Home (Part 2) (356 hits)
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Submitted by Chronic Master Baiter (View user info) at 2005-10-22 06:01:03 EDT
http://www.ubersite.com/m/77411 (Home Part 1)
General Patrickson stormed through the hallways to the upper deck of the landing area. For all the years he had provided to the armed forces, he has seen nothing like this before. He stepped past the metallic doors of the bunker and looked on towards the field. "A quiet night ruined by this shit-fest" he thought to himself.
The deck itself was filled with activity. Here and there, several engineers tried to weld into the giant ship. Soldiers stood guard at the main hatch, with a few men from the coroner brining out some bodies. A young intern appeared at the Generals side to give a status report.
"Sir, it seems as if the crew of this ship mutineed against the captain."
"Or so it seems. What about the history of this ship" replied the captain.
"About several decades ago, earth's forces engaged the colonies warships a few lightyears away. From what I could gather, this is a colony ship that had it's jump-drives damaged. As the forces from both sides met, she limped away to a close planet for recovery. Ever since that happened, she has been jumping around the galaxy"
"Great" thought Patrickson. Life was already tough on him. The bloody assholes on at the top were making it hard for him to get a promotion and this was going to make matters worse. Anger swelled up in him, the type of anger where you could tear someones assholes apart...
"Sir, is there anything else on your mind"
"No, good job on the report, dismissed"
As the intern dissapeared in the darkness of the night, Patrickson wandered back into the bunker to his office. As he stepped in, the familiar sight of pictures, memorbilia and awards filled the wall. He sat down on his leather chair to check his messages. It had taken him twenty years to get to this post. How the hell could something like this happen. At first it started out as a call from the communications team, where he made contact with the ship. Everything was being followed according to protocols but yet when he saw the massacre on the ship, words failed him. He looked at his diving watch, an old trophy he had bought for himself when he went to New Zealand for diving, realing it was about ten.
Patrickson picked up his phone, made several calls, and headed back to his car. As he headed through the gates of the bunker, the familiar sight of guard saluting him out seemed to slip his mind.
As he stepped out onto his driveway at home, the familiar smell of curry cursed the air. It was the kind of smell that stuck to you for several hours if you were around it for more than several minutes. "Bloody Indians" murmered Patrickson, who had always yearned some sort of hatred for his Indian neighbors. As he opened the frontdoor, his wife called him to the dining table.
In his dining room, trophies of the past adorned his wall. A sword sat dignifully in it's glass case on the wall. An old pistol mounted above the fireplace and several egyptian scrolls were here and there on the walls.
As he approached the table, he made eye contact with his wife and son. As he was about to sit down, he picked up the plate and threw it across the table at his son. His son, being a ninja, dodged the plate. His wife, who was aware of what was about to happen, picked up the candle which sat on the center of the table and charged Patrickson with it. He jumped and kicked her across the face. His son, who had recovered from the attack, ran to the glass case, punched it, and pulled out the sword. He charged Patrickson with it. Patrickson, being a black belt, picked up the chair to block his son's attack. Patrickson blocked an undercut cut, however, his son spun the sword in the air over his head that it was about to strike Patrickson. Seizing the moment, Patrickson kicked him in nuts.
His wife recovered and lounged at Patrickson trying to bite his arm. Patrickson quickly slapped her. As she lay on the floor, his son stood up and held up a remote.
"One more move, and I will press channel one, and this house is gone."
Patrickson realized that the remote actually controlled c4 strapped to his son's waist.
"Now wait a minute here young ma...."
------
Mister Kumar hated his neighbors. Always noisy. Always pissing him off. As he sat in his lawnchair in his backyard, he could hear the period fighting from his neighbors home. As he looked at his neighbor's window, it exploded, and several hundred pieces of shrapnel struck Kumar's body.
User Reviews
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2005-11-02 04:06:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
ich erinnere mich an Sie mein Internet-Freund
Sie waren der Rätselmann
haben Sie a plus eins auf mir
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-11-02 02:50:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
dude, that sucks no-one cared enough about this post to rate it, much less review it.
*emo tears, etc.*