Saturday, November 30, 2013

Shonen Otaku's Diary of Frank West, Day 1 Part 3

I was a little less bummed about the katanas once I finally got out of the North Plaza.  Even if I could use my three katanas at once, they all broke before long because I had to use them to swath through zombies like adventurers do to outgrowths with their machete.

I also had to hike through the gigantic Leisure Park again, which thankfully gave me enough room to maneuver around the zombies.  Of all the things I expect to see in a public park (striped elephants, screaming banshees, salesmen who grant wishes), I never expected what I found.
Teddie!  Sitting right next to a bench, Teddie had somehow been brought back to life!  It was a miracle, but one that soon turned back into a tragedy.  As I frolicked across the field with Teddie in my arms, a zombie attacked us out of absolutely nowhere, and Teddie threw himself at it to defend me, ascending to the heavens once again when he could do no more.

Why?!  Why does fate conspire to separate me from my best friend?!  Why can I not spend just one hour of life with my precious Teddie?!

Teddie’s second death only pushed me further to get the best of these damn zombies, so I picked up a nearby weapon no man, living or dead, stands a chance against: the mighty rock!

Nothing man or beast can defend against the raw density of the earth!  Every time I swing that rock upon the undead, their heads cave in with its divine, perfectly-crafted might!  The only rock more powerful than the one I hold in my hands is Dwayne Johnson, and lifting him would be inconveniently heavy!

With it, I was ready to charge in and brutally bludgeon whatever was giving Brad a hard time, but first I took a moment to mow some of the outside grass.  I’m not sure why.  I think all that detention time mowing lawns at Bullworth Academy has conditioned me to start mowing grass whenever I see a lawnmower.  Some zombies got in the way to the point that they jammed the blade, so I had an excuse to stop.

Honk honk!

The very second I walked into the food court, someone shot at me and I was forced to take cover, conveniently in the same place Brad was.  Luckily he didn’t question my wardrobe consisting of children-sized Ratman clothes, a shaved head, and sunglasses even though it was dark out.  Maybe it’s because he doesn’t think anything can bring down the bald head look.

I knew Brad was under attack before I came in, but I didn’t think it was against someone armed with a gun!  I was ready to get out of there and just leave him, but I never got the chance to slip out.
He tasked me with helping him bring down whoever was shooting at us.  I tried to get out by telling him I’d never fired a gun at a person before, not counting that time I dared my friend to eat a churro off my gun barrel and he bumped my finger, but he didn’t care.

"Your baldness is inferior to my glorious mullet."

I didn’t think I’d have to shoot the guy once I saw who it was.  It was my BFF from earlier!  The one who greeted me when I first arrived!  I thought we could talk things out as friends, so at first I didn’t shoot at him and instead went up to the scaffolding to show him how cool my new rock was by shoving it into his face.

I don’t think he was impressed though.  His response was to shoot me about 9 times at point blank range with his machine gun before roundhouse kicking me 15 feet down to the ground.  Ordinary men would be killed by such injuries, but not I!  I just downed some wine bottles I assume used to be water from the nearby bar and was all better without any kind of adverse effect.  The bullets in me weren’t ejected out of my wounds though, so I’m pretty sure I still have a few grams of metal stuck in my gut.

When I realized that, I also realized that was my BFF’s intention all along.  He wasn’t shooting at us because he wanted to hurt or kill us.  He thought we were underweight and wanted to add some pounds of metal to our body!  My dietician said I needed less iron in my diet, but she’s also the person who told me to “put the gun down”, so screw her!
With that in mind,, I found it only right we return the favor to my BFF with our own bullets.  He is kind of on the skinny side.

Hey kids!  Real guns are where the fun is!  Those Nerf guns are for losers!
It was during the ensuing fire fight and yogurt chug I took at look out the window and saw the sun moving!  Time is moving once again!  In fact, it has been ever since I first entered the food court!  That means the doors in this mall are more than just doors!  They’re all some sort of space-time stabilization device for every area in the mall, and if just one gets jammed, time freezes in place!  It wasn’t until I opened it the jam was fixed and time returned to normal.  I knew the mall was big, but I didn’t realize it was cosmic!

After my BFF gained enough weight, he ran away on some sort of rope to the ceiling, sadly before I got to ask him for his name.  He seemed to be in quite the hurry, so I assume he was late for his cousin’s baby shower.

I asked Brad, but he doesn’t know his name either.  He was ready to just leave me behind, but changed his mind when I flashed my picture of the old jerk.  If Samuel Jackson and Danny Glover have to go undercover, I knew they would be on the lookout for criminals, and based on his actions and Jessie’s reaction, I brilliantly surmised that the old jerk in the entrance was one of the most wanted men in America.  No doubt for assault, rape, and landing pterodactyls on public property.

It turns out Jessie, Brad and I assume Otis, are all agents for the Department of Homeland Security, and they are indeed looking for the old man.  I love being right.

No!  Mine!
We wasted no time in heading back to the entrance plaza to bust the putz.  I could play out what would happen in my head.  We were going to go over to there wearing sunglasses, point our guns at him and say “You’re under arrest.  Sentence: eternity in hell.” Before blowing his brains out and getting a nice brutality shot for Kent.

But no, when we got there, he was grated inside a bookstore and all Brad did was politely ask him to come with us (in the process I learned that his name is Dr. Bumblebee).  Of course, he refused to leave without having a secure way out of the mall.  I could have brought up my helicopter ride, but I was sure the big badass DHS agents had their own.  All we can do now is head back to the security room.  No guns, no convictions.  This sucks.

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