Post by Oblivion Death Squad on Apr 13, 2024 13:56:41 GMT -5
In a brightly lit glade surrounded by pools of stagnant water, and tall grasses stood the Oblivion Death Squad. They scowled as they looked around, frowning in the bright sunlight in their black fatigues. Nearby stood Sinclair Godfrey, the Baroness not wearing her great coat, just her black and red ring gear as she held a black lace parasol over her head.
Gingers can take no chances in the sun.
The three glared around them, and then out of the grass staggered an old bent men in hip waders. His hair stuck oit around his hair in wild spikes, and he had pair of red multi colored mirror shades on his nose. He was as slender as rail, but quite wiry as he lifted his arms to reveal three huge pythons clenched in his hands. One of them was half wrapped around his arm, and he yelled.
‘Bag! Where is the bag, boy!’
A fat man ran forward, wearing a DBZ shirt and ripped jeans with a large canvas sack. The Death Squad watched this all with great interest, and Sinclair muttered under her breath.
‘By the Empty Night’
The old man turned to them, dusting off his hands.
‘There you go, boys! Three pythons!They are an invasive species in Florida you know! Prey on the local wild life, and choke the life out of native species! Why if they were enough of them they could kill the whole swamp.’
‘Pity.’
Said Sinclair, clearly miserable in the weather as the Death Squad stared at the old man. Then Mormo growled, pointing at the grass.
‘Nga vijnë gjarpërinjtë? Kush i sjell këtu?’
The old man reached up, lowering his absurd glasses before he looked to Sinclair. Moloch stepped closer, and his huge hand snapped downwards to grab something in the tall grass. He ripped a python into the air, and the snake hissed and snapped at him as he arched a brow. The Old Man seemed stunned.
‘How did you?’
‘They are the warriors of the Apocalypse, I think catching snakes is simple.’
‘Çantë! Çantë!’
Sinclair rolled her eyes, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.
‘He wants a bag.’
The Old Man yelled, waving a hand as the fat man ran forward. And Moloch threw the snake inside with a shrug, and then he wiped his hands off his fatigues. He grunted, and Sinclair sniffed as she spun the parasol.
‘The snakes come from people who brought them in as pets, as amusement for themselves or their children. And when they got tired of them, when they got bored of their antics, when they lost their entertainment value? They were released into the wilds, where they bred, and their numbers grew and grew!
And since there were no predators capable of killing the snakes? They just spread further and further, choking the life out of the creatures who lived there.’
Sinclair paused, and she lifted a hand to brush back her hair as the old man nodded at her. He was clearly staring at the Baroness with greedy eyes. But she ignored him as she continued.
‘Of course, we know about invasive species don’t we? We know about when a thing is brought to where it doesn’t belong. A creature or creatures that seems harmless that someone brings where it shouldn’t be for their amusement or profit. Someone like Sebastian Blood for example.’
Her eyes narrowed.
‘And of course when these creatures are left to their own devices? They spread unchecked, and they choke the life out of say a tag division! Because frankly, the local predators whether it be the Alien Gladiators–’
‘A nuk do të ishin edhe ato invazive?’
Sinclair paused, and stared at Mormo. Then the Old Man spoke up, nodding slowly as he pulled on his scraggly beard.
‘I saw an alien once in the swamps, the government told me it was swamp gas. But I know what I saw, I keep a close eye on what goes on near my meth la–’
He cut off, and Sinclair sighed.
‘This place is like Yorkshire but hot.
Whether it be the Alien Gladiators, or the High Rollers Commune Crew, or even the Mississippi Bearded Men, who are different from the Louisiana ones! There comes a time when enough is enough, and then? Well, someone has to come in and clean them out.’
Sinclair smiled slightly.
‘That is us, Epcot Mafia. You see you have walked in here, and had the run of the WUK for too long. And now? Well, now it is time for you to face real predators isn’t it! It’s time for the invasive species to come up short when they face the apex of this environment! And so just like last time you ran up against us, when I took the Commonwealth Title from your hands!
And so when you roll into Melbourne? We will be waiting, and we will cut the head off of this serpent! We will take what should have always been ours since the first day of WUK! And that is the WUK Tag team Championships!’
Sinclair paused, and then she shrugged at the Old Man as they started to walk off. And then Mormo grabbed another python as it came from the grass, and he scowled at it as it coiled around his arm before his hand tightened. The Old Man ran forward to grab it, and he looked around.
‘Listen, maybe you could all stay and help us hunt snakes.’
The Death Squad looked hopeful, Sinclair stared.
‘Not for your life.’
‘50 bucks a python under four foot, and 25 for every foot over.’
‘Are you mad? We don’t need–’
Sinclair was cut off as the roar of an airboat engine filled the air, and water sloshed widely from nearby as the grass parted to reveal a gleaming black airboat. Donzig stood on the prow, his coat snapping and swirling wildly before he jabbed a finger at the old man.
‘Boys, find the snakes!’
Sinclair sighed.
Gingers can take no chances in the sun.
The three glared around them, and then out of the grass staggered an old bent men in hip waders. His hair stuck oit around his hair in wild spikes, and he had pair of red multi colored mirror shades on his nose. He was as slender as rail, but quite wiry as he lifted his arms to reveal three huge pythons clenched in his hands. One of them was half wrapped around his arm, and he yelled.
‘Bag! Where is the bag, boy!’
A fat man ran forward, wearing a DBZ shirt and ripped jeans with a large canvas sack. The Death Squad watched this all with great interest, and Sinclair muttered under her breath.
‘By the Empty Night’
The old man turned to them, dusting off his hands.
‘There you go, boys! Three pythons!They are an invasive species in Florida you know! Prey on the local wild life, and choke the life out of native species! Why if they were enough of them they could kill the whole swamp.’
‘Pity.’
Said Sinclair, clearly miserable in the weather as the Death Squad stared at the old man. Then Mormo growled, pointing at the grass.
‘Nga vijnë gjarpërinjtë? Kush i sjell këtu?’
The old man reached up, lowering his absurd glasses before he looked to Sinclair. Moloch stepped closer, and his huge hand snapped downwards to grab something in the tall grass. He ripped a python into the air, and the snake hissed and snapped at him as he arched a brow. The Old Man seemed stunned.
‘How did you?’
‘They are the warriors of the Apocalypse, I think catching snakes is simple.’
‘Çantë! Çantë!’
Sinclair rolled her eyes, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.
‘He wants a bag.’
The Old Man yelled, waving a hand as the fat man ran forward. And Moloch threw the snake inside with a shrug, and then he wiped his hands off his fatigues. He grunted, and Sinclair sniffed as she spun the parasol.
‘The snakes come from people who brought them in as pets, as amusement for themselves or their children. And when they got tired of them, when they got bored of their antics, when they lost their entertainment value? They were released into the wilds, where they bred, and their numbers grew and grew!
And since there were no predators capable of killing the snakes? They just spread further and further, choking the life out of the creatures who lived there.’
Sinclair paused, and she lifted a hand to brush back her hair as the old man nodded at her. He was clearly staring at the Baroness with greedy eyes. But she ignored him as she continued.
‘Of course, we know about invasive species don’t we? We know about when a thing is brought to where it doesn’t belong. A creature or creatures that seems harmless that someone brings where it shouldn’t be for their amusement or profit. Someone like Sebastian Blood for example.’
Her eyes narrowed.
‘And of course when these creatures are left to their own devices? They spread unchecked, and they choke the life out of say a tag division! Because frankly, the local predators whether it be the Alien Gladiators–’
‘A nuk do të ishin edhe ato invazive?’
Sinclair paused, and stared at Mormo. Then the Old Man spoke up, nodding slowly as he pulled on his scraggly beard.
‘I saw an alien once in the swamps, the government told me it was swamp gas. But I know what I saw, I keep a close eye on what goes on near my meth la–’
He cut off, and Sinclair sighed.
‘This place is like Yorkshire but hot.
Whether it be the Alien Gladiators, or the High Rollers Commune Crew, or even the Mississippi Bearded Men, who are different from the Louisiana ones! There comes a time when enough is enough, and then? Well, someone has to come in and clean them out.’
Sinclair smiled slightly.
‘That is us, Epcot Mafia. You see you have walked in here, and had the run of the WUK for too long. And now? Well, now it is time for you to face real predators isn’t it! It’s time for the invasive species to come up short when they face the apex of this environment! And so just like last time you ran up against us, when I took the Commonwealth Title from your hands!
And so when you roll into Melbourne? We will be waiting, and we will cut the head off of this serpent! We will take what should have always been ours since the first day of WUK! And that is the WUK Tag team Championships!’
Sinclair paused, and then she shrugged at the Old Man as they started to walk off. And then Mormo grabbed another python as it came from the grass, and he scowled at it as it coiled around his arm before his hand tightened. The Old Man ran forward to grab it, and he looked around.
‘Listen, maybe you could all stay and help us hunt snakes.’
The Death Squad looked hopeful, Sinclair stared.
‘Not for your life.’
‘50 bucks a python under four foot, and 25 for every foot over.’
‘Are you mad? We don’t need–’
Sinclair was cut off as the roar of an airboat engine filled the air, and water sloshed widely from nearby as the grass parted to reveal a gleaming black airboat. Donzig stood on the prow, his coat snapping and swirling wildly before he jabbed a finger at the old man.
‘Boys, find the snakes!’
Sinclair sighed.
