Mar 18, 2010 12:22
Really? Really? Was a second time necessary with this?
[Cheetor's hanging out on what looks to be a rooftop, and when he tilts the camera downward, you can see a large crowd of the undead swarming around it, reaching for him. He turns the camera back to him. He is not pleased--his jacket's torn and stained. Do you know how old that jacket was? Two weeks old! The puppy is stuffed in there, peeking out at the camera with typical puppy curiosity.]
I have managed to live through a war on prehistoric Earth, a megalomaniac trying to erase time, the same megalomaniac siccing an army of drones on me when I came home to my barran wasteland of a planet, getting zapped here, and the first zombie apocalypse, so I think I'll pass on screaming my dying breath, thanks for nothing, you overdramatic blowhard. But since you were so nice as to have this happen while I was walking my dog, please, come over here so I can thank you personally.
Autobots, sound off. I want to know where you are and how you're doing.
[Private; to Mary Marvel]
Uh... "Mary Marvel." Remember when you said you could help me out if I needed it? I think I need it right about now.
[The dog sniffs the air and gives a plaintive little howl. Off camera, something moans.]
† cheetor | liam barber