How Random Babbling Becomes Corporate Policy (t3knomanser) wrote,
How Random Babbling Becomes Corporate Policy



The man in black fled into the Ghetto, and the Lawyer pursued him. The man in black himself was a Lawyer, part of that elite class, the Lawyers, or in the more modern street language, Lawyaz. The man in black was good, a Harvard trained Lawyer, with hundreds of victories under his belt. Still, he ran from the Lawyer.

The man in black slipped into an abandoned building, the facade of which was peppered with bullet holes. The man in black fled here, not in retreat, but in hopes of laying a trap. Even so, he perspired in the way a frightened man would, and the smell of fear was strong on him. From his back, he unslung a PepsiCo Decimator, the last word in Urban Combat. Heat-seeking smart shells that detonated on impact tended to be "the last word" anyone needed.

He flattened himself to the ground, using the Decimator's infrared/xray scope to see through the wall, so that he could see the Lawyer coming, and get the first shot off.

That was when his phone rang. The man in black wet himself when that happened, just a little mind you, and only from the shock of the vibe mode in his pants pocket. Never taking his eyes from the scope on the Decimator, he put the phone to his ear. The voice on the other side made his blood run cold. The Lawyer.

"I see that you've got a Decimator." The thick Brooklyn accent sounded like a death kneel to the man in black. "Didja know dat 'decimate' is Latin, and it means 'to destroy ten poicent'? You don't only want ten poicent of me gone, do ya?"

"I'll... I'll kill you!" Stuttered the man in black, whom was known as Walter.

"No you won't." The voice didn't come from the cellphone. It came from behind him! Walter whirled, hoping against hope that he would get a shot off, but even as he turned, he shat himself. This had nothing to do with his cellphone, which had clattered to the ground, and everything to do with the stinking fear that washed over him.

The Lawyer stood above him, naked to the waist, showing off a torso that gave the term "v-shaped" a new level of absurdity. The Lawyer had a body that could not be troubled with things like a visible kneck, and instead, his head rested upon a knot of muscle and sinew. His arms were broader at the biceps than the normal man's thigh, and muscles rippled. He leveled a weapon that dwarfed the Decimator, as the Lawyer dwarfed the man in black. And staring down the cannon like barrel of the weapon, the Lawyer noticed the product logo- the PepsiCo. Annihilator- the newest model of destructive equiment from the world's largest corporation. "Oh, please god, how much are you getting paid for this? I'm a successful lawyer, I can buy you out of your contract!"

The Lawyer looked down and sneered, moving the toothpick clenched in his lips to the other side of his mouth. "Dis is a pro-bono job."

"Pro-bono? Nobody works pro-bono anymore!"

"I do."

The man in black then saw... blackness.

Apologies to Stephen King for stealing the first line of The Gunslinger for my introduction- and bastardizing it horribly. I kinda want to see a comic book about the Lawyer.

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