David as the Writer
Just Shoot Me
"Are you sure you want me to do this, boss."
"For the last time this suit is made of spider silk it's a strong as Kevlar. Even if the protections spells fail that gun is still going to do far less damage to me than it would to a person who doesn't have bark for skin."
"Ok but why are we doing this?"
"Because the other day, somebody decided not to attack the enemy when he had the element of surprise and instead of fighting them inside the building, the people I wanted dead came outside and shot me!"
"And because of that you want me to shoot you?"
"No, I want you to shoot me so that you understand what you are doing when you don't listen to me."
I looked up at the tall thin man in front of me. You'd never know it to look at him but the man could rip through bank vaults if he wanted to. I had seen him run faster than Olympic sprinters. He should be the perfect body guard. The only problem I had ever had with him until the other day was that he tended to burst into combat without really thinking about it. Well that and the incident at Scyldinga Corp. He really needs to learn that there are other meanings to the phrase "take care of it."
I looked him square in the eyes and said, "Shoot." Bishop raised his Glok to be level with my chest. "Wait a second. Little to the left, just in case. Don't want to accidently shoot anything we can't fix." He didn't adjust his aim. The bullet left the barrel with a just satisfying POP! And then hit the floor with a supremely enjoyable DING!
I looked down at the spot on my chest where Bishop had shot. Not a mark. There was no hole, no powder burns. Hell, it wasn't even wrinkled! "Let's try something a little bigger." Bishop picked up his desert eagle and shot me in the chest again still not a mark. We tried a rifle next. Same thing. Bishop reached for the last weapon on the rack, a WW2 Soviet Anti Bunker Sniper Rifle. He backed up to one side of the room. Took careful aim and fired. The slug hit me like car and threw me to the other side of the room when it exploded. I clutched my side as I got up. "That's gonna bruise in a fun way."
"BRUISE?!" said Bishop, "Do you even know what I just shot you with?! When they made this weapon all they did was put a scope on an ANTI-TANK RIFLE!. That should have killed you along with anyone nearby. Why do you think I stepped back when I shot you!
There was a buzzing sound from the intercom. "Mister Westbrook, your 7 o'clock is here."
I went over to the door and pushed the intercom call button. "Send her in."
The door opened and a strikingly beautiful woman strode in. Every stitch of her clothing was made of hand stitched leather. The arms of her jacket had slits that could be snapped together to close up the jacket. Her pants were had similar markings up to the thigh. Her hair was a deep shade of auburn that reminded me of autumn leaves. "Mister Westbrook, it is a privilege to be working with you." Her voice was deep and sounded vaguely foreign. Russian, maybe? "My name is Inobaria Zahak. You called about some work that needed doing."
"Yes. It has come to my attention that my current security detail might not be enough to keep me safe from my competitors."
"If you keep on asking me to shoot you it won't." Bishop whispered.
"What was that?" I asked feigning ignorance.
"I said you only need one body guard." Bishop replied.
"Alright," I said. "You're free to go."
"That's not what I meant." shouted Bishop.
"Then please only say what you mean." I shot back.
"He's just worried that he won't beagle to keep up with me." said Inobaria. "Most men worry about that. Most men should."
"I am the best at what I do." Bishop responded.
"Calm down there Wolverine. I'm going to need both of you."There are plenty of hours to go around."
There was another buzz from the intercom. "Mister Westbrook. Mister Smith is on the line for you. He says it's urgent."
I went into the next room to take the call.
That night at midnight Bishop, Inobaria and I were at the pier with a brief case full of money, because apparently sometimes I have to do my own legwork. At the end of the dock we saw a figure standing in shadow. He was about 6 foot tall which made him taller than me but smaller than my escorts. He opened his mouth and his breath smelt like rotting fish. "Hello, Mister Westbrook. I trust you have what I came here for.
I slid the case across the dock to him. "One million dollars as promised. Now keep that stuff out of my town."
"You're not really good at this are you? You never give the money before you get what you want." He reached down to pick up the suit case and we saw clawed hands climbing up the dock.
"Bishop would you tell him what usually happens when someone tries to pull this shit."
"Yeah, you just stand there and say, 'Gee Bishop it sure is a good thing you brought that minigun with you.' And then I go like this!" Bishop flipped the minigun from off of his back and started spraying everything in front of him with bullets.
When everything was dead, I walked forward a head of the group to get my suitcase back. That's when everything went dark. I felt something grab at the base of my suit jacket and suddenly my face and head were completely covered by it. I heard the sound of soggy boots hitting the deck as surely more of these creatures had arrived of the ambush. There was a guttural roar and a flash of heat as something else started screaming. Lightning crashed on the dock in the cloudless night and soon the world was quiet again. "You're all alone now you son of a bitch." Bishop called.
"I may be alone but you're empty and I have his throat." Said the man in my ear. My skin sizzled as he touched a blade which I was now certain contained cold iron, to my throat.
"I have another gun." said Bishop. There was a shuffling sound and I heard the bolt click in a rifle.
"That is a gun from my country. It's a bunker buster you'll kill them both." came the solid Russian voice of Inobaria.
Bishop spoke again.”Are you sure you want me to do this, boss."
"For the last time this suit is made of spider silk it's a strong as Kevlar. Even if the protections spells fail that gun is still going to do far less damage to me than it would to a person who doesn't have bark for skin."
"Ok but why are we doing this?"
"Because the other day, somebody decided not to attack the enemy when he had the element of surprise and instead of fighting them inside the building, the people I wanted dead came outside and shot me!"
"And because of that you want me to shoot you?"
"No, I want you to shoot me so that you understand what you are doing when you don't listen to me."
I looked up at the tall thin man in front of me. You'd never know it to look at him but the man could rip through bank vaults if he wanted to. I had seen him run faster than Olympic sprinters. He should be the perfect body guard. The only problem I had ever had with him until the other day was that he tended to burst into combat without really thinking about it. Well that and the incident at Scyldinga Corp. He really needs to learn that there are other meanings to the phrase "take care of it."
I looked him square in the eyes and said, "Shoot." Bishop raised his Glok to be level with my chest. "Wait a second. Little to the left, just in case. Don't want to accidently shoot anything we can't fix." He didn't adjust his aim. The bullet left the barrel with a just satisfying POP! And then hit the floor with a supremely enjoyable DING!
I looked down at the spot on my chest where Bishop had shot. Not a mark. There was no hole, no powder burns. Hell, it wasn't even wrinkled! "Let's try something a little bigger." Bishop picked up his desert eagle and shot me in the chest again still not a mark. We tried a rifle next. Same thing. Bishop reached for the last weapon on the rack, a WW2 Soviet Anti Bunker Sniper Rifle. He backed up to one side of the room. Took careful aim and fired. The slug hit me like car and threw me to the other side of the room when it exploded. I clutched my side as I got up. "That's gonna bruise in a fun way."
"BRUISE?!" said Bishop, "Do you even know what I just shot you with?! When they made this weapon all they did was put a scope on an ANTI-TANK RIFLE!. That should have killed you along with anyone nearby. Why do you think I stepped back when I shot you!
There was a buzzing sound from the intercom. "Mister Westbrook, your 7 o'clock is here."
I went over to the door and pushed the intercom call button. "Send her in."
The door opened and a strikingly beautiful woman strode in. Every stitch of her clothing was made of hand stitched leather. The arms of her jacket had slits that could be snapped together to close up the jacket. Her pants were had similar markings up to the thigh. Her hair was a deep shade of auburn that reminded me of autumn leaves. "Mister Westbrook, it is a privilege to be working with you." Her voice was deep and sounded vaguely foreign. Russian, maybe? "My name is Inobaria Zahak. You called about some work that needed doing."
"Yes. It has come to my attention that my current security detail might not be enough to keep me safe from my competitors."
"If you keep on asking me to shoot you it won't." Bishop whispered.
"What was that?" I asked feigning ignorance.
"I said you only need one body guard." Bishop replied.
"Alright," I said. "You're free to go."
"That's not what I meant." shouted Bishop.
"Then please only say what you mean." I shot back.
"He's just worried that he won't beagle to keep up with me." said Inobaria. "Most men worry about that. Most men should."
"I am the best at what I do." Bishop responded.
"Calm down there Wolverine. I'm going to need both of you."There are plenty of hours to go around."
There was another buzz from the intercom. "Mister Westbrook. Mister Smith is on the line for you. He says it's urgent."
I went into the next room to take the call.
That night at midnight Bishop, Inobaria and I were at the pier with a brief case full of money, because apparently sometimes I have to do my own legwork. At the end of the dock we saw a figure standing in shadow. He was about 6 foot tall which made him taller than me but smaller than my escorts. He opened his mouth and his breath smelt like rotting fish. "Hello, Mister Westbrook. I trust you have what I came here for.
I slid the case across the dock to him. "One million dollars as promised. Now keep that stuff out of my town."
"You're not really good at this are you? You never give the money before you get what you want." He reached down to pick up the suit case and we saw clawed hands climbing up the dock.
"Bishop would you tell him what usually happens when someone tries to pull this shit."
"Yeah, you just stand there and say, 'Gee Bishop it sure is a good thing you brought that minigun with you.' And then I go like this!" Bishop flipped the minigun from off of his back and started spraying everything in front of him with bullets.
When everything was dead, I walked forward a head of the group to get my suitcase back. That's when everything went dark. I felt something grab at the base of my suit jacket and suddenly my face and head were completely covered by it. I heard the sound of soggy boots hitting the deck as surely more of these creatures had arrived of the ambush. There was a guttural roar and a flash of heat as something else started screaming. Lightning crashed on the dock in the cloudless night and soon the world was quiet again. "You're all alone now you son of a bitch." Bishop called.
"I may be alone but you're empty and I have his throat." Said the man in my ear. My skin sizzled as he touched a blade which I was now certain contained cold iron, to my throat.
"I have another gun." said Bishop. There was a shuffling sound and I heard the bolt click in a rifle.
"That is a gun from my country. It's a bunker buster you'll kill them both." came the solid Russian voice of Inobaria.
Bishop spoke again.”Are you sure you want me to do this, boss."