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Hot Women in Banks. . . NOT ALLOWED!

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Cosmic Orion, Jun 4, 2010.

  1. Belle

    "Oh good! We are here." She stated as she looked around the neighborhood. It's quiet. "Oh, there she is." She pointed to a figure sitting at the porch of the nearby home.
     
  2. Demi

    I toss my head back and laugh in disbelief. "The fuck? You getting protective of me over there, Chipmunk? That's precious." I ruffle her hair before putting my attention back on the hot chocolate. "And I doubt you gotta worry about that. I'm not looking to be in a relationship anytime soon. Romance is a fucking waste of time," I shrug a little, "And that kinda shit usually doesn't come my way, unless a bone slinging homicidal maniac is the craze these days." I've never had a single crush in my entire life anyways and there's no way in hell I'm gonna let myself get side-tracked from finding Koda.

    I roll my eyes. "Oh yeah, super fucking mature. So mature that you got me chasing your ass down for cuddle wars." Look, I know I contributed to that too, but it's not like I'm gonna admit that shit out loud. "And you're sixteen too? Me too," I shoot her a predatory smirk, "We should drink one of these days. I'd pay an arm and a leg to see you're innocent ass get drunk. God, I bet that shit would be hilarious!" Seriously, what kind of drunk would Helen be? Clingy drunk? Angry drunk? Philosophical drunk? Well, either way, I know she's joking and it's kinda surprising that she's got jokes outside of cutesy stuff.

    When she bumps my shoulder I automatically bump back, as if we've been doing this for years or something. I almost roll my eyes again--she's still hung up on the incident. And here I'm thinking we're finally over this. "Oh yeah, cuz I definitely haven't forgiven ya after A, picking ya up into a monster hug. B, letting you hug me back. And C, sharing some hot chocolate with ya. Listen to me loud and clear, Chipmunk."

    I pin her down with the most honest look I can muster, though that probably isn't much, and say sternly, "You. Are. Forgiven. So let it the fuck go, got it?"
     
  3. For once I agree with our racist friend.
     
  4. Logan kept walking as the snow fall slowly got heavier. It was already starting to settle on the ground. It didn't help that every flurry of the wind drove a cold sensation up his spine and through his entire back. He pulled the thick jacket tighter around himself.

    "Fucking cold," he complained.

    The wind whipped up and sent more shivers along his spine.

    "Fucking wind."

    He trudged over to a nearby building. An abandoned house with broken windows and billowing curtains. Vines had overgrown one wall and were slowly climbing their way up towards the roof. Whoever had lived here before had long since left. There would be nothing for Logan here. Already looted. The door had been knocked off its hinges. Downstairs, with broken windows and door, would let the cold wind in. But upstairs, at least, should shield him from the weather. And all the better that it looked abandoned and dilapidated. No one would think to look for people in a house this ruined.

    Logan stepped inside, the wooden floorboards creaking under his weight.

    "Ugh." Something smells rotten.

    Water damage, no doubt, had lead to rotting beneath the floors and inside the walls. Maybe staying in this house would not be for the best. A blustering wind swept by the doorway and howled all through the house. He had to get out of this cold.

    And more howling shortly afterwards. But not of wind. Of wolves. The disease had wrought horrors on people. But animals had gone by relatively unscathed. And many had started to move into old human towns and cities. This first wolf howl was replied to by a second wolf howl further away. Hopefully they were not headed this way.

    No choice but to wait out the night, the snow storm, and maybe even the wolves in this house. He walked through the forgotten home. Family pictures on the floor in piles of broken frames and shattered glass. Logan found the stair case through the living room and in the hallway. A narrow set of steps with a single white painted railing. He climbed the long stairs up. Three doors lead away from the landing.

    He pulled a gun from his left shoulder holster and approached the nearest door. With a kick the door was smashed open with a loud thud. An empty room. Logan moved over to the second door. Repeating himself: Kicking the door, watching it swing open with a loud crash against the wall, to find another empty bedroom. He moved over to the last door. With a kick this one fell off its hinges into a pile of splinters on the floor. He had found the upstairs bathroom. Ruined, water damaged. The cabinet above the sink left open, empty pill bottles scattered. Someone had raided it in search of something to get high, no doubt.

    The house was empty. Only him, only Logan alone in the memory of what had once been someone else's home. He returned to the first bedroom looked it over. Shattered windows, letting in the cold wind. The second room had only one small window with a, broken hole in the corner. He would rest here.
     
  5. He heard a voice from outside. Someone was out there, in the cold. They sounded panicked. Logan pulled his pistol out again, brandishing in his right hand, supporting his aim with his left. He aimed at the doorway to the room. If they, if she, came up here and saw him... He had seen traps before. It wasn't too uncommon for a gang to use pretty women in distress as a lure. Poor, innocent fools often fell for it. Logan had heard only one voice. But she was talking to someone. He slowed his breathing with practiced care. Focusing on the doorway.

    Every part of his body screamed danger! People were danger. He heard the floorboards creak as she entered the house. Heard her footsteps on the stair case. But waiting in this room with no way out could see him trapped inside. While anyone could be waiting out there for him. And he had to leave eventually.

    Logan slowly approached the doorway. Gun at the ready. His breaths deep, slow, steady. As he passed through the doorway he exhaled in one long go, ready to pull the trigger. Until he saw the girl on the stairs. And only the girl.

    "Are you alone?" he asked, his voice deep, rough.
     
  6. I'll support hot single moms....IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.


    Also, I found a pic of the bank manager when people tried to talk to him about his decision:


    [​IMG]


    And then he flew off into the sky with his umbrella, leaving behind a rainbow trail that said LOL U MAD?
     
  7. 0.o;

    YOU FOUND MY BIRTH MOM?!
     
  8. Didn't know you were looking. O.o;
     
  9. Discrimination against beautiful people? I like where this is going.




    Also, WHERE IS THE MONKEY, PHIL?! YOU KNOW YOU CAN'T MAKE VIDJOES WITHOUT THE MONKEY
     
  10. The irony of this video is that while you're watching it you are being spammed with a whole fuckton of shittybank propaganda on the bottom of the screen. HURRAY REACTIVE MARKETING.