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Snippet #2736696

located in Dystopia, a part of Coming To Fruitia, one of the many universes on RPG.

Dystopia

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mike Mcalister Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Tuva Crane Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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"Well lady and gentlemen, I would say it is a pleasure to meet you if I meant it."
Sgt. Baker yelled over the engine, fists still guiding the heavy truck and eyes straight ahead. Gomer looked boredly on out of his passenger window.

"Specialist Crane! I suggest you drain yourself of any other braggadocios sentiment because where we are going you won't have time to be full of yourself. Do I make myself clear!?" He barked the order in a manner that would give anyone who had been in a boot camp flashbacks.

"As for you Shisa, I hope your idea of fun is making alive things dead, and exploring for what little food we will need once we establish firmer roots in the area. And I must admit, you are a crazy son of a bitch." He chuckled and looked over at Gomer.

"Even shit for brains don't wanna be out here. And he loves killin almost as much as me. Now! As for you , the miscreant who can't stay still!"
He turned his steely gaze back towards Mike, but he was already flying out the door. Gomer whipped his head back as the door behind him opened, him and Sarge looked on for a second. Then, after a split second, they both started laughing hysterically.
"That has to be a new record, right sarge?!" Gomer said. "He didn't even MAKE it there!"

Sarge continued to laugh as well. "That's alright, if he knows better'n me then let him build his own little utopia out there!"
He leaned back in the seat as the door Mike had bailed out of slammed shut.

Gomer was still guffawing like an idiot in the front, as he turned back to the two remaining in the cab.
"One down, two to go!" He laughed again, turning around and beginning to raise his hand towards the volume knob on the radio. His hand was immediately smacked away as Sarge screamed at him.
"I done told you dumb fuck. I'm in charge, and its my damn radio!"
Most of the smoke had cleared out of the cab, but the stubby remains of Sarge's cigar was doing wonders to fill it back up. They bounced along, driver nor navigator giving any clue as to how much longer the drive was to be.