fired.

'Damn,' Grif grinned. 'I'm fucking good.'

Grif turned and fled the scene before any more trouble could start. Azarak, Cead and Anima followed stealthily, trailing his every movement.

ETA 0 - F-Crew Holodeck

Meanwhile, in the Holodeck, a strange scene was taking place. Rob was walking along with his arm around Beth's shoulders. They were at the beach. Seagulls called overhead as the waves rolled in majestically, soaking the couples feet periodically. Rob turned to beth and smiled at her, then asked her to sit down. She complied and, before he joined her, Rob sneakily dropped something behind him.

'oh rob i hav waited for u for so long why u always so hard to get at'

'Hush, Beth.' He placed a finger on her lips. 'Let's enjoy this moment. Look at the sunset, take it all in.'

'ok,' She smiled happily. Then she turned to look at his face. 'wat happend to u r nose?' Her handed reached out to touch it.

Abrubtly Rob smacked her hand away. 'Don't touch me there!'

'omg i am so sorri' She cried in shame and drew her hand away. Recently no man ever wanted to be touched by her and it was starting to erode her self confidence.

Rob cringed as she drew backwards. He shouldn't have acted so hastily. Still, one thing puzzled him; why would she want to touch his mushed, bloody, broken nose? She must have some kind of freaky fetish for bodily deformation. Nice.

'Give me your hand, Beth.' He reached out to take her hand.

'can i trust u?'

'Of course.' He took her hand in his and guided her fingers to his nose.

'omg it is so squishy n big i lov it.'

'I'm glad you like it, Beth.' He sniffled a bit and a trickle of blood poured out of his nostrils.

'u r bleeding let me wipe it off i lov cock.'

'Oka- What? You love cock?' Rob stood up and took a step backwards and stared at her incrediously.

She drew her hand back and opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Then, something caught her attention, and she pointed behind him. 'omg rob ur sketchers!'

Rob whirled round just in time to see a massive wave roll onto the beach and drag away a pair of Sketchers. All it took was a second and they were gone, floating away into the sea, never to be seen again.

'Don't worry, they're not mine.' Rob comforted her. They were, in actuality, Carlds. Rob had stolen them and dropped them before he had sat down with beth.

'oh taht is so good 2 hear i was worried'

'Mother fucker.' Carld yelled, bursting into the Holodeck. He was wielding what looked like an emergency fire axe. 'My fucking Sketchers!'

'Carld...' Rob whispered and turned to face him. 'Have you come back for more?'

'You ruined my fucking Sketchers! It'll take me weeks to get that fake Holo-Water out of them!' Carld started to advance on Rob, holding the axe before him to keep Rob at bay. 'I'm going to fucking get you for this, you bastard.'

'You and me are going to have it out Carld.'

Without another word, Rob lunged at Carld, taking him off guard. With one swift chop to the wrist, Carld lost a grip of his axe and was sent flailing backwards. Rob advanced, swinging his fists like the blades of a helicopter, turning into a whirling dervish. Letting out an animalistic screech of terror, Carld turned and ran for the door as fast as his legs would take him, risking a glance of his shoulder to check on Rob.

'YOU FUCKED WITH THE WRONG GUY!' Rob screeched, picking up the axe. He twirled it round the air so fast it became a blur, throwing it from hand to hand like a professional. 'I WENT TO AXE SCHOOL!'

'Jesus fucking mother of holy Christ!' Carld bawled, backing up against the door. He was so terrified he'd forgotten how to open it. 'Don't do it, please!'

'DIE CARLD!' Rob yelled, drawing the axe above his head in one smooth motion. His muscles tensed to deal the finishing blow. He steeled himself, waiting for the moment, when a thought suddenly hit him. 'DO YOU HAVE ANY CO?'

'DON'T KILL M- Oh, yeah, I've got some. You wanna team up?' Carld's face suddenly brightened. Rob lowered the axe. 'Sure, what have you got?'

'Fucking sucker.' Carld abrubtly drew a pistol and pressed it against Rob's belly. 'I don't have any CO, they're shit, man. How the fuck do you expect to land with CO? Didn't anyone teach you how to play this game?'

'Hey-' Rob tried to step backward, but Carld pressed the gun harder against his stomach. 'I wasn't really going to kill you. Heh, you can put the gun down.'

'You destroyed my Sketchers.'

'They're just shitty shoes. You can get another pair.' Rob shot a guilty look at the now-ruined pair of Sketchers.

'Your fleet is shit. You can get a new one, too.'

'But it took me all round to make it!'

'And it took me weeks to save up for my Sketchers. See my point?' Carld cocked the pistol.

'But it's fucking PA, man. PA is more important than real life!' Rob held up his hands in prayer and stared at Carld with puppy dog eyes.

'Do you know what I named my fleets? Do you? One, Sketchers are cool. Two, I love Sketchers. And finally, three: Wero is a dick.' Carld let out a sigh. 'And now my fucking Sketchers are gone. You're going to die, Rob.'

A second before Carld pulled the trigger, the door behind him opened. Carld lost his balance and went flying backwards, hitting the ground hard. His hand landed beside his head and the pistol swiveled towards his skull. The shock triggered a reaction in his body and his finger tightened on the trigger...

CLICK

'Your safetys off, douche bag.' This came from whoever had opened the door. Carld looked up and stared directly into the face of Vimto. 'What the fuck is going on here? Can't I come to the Holo-Deck for a nice bit of rumpy pumpy with a girl who can't give me AIDs?'

'u can sleep with me gromit i dun hav ads an i lov cock.'

'You what now? Gromit?' Vimto turned to face her. As he took in her body, a grin spread across his face, and he walked past Calrd and Rob. 'Say now, pretty lady, would you like a drink?'

'o yes plz r u gon get me drunk?' Beth asked hopefully.

'Sure, whatever.' He handed her a cup of his famous brew which he conveiniently stored in his pocket. 'It's called Vimto, you probably don't have it where you're from, but it's good. ' 'is it acohol?'

'Something like that.' He reassured her.

Beth looked at the cup hungrily and took a long, thirsty swig. What happend in the next couple of seconds was amazing to behold. Her face went from beautiful to ugly in a second as her eyes crossed. Next a flush rose up to her cheeks and her throat contracted. She suddenly turned to the side and let out a horrendous noise as she puked her guts out.

'Heh.' Vimto grinned. 'I don't do e-pussy. My name isn't Vimto, ffs, it's Vomit. .'

She stared at the cup in horror and ran out the door, throwing up all way. Vomit turned next to look at Carld and Rob. A wide grin spread across his face.

'We'll finish this later, Carld.' Rob gulped and got to his feet.

'I agree. Let's get the fuck out of here.'

The two of them ran heard first out the room. Vomit followed nonchalantly, whistling and taking his time.

Beth hurtled through the corridors at full speed. Nothing was going right! The only guy who'd wanted her almost got killed, then another guy had tricked her into drinking vomit. What was she going to do? Tears streamed down her face as she ran around with no particular destination in mind; all she knew is she wanted to keep moving.

'Beth!' A familiar voice behind her called out.

As she heard the voice, a wave of emotions swept over her. She stopped in her tracks and looked back slowly. Standing a few steps behind her was Zimra.

'zim i tot u wer dead!! wat about the russian rolet? omg u r ok i lov u u r ok!'

'Don't worry, Beth.' He took a few steps towards her and wrapped his arms around her. 'Nobody can kill me, it'll be okay, don't worry.'

'i am so happy to see u'

'Shut up and kiss me you idiot.' He pulled her close and kissed her passionately, pressing his lips against hers with a force she hadn't felt in years.

'ommmmgggg' she managed to muffle, 'iiii wank ur cok'

'Heh.' Zimra grinned, breaking the kiss. He reached in his pocket for something. 'That wasn't as good as I'd imagined, you're a shit kisser Beth.'

'wat r u sayin?'

'You've destroyed my illusions about you. I can't let you live anymore.' From out of his pocket he drew an axe. Beth's eyes bulged; that was one big pocket, what else could it contain?

'wat is that 4?'

'I'm going to kill you.'

'mak lov 2 me'

'I'm going to kill you, you fucking bitch.' He grabbed her by her hair and kissed her one last time, then grabbed the axe handle with both hands. 'Start running!'

She screamed in terror and turned to run, flying down the corridor at full speed. She could hear his footsteps right behind her, he was so close. Her head was still reeling from that godly kiss and she didn't know what to do anymore. Why would he want to kill her after giving her something like that? She didn't have time to think about it, and instead kept on running. On the right a sign appeared for the bathroom. She veered towards it and opened the door, slamming it locked behind her. As she turned to face the door, there was a dull *thud* followed by the splinter of wood. shit, she thought, he is knockign the door dwon.

'I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow this door down!' Zimra roared from outside.

Beth screamed and lost her footing, falling down hard on her butt. She scrambled backwards into the corner, tears of fear dripping down her cheeks. Why was he doing this to her? *thud* She let out another screech. The door was splintering now, big chunks were falling off of it as each axe blow hit. Soon she could see the head of the axe thrusting it's way through.

'GET AWAY FORM ME!!' She yelled.

'Hahahahahaha!' Zimra laughed insanely.

A huge chunk of the door suddenly fell inwards. The axe head followed quickly, tearing out a huge hole. Zimra's head popped through and grinned at her. He seemed to pause for a second, then took hold of his own hair and pulled. The skin seemed to slide off his face and Beth screamed again in terror before the realization hit her. It wasn't Zimra after all...

'HEREEEEEE'SSSSSSSSS JONNY!!!!!!!!'

'No!' Beth screamed with all her might.

Jonny reached through the hole in the door and released the lock, then kicked it open. He dropped the axe and ran inside, gripping Beth by the hair and yanking her to her feet. She let out a yelp of pain and tried to scratch at his face, but he knocked her hands away easily.

'You're mine now.' Jonny grinned, eyeing her up and down. Damn, she was hot. 'I'm going to fuck you so many times-'

'What are you doing?' Someone said from behind him.

Jonny dropped Beth and turned quickly, reaching for the axe. He grabbed the handle and tried to pull, but it wouldn't budge. As his eyes slowly travelled along the haft of the weapon, he noticed a foot on it. Well, a shoe, but doubtless there was a foot inside. His eyes traversed the shiny leather boot, up the well-pressed trousers and shirt and finally to the face of the unknown man. Except, there wasn't a face to look at, just an incredibly shiny gun-barrel.

'Bye!' Vomit smiled and pulled the trigger.

BANG

Jonnys head split cleanly in two, disgorging blood and brains all over the place. Beth shrieked again as crimson matter burst against her face, and Vomit began to wonder how one woman could contain so many screams. He was tempted to shoot her too, just to shut her up, or at least teach her to scream right. She couldn't even spell 'Argh!', when she screamed it sounded like 'rgaaaaah!!'

'Now, Beth.' Vomit kicked the body of Jonny to the side. 'You're a little troublemaker aren't you?'

'som parts of me aren't so little' She replied, instantly regaining her composure. There was cock to be had here, after all. 'did u notice?'

'Yes. Your breasts are fair to middlin', I saw. Now, come with me.' He reached out for her hand.

She took it and followed him out of the room.

ETA 0 - F-Crew Docking Bay

'Tbfh, Entropy, I don't see your problem.' Lionne crossed his arms and glared. 'Why do you want to leave F-Crew for Wolfpack?'

'Well,' Entropy replied calmly, 'They've already accepted me. Face it, they're a lot better than us, and most people here would give up their left arm just to talk to a Wolfpack member.

Lionne scratched his prosthetic left arm and sighed. 'That doesn't always work, trust me.'

'Heh, well, some people obviously aren't Wolfpack material.'

'Tbfh, Entropy, I don't like your tone. You've been acting all superior.'

'Lionne your tongue is as slack as Beth's pussy after an F-Crew meet.'

'You what now?' Lionne raised an eyebrow.

'You heard me. You're about as annoying as Zimra after he... Well how he is all the time, you're that annoying.'

'Why are you suddenly speaking like that? You sound like a fucking idiot!'

'Fuck you! You've made me so fucking angry that I feel like I'm going to split in two like that time Imperial fucked your ass.'

'You know what?' Lionne slapped Entropy. 'Fuck you. I try to be your friend, try to do everything, and you come out with this shit to me? I don't want you to leave F-Crew, I want you to stay here. But fuck it, tbfh, I'm gone.'

'Lionne!' Entropy yelled. 'Get back here you shit! You're as much of a fuck up as F-Crew every time they land an attack! You're so fucking brain-dead that you couldn't even beat Kalos in a game of tic-tac-toe even if you got the first six moves!'

'Excuse me?' Kalos tapped on his shoulder.

'What? I don't have the time to talk, I'm busier than a DC in Wolfpack.' Entropy replied without looking.

'What the fuck did you just say about me? Did I hear you calling me stupid?' Kalos placed her pistol against the back of Entropies head.

Entropy froze as the cold metal pressed on his skull. 'W-Who are you?'

'Kalos.' She replied.

'But you sound like a girl...?'

'I am a fucking girl you idiot.'

'Wait...' Entropy thought for a second. 'Where you the girl tied up in the Russian Roulette stand?'

'Yes.'

'How did you get free?'

Entropy felt another pistol push against his ear.

'Hiya.' It was GiR. 'After we killed all the challengers, I offered her half of the money I made to marry me. She said yes! Score!'

'Shut up GiR.' Kalos spat.

'Yes wife...'

'Fucking ass.' She pushed the gun harder against Entropies head. 'I'm afraid you're going to have to die now. Nobody calls me stupid and gets away with it.' Entropy suddenly leaped forwards and started running. He turned his head to look at them as his feet pounded against the ground and yelled: 'If you want to kill me you'll have to finish the job faster than Blizzard having sex!'

Kalos and GiR took off after Entropy. He quickly dissapeered into the crowds, but they were close on his tail. He couldn't outrun them forever. As they ran after him, Kalos glimpsed a figure who slightly resembled Sakato passing them by. He looked strange, though, he was wearing a Tuxedo and had a rather fetching haircut.

Sakato3 didn't notice Kalos and GiR, he had no reason to, and carried on walking. He knew who he was looking for and there would be no mistaking him. Sakato.... Where are you? I've already killed twenty of us, and there aren't many left. Once I deal with you, I will surely attain ultimate power.

Then he saw it, a head bobbing along in the distance. He had the right face, the right haircut, the right slightly queer walk. It was Sakato. Sakato3 made his move instantly, he darted forwards like a viper, running at full speed. Before it was too late, Sakato noticed the movement and turned to defend himself. He was was totally unarmed, though, and Sakato3 barelled into him, knocking him flat onto his back.

'Who the hell?' Sakato groaned and looked upwards. Terror filled his eyes as realization hit him hard. 'You're....'

'The names Bond,' Sakato3 pointed a silenced pistol at Sakato's face, 'Sakato Bond.'

Sakato pushed up with all his might and managed to throw Sakato3 off of him. He got to his feet and looked around quickly for a weapon, but Sakato3 was already back on his feet. He kept the gun pointed at Sakato, circling him warily, waiting for any move.

'What the hell are you waiting for?' Sakato growled. 'Just fucking kill me already.'

'I need to be sure you're him,' Sakato3 replied, 'They'll take away my licence to kill if I screw this up.'

'Then you've got the wrong guy, don't shoot me.'

'Aha! It is you! Only one of us would say something as cowardly as that!'

'Look!' Sakato shouted, pointing to his left, 'Miss Sakatopenny!'

'Where?' Sakato3's eyes filled with avarice and he turned.

This was Sakatos chance. He rushed forwards and punched with all his might. Sakato3 flew backwards, firing off his gun randomly, and hit the ground hard. The couple of bullets he fired off missed entirely; one of them hit a wall harmlessly and the other blew of Lilleman's penis.

Ceadrath, who was passing nearby, couldn't help but grin. 'Tbfh, that shot was one in a million. Poor Lilleman.'

Sakato quickly gained the advantage in the fight. Bond was fast, but he wasn't too physically strong. Soon Sakato had Sakato3 on the ground and pinned his legs down with his knees. He grabbed Sakato3's wrist and squeezed until the silenced pistol fell out of his hand.

'This one is from Sakato with love!' Sakato grabbed the silenced pistol and pointed it at Sakato3's head.

'They never told me this was Mission Impossible!' Sakato3 screeched. 'Wait, wrong film. Don't do it Sakato, you only live twice! Well, actually there's about one hundred of us, but you get the idea!'

'I've got a view to kill you.'

Sakato pulled on the trigger and ther pistol jerked in his hands, releaseing it's payload. There was a short, silenced gunshot followed by a muffled scream. Sakato3 stared into the barrel of the gun as it fired, his vision slowly filling with red that filtered along it until his life was extinguished.

'Sorry, man, but I'm going to die another day.' Sakato got to his feet and vanished into the crowds.

Grif ran as fast as he could. He knew he was being followed now, three men were on his tail and approaching fast. He could easily outrun them, but unfortunately he'd accidentally headed straight for a dead end. Oh well, no biggie, he thought to himself, knowing my luck that'll somehow turn out to my advantage. Once he approached the wall he stopped dead in his tracks and whirled to face his agressors.

'Nice to meet you.' Grif bowed his head slightly as they came to a stop before him.

'There's our mark.' Anima gasped, panting for breath. The chase had tired him out. 'So did they say if they wanted him dead or alive?'

'I don't think it matters.' Ceadrath replied, pulling his gun from it's holster.

'Stop!' Azarak shouted, grabbing Ceadraths gun. 'Don't point a gun at him!'

'What?' Ceadrath tried to wrestle his gun free. 'What the hell is wrong with you, Azzie? We've got him right in our sights, we could finish this in seconds!'

'You idiot!' Azarak slapped Ceadrath with his free hand. 'You can't kill the Scarecrow with conventional methods. He is too lucky for that, any attempt to kill him in a sterotypical way can only end with disaster. Now, watch this, I've set up a little demonstration.'

Azarak whistled shrilly and a man ran up next to him. His features were non-descript and his clothes plain, if you could give him a name it would have to be Faceless Soldier #1, also known as cannon fodder. Azarak gave the man a quick set of orders and he nodded curtly, then turned to face Grif. Cannon fodder pulled up the machine gun he was wielding and drew a bead on Grif's skull.

'Would you like me to kill him now, Sir?' Cannon fodder replied.

'Yes. Fire!'

Cannon fodder fired, unloading his whole clip on Grif. The gunshots rung out loudly across the room, drawing the attention of everyone. Ceadrath stared in disbelief as a line of bullets stitched holes around Grif, making a perfect outline of him against the wall. The final bullet hit the wall and richocheted off, flying backwards and impacting against Cannon fodders head. His skull was blown to shreds and in an instant and he went down, his machine gun skittering across the ground as his fingers lost their grip.

'Wow.' Ceadrath gaped. 'That guy had a really shit aim.'

'It's not his aim, Cead. Grif has plot armor.' Azarak said patiently. 'You can't kill him just by shooting at him, it's doomed to failure.'

'So,' Anima interjected, 'What the hell do we do, then? How exactly do you kill someone unconventionally?'

'Like this.' Azarak suddenly pulled a spoon out of his pocket and charged forwards.

Grif noticed the movement and tried to draw his gun, but Azarak was on top of him so fast that it was hard to believe. The spoon darted forwards, cleaving the air in two as it moved, and ripped into Grif's right shoulder. Although it was only a spoon, it did enough damage to cause Grif to gasp in pain.

'Oh my god!' Grif gasped, taking a step backwards in shock. 'Someone actually hit me! Holy crap, and it hurts too!'

'Come on you idiots,' Azarak turned his head and yelled, 'Let's get him!'

Ceadrath looked around quickly for a weapon. He saw a discarded straw and grabbed it, then rushed to join Azarak. Between the two of them with their spoon and straw, they began to slowly beat the helpless Grif to death. He couldn't fight back, he didn't even know how to, the pain was too intense. Small scratches and nicks started to appear on his body as the unconventional weapons took their toll.

'Now it's my turn!' Yelled a voice from behind them. Anima had picked up a chair, and he was running full speed towards Grif.

'Yes!' Grif grinned in triumph. 'A chair! I know how to deal with chairs!'

Grif raised his fists and struck out, knocking Azarak and Ceadrath to the side easily. They dropped their weapons as they hit the ground, knocked unconcious in one shot. Anima let out a roar of rage and increased his pace, drawing the chair up infront of him as he ran. The second he got close, Grif spin kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backwards. The chair fell out of his hands as he was hit and Grif moved quickly, catching it in both of his hands. He threw it in the air and kicked it with all his might, just as Anima was getting to his feet.

'Oh hell no!' Anima cried as he saw what was happening.

The chair split into pieces and collided into Anima; the rough, splintered wood tore through his body. One of the chair legs crashed into his head, knocking him out cold.

Grif grinned in triumph. ‘Don’t fuck with the Scarecrow!’ He said his trademark line, then walked away casually like nothing had happened.

A few minutes later, Ceadrath groaned and got to his feet. He nudged Azarak with his foot, then gave him a supporting hand to help him up. Azarak smiled his thanks and took the proffered hand, grunting with exertion as he got to his feet.

‘That didn’t work, Azzie.’ Ceadrath pointed out.

‘It would have worked if Anima hadn’t fucked it up,’ Azarak uncharacteristically swore.

‘It was a dumb idea in the first place.’ Ceadrath retorted. ‘I mean, a spoon? What the hell were you thinking? I say we just gun him to fucking pieces.’

‘It was working if you didn’t notice’ He replied. ‘All we need to do is catch him and do the same thing again, this time without Anima fucking it up.’

‘No.’ Ceadrath turned on him and shouted. ‘It was a fucking dumb idea. We’re going to just shoot the shit out of him this time.’

‘That’s fucking twisted movie logic, Ceadrath,’ Azarak growled, actually showing emotion for once. ‘Haven’t you ever seen the kind of film? Enemies create perfect weapon, good guys manage to avoid it by a severe twist of fate that could only happen once in a million years. Bad guys discard perfect weapon, even though using it again would secure victory.’

‘You’ve lost me.’

‘You’re such an idiot.’ Azarak sighed. ‘Fine, we’ll play it your way. Let’s go in all guns blazing, see how much good that does us. When we get to the afterlife, I’ll bitch slap you.’

‘Just watch and learn Azarak.’ A sneaky grin spread across Ceadraths face. ‘I have a cunning plan.’

Anima sat up. ‘As cunning as a Zik?’

‘Even more cunning. What man could possibly survive two Fighters and a Battleship attacking him at the same time? Humans are only Anti-Human.’

‘The Scarecrow could.’ Azarak muttered. ‘The Scarecrow could survive a nuclear missile.’

All of their thoughts drifted back in time, to the day the earth was destroyed. A huge barrage of Nuclear weaponry had been detonated at the same time, causing the planet to split in two. Supposedly, only one man had survived the catastrophe, but his identity was unknown. Azarak began to wonder, could this Scarecrow be the same person?

ETA 0 – F-Crew HQ

Wero wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the F-Crew HQ. Earlier in that day when he’d been drunk, he’d tried to hit on Kalos. Unfortunately for him, Kalos had shot him down in flames, and now he was without a woman to try and expend his passions on. He had tried looking for Beth, but she was nowhere to be found. Perhaps there was another girl in F-Crew who had escaped his attention?

As he continued walking, he passed a few familiar faces. Wakey was busy crucifying Sharkbait for asking about the TOTW again. Wero raised his hand in greeting, but then quickly decided it was a bad idea when Wakey suddenly rushed towards him. ‘WHAT?’ Wakey yelled.

‘Nothing!’ Wero took a step backwards. ‘I was just saying hi!’

‘Yeah, right. You’re another one of those bastards come to insult me, aren’t you?’ He accused. ‘Ooooh, look, it’s Wakey, he vanishes for weeks and then suddenly appears out of nowhere and pretends like F-Crew is all big and mighty again. Oooh Wakey thinks with a few well-written PAMails he can suddenly turn the fate of the Alliance around. Fuck you. I’ve had enough of this shit.’

‘No, I’m serious man.’ Wero stammered, ‘I just wanted to say hi.’

‘Fuck you.’ Wakey drew his pistol and placed it against Wero’s skull. ‘I am a good HC. I do my job. I do not slack on TOTW’s. I do not let my real life ruin my Alliance. I am not a bad HC. I do not kill members randomly for pissing me off. I am not going Postal.’

‘Then put the gun down!’

Wakeys hand shook with indecision. Madness flickered across his eyes and a small bead of saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. Wero could see Wakey’s finger tightening on the trigger. Just a little more pressure and the gun would go off…

‘I don’t know even know your name,’ Wakey growled, ‘You’re that insignificant to me. Yet you dare come into my Alliance, go on my attacks, get defense with my member’s ships, and then come up to my face and insult me? What the fuck is wrong with you people? You’re all fucking scum. You insolent dogs don’t even deserve someone as benevolent as me as your HC.’

Wero whimpered with terror and tried to turn, but Wakey grabbed him by the throat and leveled the pistol between his eyes. There was no escape now, Wakey had him firmly in his grasp.

‘Wakey…’ Wero gasped, ‘Don’t do this, please!’

Suddenly, down the corridor, two figures approached. Wero stared at them blankly; he had no clue who they were. They seemed to attract Wakeys interest though, and he let go of Wero to turn and face them. Wero took his chance and split, running as fast as his legs would take him.

‘Where the FUCK have you two been?’ Wakey roared angrily.

Rancor stopped up short. ‘Jeez Wakey, calm down. What’s up with you?’

‘He looks mad.’ Rop pointed out.

‘The round is almost over, and you two only show up now?’ Wakey aimed his pistol at Rancor. ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you now.’

‘Well-‘

Wakey fired, blowing Rancors head to pieces. Blood and brains splattered onto Rop’s face and he screeched in fear, voiding his bowels soundlessly. Excrement slid down his legs and he turned to run, but he was too slow. BANG! Wakey fired, and then fired again. The first shot hit Rop in the back of the neck, shattering his spine and tearing through his windpipe. The next tunneled through his ass, blowing his pelvis to pieces and bursting out the other side. His dick and balls were blown to smithereens and he hit the floor, dead as a week old corpse.

Wakey emptied the clip and reloaded, even though he had only fired three bullets. He didn’t want to be caught short.

‘Now,’ Wakey muttered to himself, ‘Where did that other guy go?’

‘HOAALLLY SHIT!’ A cry suddenly sounded behind him. It was Nika. ‘WAKEYS GONE POSTAL!!’

Wakey fired one shot, directly between Nika’s eyes. Nika managed to let out a strangled cry before his brains were torn to shreds. They burst out the back of his head like a volcano erupting and splattered against the wall. Wakey sighed and reloaded his pistol again. Good thing he had a spare clip for every member of F-Crew…

He turned down the corridor in pursuit of Wero, leaving a trail of bodies behind him. Five minutes later, a strange figure appeared. He walked in a rather ungainly fashion, clanking from side to side like he was made of metal. In truth he was only partly so, and was in fact a Cyborg. Blizz stopped infront of the corpse of Nika.

‘???’ He looked confused, totally lost.

Then he noticed the bodies of Rancor and Rop, lieing dead nearby. They’d somehow fallen in each other’s arms as they died; a bloody embrace of two possible lovers. Perhaps that was why they’d vanished for so long?

‘?!?!?!?!’ Blizz tried to comprehend the scene.

ETA 0 – A locked closet

Imperial rubbed his hands together in anticipation. His plan was ready now; it would only take a few more minutes to execute. He had everything he needed in place. He looked around the small closet and smiled. Next to him was small toaster, although it was now barely recognizable as one, and next to it was a tied up figure. During GiR and Kalos’ chase of Entropy, Imperial had intercepted them. Now he had his hostage, and she was all trussed up like a turkey again beside him.

‘Dear sweet Kalos.’ He smiled at her. ‘You will be like my pawn in a real life game of Chess.’

She struggled and tried to reply, but her mouth was taped shut.

He rubbed a dagger against her cheek. ‘I wonder if you are destined to be forgotten. Will your life fade in the shadow of greater beings?’

A look of terror spread across her face as the dagger pressed harder against her skin. She tried to scream and managed to let out a sort of muffled whelp. Imperial growled and slapped her across the face.

‘Silence, dog. Your only purpose is to die by my hand.’

He suddenly thrust the dagger harder against her and pierced the skin on her cheek. Blood oozed out of the wound, dripping down the side of her face and onto the floor. Imperial smiled; the girl would be properly cowed now.

‘Now, shall we get things rolling?’ Imperial reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell-phone. It was Kalos’s. He dialed the number labeled ‘Husband.’

‘Yeah?’ It was GiR. He sounded worried. ‘Kalos honey? Is that you?’

‘No.’ Imperial replied with a snicker. ‘If you ever want to see your Wife alive again, you will do a favor for me. Is that understood?’

‘Who is this?’ He demanded.

‘Silence!’ Imperial shouted, then immediately realized his mistake. If he was too loud, somebody was bound to come into the closet. Imperial didn’t want that to happen, he didn’t want to come out of the closet, he found it very comfortable. ‘I will kill her right now unless you agree to my demands!’

‘I need proof that she’s alive.’ GiR replied warily.

‘Very well.’

Imperial removed Kalos’s gag but kept his knife at her throat. She knew that if she shouted her throat would be slit within a second. There was no choice but for her to go along with his demands.

‘Say hello to your Husband.’

‘GiR?’ Kalos asked shakily.

‘Yes baby? Oh god it is you!’

‘Where the fuck are you, you useless bastard? Why the fuck haven’t you found me yet? It isn’t that fucking hard, you retard, I’m locked in a-‘

Imperial slapped the gag back on her mouth and whacked her upside he head. Foolish girl, she had almost given away his location! He didn’t dare take off the gag again. He saw the fire in her eyes; she wasn’t one to give up easily.

‘Now,’ Imperial snatched the phone back, ‘I want you to kill the Wolfpack delegation for me. I don’t care how you do it, I don’t care what you have to do, but you have one hour. When it’s done, phone me back, or else your Wife will die. Is that clear?’

‘Kill Wolfpack?’ GiR moaned. ‘But that’s impossible! Every single one of their members could overpower the whole F-Crew HQ with a pair of chopsticks!’

‘Chopsticks?’

‘I couldn’t think of anything better.’

‘One hour!’ Imperial closed the call.

ETA 0 – F-Crew Docking Bay

GiR sighed with despair. How the hell was he going to kill an entire delegation of Wolfpack members? He didn’t know anyone that powerful. Well, he did, but they were dead now. Zimra and McMinge could have easily destroyed them just by lifting up their Kilts, but both of them were dead now. Who else could help…? Aha!

GiR ran through the crowds, searching each face he saw in turn. Eventually after almost twenty minutes, he found who he was looking for. Entropy was standing beside Lionne, apparently having finally cornered him.

‘Tbfh, Entropy,’ Lionne said, ‘I don’t like the way you’re acting. First you insult me, then you chase me. I mean, what the hell?’

‘Lionne, people like you don’t deserve to live.’ Entropy shook his head sadly. ‘You speak worse English than Beth reading off the ingredients to a tin of spaghetti.’

‘What? That didn’t make any sense. ’

‘Do you really want to hear Beth try and say Carbohydrate and Hydrogenated Fat?’

Lionne flushed angrily. ‘I speak better English than her.’ Although he couldn’t resist adding ‘Tbfh’ at the end of his sentence.

‘Lionne, your mental process is slower than Kalos’s trying to figure out how to report Defence Calls.’

Halfway across the HQ, something flickered in Kalos’s head. She didn’t know how she knew, but someone had insulted her intelligence. It was… Entropy. She silently put him down on her list of people to kill. Nobody fucks with Kalos.

'Fuck you, Entropy.' Lionne walked past him, brushing hard against his shoulder. 'I don't give a shit anymore.'

GiR took his chance and intercepted Entropy before he could give chase. Entropy looked him up and down and growled angrily, apparently annoyed at being interrupted. GiR gulped; Entropy was pretty big, and he looked like he knew how to use his fists. After all, Entropy was a homosexual, and he got into a lot of fights because of it. At least, that was the running theory. Nobody was sure who started the rumour, but it had probably been Zimra.

'Entropy. I need to ask you a favour.'

'What is it?' He demanded.

'I need you to help me kill the delegation of Wolfpack members.' GiR grinned slightly as he said this, owing to how ridiculous the prospect sounded.

'How the hell do you expect me to do that? It's not like I can click my fingers and suddenly summon an army. Do you know how strong the members of Wolfpack are? To be honest, GiR, you're asking the impossible. Defeating Wolfpack would be harder than sewing Juice's ass shut after a night with Markie.'

'Shit,' GiR sighed. Then, a thought hit him. Something Entropy had said gave him an idea. 'What about your Boyz?'

'They could do it.' Entropy agreed. 'But why the hell would I want to kill the Wolfpack delegates? They've already agreed to make me a member. Joining Wolfpack is almost as difficult as getting a consistent agreement on Lionnes sex.'

'Entropy, they're going to kill you. They don't want you to join, it's just a trick.'

'What the hell are you talking about?'

'You really think Wolfpack would let an F-Crew member in?' GiR laughed. 'There's a saying that goes around in the other Alliances. F-Crew are a stain on the very fabric of the universe.'

As if they knew they were being talked about, the delegation of Wolfpack members suddenly approached. A hush fell over the room as the power of the WP crew was felt. They seemed to radiate it, an aura of elitism that spoke of fat, geeky nerds, sleepless nights and virginity. Nobody could beat a Virgin with no life and a computer. It was impossible. GiR shuddered as he looked upon them; the task now seemed insurmountable. How could they be defeated?

'Hello Entropy.' One of them stepped forwards, apparently the leader, and held out his hand in greeting. 'Are you ready to come with us? Come, join the Wolfpack. Be one with us.'

'I'd be happier than Beth in a cock factory.' Entropy smiled. He turned to GiR and glared at him angrily, then took the Wolfpack members proffered hand.

'Idiot!' GiR shouted. 'They're going to kill you!'

The Wolfpack member yanked on Entropies hand, pulling him forwards towards a knife he had been concealing. GiR, who had known this was coming, acted quickly. He pulled out his specially modified Russian Roulette revolver and quickly loosed off a volley of shots. The first flew wide, blowing Entropies head to pieces in the blink of an eye. Another couple shots sent a flock of pigeons into the air. How they had fit inside the revolver, GiR wasn't quite sure, but he had been very impressed early when it had worked. Now it was just annoying.

'Fuck!' GiR cried, watching Entropies body sink to the floor.

'Nice.' The Wolfpack member congratulated him. 'You did our job for us. Now all we need to do is get rid of you. No evidence, y'know?'

'Why are you doing this?' GiR stammered as he fiddled with the revolver.

'Why not? We're Wolfpack. We can do whatever the hell we want. Fleet catch a guy with 300k score? Done. Twenty wave someone just for looking at us funny? Done. Create an Alliance in a dead round just for the purpose of winning? Wait... That's what we're doing right now isn't it?'

'You're fucking pathetic.' GiR spat. 'You're a shitty Alliance who rejoined PA just for the purpose of winning, because you were too shit to win any of the other rounds you were in. I don't give a fuck how many great players are in your Alliance, it doesn't change the fact that you're all a bunch of douche bags.'

'You're going to regret those words, boy.' The Wolfpack member snarled.

'GiR doesn't regret shit.' He responded in the third person, just for the fun of it.

'We are the Wolfpack. You will be assimilated.'

The group of Wolfpack members charged forwards at GiR as if they were controlled by one mind. GiR hastily flicked the revolver over to 'experimental code' mode, and pressed the trigger. Everything seemed to happen at once. The Wolfpack members ran backwards in slow motion, returning to their original places, not even seeming to be aware of what they were doing.

'.detalimissa eb lliw uoY. kcapfloW eht era eW.'

GiR noticed that although they were moving backwards, he was free to do what he pleased. He walked up to one of them and slapped them across the face. Weirdly enough, it seemed to work, in an off-kilter sort of way. In re-wind slow motion, a concept extremely hard to explain, he registered the pain backwards; first his face creased in pain, and was then back to normal. GiR knotted his forhead in concentration; this was incredibly confusing. He pointed his gun at another man and, before he knew what was happening, the man's stomach exploded, and then un-exploded. A bullet appeared out of nowhere and found it's way back into the end of the revolver.

Apparently he couldn't do any damage at all. He *could* kill people, but then time would just rewind until they were alive again. How long was this going to happen for? As he stood there in shock, Entropies body rose from the floor like a zombie, and his head re-formed. It was disgusting; the most horrible thing GiR had ever witnessed. Brain knitted itself back together, blood flowed backwards through the air and seeped back into his head. His hand grasped the Wolfpack leaders once more.

'Shit!' Entropy cried as time suddenly went back to normal. Although he'd been dead, he'd seen the method of his own death as time had reversed, and knew how to avoid. He quickly let go of the Wolfpack leaders hand and took a step backwards.

'What incredibly technology.' The Wolfpack leader gaped.

'I programmed it.' GiR grinned. 'And I also taught it how to do this.'

GiR lined up the sights and drew a bead on the Wolfpack leaders head. He flicked a switch and pulled the trigger. BANG! Oh, shit, GiR thought, I pressed the wrong button! I almost lived out the entire story, too!

The revolver fired out of both ends. GiR was first to die; his head seemed to disintegrate as it was hit point blank by the high-calibre bullet. One second it was there, the next it was gone. All that remained was the bloody stump of his neck, geysering blood high into the air. The Wolfpack leaders head popped like bubblewrap, albeit a highly bloody derivative of the product.

'Without further ado...' Entropy raised his right hand and clicked his fingers. 'BOYZ!'

Out of nowhere, hundreds of young boys rushed to surround the Wolfpack members. At their head was Skrittak, holding one boy around each arm with their heads pushed disturbingly close to his crotch. The Wolfpack delegation stirred for a second and looked like they were about to break, but they held tight. In one swift, well trained movement, they all drew their pistols and opened fire. At the same second, Entropies Boyz returned fire.

Gunfire reigned supreme; the noise of over one hundred guns being fired at once was enough to burst anyones eardrums. This turned out to be the case, as Entropy's eardrums exploded the second the handguns fired, deafening him within a second. Skrittak wasn't so lucky, a hail of bullets thudded into his body and tore him to pieces. Even the Boyz he used as human shields weren't enough to protect him. He lay there dead on the ground, lips pressed against those of a rather fetching young lad of 11.

Half a minute passed before the gunfire ceased. Boyz and Wolfpack members alike lay scattered dead across the ground. Not many had been spared from the devastation. One of the only people left alive was Entropy. He walked dizzily away from the scene, trying to hold his head steady to stop the excruciating pain. He couldn't hear a thing, and his eyes were so clogged up with blood from the massacre that he couldn't see either.

'We've almost got him!' Anima cried, running past Entropy. 'Grif's right ahead!'

'Don't get too close.' Azarak warned, 'He's a tricky one.'

'Don't worry about it,' Ceadrath brushed off the advice. As he ran, he quickly drew his pistol and fired a couple of shots at Entropy. 'We'll be fine.'

The bullets whizzed through the air and tore into Entropies legs, effectively hamstringing him. He hit the ground hard, totally confused. He had no idea what was happening; his body was a mess of searing pain. What the hell was happening? Where Wolfpack still coming after him? He tried to stand up but it was fruitless, his legs failed to obey the orders of his brain.

'What the hell was that for?' Anima threw Ceadrath an angry look over his shoulder.

'I just couldn't resist.' Ceadrath took aim and fired one last shot.

BANG

Entropy howled in pain as the bullet tore into his groin. His testicles burst like a pair of ripe grapes being stepped on, and his penis was torn off as if it were made of paper. Tears streamed down his face and he cried in pain, it was all too much. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it.

'Fuck...' Entropy moaned, curling up into the foetal position. Blood oozed from between his legs and puddled around him, dampening his clothes. 'This hurts more than... Than.... Oh god, I'm out of metaphors...'

Entropy lay there, oblivious to the world, slowly dieing.

ETA 0 - Wolfpack HQ

The Wolfpack command room was certainly a sight to behold. It was highly advanced; there were computers and all sorts of fancy gizmos all over the place. People ran back and forth, carrying anything from battle-report sheets to dildos, although nobody really knows why they need so many dildos to the run the place. Regardless, it was a beautiful scene to witness. The organization was perfect, the skill in demonstration was evident, and the cleaners had done a pretty good job, too. You could see your face in the floor.

'Sir?' One of the Wolfpack members looked up from his monitor. He was rather unremarkable, apart from a spot on the end of his nose. In honour of this everyone liked to call him Spot.

'Yes?' The Wolfpack commander queried. 'What's up? I've got a good porn movie downloading here.'

'Well,' Spot coughed nervously, 'Our entire delegation to the F-Crew open day was slaughtered.'

'What?' He slammed his fist on the desk, scaring the living shit out of Spot. 'What the hell happend?'

'I don't know, Sir. We just recieved a communcation about 'Boyz' and 'Entropy' and then the signal went dead. It doesn't make any sense to me.'

'Entropy...' The commander growled. 'Him and his fucking Boyz.'

'Sir? I don't understand.'

'We're declaring war on F-Crew.' He announced suddenly. Every head in the room turned to look. 'We're going to send so many ships we'll Fleet Catch their fucking headquarters. Nobody fucks with Wolfpack and lives!'

'That's because everybody is too afraid to attack us, Sir, even though it's obvious that if a couple of the big Alliances teamped up they could win.'

'Shut up! Do you really think they're that stupid? Don't you know the truth?'

'No, Sir.' Spot shook his head.

'We whored out Ceadrath. He gave good head.'

'Ah.' Spot paused. 'Indeed he did.'

'But now he's gone, and everyone is starting to get some balls. Destroying F-Crew is the perfect opportunity to restore our reign of terror throughout the universe!'

'Yes, Sir.'

'And, if we somehow manage to find Ceadrath there, we can get him to give us some more blowjobs.'

'Capital, Sir.'

'Send out the orders to the fleet! Wolfpack! Tonight we dine in hell!'

ETA 0 - F-Crew Docking Bay.

ETA 0 - F-Crew Docking Bay.

'Shit!' Grif gasped, turning to look over his shoulder. 'They're gaining on me! If they get anywhere near me with that spoon again, I'm a goner.'

Grif tried to increase the pace, but his legs were killing him. Not because he was tired, but because the storyline had progressed to that point where the protagonist had to gain an apparent weakness to create suspense. He needed to find some way to escape, and fast!

'We've almost got him!' Ceadrath grinned, racing to keep up. Since he was the bad guy in this situation, he basically had unlimited stamina for the time being. 'There's no way he can escape!

'This plan of yours better work, Cead.' Anima said. He pulled his pistol out of it's holster as he ran and fired a couple of shots at Grif; they missed entirely but generally added a great deal to the suspense. Any sensible reader would be on the edge of their seat by now.

'Stop firing you idiot!' Azarak gasped. He was sweating buckets and struggling to keep up. Due to his refusal to stick to sterotypical action-scene protocols he could only rely on his own body. 'You're just making him stronger! The more suspense, the harder he'll be to kill!'

'Shut up Azzie!' Ceadrath growled. 'I'm tired of your bullshit logic. It didn't work last time, and it won't work again. You're fucking insane!'

'Ceadrath,' Azarak replied, almost tripping over his own feet as he ran, 'You have to believe me! He's going to kill us if we don't use my 'bullshit logic'.'

'Fuck you!' Ceadrath stopped running, grinding his feet into the ground and coming to a stop. He whirled round and aimed the pistol at Azarak. 'You're trying to sabotage us, that's the only explanation! I'm tired of this sht, Azzie. This is just a simple hunt and kill mission, why are you trying to make it so complicated?'

'Cead...' Azzie gasped, coming to a standstill. A tremor of fear ran up his spine. Now they were up to the point in the story were two of the major villains turn on each other. This wasn't good; unless he did something one of them was going to die.

'Don't you Cead me.' Ceadrath spat. 'Only my friends can call me that. I'm Mr Ceadrath to you, honey.'

'Ceadrath, listen to me.' Azarak tightened his grip on the pistol he was concealing. 'We can't kill him conventionally.'

'As far as I can tell, we can't kill him unconventionally, either.'

'Yes we can!' Azarak protested. 'If Anima hadn't shown up with that chair we would be goners by now.'

'Azarak, you're an idiot.' Ceadrath walked up and slapped him across the face. 'You're so wrapped up in your own beliefs that you can't see the truth. Do you really think Anima running up with a chair was an accident?'

'What do you mean? If it wasn't for him...'

'Exactly! If it wasn't for Anima we would have killed him. And if it wasn't for our guns never aiming straight, we'd kill him too. And if it wasn't for him managing to escape every situation, we'd kill him.'

'What are you trying to say?' Azarak's eyes widened as the truth dawned.

'The unconventional weapons were just as useless as everything else. They only reason they worked for a while was to create suspense. Do you know what the truth is? Do you want to know?'

'Oh my god...' Azarak groaned. 'It can't be...'

'I'm afraid so. We're all at the mercy of some all-powerful god who dictates our every action and movement. Grif won't die until he decides it's time, if he ever does. Nothing we can do will change it.'

'Wait.' Azarak placed a finger to his lips thoughtfully. 'Does that mean that he, this 'God', controls *everything* we do?'

'Of course.' Ceadrath smiled. 'Why do you think I only decided to tell you this now, and up until now have been acting totally clueless? Not because I had no idea, but because I couldn't have said it even if I wanted to.'

'You make it sound like we're in a novel.' Azarak said skeptically.

'Not a novel.' Ceadrath shook his head. 'Just some trash a 19 year old with no life would write in his spare time.'

'That's good, right?'

'No. That's the worst kind.'

'Why?'

'Because I get the feeling that he knows all of us...' Ceadrath shuddered. 'And he's not going to be happy until one of us has a long, excruciatingly painful death, or he destroys us with some kind of horrific emotional trauma.'

'That's not going to happen Cead, not while I'm here.' Azarak reached out his hand to pat Ceadrath on the shoulder and reassure him. 'We're not going to die unless something suddenly happens out of nowhere. And that's bad writing, what kind of author would do something like that?'

'HEY!' Yelled a voice from behind them. 'AZARAK! YOU BASTARD!'

Everything happend in slow motion. Azarak whirled round, his long hair floating delicately through the air. Wakey was running directly at him, gun held forwards, finger pressing down on the trigger. Ceadrath let out a long, slow-motion cry, and tried to jump infront of Azarak.

'How dare you show your face around here again?' Wakey growled. 'You came into my Alliance, did a good job if I may so, and then fucking quit and left for another country? What the hell is wrong with you? I don't give a shit about your real life, this is my Alliance. Once you're in here, you're here to stay. You're fucking despicable scum!'

Azarak and Cead, who were still moving in slow motion due to some loophole in physics, tried to run. Wakey pulled down hard on the trigger while drawing a bead on Azarak.

• BANG*

The bullet whizzed through the air and slammed into Azarak's ass, blowing a huge meaty (and hairy) chunk out of it. Azarak yelled in pain and suddenly the slow motion stopped. Ceadrath took his chance and fired a whole clip at Wakey, adjusting his aim instantly after each shot caused the pistol to recoil.

Wakey's body jerked as one of the shots blew his left shoulder to pieces. Another bullet hit him in the chest as he was going down, glancing off his ribs and bursting out the side of his body. Wakey groaned in pain and fired his gun randomly as he went down, not caring where he aimed at all.

• BANG BANG BANG*

Beth, who was walking nearby with Vomit, suddenly let out a scream. A bullet whizzed through the air and exploded into Vomit's skull, blowing his head to pieces instantly. Maskaler, who had just had his homecoming party, walked directly into the path of another shot. It tore across the front of his torso, ripping his stomach open. His entrails flowed out like a bunch of snakes having a party, pooling on the ground beneath him. He tried to pick them up and put them back inside his body, but they were too slippery.

The third bullet had less luck. It zipped across the Docking Bay, apparently having no luck at finding a target, until it collided with Juice's beer can. Juice let out an angry roar as his beer exploded, spraying him and everyone nearby with the sticky fluid.

'Who the FUCK did that?' Juice growled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out another beer, along with a fully automatic machine gun. 'Nobody fucks with my drink and gets away with it.'

'Juice!' Markie ran up behind him and wrapped his arms around Juice's neck. 'Calm down baby, please. I'm sure it was just an accident.'

'An accident?' Juice grabbed Markie's arms and threw him to the ground. 'Somebody murdered an innocent beer, and you call that an accident?'

'It's just a beer!' Markie moaned, trying to get to his feet. As he sat up, his eyes came level with the barrel of the machine gun. 'What are you doing, Juice?'

'How dare you say it was just a beer.' Juice's eyes were devoid of emotion now. 'How dare you. That was little Jimmy.'

'You named your Beer?'

'Aye.'

'You're a fucking asshole, Juice.' Markie screamed at him. He grabbed the machine gun and threw it to the ground. 'You'll give your beer a name? A fucking beer? What about baby Juickie? Don't you care about him? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU'RE A FUCKING ALCHOLIC JUICE!'

Markie pulled his fist back and punched Juice in the face. Juice flew backwards, dropping his beer and colliding with a trash can. Rubbish flew everywhere as he hit it, bursting into the air like a flock of happy, albeit dirty, seagulls. Juice let out an animalistic growl and got to his feet. He held out his hands, ready to charge at Markie.

'You hit me...' Juice spat out a gob of blood. 'You actually hit me.'

'I'm tired of this shit, Juice!' Markie cried. His anger had been replaced with fear now, and he couldn't stop the tears that were flowing down his face. 'All these months of abuse... Every night I've cried myself to sleep, only to have you wake up and punch me in the face for making too much noise. All I wanted was to be happy with you. I thought we were good for each other, but... The drink means more to you than me....'

'It's not that...' Juice's anger faded away. 'I love you, Markie, the drink isn't more important to me.'

'THEN WHY THE HELL DO YOU KEEP DRINKING?' Markie pulled back his hand to slap Juice.

'Stop!' Juice grabbed Markie's hand by the wrist and held it there. The two of them were close together now, they're faces less than an inch apart. 'The drink has been controlling me... I used it to try and get over Juickie, but it didn't work. It turned me into a monster. I'm so, so sorry Markie...'

'It's too late for that. Nothing you can say can fix this.'

'You're right. Nothing I can say will fix it. But how about something I do?'

Juice grabbed Markie's head with both hands and kissed him deeply, pressing his lips hard against Markie's. His tongue flicked out, darting between Markie's lips, doing things Markie hadn't experienced in months. Markie let out a low moan and wrapped his arms around Juice, running his hands down his back.

'Oh god...' Markie gasped for breath. 'I love you Juice.'

'I love you too, Markie.' Juice kissed him again, longer this time. 'Now let's go find our baby.'

Meanwhile, Ceadrath and Azarak resumed the chase on Grif. He was too far ahead by now, though, and had already vanished. Anima ran back up to the two of them and swore angrily.

'Where the hell did you go?'

'We had a little bit of a diversion.' Ceadrath replied hastily.

'You could say that.' Azarak groaned, holding his blood-soaked ass in both hands.

'What happend to you Azzie?' Anima suddenly sounded concerned. He walked behind Azzie and placed his hands on his butt. Mmm, he thought, it's warm. 'Are you okay?'

'I'll be fine.' Azarak ground his teeth together as the pain hit him. 'It's only a flesh wound.'

'Good.' Anima replied. He made no attempt to move his hands, though. 'I'm glad you're OK.'

'Okay lover boys.' Ceadrath glared at Anima. 'Enough of the concern, it makes me sick. Azzie, I'd rather you'd died actually, but that's a story for another day. Shall we get going, now?'

Before he could say another word he was thrown to the ground, along with Anima and Azarak. A fighter jet screeched overhead, barely missing them by a couple of meters, and zoomed off into the distance. Azarak let out a cry as the afterburners set his hair on fire. Anima reacted quickly, batting on the flames with his bare hands until they went out.

'Fuck!' Azarak groaned. 'First my killer ass and now my girly locks!'

Although it wasn't readily apparent, Azarak seemed to be losing his composure. With every second, he was becoming more like the rest of them. He'd lost his reserve, his dignity, his capacity to stop swearing and also his long, girly locks. Azarak had noticed, but there was nothing he could do about it. Once F-Crew started you down that slippery slope, it was almost impossible to get back up to the top. He'd decided it would be easier to succumb to it.

'What the heck was that?' Ceadrath groaned, getting back to his feet.

In the distance, the tiny speck that was the fighter jet turned to face them. There was a soft, yellow glow in front of the fighter, followed by a muted BANG. Ceadrath's eyes widened as he realised what was happening. Like a pair of beautiful breasts, two very rounded missiles came into view, zooming across the Docking Bay. They were headed directly towards Ceadrath.

'Grif!' Ceadrath punched the palm of his hand. 'That fuckers going to kill us.'

Anima and Azarak whirled to face the missiles. They were coming closer now; moving faster every single second. F-Crew members and visitors alike screamed and ran out of their path, spreading apart like an ocean being split in two by some important religious figure who's name I can't be assed Googling. That sort of ruined the imagery, didn't it?

Ceadrath didn't waste a second. He grabbed Anima and Azarak and ran towards his personal fighter. It was called Zimwhore for reasons he didn't want to disclose. Ceadrath shoved the other two towards Azaraks fighter, the aptly named Girlyman, and then jumped into his own.

'Anima!' Ceadrath put on his helmet and shouted through the microphone. 'Get Azarak to take you back to the Battleship. We'll lure Grif there, and you can blow him to pieces.'

'Roger!' Azarak and Anima replied simultaneously.

The Girlyman took off, blasting out of the Docking Bay and into space. Ceadrath hit the starter switch for his fighter and took off, flying directly towards the incoming missiles. He grabbed the controls and rapidly hit a series of buttons. There was a tremendous roar as Zimwhore's miniguns fired, spewing thousands of bullets a minute. The missiles, being naturally unintelligent, didn't notice the oncoming onslaught and flew directly into it.

'Hah!' Ceadrath punched the air in triumph.

The missiles flew onwards, directly into the path of the minigun fire. Luckily for them, they were constructed out of extremely hardy material, and the bullets just bounced off. As Ceadrath tried to recover from the shock, they flew directly towards his fighter. Five, four, three, two, one...

'Shit!' Ceadrath threw his arms infront of his face, hoping against hope that the small gesture would somehow protect him.

• • • BBBAAAANNNGGG***

Fairy dust and brightly coloured streamers flew through the air, showering Zimwhore with a heavy coating of glitter. Little pieces of paper with the words 'Wheeee!' wrote on them fluttered through the air, happy to finally be let out of the confines of the missile chambers. Ceadrath couldn't think of anything to say or do. He was totally speechless. His jaw was hanging so low that he was afraid it would fall off.

'FUCK!' Grif punched the controls in his fighter's cockpit. 'I KNEW I shouldn't have asked GiR to make me some missiles. Shit!'

'Douche bag!' A voice sounded through the speakers.

'What the hell?' Grif glanced at the console.

'I patched into your radio frequency.' Ceadrath laughed. 'Fucking glitter dust? You're an idiot, Grif!'

'Fuck you!' Grif spat. 'The Scarecrow is NOT an idiot.'

'No, but Grif is.' Ceadrath laughed again and cut the connection.

Grif growled angrily and grabbed the controls. He engaged the thrusters and his fighter, the Douche Bag, burst into life, hurtling forwards towards Ceadrath. Ceadrath blinked in suprise; Grif's fighter was insanely fast, at least twice the speed of his. Zimwhore didn't stand a chance in direct combat. Grif opened fire with a quick flick of the controls, blasting off a stream of camply coloured laser beams at Ceadrath.

'Shit!' Ceadrath cried. He didn't know what to do, it was all happening so fast.

'Ceadrath...' A voice sounded over his intercom. It was Azarak. 'Do a barrel roll.'

Ceadrath nodded and jammed the controllers, barrel rolling Zimwhore to the side. The lasers streamed past and hit the wall, blowing a huge chunk in the side of the Docking Bay. Protective forcefields instantly covered the hole before any pressure could be lost. Grif flew past him and turned quickly, opening fire on Ceadrath from behind.

Azaraks voice sounded once again. 'Try a somersault!'

Ceadrath pulled back on the controls and Zimwhore shot into the air, performing a somersault. The lasers streamed past and traced a path of destruction across the floor, killing anyone they hit instantly. Dozens of people were slaughtered and explosions sounded everywhere. Huge clouds of smoke billowed into the air, obscuring the Docking Bay in a dark haze.

'Crap!' Grif cried. Ceadrath had completed his somersault and was now behind Grif's Douche Bag. 'He's good!'

'Argh!' Ceadrath fiddled with the controls. 'What now?'

'Ceadrath!' Azarak shouted at him. 'Never give up. Trust your instincts.'

Ceadrath gripped the controls with new found confidence and hit the afterburners. Zimwhore shot forwards through the air, firing it's whole arsenal at once. Grif tried to dodge, but he was too slow. A hail of minigun fire tore across his ship, riddling the surface with small holes. Through some miraculous twist of fate none of the internal machinery seemed to take any damage, although the same couldn't be said for the exterior of the ship. A lucky shot destroyed one of the left thrusters, blowing it to pieces. Grif lost control of the Douche Bag temporarily and crashed into the wall.

'Good work, Cead!' Azarak congratulated him. 'You're becoming more like your father.'

'You knew my father...?' Ceadrath asked, emotion filling his voice. He hadn't seen his father in years.

'Let's talk about that later.'

Zimwhore remained stationary with it's guns trained on Grif's Douche Bag. Within a few seconds, Ceadraths fighter was joined by Azarak in the Girlyman. Outside of the Docking Bay, Ceadrath could see the massive shape of the Hissy Fit coming closer. It floated through space slowly, a giant hulking mass that was so massive it had it's own small gravity field. As it came closer to the HQ a number of small discarded objects drifted towards the hull, amongst these were multiple used syringes and a large amount of condoms, most of which had been used by Juice and Markie.

'We've got him now, boys.' Anima said as he patched into their connection. 'Just lure him back to the ship and I'll finish him off. I have to admit, Cead, this was a pretty good plan.'

'Naturally.' Cead replied.

Grif shook his head violently; the crash had temporarily rendered him senseless. How was this possible, he thought, how could a bunch of nobodies be defeating the Scarecrow? This just couldn't happen, it violated the very laws of good-writing. The protagonist couldn't die, it was unheard of. He couldn't let this happen. He *had* to kill them. It would require a stunt so daring, so unbeliveable, so against the laws of physics that no one could survive it. His mind began formulating a plan and within seconds it was complete.

'This is it!' Grif grinned at his own reflection in the wing mirror. He'd added them just so he could see himself; they didn't actually let him see behind the ship. 'Time to end this once and for all.'

The Douche Bag launched, blasting off from where it had crashed. The jets from the thrusters burst against the ground, spewing flames in all directions. Laffen let out a shriek as he was caught in the inferno. Flames spread across his body, engulfing him in a roaring mass of searing pain. He ran around crazily, waving his arms wildly, hitting the ground and rolling to try and douse the fire.

'OH GOD IT HURTS!' Laffen managed to scream even though his whole throat was melting. 'OH JESUS!'

'Hey, Laffen,' Frye walked up to him. He had one arm upraised to shield himself from the flames. 'Can I get a JGP, please?'

'PUT ME OUT!! GOD IT HURTS!!'

'You want the coords or what?' Frye sounded irritated. 'I'm landing in one fucking tick, man.'

'FUCKING GET SOME WATER!!!' Laffen screamed, falling to his knees. 'SWEET JESUS CHRIST MOTHER OF GOD THIS IS THE WORST PAIN EVER!'

'You fucking scanners are all the same.' Frye sighed, turning to leave. 'You don't even give us the time of day. Fuck you.'

Laffen fell flat on his face as the flames consumed him. He tried one last time to cry for help, but his vocal cords had already been burned beyond recognition. Within seconds he was dead and forgotten. He was just a scanner, nobody cared. Although over the next few hours a couple of people still tried to ask his corpse for JGPs. When they received no reply, they pissed on his charred remains.

While all this was taking place, Grif boosted towards Ceadrath and Azzie. His ship zipped through the air like lightning; one second it was against the wall and the next it was right infront of them. The Zimwhore and Girlyman turned and fired their thrusters, heading at full speed towards the Docking Bay's exit. Grif growled. So they were running away, where they? Good thing their ships were so slow.

'Cead.' Azarak shouted over the intercom. 'He's too fast! I'll distract him, you go on ahead!'

'But Azzie, that's suicide!'

'I'll be fine, trust me.' Azarak had resumed his no-nonsense tone again. 'I'll only be a minute. Put a brew on for me, guv.'

'Make me a promise, Azzie.'

'Make it quick, he's on my ass faster than Juice after Markie.'

'You'll live to tell me about my father.' Ceadrath stifled his tears. The thought of his father brought back long dead memories.

'I can't keep that promise, but I'll try. Now go!'

'Promise me, damn you!'

But it was too late for promises. Grif's fighter hurtled infront of Azzie's and whirled to face it. Everything happend in an instant. The protective cockpit bubble of the Douche Bag flipped open and Grif jumped out. Even though both of the ships were still in mid flight, he managed to balance on the ships nose perfectly with just one leg. He pulled out a cigar and clenched it between his teeth, lighting it with unbeliveable skill. Grif leaped the distance between the two fighters easily and landed on all fours on the Girlyman, directly infront of Azarak's cockpit.

'Get out of here, Ceadrath!' Azarak screamed into the intercom. 'Save yourself!'

Grif pulled back his arm and punched through the cockpit, grabbing Azarak by the throat. He pulled him out forcefully, directly through the glass. There was a tremendous shattering sound as the glass exploded, bursting into thousands of pieces that quickly fell behind the two ships. Grif wrapped his arm around Azaraks neck and turned, just in time to come face to face with Ceadraths Zimwhore.

'Fuck!' Ceadrath punched the console in anger. 'I can't shoot him now, Azzies in the way!'

'Hahahahaha!' Grif laughed crazily. 'I'm so fucking audacious!'

Ceadraths finger hovered over the trigger. It inched closer and closer, steadily tensing... But Azarak's words resounded in his head. 'Get out of here, Ceadrath!' Indecision flickered throughout his mind. He was torn between killing Grif at the cost of his best friend, and running away. The chances were high that Grif was going to kill Azarak either way, so why shouldn't he kill them both right now? But... Azarak had told him to run. Could he really betray him?

'Mother fucker!' Ceadrath turned Zimwhore and headed towards the Hissy Fit. 'Why did you have to make this so hard? Goddamn you Azarak!'

As Grif watched Ceadrath retreat, he smiled with triumph. 'Stupid poxy bounty hunters.'

'Good work, Ceadrath.' Azarak whispered. 'You're becoming more like your father every day....'

Grif turned to face Azarak abrubtly. He had heard him whispering. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

'Nothing.'

'Tell me!' Grif roared, whacking Azarak across the face.

'Fuck you!' He swore.

Grif tightened his grip on Azarak's neck, squeezing the life out of him. For some reason Grif couldn't quite decipher, he'd been becoming more and more aggressive. No longer was he the calm, cool, collected badass Scarecrow. He seemed more like a villain now than anything. What was happening, was he losing his mind? Was all this death and destruction too much for his mind to take? Pah, nonsense. The Scarecrow could wade through a field of corpses and come out smiling. He was just that cool. Now that he'd gotten through that mental dillema, the Scarecrow decided to test his theory. Could he violently murder a mostly innocent man and not feel any guilt?

'Azzie, honey.' Grif whispered. 'It was nice knowing you, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you now.'

'Do your worst!' Azarak spat on Grif's face.

There was a rather horrible sizzling noise as Azarak's spit doused Grif's Cuban. Deciding that if he was going to die he might as well be extremely irritating first, Azarak proceed to spit on Grif's face again and again and again. Grif growled, he was getting pissed off now. Another gob of spit hit him, this time in the mouth. That was too much for Grif to take. With a scream of pure anger, Grif hurled Azarak off the side of the ship and towards the ground below.

Azarak's body hurtled through the air, falling slowly as if he were a rather well constructed paper airplane. His clothes billowed out around him, giving him the appearance of a particularily bulbous clown. Competing for visual appreciation were the remains of his once beautiful, albeit girly, locks of hair. They danced around majestically as the air ran through them, appearing to wave at Grif as Azarak's body sank closer and closer towards the ground. This whole magnificant display ended rather quickly, as within less than half a minute Azarak's body collided with the ground. Grif heard the impact from all the way up in the air, and it sounded so painful that even he had to wince.

'That'll teach you to mess with the Scarecrow.' Grif wiped the spit off his face and lit another Cuban.

Without further ado, Grif performed a triple backwards somersault and landed back in the cockpit of his Douche Bag. He closed the protective bubble of the cockpit and whirled the ship around to face the Hissy Fit. With a quick press of buttons, he was on his way to engage in the final battle with Anima. Only one of them would come out of this alive. And he knew it wasn't going to be Anima.

Meanwhile, down on the ground, Azarak was struggling for breath. The fall had smashed his ribs, pierced his lungs and shattered most of the bones in his body. He knew he didn't have long left to live. But, maybe, if there was a doctor around, they could at least ease his pain...

Lionne walked up to Azarak and glanced down at him. 'Hey man, are you okay? I saw you fall. Tbfh, that must hurt a lot, you don't look so good.'

'I'm not feeling so good either.' Azarak groaned, spitting out a gob of blood.

'Don't worry.' Lionne got down on his knees and brushed Azarak's charred hair off of his face. 'I'll get you some help, okay? I'm a nice guy, you're lucky you ran into me. What's your name?'

'I'm Azarak, Zimra's twin brother. You're Lionne, right?'

'Zimra's Twin?' Lionne cried, jumping to his feet. 'Fuck no!'

Lionne pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Azarak's head.

'But, I'm the nice one!' Azarak protested.

BANG

Azarak's head burst like a waterballoon thrown by a particularily ruthless bully against a teacher. Suffice it to say, it was very violent, as only such a ludicrous description could even begin to describe the event. Blood sprayed through the air, coating Lionne in a sheen of red, and chunks of brain flew across the ground. Although he was dead, Azarak's last thought was so powerful that it deserves to be mentioned.

I wish, he thought, that I could have seen my son one last time. Ceadrath... Make daddy proud....

Bet you thought Cead was Juickie, huh?

ETA 0 - F-Crew Command Room

Cm glanced up at the giant monitor that dominated the wall. It showed the outside of the F-Crew HQ in all it's rust-stained glory. The view came from a camera attached to a nearby Gayonium Asteroid (the source of Juices power), and afforded a rather wide tactical outlook of the HQ and nearby space. Visible today were some interesting features. The Hissy Fit was plane to see, being just to the side of the HQ itself. A nearby asteroid belt was also a good attention grabber, as it held within it GiR's infamous Gaydar. However, the more interesting sight today was not a pleasant one.

As Cm watched in disbelief, a massive Warpgate opened up nearby, disgorging thousands upon thousands of ships. They were everywhere, giving the appearance of a giant swarm of insects, a huge boiling mass that seemed to have a mind of it's own. Small fighters zoomed nimbly around the bigger, more bulky destroyers and battleships. The head battleship, a ship so massive it made the F-Crew HQ look like a pinhead, carried a massive flag made out of solar panels. Although the solar panels weren't particularily attractive, they did give the ship a little bit of extra power, *AND* they had been designed by Lawrence Llewelyn Bowen himself. The insignia on it was in the shape of a giant Wolfs head.

'Shit.' Cm cursed, not believing what he saw. 'It's the Wolfpack armada!'

Suddenly alarms began to ring throughout the HQ. The lights dimmed only to be replaced by some severly irritating flashing red strobe lights. Blood red flared against the wall, followed by darkness, then red again. Why the hell were emergency lights like that, Cm thought, they made it harder to fucking see!

---

WARNING: Gaydar Alert Class A

Subject: Wolfpack

Advice: Plug up your assholes!

---

'Attention F-Crew.' The voice of Wolfpack sounded, seeming to come from everywhere. 'Lay down your weapons and we won't hurt you. We are going to Fleet Catch your headquarters. You will be assimilated.'

'Fuck!' Cm swore again.

Suddenly the door burst open and Lionne came running inside, followed shortly by Wero. Seconds later, Blizz came in, panting in his strange cybernetic voice. He sounded like a tired, robotic puppy, and his ear looked very raw. Had he been rubbing it again?

Blizz took one look at the monitor and his eyes widened. '???'

'Wolfpack?' Lionne asked no one in particular. 'What are they doing here?'

'Apparently one of our members killed their entire visiting party.' Cm sighed. He sounded depressed; he always did. 'It looks like they're out for revenge.'

'We have enough problems of our own,' Wero commented, 'without Wolfpack interfering. Wakey already tried to kill me!'

'Uh huh.' Lionne waved his hand dismissively. 'And if you say Candy Man three times infront of a mirror, Zimra will come out to get you. I've heard it all, tbfh, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of everything.

'Shut up, both of you.' Cm said, but without much enthusiasm. 'We need to work on a plan.'

'Well...' Lionne looked at Cm. 'You're the military head HC. Any ideas?'

'Let's shoot a bunch of missiles at them!' Cm grinned suddenly. 'Lots of them! Big spikey ones!'

'That's your plan?'

'And bombs too! Don't forget bombs!'

Lionne sighed and shook his head sadly. How the hell had Cm ever gotten to be the head of Military? He didn't know the difference between a sandwich and a nuclear missile. With Cm in charge, they were all doomed. Wolfpack would destroy them in seconds. Not for the first time that day, Lionne began to wonder why he joined F-Crew in the first place. They were all so useless, so annoying, so... Gay.

'Candy man...' Wero whispered.

Lionne turned, torn from his reverie at the mention of that name. 'Stop, Wero! You idiot!'

'Candy man...' Wero was staring straight into a mirror. 'Candy...'

Lionne broke into a run and tried to cross the distance between the two of them. He couldn't let Wero finish the chant!

'....Man!' Wero smiled.

Lionne crashed into Wero and the two of them flew to the ground. Wero groaned and tried to push Lionne off of him, but Lionne was far too heavy. Lionne reared back his hand and slapped Wero full on.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?' Lionne screeched. 'You idiot! You fucking moron! You'll kill us all!'

'Hey!' Wero complained. 'Nothing happend! Get your fat ass off of me!'

'Alright, ladies.'

Both of them turned at the same time. Standing infront of the mirror was a familiar figure. His long, dark hair cascaded down his back like an oily waterfall, shimmering as the light hit it. Gazing upon his face was a lesson in terror; his rougish scottish looks and bushy facial hair were enough to scare off even the most hardened of men. In his hand he held a still-beating heart; flesh blood squirted out of it periodically as it slowly died.

'???' Blizz moaned as he sank to his knees. The gaping hole in his chest was clear for all to see.

'How did he move so fast?' Lionne gasped.

'I'm just that sexy.' Zimra flicked his long hair back over his shoulder and winked.

'God...' Wero ran to the corner of the room and threw up violently.

'You're not helping, guys.' Cm sighed. 'If we can't stop WP destroying us, at least pick some Gal's for tonights attack ffs.'

'How can we go on an attack if we're dead?' Lionne asked while backing away from Zimra.

'I'm the head of Military here, not you.' Cm retorted. 'You'll do whatever the hell I say.'

'We'll see about that!' A voice yelled.

The doors to the command room slid open and a familiar looking figure stumbled inside. His left shoulder was torn to shreds, and blood oozed out of a horrendous hole in the side of his chest. His face was creased with insanity and a constant grin flickered across his face. In his hand he gripped a pistol tightly, which he was already drawing up to fire at Cm.

'Wakey!' Cm smiled, totally oblivious like always. 'You come to help me set up the defence?'

BANG

Wakey fired without hesitation. Cm took a bullet to the chest and flew over backwards, somersaulting gracelessly into the giant view screen. He smashed into it and the glass of the screen shattered, raining glass shards all over his body. A particularilly sharp and huge piece of glass fell between his legs and instantly severed his cock and testicles. Cm sat bolt upright in shock and pain and opened his mouth to scream. Bang! Wakey fired again. The bullet zoomed through the air and smashed through Cm's teeth, flying directly down his throat and exploding out of the back of his head. Cm let out a groan and fell face first onto the ground, clawing at the back of his head to try and close the wound.

'You're a fucking useless head of Military, Cm. Why the hell did I put up with you for so long? You fucking insolent curr of a man, I can't believe I let you run loose in my Alliance for all this time. I should have killed you years ago when I had the chance. How dare you even act like those bullets hurt you, when you've been hurting me with your fucking incompetance all these years?'

Cm struggled to his feet, blood oozing down his back in huge streams, and reached for his belt. Wakey followed the motion and opened fire. The first bullet struck Cm's right hand and tore it in two, spraying blood everywhere. One of his fingers flew into the air and, comedically, gave Wakey the finger. Wakey roared with anger and fired again, shooting Cm in the chest. Cm was knocked over backwards again, this time with even more force, and flew into the wall with a loud crash. His body rebounded and hit the ground, leaving a disgusting wet stain against the wall.

'Stop!' Lionne grabbed Wakey's hand and tried to wrestle the gun from him.

Wakey pistol whipped Lionne in the face, knocking him out cold, and returned his aim to Cm. Cm was on his feet again, slowly shambling towards Wakey. Even though he'd lost a hand, the back of his head, his genitals and had two holes in his chest, Cm just kept on coming. Wakey fired again, emptying the whole clip into Cm in rapid succession. The bullets thudded into his body, blowing his chest to pieces, spreading blood and gore everywhere.

'Fuck...' Cm moaned, falling onto his hands and knees. 'You got me, buddy...'

Wakey sighed and reloaded. Why was this man so hard to kill? He drew careful aim on Cm's skull and pressed the trigger once more.

• BANG*

Cm's head burst like a happy firework, spraying outwards in all directions, his skull making an audible crack that was comparable to the breaking of a very small nut. This time Cm collapsed and didn't get up again. He looked dead. Wakey walked over and kicked his body. Nothing. He didn't move. For good lucks sake, he emptied the rest of the clip into Cm's lifeless body.

'Fucking foolish cunt.' Wakey growled and laughed simultaneously. 'You'll pay for abusing my Alliance. They'll all pay.'

He switched his aim to Lionne and pulled the trigger.

• CLICK*

'Shit.' Wakey tried to reload the gun, but he was out of ammo. 'Double shit! I'll be back, you insolent fucks, don't think you can leave. You agreed to play the whole round!'

He let out an insane cackle and skipped out of the room.

'Jesus...' Lionne gasped, taking in the scene. Blood was everywhere; on the floor, walls, dripping off the ceiling. 'Tbfh, I thought I was a goner.'

'Me too.' Wero looked around warily. 'Hey... Where did Zimra go?'

'I have no idea.'

The two of them stood there staring blankly at the carnage. Blizz's body jerked periodically as random electric currents pulsed through it but otherwise everything was still. A deep sense of calm prevaded their senses, in total contrast to their stark surroundings. Perhaps they were in shock?

'Let's get out of here.' Wero headed towards the door.

'Tbfh, I couldn't have said it better myself.'

ETA 0 - A locked closet

Imperial smiled. Everything was falling into place. The board was set and all the pieces were ready. It was time to make the final move; Checkmate. Imperial got to his feet and unlocked the closet door. He spared Kalos one final look. He could leave her here, she was no threat to him. She'd never get untied, anyway. Picking up his toaster, Imperial finally came out of the closet and into the big wide world.

Meanwhile, Kalos was struggling to get free. She was incredibly pissed off. How dare someone like Imperial treat her like this? Tieing her up? She could stand that from Zimra, sure, but not a jackass like Imperial. He deserved to die by her hands. She shuffled up against the wall and felt out with her hands for any kind of object. Her fingers brushed up against the sharp edge of a low shelf and she started to rub her bonds against it.

Within minutes she was free, and she quickly ripped the gag off of her mouth and untied her legs. Freedom!

'Mother fucker.' Kalos growled angrily. She looked around for a weapon and was plesantly suprised. The cupboard was actually a weapons storage area. Picking up a pistol, she headed for the door. 'Fucking mother uncle fucker.

She left the closet, although not for the same reasons as Imperial, to her it was just a doorway, and headed into the corridor. Ignoring her acheing limbs, she ran as fast as she could directly towards the Docking Bay. What met her was a sight too horrible to comprehend immediately. The Docking Bay was in flames. Scorch marks littered the floor and walls and smoked filtered high into the air, pooling underneath the ceiling. People ran back and forth in confusion, screaming their heads off. From outside a swarm of laser shots fired into the Docking Bay, wreaking destruction throughout. The whole place was collapsing, electricty arced through the air and the lights dimmed as another shot took it's toll.

'What the fuck is going on?' Kalos grabbed a man who was running past and pointed her gun in his face.

'It's W-Wolfpack! They're attacking!'

Another lucky shot flew through the entrance and collided with a parked Destroyer. The whole thing went up instantly, blown to pieces with one hit. It split in half in slow-motion, wreaking death and destruction as it crashed into the ground, setting off even more explosions as other ships were caught beneath it's shifting bulk.

BOOM

'Shit!' Kalos cried. She was thrown off her feet as the Destroyers reactor exploded.

The lights went out as Kalos impacted against the wall. She dropped her gun and moaned in pain. All that could be seen was the flickering of the fires that were all throughout the Docking Bay. They cast crazy shadows as people ran past, trying desperately to escape or to reach the escape pods. Kalos searched around for her gun and, seconds later, found it. It had landed under a pillow somehow. How a pillow had gotten in there in the first place was a mystery for another day.

She got back to her feet and looked around warily. The lights flickered back on, revealing the devastation once more. She tried to ignore it and headed through the Docking Bay, searching for Imperial. As she walked, she noticed a familiar figure lieing on the ground to her right. Something clicked in her mind.

'Entropy.' Said said his name in a cold, almost dead tone. She poked him with her foot to see if he was still alive.

'Hello?' Entropy looked up obliviously. His eyes were caked shut with blood and he still couldn't hear anything. 'Is someone there? Hello? Help me... Please...'

'I'm going to enjoy killing you.' She grinned evilly. Her eyes shone red as she drew the gun up to his head.

'It hurts so much...' He moaned, coughing up blood. It splattered onto the ground in front of him, an abysmally small amount. 'Please, help me. Are you still there? I can't take this anymore... It hurts worse than a bunch of Beth-Crewers anally raping me with a bunch of un-lubed dildos.'

The gun wavered in her hand as his pathetic moans drifted into her ears. Although, it wasn't because she felt sorry for him, she just enjoyed pretending she did. It made it all the more enjoyable.

'Can you find my mummy?' Entropy started to cry. 'Mummy? It hurts Mum, little Entropy is hurt. Help me Mummy, help your little boy, oh God, I think I'm dying.'

Kalos smiled. She was enjoying listening to his pathetic moaning. The bastard deserved it, especially after insulting her intelligence twice. Nobody got away with that and lived; not on Kalos's watch.

'Mother...' Entropy moaned in agony. 'I can't believe I was so stupid... I'm dumber then Kalos when she... Well... I don't need a metaphor for that, I'm just dumber than her... And that's saying something... Oh god, this hurts...'

Kalos growled angrily and rushed Entropy. She grabbed him forcefully and flipped him over onto his back. In one swift movement she ripped his shirt off and drew a knife from her boot. She hadn't actually concealed the knife there, she'd just misplaced it. She placed one hand on Entropy's forhead to hold him steady, then delicately sliced his chest open. Entropy screamed with pain and tried to sit up, but she held him down. Using her free hand, she pulled the flesh of his chest apart, revealing the insides of his body.

'OOOOOH GODDDDDDDDD!!!!!!' Entropy screamed. The pain was so intense, so horrible, so mind crushingly fucking painful that he couldn't even think of a word to describe it.

Kalos ran her fingers round the inside of his chest and poked his heart. Entropy cried and bit down on his lips so hard that his teeth burst through them. Enough is enough, Kalos thought. She placed the gun against his heart, shielded her face with her arm, and fired.

• BANG*

Entropy's whole body jerked spazmodically as blood gushed into the air. He managed to yell one last sentence before his body died on him.

'This story is worse than an F-Crew galaxy raid!'

Then he was dead. Kalos wiped her bloody hands clean on the remains of Entropies shirt and set off in search of Imperial. He had to be around here somewhere...

ETA 0 - Carld's Room

Calrd lay back on his bed and sighed happily. He'd managed to escape the turmoil in the Docking Bay and retreat safely to his room. Although the whole HQ was shaking and rocking with explosions, he didn't care. He was happy. He'd got what he wanted. Beth rolled over in bed next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back. Heh, Carld thought to himself, fuck you Rob, the bitch is mine now.

'was that as good for u as it was for me' Beth queried him.

'Yeah.' Carld grinned. 'That was quite a workout, Beth. I didn't know you could stretch like that.'

'it s a talent.' She beamed, happy at the compliment.

'How do you feel like going for it again?' He sat up in bed and stretched. He was feeling very energetic.

'no thank u cardl i think i am done for day.'

'Awww, that's a shame.' Carld sighed unhappily.

Carld picked up the TV remote and switched off the exercise video. He'd spent the past half hour with Beth going over the various different exercise positions, and seeing her bending and stretching had given him a rather urgent problem. He pulled the cover over himself to try and conceal his stiffy. The cover did an admirable job; there wasn't much to cover up in the first place.

'So, Beth, can I ask you something?'

'u can ask me anythin'

'Do you have a boyfriend? I find it hard to imagine a beautiful woman like you could be single.' He flashed her his most charming smile.

'no i am single'

'Really? Why?'

'i don knwo 2 many people dun liek me.' She sighed. Then she looked at his face, and her eyes widened. 'omg cardl ur hair is so beautfil can i touch it?'

She reached out her hand and Carld slapped it away. 'Don't touch me there!' He growled. He loved his precious hair, almost as much as his Sketchers, and hated anyone touching it.

'omg i r so sorri' She drew her hand back and tears flooded her eyes.

'Wait!' Carld grabbed a hold of her hand. He suddenly felt incredibly guilty. 'You may touch it. I wouldn't let anyone else but you put your hand there.'

'thank u so much.' She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. 'omg it is so soft and beautiful i lov cock'

'Thank yo- You what?' Carld suddenly asked, astonished. Had this beautiful, quiet, serene woman just said she loved cock? Was it possible that such vulgarity could come out of her mouth?

'i lov cock i want to feel ur hard cok in my-'

Suddenly the door to Carld's room burst open. Carld jumped to his feet quickly and picked up his pistol from the dresser. He pointed it at the door, not even caring who was there. As he drew up his aim he came face to face with Rob. Rob was also aiming a pistol at him, his shoulders tensed in a firing position. The two of them stood there, staring at each other, menace painting both their faces in an ugly snarl.

'Carld...' Rob growled.

'Carld...' Carld growled. 'I mean: Rob...'

'I think it's time we ended this.'

'I think so too.' Carld nodded. 'Once and for all.'

'now now boys u r my boys dun fite okay i dun want either of u to get hurt rob carld stop at once beth doesn't like u fightin'

'Beth, stay out of this.' Rob said, keeping his gun trained on Carld.

'no i will not i am tierd of always bein on the sidelines i want to do somethin i dun want this to happen.'

'Shut up!' Rob yelled. 'Me and Carld are going to have it out, once and for all.'

'Stay out of this Beth.' Carld warned her. 'I don't want to see you get hurt, okay?'

'u cant do this' Tears dripped down her cheeks.

'We fire at the count of three.' Carld grinned.

'That sounds good to me.'

One... Calrd squinted, peering down the length of his gun at Rob's skull. It would be almost impossible to miss, Rob had a pretty big head. His broken nose was like a big target marker.

Two... Rob held the pistol sideways, gangsta-style

Three... Footsteps sounded down the hallway.

'You insolent cur!' Wakey growled.

• BANG*

Rob's head seemed to fly off his shoulders as if by magic. It burst in two in mid-air, showering the room with a spray of bright red blood. His body slumped over, leaking blood all over the carpet. Wakey entered the room and quickly pointed his gun at Carld. Carld wasn't in the mood to die, though, and he fired quickly. Bang! Wakey took a slug to the chest and flew backwards, stumbling into the door and slamming it closed. Without missing a beat, Wakey returned fire, shooting Carld square between the eyes.

'You fucking haughty supercilious overbearing prick!' Wakey growled, practicing his Synonyms.

Suprisingly, Carld's head failed to explode, burst, be blown in two, pop like a balloon or a watermelon. He just slid to the floor quietly and curled into a ball, dying within seconds.

'omg look wat u did' Beth screamed, running first to Rob's body and then to Carlds. 'why god why'

'You...' He aimed the gun at her. 'You fucking... Beautiful woman!'

ETA 0 - Hissy Fit - Main Bridge

The main bridge of the Hissy Fit was a simple affair. It consisted mainly of a large montor, a single computer and a very comfortable looking chair that came complete with a foot massager and built-in speakers. It also had a hole in the seat that ejected a lubricated steel shaft, but Anima liked to keep that part secret.

'Damage report!' Anima yelled.

'Anima.' Ceadrath stared at him, clearly unimpressed. 'Did you forget that we're the only two crew members?'

'Er... I just wanted to sound cool.' He stammered. 'But I did hire an extra crew member.'

'That he did!' Desert Fag skipped into the room cheerfully. He was dressed in a nifty pink ensemble that didn't leave much up to the imagination, apart from his sexuality.

'Say hello to Mr Fag, Ceadrath.' Anima smiled.

'Fuck this shit.' Ceadrath looked absolutely disgusted. 'I do ass, but not on a guy.'

The second he finished his sentence the whole ship rocked as an explosion tore through one of outer bulkheads. Outside of the ship, an army of fighters swarmed around it like bee's around a hive. The Wolfpack armada had opened fire on the Hissy Fit shortly after arriving and hadn't let up since. Although most of their guns didn't pack enough punch to detonate the armor of the Hissy Fit, their ships could. The Wolfpack commander, getting bored with their lack of progress, periodically ordered the amassed fighters to do suicidal rams into the Battleship.

'For Allah!' Screamed a Wolfpack soldier, switching his engines to full.

The small fighter screamed through space, slamming into the small hole the last explosion had created. His ship crumpled the second it touched the Hissy Fit and exploded violently, creating a very visually impressive explosion compared to the minor amount of damage it did. Regardless, the Battleship still rocked and swayed at the impact.

'We're taking minor damage.' Desert Fag reported. 'And I've got a major hardon.'

'Fuck this shit.' Ceadrath shot Fag an angry look. 'I can't stand being anywhere near this fucking queer.'

Suddenly an alarm sounded. The Hissy Fit's outer sensors had detected a rapidly approaching object. Anima flicked a button on the console and the view screen focused on it. The 'approaching object' in question was a rather sleek looking fighter with an apparently damaged left thruster. The ship veered wildly from side to side as it approached, although it still managed to keep up a decent speed.

'Another suicide attack?' Anima looked uninterested.

'Shit.' Ceadrath groaned. 'It's Grif.'

ETA 0 - Outer Space

Grif manuvered his ship expertly, easily bypassing the ranks of Wolfpack fighters. When he felt like it, he unleashed a volley of laser fire, destroying dozens of ships at a time. They didn't stand a chance, any fire they aimed at him missed drastically and blew their friends to pieces. After about a minute, they'd learned just not to shoot at him at all.

'Fucking pansies.' Grif fired again, blowing up a large Destroyer with an incredibly lucky shot. It blew up in seconds; he'd somehow managed to hit it's central-reactor with only one shot. He tilted the controls, allowing his fighter to ride on the shockwave. 'How did these guys dominate the Galaxy?'

As he aimed the Douche Bag towards the Hissy Fit, a small object caught his eye. It was shaped like a fighter and was heading straight towards him. Something clicked in his mind. The ship looked familiar. It was... Zimwhore! Ceadrath was coming to intercept him!

'Mother fucker!' Ceadrath growled, gripping the controls so hard that he feared they may snap. 'You'll pay for what you did to Azarak!'

'Heh.' Grif grinned, flicking on his intercom. 'Ceadrath, we meet again.'

'The pleasure is all yours, I assure you. I was hoping I'd never have to run into your ugly face again.'

'Big words for a guy with such a small dick.' Grif taunted him. 'By the way, I have something to relay from your friend Azarak. You see, after I threw him to his death, something fell out of his pocket. Using my supernatural reflexes I caught it before it fell, naturally, and gave it a quick look over.'

'What are you talking about?'

Their two ships were drawing closer now. Ceadrath reacted immediately, opening fire with his quadruple miniguns and multi-cluster missile pods. A huge barrage of fire streamed from his tiny fighter, heading straight towards the Douche Bag. Somehow, unbeliveably, Grif dodged the entire attack which must have consisted of at least 500 projectiles alone. But he escaped unscathed, without even so much as a scratch on his ship. Grif reacted in kind, firing off a single laser beam. It flew through space with uncanny accuracy and sliced off the right wing of Ceadrath's Zimwhore.

'Arghh!' Ceadrath cried as his fighter spun out of control. 'You lucky bastard!'

'It's not luck.' Grif flashed him a grin as he zoomed past. 'It's skill.'

'You're such a fucktard!'

'Heh. Would your dad like you using such foul language?'

'My... My dad?'

'Yes. You see, the tape I found on Azarak's body was rather revealing in some respects.'

'What are you talking about?' Ceadrath regained control of Zimwhore and pulled a tight circle, facing the Douche Bag once more.

'Here, why don't you listen for yourself.' Grif slotted the tape into a little player in the cockpit.

'Hello.' It was Azarak's voice. He sounded sad and distracted as if he were deep in thought. 'If you're reading this tape, I'm probably dead. Or you snuck into my room and took it out of my sock drawer... Anyway, chances are I'm dead. Or I got a new maid to change my socks.'

'Let me fast forward this bit,' Grif said hastily, 'It goes on for a long time.'

'What the hell is this?' Ceadrath shouted. 'Azarak's dead! Where the hell did you get this?'

'I told you. It fell out of his pocket.' Grif stopped fast-forwarding and hit play again.

'Anyway. You can be pretty sure I'm dead. Now, onto the more important matters. I don't have much to leave behind, unfortunately, as I spend most of my money on my friend, Ceadrath. This is where it gets complicated. You see, he's not my friend.... He's my son. Ceadrath, son, I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry you never got to know your mother, or your father. I just want you to know I love you. It's been so hard, looking at you all these years, not being able to say what's on my mind-'

'WHAT???' Ceadrath screamed. 'AZARAK IS MY FATHER? HOW IS THAT FUCKING POSSIBLE? I'M OLDER THAN HE IS!'

'You see, Ceadrath.' Azarak continued, oblivious to Ceadraths remarks. He was just a tape recording, after all. 'The second my wife gave birth to you, I had to be frozen. My brother... Well, I don't know about him. He died twenty years ago. I don't know who he is now... Someone is masquerading as my brother... Or my brother was as someone else. I've been lied to by him my whole life and, when it hit me, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to freeze myself. I'm sorry, my Son. I loved my brother more than anything, and I just couldn't bear the pain when he left me...'

'YOU WHAT? THAT'S THE SHITTIEST EXCUSE FOR FREEZING YOURSELF I'VE EVER HEARD! WHO THE FUCK CAME UP WITH THIS STUPID SHIT? YOU'RE MAKING THIS UP GRIF! THIS IS THE MOST RETARDED THING I'VE EVER HEARD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!'

'I love you, my son.' Azarak sighed. 'With all my heart.'

'THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE-' Ceadrath suddenly cut himself off. It suddenly all did make perfect sense. His mind flashed back to a conversation he'd had with Azarak early. Something he'd said tugged at the corner of his mind.

- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 'Because I get the feeling that he knows all of us...' Ceadrath shuddered. 'And he's not going to be happy until one of us has a long, excruciatingly painful death, or he destroys us with some kind of horrific emotional trauma.' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -

'You!' Ceadrath pointed menacingly into the vast distances of space. 'You're doing this to me! My life was absolutely fine until today! You evil fucking God! How dare you do this to me?'

'What the heck are you babbling about?' Grif switched off the tape player.

'Stop it now! Put my life back to normal! I didn't want any of this to happen! What the hell did I do to deserve this?'

'He's gone insane.' Grif grinned. 'Just like I'd planned.'

'Grif, stay out of this.' Ceadrath warned him. 'I'm not in the mood.'

Grif shrugged off the warning and opened fire again. A series of laser beams shot out the front of Douche Bag, heading directly towards Ceadraths Zimwhore. Zimwhore was sliced to pieces. The lasers cut it into shreds, bursting through the hull and shooting out the other side. In less than a second the ship was reduced from a sleek fighting machine to a hulking wreck. Quickly, Ceadrath hit the ejector seat button, and was boosted into outer space. Zimwhore exploded only seconds later, and the shockwave hurled Ceadrath deep into space.

'I hope he was wearing a space suit.' Grif muttered.

ETA 0 - F-Crew Docking Bay

Imperial strode through what remained of the crowds, indiscriminately killing people as he walked. Fireballs hurtled from his outstretched arms, slamming into anyone who got too close, blowing them to cinders in an instant. Energy radiated out from him, singing the very floor as he walked .All the death and destruction was giving him power. His toaster was in fact a cleverly designed magical device...

'Stop him!' Yelled a man from the F-Crew security force.

He rushed Imperial with a group of around a dozen men. They were all holding netguns, and they fired them simultaneously. The heavy nets flew outwards as if hurled by very energetic spiders and covered Imperial effortlessly. Imperial looked at them and let out a low, menacing growl.

'I cannot be caged!' Imperial yelled, throwing his arms backwards. The nets were vaporised instantly as a wave of arcane power rushed outwards from his body. 'I cannot be controlled!'

The security force broke rank and turned to run. Imperial pulled out a pair of pistols, just for the fun of it, and gunned them down without a second thought. Their bodies hit the ground hard, spraying blood, brains and guts everywhere. He reloaded quickly and shot them all again, just to be sure.

Overhead a pair of Wolfpack fighter jets zoomed into the Docking Bay. They flew around like happy birds, firing their deathly loads indiscriminately. People where cut down by the dozen as brightly coloured laser beams sliced through bone and flesh alike. Imperial smiled and raised his hand to the fighters. They stopped suddenly in mid air as if grabbed by an invisible hand. Imperial clicked his fingers and suddenly the fighters moved, flying into a wall at the speed of sound.

• BOOM*

The fighters exploded violently, sending a shower of burning debris to rain over the Docking Bay. Imperial threw back his arms and laughed; this was too easy. No one could offer him any resistance. Why had he waited so long to do this, again? Ah, because he needed enough people around to kill. The more people who died, the stronger he became...

With a sadistic grin, Imperial continued his tour of the docking bay, ruthlessly slaughtering anyone who crossed his path.

ETA 0 - Outer Space

Grif continued his advance on the Hissy Fit, easily out manuervering the less-agile Wolf Pack fighters. No matter how many missiles they fired at him, even homing ones, they could never hit their mark. Grif grinned; it felt great to be invincible. He was letting the power get to his head, but he didn't care. Nobody could beat the Scarecrow!

As he approached, all the guns on the Hissy Fit revolved to face him. They fired in unison, over 100,000 laser beams in total, creating an almost impenetrable screen. Somehow, via the luck of the God's, Grif manuvered Douche Bag through the fire, and approached the outer hull of the Hissy Fit.

'Shit!' Anima kicked the controls. 'He's right next to us! We're fucked!'

'It's only one man.' Fag pointed out.

'You don't know how powerful he is.' Anima let out a string of curse words. 'My beautiful ship is going to be destroyed! Shit!'

'You're overexaggerating hun.' Fag laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 'Nobody could destroy your ship.'

The whole ship shook as a huge explosion rocketed through it. Anima lost his balance and fell off his chair, landing hard on the ground. Desert Fag slipped, too and his head landed on Anima's fancy chair. Sparks flew out of the walls and circuits shorted, including the ones in the chair. Suddenly all of it's mechanisms went off at once. The foot massager started to vibrate, the speakers began to play 'Like a Virgin' and the steel shaft shot out from the base of the seat. Fag didn't even have a chance to scream as the shaft burst through his ear and into his brain, killing him instantly.

'Oh well.' Anima got to his feet and brushed himself off. 'No big loss. I better head for the escape pods. Knowing Grif, he's already figured out how to destroy this thing.'

Grif indeed had figured it out. It was so cunning, so sneaky, so absolutely devilish that he daren't even think it lest someone else steal the idea. Regardless, he'd already set it in motion, and the Hissy Fit now had a very limited lifespan indeed.

A minute later, the Hissy Fit erupted in a huge blaze of light. The ship blew burst into pieces, first the front came lose, then the back section tore in half. Explosions raced across it's surface, blowing huge chunks of metal out into space. The Wolfpack fighters who were too close to escape stared in shock. They didn't know what to do, but they knew they were going to die. It was a horrible, horrible feeling.

Seconds passed before the Hissy Fit's hyper-something-or-other reactor exploded. Everything seemed to stand still, all time stopped and nobody breathed. Space was sucked inwards for a second, converging on one single point. A single glimmer of light revealed the end. Space rebounded, bursting outwards at a terrifiying speed, sending shockwaves in all directions. A massive cicrcular explosion formed, spreading as rapidly as the shockwaves did. Anyone within a considerable distance was intirely annhilated. Nothing was left, just an area of space with no ships, no debris, no nothing.

Empty space.

ETA 0 - Markies Bedroom

'Oh shit!' Markie moaned, throwing his head back. His body was dripping with sweat, his muscles twinging with spazams of pleasure.

'Markie my love!' Juice gripped him tightly, pulling him closer, pressing their warm bodies together. 'Make love to me like you fucking need it more than you need to breathe!'

'I will! I need you more than anything!'

'Then show me with your-'

The room shook violently and the lights went out as a huge object tore through the wall. It burst into the center of the bedroom, hanging limpy from the roof like Markie's now un-erect cock. The lights flickered back on momentarily and the strange object was revealed in all it's glory. It was an escape pod, a rather phallic shaped one at that, and bore the name: Hissy Fit #25. With a violent hissing and outpouring of steam, the pod split in half. Anima popped out, falling heavily onto the ground.

'Damn that was a rough ride.' He shook his head violently to clear his vision. 'I should have put some cushions in that thing.'

'Oh my God...' Markie gasped.

'It's...' Juice whispered.

Anima heard the voices and turned to look. His eyes opened wide with shock. 'Juice... Markie...'

'Juickie...' They both said in unison. 'Baby Juickie...'

'Dad...? Dads...?'

'Son!'

They both ran forwards and embraced him, wrapping their arms around him and hugging him tightly. Tears flowed freely; they were all so happy to be reunited. After so long, their dear sweet Baby Juickie was back with them. Oh, it was too good to be true. What a happy day!

'Found you!' Wakey cried as he kicked the door open. It flew off it's hinges and slammed into Anima/Juckie, knocking him onto his back. 'You fucking homosexual bastards. How dare you practice your butt-sex and use your anal beads in my Alliances head quarters? You sully the good name of F-Crew, you fucking fags.'

'Wakey!' Juice jumped to his feet. 'What's wrong with you, man?'

'You insolent cur.' Wakey leveled his gun at Juice and fired.

Juice took a hit directly in the heart. It was a sad thing to happen. After his heart had healed from so many years of torment, all it took was a simple bullet to tear it in two again. Juice was flung head over heels backwards and smashed into the wall, knocking an assortment of framed pictures off of their hooks. They came clattering down at the same time Markie screamed, causing a deafening onslaught of the senses. Markie screamed very shrilly, you see, just like a girl.

'JUICE!!' Markie screamed, running over to his body. 'Juice! Baby!'

'Markie...' Juice coughed. He was only staying alive due to superhuman effort. 'Save... Juickie for me...'

'I will.' He took hold of Juice's hand. 'I promise I will.'

'You think your emotional scene holds any power over me at all?' Wakey laughed. 'I won't even let you finish it. This story has gone on for too long. The story of F-Crew is at an end. You have destroyed my Alliance just like you've destroyed each others anal passages.'

Wakey opened fire, riddling Markies back with bullets. They burst through his soft, fat flesh, shattering his spine and tearing his insides to shreds. A couple of them passed all the way through him and flew straight into Juice's head, shattering his skull into pieces. The two of them collapsed on top of each other, dead as they could be, but still keeping their lovers embrace until the end. Man love knew no bounds.

Wakey walked over to Anima and kicked the door from on top of him. 'Any last words, you son of a queer?'

'Just do it.' Anima sighed. His whole world was over, everything he'd loved was gone. Azarak, Ceadrath, his Battleship, his temporary love affair with Desert Fag and now his parents, too. 'I have nothing left to live for.'

'You think you're going to make me guilty by saying that?' Wakey let out another laugh. 'You stupid, insolent cur.'

• BANG*

Anima screamed and tensed, ready for the bullet to tear through his flesh. But nothing happend. He looked up at Wakey and his eyes widened in amazement. Where Wakey's head usually was, there was nothing left anymore. Only his neck still stood, jetting blood to alarming heights. Wakeys body toppled to the ground next to Anima, limp and dead. His killing spree was over.

'What the hell...?' Anima asked out loud.

'i saved u' Beth smiled at him. 'i could not let him kill anymore'

'But...' Anima got to his feet. 'Why didn't you save my parents?'

'i coud not figure out how to get the saefty off' She motioned towards the gun she was carrying, 'it is very complecate'

'Thank you Beth.' He patted her on the head. 'You did well. Now come with me.'

He took her hand and led her out the room, towards the Docking Bay.

ETA 0 - F-Crew Docking Bay

Sakato peeked out from behind the crate he was hiding behind. So much was going on that he'd chosen to hide instead of stay in the open. Who knew when the other Sakato's might attack. He didn't even know how many there were left, either. They could be everywhere...

Out of nowhere he heard a huge explosion. It jolted his body to the very core and almost deafened him. The crate he was hiding behind was blown to pieces as a shockwave hit it, covering Sakato's body with splinters. He gasped as he realised the cause. A huge Frigate had crash landed in the center of the Docking Bay. It was riddled with multiple holes, with more still appearing every second. A small figure infront of it was hurling what appeared to be fireballs in it's general direction. As each one hit they blew a chunk out of the Frigates armor, causing an explosive outburst of debris and flames.

'Hahahaha!' Imperial laughed. 'Your puny ships can't stop me!'

Sakato gaped openly. Imperial was amazingly powerful. He could destroy a Frigate all on his own; how was that even possible? Then a thought hit him: What if Imperial were really the last Sakato? How could he possibly defeat him? There had to be a way... If Sakato were to obtain ultimate power, he had to try.

Meanwhile, from the southern entrance to the Docking Bay, Lionne and Wero ran in. They looked at the scene before them in amazement. Ships were everywhere, broken and discarded like the old toys of giants. Smoke billowed into the air and flames lapped hungrily at the walls. The whole place looked like it was ready to fall apart at any instant. And still the Wolfpack armada kept up their fire from outside, never relenting for longer than a couple of seconds.

'Jesus.' Wero took in the devastation. 'What the hell happend here?'

'Tbfh,' Lionne replied, 'I don't care. I just don't want to be here when the place blows up.'

'But where can we go?' Wero asked him.

'That's a good point.' Lionne looked at all the destroyed ships. Were any of them even capable of taking off anymore?

Suddenly, a pile of wreckage in the corner shifted. Huge chunks of metal lifted into the air and fell back down. From out of the wreckage stepped a striking figure. His long, flowing dark hair was visible even from this distance. Wero flinched and took a step backwards in fear.

'Shit!' Wero gasped. 'It's CandyZim!'

'Candy what?' Lionne asked. 'Ooooh. Candyman Zimra. What's he up to?'

Then, to their left, another figure appeared. This one was obviously Sakato, and he looked pissed off. His body was dotted with wooden splinters and small beads of blood trickled down his body. It made for a horrible sight; he looked like a human pincushion. After a few seconds it became apparent that Sakato and Zimra were headed for the same person; Imperial.

'What the heck is wrong with Imperial?' Wero asked, observing Imperial hurl a fireball at a nearby fighter and knocking it out of the air. It cartwheeled crazily before smashing into the ground, bursting into a thousand pieces with a huge gout of flame. 'Since when could he do that?'

'Tbfh, Wero, I'm tired of your questions. Stop asking me shit I don't have any idea about, okay?'

'How about one more?' Wero pleaded.

'...What?'

'Who's that.' Wero pointed at another man who had just stepped out of a fighter labelled Douche Bag.

'That's Grif!' Lionne exclaimed. 'Maybe he's here to help us?'

Grif, infact, had no intention of helping anyone. He'd just landed back in the HQ to pick up his toiletries before flying off to a Spa planet, preferablly for a permenant vacation. He'd already dealt with the bounty hunters after him and nobody else here concerned him. He didn't give a crap if anyone in F-Crew died. They'd made him the most wanted man in the universe, after all, so why should he do anything for them?

Unfortunately, this was easier said than done. The second Imperial, Sakato, Grif and Zimra appeared in the same room, all hell broke loose.

Sakato's mind worked quickly. Here were three people of varying power. Grif could easily be another Sakato, and so could Imperial. He had no idea why Zimra was still alive, but if he had the power to resurrect himself then he had to be pretty strong. Which one should he kill, though? Imperial looked incredibly strong, probably too strong, and Grif had the luck of the God's on his side. He decided he would go after Zimra. But, there was one problem. Imperial was in the way.

Before Sakato could make any attempt to sneak by, Imperial whirled to face him. Zimra meanwhile took off in the direction of Grif.

'Ah, Sakato.' Imperial smiled. 'So glad to finally make your aquintance.'

'I wish I could say the same about you.' Sakato tensed his body up, waiting for any kind of movement.

'I know the truth about you, Sakato. I know all about the alternate forms of you. And I also know that one of them is in this room with you. Do you know who it is? Do you know who the final Sakato is?'

'How the hell do you know about that? I didn't even know about it until today!'

Imperial suddenly closed the distance between them in a second and grabbed Sakato by the throat. 'You are born of murder, the very essence of that which takes life. You have power, if you wish it.'

Sakato struggled to get free. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

'The other Sakato is over there.' Imperial grinned evilly at him. Sakato noticed that Imperial was cradling a toaster close to his body with his free arm. 'Would you like me to help you kill him?'

'Why would you do that? Why would you help me?' Sakato wheezed, trying to catch a breath.

'Answer my question, dog.'

'Y-Yes! Help me!' Sakato pleaded. He didn't care if it was a bad idea to accept Imperials help; he just didn't feel like dieing.

'Good. Good boy.'

Meanwhile, Candyman Zimra had already closed the distance between himself and Grif. The two of them met near the entrance to the Docking Bay and exchanged pleasant smiles. Grif nodded and turned to walk away, but Zimra placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him steady.

'Zim?' Grif turned. 'Can I help you with something?'

'Hey ladies.' Zimra smiled hugely. 'Attacks up!'

'The attack was up hours ago. I'm not claiming a wave tonight, sorry Zim. I'm out of F-Crew.'

'I've never crashed a SINGLE defence mission. How cool am I?'

'I know that Zim. You're a good BC.' Grif tried to remove Zimra's hand, but he was holding on tight. 'Can you let go of me please? I don't want to kick your ass.'

'LOL LMFAO LOL LOL' Zimra replied, grinning insanely.

'What the fuck have you been smoking, you fucking jackass?' Grif growled, losing his temper. He grabbed Zimra's hand and pulled it off.

'LOL!' Zimra grabbed Grif's hand tightly and held on. 'Got any ships? I've got a def call. Planet: Grif. Eta: 1 second. Notes: Anti Zimra.'

Without another word Zimra hurled Grif through the air. Grif managed to let out a short cry before his feet left the ground, then he was up, hurtling across the room as if he could fly. Wreckage was strewn across the ground everywhere, and if he wasn't careful he would end up falling on a particularily sharp pile of it. Luckily for him though, he managed to land on a big pile of cushions. How they'd gotten there, he didn't have a clue, and he didn't really want to know either.

Meanwhile, Sakato and Imperial approached Zimra from behind. Without warning, Sakato wrapped his arms around Zimra's neck and started to crush his windpipe. Never missing a chance to do a fancy speech, Imperial walked infront of Zimra and crossed his arms imperiously.

'LOL!' Candyman Zimra laughed. 'WTF?'

'Silence dog!' Imperial slapped him. 'Sakato, hurry up and kill him.'

'What will happen when I do?' Sakato actually sounded scared. 'Are you sure I will become ultimately powerful when there's only one of me left, and not just fade into nonexistence?'

'You'll be fine.' Imperial's eyes flickered with malice.

'I can't do it!' Sakato suddenly let go off Zimra. 'I like Zimra, man. He's my friend. Hell, why am I killing people at all? How did I get swept up into all of this? I'm just a jackass, nothing more, nothing less.'

Imperial growled and raised his hand to the side. A fireball flared into existence in his hand and he pointed it threateningly at Sakato. 'Your actions affect so many others than yourself. You will come to realize what little choice you have. You will do what you must, become what you must, or others will pay for your cowardice. You WILL accept the gifts offered to you.'

'No he won't.' Zimra grinned. 'Because I'm going to take them off of him.'

Zimra suddenly turned and grabbed Sakato by the throat. With a single tug he ripped out Sakato's windpipe and threw it into Imperials face. Sakato tried to scream but all that came out was a bloody gurgle and he fell to his knees, spraying blood everywhere. Zimra reached down and picked Sakato up by his hair, then hurled his corpse onto a pile of burning rubble. Sakato tried to stand up but his body had no energy left, and he was on fire within seconds.

'AHAHAHHAHAH!' Zimra laughed and punched the air in triumph. 'Fucking idiot Sakato! I finally killed him! Yes!'

By now Grif had arrived at the scene, and he quickly stopped at Zimra's side. 'What the hell was all that LOL LOL stuff about? You sounded crazy, you stupid scottish twat.'

'It's called giving your opponent a false sense of security.' Zimra smiled. 'And it worked out pretty well, don't you think?'

'What's going on?' Imperial had finally managed to pull the windpipe off of his face. 'I don't understand.'

'Well, I don't really either.' Zimra admitted. 'But I'll try to give you the short end of it. Sakato really wasn't Sakato, he was just Zimra. Did you ever noticed we look rather similar?'

'No.'

'Oh, well, that kind of shoots that down, doesn't it?' Zimra grinned lopsidedly. 'Anyway, to put it bluntly. The Zimra who died in the game of Russian Roulette was the real Zimra, at least the real one of this universe. McMinge was also another Zimra, who, much to my enjoyment, happend to die as well. The only other Zimra's left were Sakato and the other Sakatos.'

'But... That doesn't make any sense. Who the hell are you?'

'I'm the Candyman Zimra. I'm summoned by walking up to a mirror.' Zimra smiled.

'This is bullshit.' Imperial shook his head in confusion. 'This makes no logical sense at all.'

'That's why you're an idiot and I'm an all power Demi-God.' Zimra drew back his fist and punched Imperial in the face.

Imperial flew head over heels and slammed into the wall, creating a huge dent in it. Zimra laughed and walked right up to him, picking him up by the scruff of his coat. The toaster dropped out of Imperials hands and Zimra looked at it.

'What the hell is this?' Zimra picked it up, dropping Imperial.

'Don't touch it...' Imperial stammered.

'Why shouldn't I?' Zimra asked.

'Because...' Imperials eyes flickered with menace and cunning. 'Oh, no reason.'

'Shit.' Zimra grabbed him by his collar. 'Now you HAVE to tell me! I can't stand secrets.'

'Well...' Imperial hesitated.

'WHAT IS IT?'

'Nothing.' Imperial smiled. 'Nothing important.'

'Tell me right now or I'll smash it to pieces!' Zimra threatened.

'No!' Imperial said in mock panic. 'Don't, please! My Grandma gave me that toaster fifty years ago! It's a valuable family Heirloom! If you destroy it, I'll have nothing left of her! Please don't!'

'Heh.' Zimra crushed it between his hands like it was made of dust. 'Oops! No more toast for Imperial! He-he-he!'

'Heh.' Imperial grinned back. 'Your idioicy is one of the only things I can rely on, Zimra.'

'Zim...' Grif warned. 'I think you're in trouble.'

'Why?' Zimra asked.

'Look.'

Zimra suddenly let out a cry of terror as he saw his hand. It was falling to pieces! Cracks appeared on his skin and spread outwards rapidly, travelling along his arm and up his shoulder. He tried to bat at the cracks with his left hand, but his right arm just fell to pieces when he tried. Zimra screamed in fear as his other arm fell off, too. Suddenly his nose began to flake, and then his hair, and as he turned to run, his legs disintegrated underneath himself. He let out one last cry of terror as his body headed towards the ground, and then he vanished in a puff of smoke.

'Well.' Grif sighed. 'Shit.'

With a ping and the sound of toast popping up, the Toaster reappeared in Imperials hand. 'Ahahahahaha! What a fucking moron.You can always count on Zimra to do the dumbest thing possible, right Grif?'

'Er,' Grif took a hasty step backwards. 'Don't point that toaster anywhere near me, okay?'

'Okay.' Imperial nodded. 'Don't you even want to know what it does?'

Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice screamed out louder than the devastation all around them.

'FOR ZIMRA!' Wero shouted, jumping down from a ledge above Imperial. 'YOU KILLED MY BEST FRIEND!'

Imperial whirled around quickly and loosed off a quick volley of Fireballs. They slammed into Wero's torso and disintegrated his skin, bursting his stomach open. Half digested food and acid rained down on Imperials face as Wero's body smashed into the ground at his feet. Wero tried desperately to get up, but it was no use. The Fireballs had travelled all the way through him and melted his spine.

'Now, where were we?' Imperial turned to face Grif, but he was nowhere to be seen. 'Grif?'

Grif had taken off running in the other direction. There was no way he was going to fuck around with Imperial, he was way too powerful. Also, another slightly more terrifiying revelation had been a party to his decision. The Wolfpack armada had landed in the Docking Bay in full force. Their soldiers streamed out everywhere, hundreds and thousands of them there must have been. A couple dozen of them noticed Grif and charged at him.

'For fucks sake.' Grif groaned. 'I don't have the time!'

'Get 'im!' They yelled.

They opened fire as they ran, spewing hundreds of bullets in his general direction. All of them flew wide, though, and bounced off of the wall harmlessly. Grif turned to them and sighed. He pulled out his pistol and took careful aim, then let off a single shot. The bullet whizzed through the air and hit a grenade of the WP members was carrying on his belt. Lucky shot.

BANG

The group of WP soldiers were blown to pieces, ripped limb from limb after all of their grenades went off simultaneously. Normally there would have only been a single explosion, but the Scarecrow had the power to alter the natural physics of the world to save his own badass ass.

The rest of the WP soldiers backed away in fear. Grif took his chance to run, but something caught his attention. Out of the mass of Wolfpack forces, a single man strode out. His hair was long, white and shiny, like the mane of a wild wolf. His teeth glinted in the light as he grinned maliciously, showing off his over-developed fangs. Grif gasped; this must be the leader of Wolfpack. This was big trouble... HC Leonidas, Lord of Wolfpack.

'Why haven't you killed him?' Leonidas demanded, turning to face his soldiers.

'He must be... Immortal... There's no other explanation!'

'What are you talking about?'

'Watch!' The Wolfpack soldier fired his pistol, emptying the entire clip. Not a single bullet hit.

'Did you even aim that, Soldier?'

'Y-Yes! I'm telling you, he's Immortal.'

'F-Crew Immortal... Let's put that name to the test.' He clicked his fingers and a dozen Wolfpack Soldiers appeared beside him. They were wearing only red cloaks and loincloths.

Meanwhile, Lionne ran up to Grif's side, followed shortly by Anima. Anima had told Beth to hide out for now, so she was nowhere to be seen.

'We're here to help, Grif.' Lionne smiled. 'It looks like you're going to need it.'

'Get the hell out of here before you die!' Grif rounded on him. 'You'll get slaughtered by Wolfpack if you're not careful!'

'You!' Leonidas suddenly pointed at Lionne. 'What is your profession?'

'Tbfh I'm not quite sure.' Lionne replied.

'And you, the queer looking one, what's your profession?' He pointed at Anima.

'Hey!' Anima protested. He took one look at the Leonidas' eyes and abrubtly stammered out his answer, 'I'm a potter, Sir.'

'WOLFPACK!' Their leader roared. 'WHAT IS YOUR PROFESSION?'

'AWOOOOO!' They howled.

'You see? I brought more soldiers than you did.'

'Yes.' Grif nodded his head in acknowledgement. 'But even one million Wolf Pack soldiers wouldn't be a match for me.'

'That may be the case, Scarecrow.' Leonidas smiled. 'But I have your C4. Remember this?'

Leonidas ripped off his shirt, revealing row upon row of C4 explosives strapped to his chest. He grinned evilly as he saw Grif take a step backwards. So, the great Scarecrow could be scared after all. He may not be a match for a neverending army of faceless peons, but explosives that could destroy a whole space station in an instance were another cup of tea entirely.

'This is madness!' Grif gaped. 'You'll kill us all!'

'Madness?' Leonidas laughed. 'THIS IS WOLFPACK!'

Leonidas abrubtly pulled out the detonator and held it out for all to see. His finger poisoned over the trigger, ready to press it. Grif made his move immediately and burst into a run, his feet pounding hard against the ground. But it was no use, there was no way he would make it in time. Leonidas was about one second away from pressing the trigger. One.... A half... A quarter...

Imperial appeared out of nowhere as if by magic (it probably was, actually), right infront of the Spartan/Wolfpack army. He placed his hand infront of him and grinned evilly. His hand glowed with energy and lightning arced across his body, flickering outwards to singe one of the hairs on Leonidas' head.

'The thousand Magic Missiles of Imperials Missile Storm descends upon you! My magic will blot out the sun!'

Leonidas turned and growled, his thumb froze over the trigger. He found it was impossible to move until he spat out a cocky, cool, badass comeback line. Sometimes being uberly manly had it's disadvantages.

'Then we will fight in the shade!' Leonidas shouted back.

But it was too late. The magic missile storm flew through the air and slammed into Leonidas and the rest of Wolfpack. Due to his delay with spouting a comeback line, Leonidas didn't have time to press the detonator. His arm was torn off at the shoulder and blood sprayed everywhere, coating the ground in blood. The rest of WP were slaughtered instantly as thousands of magic missiles tore through their ranks, blowing through their chests, ripping their limbs off and exploding their heads.

'Ha!' Imperial grinned evilly. The toaster next to him bounced and jiggled ominously. 'Haaaaaaaahahahahahaha!'

'Shit.' Grif backed away. 'What the hell is Imperial up to? We have to get out of here!'

'Tbfh, Grif.' Lionne turned to him. 'I think you can take him on. I mean, he's just a Wizard, and Wizards are pretty gay. Look at Harry Potter.'

Imperial raised an eyebrow; he'd heard what Lionne had said through his magic enhanced hearing. It was a pretty useful skill to have; along with his enhanced vision he could spy on women and listen to them from miles away. It didn't always turn out good, though. One time he'd accidentally looked through Jonnys window. Imperial shuddered, it was horrible to remember. Jonny had been fucking Nika and Twig at the same time. Poor Twig, Imperial thought, little guy deserved better.

'Enough!' Imperial suddenly shouted, trying to get his thoughts back on track. 'Did you just call Wizards gay? Wizards? Gay? How dare you.'

'Fuck you.' Lionne whirled to face Grif. 'Tbfh, I'm tired of this. Every fucking day it's the same old shit. People getting killed, everything going crazy, no one giving me the respect I deserve. Fuck you, fuck it all. I'm going to kill you Imperial, I don't give a shit how strong you are. You're only human, after all. So fuck it, fuck everything, fuck you, you gay fucking cock fucking Wizard.'

Grif's eyes widened in shock. How many times had Lionne just said fuck?

Nine times.

'Fuck you!' Lionne yelled and charged, pulling a pistol out of nowhere. 'Tbfh, this it it! You're dead, fucker!

Eleven.

Imperial raised his arms up and spread his fingers wide. He lowered his head and began to chant in a low, droning voice. The words were indechiperable but they had a power, of a sort. Within seconds he had completed his spell, and a growing ray of light shot forth, hitting Lionne dead-center on his chest. Lionne groaned and stopped mid-charge, stumbling backwards. As he watched in shock, his body began to change. Huge, pert, supple breasts sprouted from his chest, springing forwards like healthy new-grown fruits. Next his hair changed, becoming long and flowing, spreading down his back like an elegant waterfall. Finally, he became a she, but the process is so graphic that I'm not willing to explain it.

'Fudge!' Lionne gasped. His voice was distinctly feminine. 'What the fudge have you done to me? You friggin jerk! I can't fudging swear anymore! Frick me'

'Oh this is too much fun.' Imperial grinned. 'I can do whatever I want now that ultimate power is mine!'

'Ultimate power?' Lionne questioned. 'What the frick are you talking about, you big bully! Ooooh, guys like you make me sooooo mad!'

'You see this device?' He motioned towards the toaster. 'It absorbs the souls of the dead and transfers their power to me. Why do you think I started this war? There was no way I could have gotten this many people so close together without being killed. But the Open-Day presented to me the perfect opportunity. And now my toaster is full and about to pop, and I'm the strongest being in the entire UNIVERSE!'

'Fuck me.' Anima/Juckie gasped.

Imperial clicked his fingers and a bolt of lightning flared out of nowhere. It whooshed through the air, making a thunderous crack as it burst against Anima's body. Anima screamed in pain and was blown to pieces almost instantaneously, so he never really did get to scream in pain.. Burnt pieces of flesh flew through the air in all directions, one almost hitting Grif in the head. As it passed he chanced a sniff at it, and it didn't smell too bad. He had to try Human one day.

'Hahahahahaha!' Imperial laughed insanely.

Shit, Grif thought to himself, this is getting out of control. It looks like I'm going to have to stop this. But even my Scarecrow powers aren't enough... Is it time to reveal my true identity? I guess I have no choice.

'Now, to deal with the Scarecrow.' Imperial turned to face Grif.

'This is it.' Grif smiled sadly. 'Time to show you what I'm really made of.'

'What are you talking about?' Imperial raised his arm and spread his fingers, getting ready to cast another spell.

'I may be the Scarecrow, but I also have another secret identity. I'm...' He reached up and took a hold of his hair and then pulled. His face off, or the mask that was his face, came off and revealed his true identity. 'Jack Baeur.'

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

What you are about to read takes place between the seconds of 1 and 24

Beep 0:01

'Oh shit!' Imperial gasped,

Beep 0:02

'How could

Beep 0:03

this be?'

Beep 0:04

'You're going to

Beep 0:05

die, Imperial.' Grif smirked at him.

Beep 0:06

Grif reached down to his side for his pistol holster

Beep 0:07

Imperial starts to recover from his shock.

Grif unclips his holster.

Beep 0:08

Grif takes a hold of the pistol and pulls it up

Imperial raises his other arm

Lionne let's out a feminine gasp

Beep 0:09

'Stop, tbfh!' Lionne protested

Grif pulls his gun up in line with Imperials head.

Imperial places both his hands side by side.

Beep 0:10

Grif tightens his finger on the trigger

'Shit!' Imperial gasps

Beep 0:11

'How can I

Beep 0:12

beat Scarecrow and

Beep 0:13

Jack Baeur?' Imperial asked in despair.

Grif pulls the trigger

Beep 0:14

BANG!

The bullet flies through the air

Imperial tries to turn his head

Beep 0:15

The bullet crosses the distance and presses against the top of Imperials cheek

Grif grins smugly

Beep 0:16

The bullet smashes through Imperials cheek, ripping the skin apart, tearing through his head, bursting out the back.

Blood sprays everywhere

Beep 0:17

Imperials body falls towards the floor

'Nice shot,

Beep 0:18

Tbfh.' Lionne complimented him.

Imperials body hits the floor, quivering madly.

Beep 0:19

'He's still alive?' Grif asks.

Beep 0:20

'Not for long.' A strange voice replied.

Beep 0:21

'Have mercy...' Imperial gasps...

Grif turns to see the source of the voice.

Kalos has her pistol drawn, aimed between Imperials legs.

Beep 0:22

BANG

'No!' Imperial cries

Beep 0:23

The bullet flies through the air, tearing through Imperials clothes, touching the tip of his penis

Beep 0:24

The bullet slams through Imperials tiny penis, blowing it to pieces without any effort. Teeny tiny chunks of flesh fly out of his trousers, landing on Grif and Kalos' face. A small squirt of blood shoots out as if in celebration.

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

'Hey guys.' Twig suddenly walked up. 'What's been happening?'

'Tbfh,' Lionne grinned happily, 'That was the longest 24 seconds of my life. Oh, hey Twig.'

'Hi Twig.' Grif/Scarecrow/Jack waved. 'Anyway Lionne. Now that that's all done with, you wanna get laid? You're pretty hot as a girl, you know. And I have scars.'

'No thanks. I've got Beth.'

'u called' She suddenly ran up and wrapped her arms around Lionne. 'oh lionne i luv u'

'I lov u 2 beth' Lionne replied. 'i can spek liek u so we r perfect tbfh'

'Beth??' Twig gasped. 'But I didn't know you had a boyfriend!'

'It's time to come clean.' Lionne suddenly sounded serious. 'Me and beth have been having a secret affair, right honey?'

'rite' She replied half-heartedly.

'A secret affair?' Twig laughed. 'You and all of F-Crew!'

'What?' Lionne gaped. 'What are you saying?'

'Don't you know? Beth has fucked almost everyone in F-Crew. She doesn't really love you, man, she's just in it for the cock.'

'Why are you telling me this?' Lionne looked like he was about to cry. 'Why couldn't you have just let me go on believing? Why Twig?'

'Because I needed a part in the story.' He grinned. 'And I can swear all I want, too. Fuck cunt wank bastard shit fucker dick penis twat ass arse tits boobs bastard mother-fucker!'

'So you mean she fucked everyone??' Lionne was crying now, tears ran freely down his face. 'You mean it was all a lie? Beth, you bitch! Tbfh I think you're an ugly whore anyway, I just didn't want to tell you! Fuck you! Fuck fuck!'

Fourteen times.

'wat can i say boys' Beth blushed. 'i lov cock'

ETA - N/A - Nick's house

'Hey Douchebag, are you finished yet?'

Nicholas slammed his mobile phone down. Fucking Grif! Why is he always calling me and asking me that? God, it's getting on my nerves! I'd almost fucking finished the story, too, damn it. Now I'm just pissed off. I swear, if someone asks me if I've finished this thing one more time, I'm going to go fucking Postal.

Nick settled down infront of his computer again, instantly assuming his online identity of Zimra. Here, on the internet, he could be an asshole and nobody could beat him up. Good thing, too, he was a puny little whimp of a guy. Nick cracked his fingers and held them poised over the keyboard, waiting for inspiration. A wave of it hit him, and he prepared to finish the story.

BEEDELOUP!

Msn blinked on with a message

'Douchebag, you hung up on me. Have you finished the story yet?' - Grif

'NO!' Nick/Zimra typed back angrily.

'Pity. Get your ass in gear, then, and take what you've wrote so far. The F-crew meet is in 10 minutes, y'know.'

Nick growled angrily and slammed the laptop shut. He got to his feet and picked up a stack of paper. It was what he'd wrote of the story so far, all printed out and ready to be handed around at the F-Crew meet. A lot of the regulars had gathered together and decided it was time to meet face to face. Now they could all insult each other for how they looked, get drunk, and generally have a very uncomfortable and unnerving time together.

He quickly let himself out of the hotel room and headed down the stairs. As he walked he fingered a heavy object in his pocket. That fucking Grif, Nick thought to himself, I swear that's the 100th time he's asked me that question. I'm not going to take it again, no siree, it pisses me off way too much.

He hurried to the stairs and ran all the way down, heading towards the hotel bar. As he walked in, he saw a lot of familiar faces. It seemed like all of F-Crew were there. Lionne, Kalos, Twig, Imperial, Wakey, Ceadrath, Carld, Rob, Anima, GiR, Juice, Markie, Puss, Beth, Lilleman, Plt, Jonny, McMinge (weirdly enough) and many others.

'Hey Zim!' They turned to greet him. 'How's it going, you ugly scottish bastard?'

'Fuck you.' Nick grumbled and took a seat at the bar. He wasn't in the mood for a meeting; last night he'd tried to come onto Kalos and she'd almost chopped his dick off. What made it worse was everyone knew about it.

'Get laid last night?' Ceadrath grinned at him.

'Fuck you Cead.'

'<3' Ceadrath somehow managed to say. 'Zimmy wimmy!'

Nick took a long drink of beer and ordered another one. He just wanted all of this to be over with. Hopefully he could get through the rest of the night without anything terrible happening.

'Hah!' Entropy laughed at a joke Nick hadn't heard. 'That's more pathetic than Zimra hitting on Kalos!'

Nick growled and gripped his beer glass tighter. Just a couple more hours... Keep it cool... Hold it together...

'Hey Zim.' Grif took a seat beside him. 'How's it going? I'm sorry to hear about last night. She was a fool to turn you down.'

'Thanks, Grif.' Nick smiled. At least someone was being nice to him.

'Lol, douche, you're not a bad guy. Now how's the story coming along?'

'THAT'S IT!' Nick jumped to his feet, sending the bar stool flying. 'DON'T ASK ME THAT FUCKING QUESTION AGAIN!'

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pistol, placing it against Grif's head. His finger tightened on the trigger, and then pressed it. Bang! Grif's head was blown to pieces, splattering blood everywhere. All of F-Crew screamed and tried to run, but Nick followed their movements and fired.

BANG! Lionne was down.

BANG! Jonny's head was blown to pieces.

BANG! Twig was emasculated.

'FUCK YOU ALL!' Nick yelled as he continued firing.

Wakey hit the ground, followed by Rob and Anima. He was quickly running out of bullets. He loosed off another two shots, swiftly felling Markie and Juice, before turning the gun onto his own head.

'I CAN'T THINK OF AN ENDING! IS THAT SO HARD TO BELIEVE? HOW THE HELL CAN I FINISH THE STORY IF I CAN'T COME UP WITH A DECENT ENDING?' He stuck the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

• BANG*

The last shot ended it all.