Post by viruswithshoes on Dec 17, 2015 22:40:14 GMT -5
Perched behind a cola sign across from The Scurvy Dog That Bit Ya bar and kennel Zenit Basqiat watched and analyzed what movement of the pirates holed up there he could see through the window. While focusing on the small, slightly grimy window for three hours Zenit noticed four different pirates and one extremely put-upon bartender. The loose fur covered apron was a tip off.
Being something of a cynic, the bald-headed man and nascent bounty hunter assumed that most things started off as jokes and then took on a life of their own, tavern-kennels included. The idea of a trickster deity ruling over them made sense when he thought about his misfortune as well as the enigma that is the duck-billed platypus. Part beaver, part duck and poisonous. Something deadly wrapped up in something silly.
This first attempt at bounty hunting was one of those jokes, as the short man in the black shades found himself teamed up with a rather intense woman and an overabundance of stakeout time.
"So..." he began to trail off before trying to think of something witty.
"This weather, huh? It's really..." he strained to think of a weather-related adjective but they had vanished down the bottomless pit that was his memory and could only think of the bartender's apron. "Furry, you know. Really furry weather."
Finally, an excuse to not make awkward conversation with his bounty hunting partner walked out the tavern door wearing black hakama and t-shirt with the Salty Dog's logo of a dachshund raising a mug that was a size too small and left little to the imagination.
That man became Zenit's hero for a moment so that he wouldn't have to ask his partner about her hobbies. He was a noble and dependable pirate in the young sniper's mind for this act of valor so Zenit shot him in the knee. According to the wanted poster he had photographed earlier this small-shirted man with one bad knee was Zako, no surname or epithet. Five million bounty.
"Come on out," Zenit mumbled to the pirates who could in no way hear him. "Come check on your friend. He's hurt. You're buds, right? Remember the time he-" The fake history of the tavern tarnishing pirates came to an abrupt end when a second pirate, massive in size, six foot something by the short sniper's estimation heeded the call of friendship and checked on his fellow pirate.
Zenit shot him in the head with a rubber bullet, knocking him out. Upon bounty poster comparison the large man seemed to be Milton "Whale Puncher" Criswell. Six million bounty.
The irony that he would remember the names or these men until he died and couldn't remember the name of his partner did not escape the moonlighting tabloid photographer.
"Okay, you're up..." He struggled to remember the name of the woman who would be handling the ass-kicking duties of the duo and failed. uh, Purple Peril. Have at them."
Being something of a cynic, the bald-headed man and nascent bounty hunter assumed that most things started off as jokes and then took on a life of their own, tavern-kennels included. The idea of a trickster deity ruling over them made sense when he thought about his misfortune as well as the enigma that is the duck-billed platypus. Part beaver, part duck and poisonous. Something deadly wrapped up in something silly.
This first attempt at bounty hunting was one of those jokes, as the short man in the black shades found himself teamed up with a rather intense woman and an overabundance of stakeout time.
"So..." he began to trail off before trying to think of something witty.
"This weather, huh? It's really..." he strained to think of a weather-related adjective but they had vanished down the bottomless pit that was his memory and could only think of the bartender's apron. "Furry, you know. Really furry weather."
Finally, an excuse to not make awkward conversation with his bounty hunting partner walked out the tavern door wearing black hakama and t-shirt with the Salty Dog's logo of a dachshund raising a mug that was a size too small and left little to the imagination.
That man became Zenit's hero for a moment so that he wouldn't have to ask his partner about her hobbies. He was a noble and dependable pirate in the young sniper's mind for this act of valor so Zenit shot him in the knee. According to the wanted poster he had photographed earlier this small-shirted man with one bad knee was Zako, no surname or epithet. Five million bounty.
"Come on out," Zenit mumbled to the pirates who could in no way hear him. "Come check on your friend. He's hurt. You're buds, right? Remember the time he-" The fake history of the tavern tarnishing pirates came to an abrupt end when a second pirate, massive in size, six foot something by the short sniper's estimation heeded the call of friendship and checked on his fellow pirate.
Zenit shot him in the head with a rubber bullet, knocking him out. Upon bounty poster comparison the large man seemed to be Milton "Whale Puncher" Criswell. Six million bounty.
The irony that he would remember the names or these men until he died and couldn't remember the name of his partner did not escape the moonlighting tabloid photographer.
"Okay, you're up..." He struggled to remember the name of the woman who would be handling the ass-kicking duties of the duo and failed. uh, Purple Peril. Have at them."