That like 100k to change a username right?
^/Proud Leader of Notorious/ https://forum.toribash.com/forumdisplay.php?f=831
"As the airgets colder with each passing day and life outside comes dribbling to halt, theemployees of the East Brunswick Red Lobster on Highway 18 grow more and moresomber. It won't be long until their dimly-lit enclave of casual dining isgutted from the inside out, forcing them to tread the streets at night and seewhere else they can ply their trade. The cooks are particularly despondent.With leathery, salt-caked hands, they prepare each dish with a glint oftrepidation in their eyes. For years, they've felt secure in their pursuit ofculinary mediocrity. Nowadays, however, they know they could be out the door atany moment.
Ed Lauzon: NewEngland Clam Chowder. Extra potatoes, hold the semen. Got it.
A slightly builtman with an Anton LaVey beard, Lauzon is the undisputed darling of the kitchen.With the grace of a sand dancer and the speed of a panther, he weavesto-and-fro in the bustling backrooms of the restaurant, greasing every cog ofthe operation wherever he can. He's the linchpin of the entire outfit, the manwho keeps everything running smoothly. In this little microcosm of acookie-cutter seafood eatery, nobody stands taller. Everywhere else, however,he is nothing. That's why more than any other employee, he's terrified of hiscompany's imminent death and what that means for his future. As each dismalworkday passes, he can't help but think about all the years he's toiled, notonly to earn a living but also to mean something to SOMEBODY... All fornothing.
The dreadparalyses his mind and spirit, making his chest tighten like a wind-up toy.Still, the show must go on.
Ed Lauzon: Ithink the new waiter, Mark, ate most of the parsley during his break, butthat's ok. I can just use the cheese grater on a green sponge over the soup andthe customer won't know the difference.
Dane Mullark:You better get a new pack from the basement, then. I used up all the sponges wehad to soak up Riley's vaginal discharge in the stove.
Ed Lauzon:Alright.
Lauzon hangs uphis apron and steps out onto the main floor, a vacant expression hanging heavyon his face. He makes sure to grab the greeter's ass as he trudges towards thebasement door, but it's more out of unconscious habit than anything else. Thelights downstairs haven't been replaced in an eternity due to his boss'sapathy, so he needs to pick up the flashlight on the ledge before going down.The rail-less staircase shakes like a fun house floor as he descends into thefrigid cellar below. It's almost unthinkable that such a cozy family restaurantcould rest on top of such a dilapidated crypt. Walking downstairs is likewalking into Hell. A desolate, icy Hell where souls burn out rather thansuffer.
Lauzon placidlyscans the storage wall with his light to see where he can find the sponges he'slooking for. He sees a yellow pack, but they won't do. By the looks of things,he may have to dig through the trash upstairs and just use the ones full ofRiley's Chlamydia pus. Before turning around, however, Lauzon idly wonders howfar back the basement actually goes. Normally he wouldn't lollygag whilethere's work to be done, but the inevitable layoff that's been looming over himhas eroded his conscientiousness somewhat in recent weeks.
Walking downdeeper into the barren tomb that normally stays hidden beneath his feet, Lauzoncuriously looks around to find anything of interest. There is nothing. It'sapparent the restaurant only uses the area around the bottom of the steps forstorage, but the addled chef continues penetrating further and further into thedarkness just to kill time. It takes several minutes of mindless wanderingbefore Lauzon snaps out of his trance and decides to go back upstairs. He'sjust about to turn around when he suddenly hears a peculiar noise emanatingfrom the black depths of the cellar.
"Motherfucker!"
Lauzon spins onhis heels and shines his light on a door he had previously passed over. Hewarily looks at the plywood entranceway, uncertain if the sound had really comefrom the basement or if he's just overhearing an argument from the dining floorabove.
"Motherfucker!!!"
That one was asclear as day. He hadn't heard a damn thing from the world above the whole timehe was down here, anyway. Tensely edging towards the door, not wanting to makea sound himself, Lauzon gingerly pulls on the latch to get a peak into the nextroom. When the rusted hinges fail to budge, he pulls on the door harder andends up ripping the whole blasted thing off its frame. Lauzon doesn't have timeto curse himself as his mind is far too overwhelmed by what he sees behind thehole he had just opened up in the side of the wall.
Ed Lauzon: BABYFUCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!
The hideous,mangled body plastered on the ground looks as if it had been beaten for hoursbefore passing away. Compound fractures jutting from the corpse's mush-likelimbs give the stiff the appearance of something alien. Lauzon throws upslightly in his mouth, just as much because of the smell as the sight of therepulsive crime. A mound of feces prevents the frozen chef from making out thevictim's face, prompting Lauzon again to throw up in his mouth when he realizessomeone (Or something) had shit on this man's face after beating him to death.
Scanning evenmore of the room with his light, Lauzon horrifiedly finds what looks like adozen similar corpses scattered all across the ground. Several are shirtlesslike the first one, but some are wearing what appear to be bloodied karateuniforms. Lauzon doesn't even try to figure out what he's looking at. All hismind is trying to do right now is tell him to move his legs towards the stairsand get the fuck out of there, but his body simply doesn't respond. As hestands glued to the ground, hands quivering like a Parkinson's patient's,Lauzon suddenly realizes the sound he had heard before is growing louder andlouder now.
"Motherfucker!"
"Motherfucker!!!"
"MOTHERFUCKER!!!"
A New Zealandman with wild, mangy hair suddenly bursts from a room adjacent to the oneLauzon's looking into and dives into the corpses scattered on the ground,immediately followed by a massive person in a Snoopy costume wildly wavingaround a hatchet. The leather jacket clad Polynesian man continues to shout"Motherfucker" as his Peanuts-garbed opponent jumps onto his back andpulls his head up by the hair, exposing the vulnerable and tender flesh of hisneck for him to attack. Without hesitating, the costumed madman slashes throughhis victim's trachea with the mercilessly sharp blade of his ax. Blood poursfrom the man's neck like a faucet, inundating the grimy basement floor andcovering the corpses beneath him in a warm, viscous layer of crimson. Despitethe brutal injury, the rabid-eyed New Zealander manages to crawl up to a baseand buck his enemy off to the ground before making a beeline towards the exit.
Ed Lauzon'sentire body quakes as foam spurts from his mouth. He's been seduced severaltimes before in his life. He's had Riley suck his dick in the electric closet.Never has he experienced a sexual awakening like THIS. The violently bleedingstranger clutches his throat as he storms passed the chef and runs blindly intothe darkness of the apparently depthless cellar. The giant Snoopy-man (WhomLauzon can now see is also bleeding pretty badly from the stomach) quicklyfollows, charging across the cement floor to catch his prey and finish the job.After several moments, Lauzon's legs FINALLY start working again and he begins togive chase himself. There's no way in Hell he can miss the conclusion of thisordeal, even if it's painful as shit trying to run with an erection."
"Rushingthrough the blackness, his light waving around haphazardly, Lauzon makes itback to the base of the stairs. Both of those guys must've been former collegeball players to have made it up to the lobby that fast, he thinks. Creeping uptowards the top, he peers around to see what kind of action is unfolding butcan't get a good look while all the patrons in the restaurant are franticallyrambling around and trying to escape.
Dane Mullark:Jesus Christ, run!!! RUN!!!
Lauzonimpatiently stands up and pushes back against the terrified diners. As hemanages to claw his way into the seating area, he can see the costumedjuggernaut ripping apart the joint in a violent effort to find his woundedenemy. Several patrons still remain curled up beneath their booths, tooparalyzed with abject terror to flee from underneath the sanctity of theirtables. Lauzon ignores them and keeps his attention fixated on the gigantic,wanton hunter's pursuit. Just as the chef begins pondering whether or not theslashed-up New Zealander had fled the restaurant along with the crowd, themangled bohemian suddenly appears at the top of a divider and furiously hurlshimself into Snoopy with a jagged steak knife in his hand.
Eddie Cobis: IWILL FUCKING END YOU!
Both fighterssprawl onto the ground, their respective weapons firmly in their grasp. Lauzonsmiles and nods, certain that he is about to witness one or both of these mendie. The wound on Cobis' throat is vicious, but it's not an arterial cut. He'snot going to bleed out any time soon, and as of now he has the drop on hisgargantuan foe. Like a well-oiled piston, he jabs his serrated blade into thebroad torso of Snoopy. Gurgling loudly beneath his mask, the costumed brawlerseems helplessly pinned underneath his mighty Polynesian opponent. The hatchetlimply falls from his grip, forgotten in the midst of Cobis' heinous assault.
The NewZealander happily digs into Snoopy's chest, certain he'll tap the heart sooneror later and put his opponent out of action for good. The mammoth brawler'sdextrocardia, however, keeps Cobis from hitting the jackpot. Mustering strengthpreviously unknown to him, Snoopy bucks Cobis' hips away and achieves fullguard. Cobis, still convinced he's on the brink of victory, continues trying tomindlessly cut into Snoopy's ocean of a chest only to have the costumedbehemoth swivel his hips and lock onto a weary armbar. This maneuver takes thecrazy-haired blademan completely off guard, causing him to wildly flail aboutand only feed into the lock more. Snoopy's long, supremely powerful limbs makeCobis' arm pop and crackle immediately, forcing the knife to drop out of hisgrasp and slide down to the debris-strewn floor with Snoopy's own hatchet.
As Lauzoncontinues watching in erotic fascination, his hands unconsciously unbuttoninghis trousers, a petite, blonde-haired woman unexpectedly bursts through thefront door of the restaurant wielding a 9mm pistol. Lauzon's heart jumps as theangry, exacerbated woman takes aim at the two combatants. She has a frighteninglook in her eyes that would give Ronda Rousey's pre-fight Death Gaze a run forher money.
Snowjay: I am anoff-duty police officer! Surrender immediately or I'll turn you both intomaggot-shit!
Ed Lauzon: NO!NO! THIS HAS TO END CONCLUSIVELY!
With a hellishwar cry, the meek chef unleashes a mind-blowingly powerful hook kick to thewoman's skull. She's out before she hits the floor, but that doesn't stopLauzon from jumping on her chest and lashing out with a vicious palm strike toher mouth for good measure. After that last blow knocked the woman's jaw out ofit's socket, he freezes in place and stares at his handiwork in astonishmentfor several moments, amazed at the picturesque violence he had just committed.Standing back up, Lauzon picks the woman's weapon off the ground for himselfand calmly gazes back at the two warriors to witness the conclusion of theirbattle.
Eddie Cobis: ...Motherfucker... Motherfucker...
Snoopy is ontop, hatchet in hand. Cobis' arms are too useless to defend what's coming next.Lauzon doesn't even have time to pop a boner again before the New Zealander'sface is transformed into a sculpture of the San Andreas fault.
"Sumo"Snoopy Boardbreaker: *ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!*
The hacking goeson longer than it logically should. After a while, Cobis' face has been splitapart so deeply that Snoopy is basically just scraping the floor. Lauzon soaksin every minute of it, though, an unrelentingly blissful smile attached to hisface. For the first time in weeks, he's not afraid of the future. Whatever thiscostumed powerhouse is, that's what Lauzon is going to be. A fighter? Apsychopath? Both? Lauzon isn't sure what job title these two men go by, buthe'll learn the vernacular. His life is not winding down, not at all. Red Lobsterwas just a prelude to the most glorious and joyful years of his existence. LikeSnoopy over there on the floor, he intends to be a master of his craft.
I amPitFighter."
-ThePinkMan
Ed Lauzon: NewEngland Clam Chowder. Extra potatoes, hold the semen. Got it.
A slightly builtman with an Anton LaVey beard, Lauzon is the undisputed darling of the kitchen.With the grace of a sand dancer and the speed of a panther, he weavesto-and-fro in the bustling backrooms of the restaurant, greasing every cog ofthe operation wherever he can. He's the linchpin of the entire outfit, the manwho keeps everything running smoothly. In this little microcosm of acookie-cutter seafood eatery, nobody stands taller. Everywhere else, however,he is nothing. That's why more than any other employee, he's terrified of hiscompany's imminent death and what that means for his future. As each dismalworkday passes, he can't help but think about all the years he's toiled, notonly to earn a living but also to mean something to SOMEBODY... All fornothing.
The dreadparalyses his mind and spirit, making his chest tighten like a wind-up toy.Still, the show must go on.
Ed Lauzon: Ithink the new waiter, Mark, ate most of the parsley during his break, butthat's ok. I can just use the cheese grater on a green sponge over the soup andthe customer won't know the difference.
Dane Mullark:You better get a new pack from the basement, then. I used up all the sponges wehad to soak up Riley's vaginal discharge in the stove.
Ed Lauzon:Alright.
Lauzon hangs uphis apron and steps out onto the main floor, a vacant expression hanging heavyon his face. He makes sure to grab the greeter's ass as he trudges towards thebasement door, but it's more out of unconscious habit than anything else. Thelights downstairs haven't been replaced in an eternity due to his boss'sapathy, so he needs to pick up the flashlight on the ledge before going down.The rail-less staircase shakes like a fun house floor as he descends into thefrigid cellar below. It's almost unthinkable that such a cozy family restaurantcould rest on top of such a dilapidated crypt. Walking downstairs is likewalking into Hell. A desolate, icy Hell where souls burn out rather thansuffer.
Lauzon placidlyscans the storage wall with his light to see where he can find the sponges he'slooking for. He sees a yellow pack, but they won't do. By the looks of things,he may have to dig through the trash upstairs and just use the ones full ofRiley's Chlamydia pus. Before turning around, however, Lauzon idly wonders howfar back the basement actually goes. Normally he wouldn't lollygag whilethere's work to be done, but the inevitable layoff that's been looming over himhas eroded his conscientiousness somewhat in recent weeks.
Walking downdeeper into the barren tomb that normally stays hidden beneath his feet, Lauzoncuriously looks around to find anything of interest. There is nothing. It'sapparent the restaurant only uses the area around the bottom of the steps forstorage, but the addled chef continues penetrating further and further into thedarkness just to kill time. It takes several minutes of mindless wanderingbefore Lauzon snaps out of his trance and decides to go back upstairs. He'sjust about to turn around when he suddenly hears a peculiar noise emanatingfrom the black depths of the cellar.
"Motherfucker!"
Lauzon spins onhis heels and shines his light on a door he had previously passed over. Hewarily looks at the plywood entranceway, uncertain if the sound had really comefrom the basement or if he's just overhearing an argument from the dining floorabove.
"Motherfucker!!!"
That one was asclear as day. He hadn't heard a damn thing from the world above the whole timehe was down here, anyway. Tensely edging towards the door, not wanting to makea sound himself, Lauzon gingerly pulls on the latch to get a peak into the nextroom. When the rusted hinges fail to budge, he pulls on the door harder andends up ripping the whole blasted thing off its frame. Lauzon doesn't have timeto curse himself as his mind is far too overwhelmed by what he sees behind thehole he had just opened up in the side of the wall.
Ed Lauzon: BABYFUCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!
The hideous,mangled body plastered on the ground looks as if it had been beaten for hoursbefore passing away. Compound fractures jutting from the corpse's mush-likelimbs give the stiff the appearance of something alien. Lauzon throws upslightly in his mouth, just as much because of the smell as the sight of therepulsive crime. A mound of feces prevents the frozen chef from making out thevictim's face, prompting Lauzon again to throw up in his mouth when he realizessomeone (Or something) had shit on this man's face after beating him to death.
Scanning evenmore of the room with his light, Lauzon horrifiedly finds what looks like adozen similar corpses scattered all across the ground. Several are shirtlesslike the first one, but some are wearing what appear to be bloodied karateuniforms. Lauzon doesn't even try to figure out what he's looking at. All hismind is trying to do right now is tell him to move his legs towards the stairsand get the fuck out of there, but his body simply doesn't respond. As hestands glued to the ground, hands quivering like a Parkinson's patient's,Lauzon suddenly realizes the sound he had heard before is growing louder andlouder now.
"Motherfucker!"
"Motherfucker!!!"
"MOTHERFUCKER!!!"
A New Zealandman with wild, mangy hair suddenly bursts from a room adjacent to the oneLauzon's looking into and dives into the corpses scattered on the ground,immediately followed by a massive person in a Snoopy costume wildly wavingaround a hatchet. The leather jacket clad Polynesian man continues to shout"Motherfucker" as his Peanuts-garbed opponent jumps onto his back andpulls his head up by the hair, exposing the vulnerable and tender flesh of hisneck for him to attack. Without hesitating, the costumed madman slashes throughhis victim's trachea with the mercilessly sharp blade of his ax. Blood poursfrom the man's neck like a faucet, inundating the grimy basement floor andcovering the corpses beneath him in a warm, viscous layer of crimson. Despitethe brutal injury, the rabid-eyed New Zealander manages to crawl up to a baseand buck his enemy off to the ground before making a beeline towards the exit.
Ed Lauzon'sentire body quakes as foam spurts from his mouth. He's been seduced severaltimes before in his life. He's had Riley suck his dick in the electric closet.Never has he experienced a sexual awakening like THIS. The violently bleedingstranger clutches his throat as he storms passed the chef and runs blindly intothe darkness of the apparently depthless cellar. The giant Snoopy-man (WhomLauzon can now see is also bleeding pretty badly from the stomach) quicklyfollows, charging across the cement floor to catch his prey and finish the job.After several moments, Lauzon's legs FINALLY start working again and he begins togive chase himself. There's no way in Hell he can miss the conclusion of thisordeal, even if it's painful as shit trying to run with an erection."
"Rushingthrough the blackness, his light waving around haphazardly, Lauzon makes itback to the base of the stairs. Both of those guys must've been former collegeball players to have made it up to the lobby that fast, he thinks. Creeping uptowards the top, he peers around to see what kind of action is unfolding butcan't get a good look while all the patrons in the restaurant are franticallyrambling around and trying to escape.
Dane Mullark:Jesus Christ, run!!! RUN!!!
Lauzonimpatiently stands up and pushes back against the terrified diners. As hemanages to claw his way into the seating area, he can see the costumedjuggernaut ripping apart the joint in a violent effort to find his woundedenemy. Several patrons still remain curled up beneath their booths, tooparalyzed with abject terror to flee from underneath the sanctity of theirtables. Lauzon ignores them and keeps his attention fixated on the gigantic,wanton hunter's pursuit. Just as the chef begins pondering whether or not theslashed-up New Zealander had fled the restaurant along with the crowd, themangled bohemian suddenly appears at the top of a divider and furiously hurlshimself into Snoopy with a jagged steak knife in his hand.
Eddie Cobis: IWILL FUCKING END YOU!
Both fighterssprawl onto the ground, their respective weapons firmly in their grasp. Lauzonsmiles and nods, certain that he is about to witness one or both of these mendie. The wound on Cobis' throat is vicious, but it's not an arterial cut. He'snot going to bleed out any time soon, and as of now he has the drop on hisgargantuan foe. Like a well-oiled piston, he jabs his serrated blade into thebroad torso of Snoopy. Gurgling loudly beneath his mask, the costumed brawlerseems helplessly pinned underneath his mighty Polynesian opponent. The hatchetlimply falls from his grip, forgotten in the midst of Cobis' heinous assault.
The NewZealander happily digs into Snoopy's chest, certain he'll tap the heart sooneror later and put his opponent out of action for good. The mammoth brawler'sdextrocardia, however, keeps Cobis from hitting the jackpot. Mustering strengthpreviously unknown to him, Snoopy bucks Cobis' hips away and achieves fullguard. Cobis, still convinced he's on the brink of victory, continues trying tomindlessly cut into Snoopy's ocean of a chest only to have the costumedbehemoth swivel his hips and lock onto a weary armbar. This maneuver takes thecrazy-haired blademan completely off guard, causing him to wildly flail aboutand only feed into the lock more. Snoopy's long, supremely powerful limbs makeCobis' arm pop and crackle immediately, forcing the knife to drop out of hisgrasp and slide down to the debris-strewn floor with Snoopy's own hatchet.
As Lauzoncontinues watching in erotic fascination, his hands unconsciously unbuttoninghis trousers, a petite, blonde-haired woman unexpectedly bursts through thefront door of the restaurant wielding a 9mm pistol. Lauzon's heart jumps as theangry, exacerbated woman takes aim at the two combatants. She has a frighteninglook in her eyes that would give Ronda Rousey's pre-fight Death Gaze a run forher money.
Snowjay: I am anoff-duty police officer! Surrender immediately or I'll turn you both intomaggot-shit!
Ed Lauzon: NO!NO! THIS HAS TO END CONCLUSIVELY!
With a hellishwar cry, the meek chef unleashes a mind-blowingly powerful hook kick to thewoman's skull. She's out before she hits the floor, but that doesn't stopLauzon from jumping on her chest and lashing out with a vicious palm strike toher mouth for good measure. After that last blow knocked the woman's jaw out ofit's socket, he freezes in place and stares at his handiwork in astonishmentfor several moments, amazed at the picturesque violence he had just committed.Standing back up, Lauzon picks the woman's weapon off the ground for himselfand calmly gazes back at the two warriors to witness the conclusion of theirbattle.
Eddie Cobis: ...Motherfucker... Motherfucker...
Snoopy is ontop, hatchet in hand. Cobis' arms are too useless to defend what's coming next.Lauzon doesn't even have time to pop a boner again before the New Zealander'sface is transformed into a sculpture of the San Andreas fault.
"Sumo"Snoopy Boardbreaker: *ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!*
The hacking goeson longer than it logically should. After a while, Cobis' face has been splitapart so deeply that Snoopy is basically just scraping the floor. Lauzon soaksin every minute of it, though, an unrelentingly blissful smile attached to hisface. For the first time in weeks, he's not afraid of the future. Whatever thiscostumed powerhouse is, that's what Lauzon is going to be. A fighter? Apsychopath? Both? Lauzon isn't sure what job title these two men go by, buthe'll learn the vernacular. His life is not winding down, not at all. Red Lobsterwas just a prelude to the most glorious and joyful years of his existence. LikeSnoopy over there on the floor, he intends to be a master of his craft.
I amPitFighter."
-ThePinkMan
