"I'm a deputy. I deputize."
Deputizing was really hard work.
It was for the good of the group, and for the good of paintball, though. It was their only choice. In the rush to get weapons from the giant ice cream cone, they’d gotten separated and lost half of the group. And if any of them wanted protection from the Black Rider, being Pierce’s deputies was their best bet. They couldn’t just wait around to meet up with the others, hoping that they were still in the game. Waiting meant death. And death meant dying.
Abed, Annie and Jeff were probably all dead by now.
Well, dead or at Denny’s. Same thing. Either way, Jeff probably still looked really cool in his cowboy hat.
God, that was a cool hat.
Troy so should have gone for generic Western instead of the Blazing Saddles thing. Maybe there’d be time to change later on.
Either way, joining up with Pierce at Fort Hawthorne had made the most sense at the time. He had ammo, a safe place to pee and all the vending machine Twinkies you could eat. It was a variable oasis. And maybe it meant that Troy had to hide in a trash can for what seemed like a really, really long time now with what he was pretty sure was somebody’s old egg salad sandwich, waiting on Shirley’s signal, but that was the price you paid when you were trying to win a share of $10,000.
Yep. That was definitely an old sandwich, and it smelled pretty bad.
And was there suddenly a whole lot less air? Also, Troy’s legs were starting to cramp up. This trash can had looked a whole lot bigger when he wasn’t actually inside of it.
That signal would be really nice, right about now.
[Troy is crouched inside of a plastic, grey trash can with a lid on it at the moment. Kind of like this one. Standard debut, find him anywhere on the island. Please see this post on slated before tagging in. Thanks!]
It was for the good of the group, and for the good of paintball, though. It was their only choice. In the rush to get weapons from the giant ice cream cone, they’d gotten separated and lost half of the group. And if any of them wanted protection from the Black Rider, being Pierce’s deputies was their best bet. They couldn’t just wait around to meet up with the others, hoping that they were still in the game. Waiting meant death. And death meant dying.
Abed, Annie and Jeff were probably all dead by now.
Well, dead or at Denny’s. Same thing. Either way, Jeff probably still looked really cool in his cowboy hat.
God, that was a cool hat.
Troy so should have gone for generic Western instead of the Blazing Saddles thing. Maybe there’d be time to change later on.
Either way, joining up with Pierce at Fort Hawthorne had made the most sense at the time. He had ammo, a safe place to pee and all the vending machine Twinkies you could eat. It was a variable oasis. And maybe it meant that Troy had to hide in a trash can for what seemed like a really, really long time now with what he was pretty sure was somebody’s old egg salad sandwich, waiting on Shirley’s signal, but that was the price you paid when you were trying to win a share of $10,000.
Yep. That was definitely an old sandwich, and it smelled pretty bad.
And was there suddenly a whole lot less air? Also, Troy’s legs were starting to cramp up. This trash can had looked a whole lot bigger when he wasn’t actually inside of it.
That signal would be really nice, right about now.
[Troy is crouched inside of a plastic, grey trash can with a lid on it at the moment. Kind of like this one. Standard debut, find him anywhere on the island. Please see this post on slated before tagging in. Thanks!]
