Monday, October 5, 2009

Almond Filibostron

No, it's a trap. The explosion rattled the fillings in his teeth as he dived through the resultant wave of glass. It washed over him like a sharp rain as he reached for his deaver pistols.

One shot will reign in the apocalypse. They ripped through the building the rocket had come from reducing it to rubble. He heard the rattle of gun-fire however and he dragged himself behind a wall as the spinning balls of lead crashed into the ground around him, tearing the earth into clouds of brown and green.

He was stuck now. There was another explosion and the gun-fire stopped.

Slowly, he stuck his head over his cover to see his old comrade Bundwurp holding a soviet era rocket launcher and a grin that said, "You owe me one."

He leveled his pistol at bundwurp and said.

"Trust is something I never give, to soldier, politician or otherwise."

So much for game theory.

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