(no subject)
"...well, that blew."
Randall T. Graves stares down at his own acid-eaten corpse which is slowly melting away from the downpour.
"No fuckin' thunderdome and then this shit. Rain is not supposed to kill you, man. I don't care how many fucking dolphins and koalabears and fucking... fucking bald eagles bit it. This is bullshit. I want my eight bucks back. Even Armaggedon made more sense than this."
He tilts his head.
"I really liked that shirt."
The ghost of Randall T. Graves tries to kick a rock, doesn't manage it, and falls on his ass. He looks at the rock angrily for a moment before picking himself up, dusting himself off from the dust that can't actually get on him (as the acid rain that's dropping straight through him should show, but he's never been all that swift), and glaring at the rock.
"'least I got out of fuckin' Jersey."
The ground doesn't answer him.
"Fine. I'm going to read porn."
And he turns and walks towards the building before walking through the wall.
Randall T. Graves stares down at his own acid-eaten corpse which is slowly melting away from the downpour.
"No fuckin' thunderdome and then this shit. Rain is not supposed to kill you, man. I don't care how many fucking dolphins and koalabears and fucking... fucking bald eagles bit it. This is bullshit. I want my eight bucks back. Even Armaggedon made more sense than this."
He tilts his head.
"I really liked that shirt."
The ghost of Randall T. Graves tries to kick a rock, doesn't manage it, and falls on his ass. He looks at the rock angrily for a moment before picking himself up, dusting himself off from the dust that can't actually get on him (as the acid rain that's dropping straight through him should show, but he's never been all that swift), and glaring at the rock.
"'least I got out of fuckin' Jersey."
The ground doesn't answer him.
"Fine. I'm going to read porn."
And he turns and walks towards the building before walking through the wall.