o_x_Shifty_x_o
o_x_Shifty_x_o
o_x_Shifty_x_o
So no s**t, true story, there I was, balls deep in the jungles of Nam with nothing but a coat hanger, some silly string and ten rounds of 25 mm for a Bradley fighting vehicle when up popped these elves asking me if I knew why the sacred banana had been slaughtering infants in a wholesale crusade into the Eye of Terror with a regiment of candy coated hobo-zombies while it rained indoors. Needless to say, I had my work cut out for me. But the rest of the story comes later.
As promised, here's the next installment in the exciting series of "The Adventures of Preliat Militis, the Mandlaorian Shifty Frog of Doom and Stuff and Things!"
The regiment of hobo zombies, mentioned previously were actually quite the sociable bunch and were just the type of people, if that's what they could be called, that I would befriend, though my previous employers were obvious not going to be thrilled at my dubious and unannounced change in loyalties to this war we found ourselves in. Unfortunately for them, Shifty gives not ten shits nor a mouses hind quarters during tax season what others think of him when a profit is visible and that in mind, I banded together with the feisty and homeless devourers of flesh and bone and set off to engage in ravenous games of checkers with the Ottoman empire with the help of my trusty steed and favorite inanimate object, BOB, who will not be around after the show for questions. Together, none were able to stand in our way and, though my weapon jammed in the height of the semi-finals' most exciting moments, I faltered not for I had in my possession the answer to the forbidden question, and my enemies dared not destroy me for their desire to know burned greater then a five year old's backside after bringing home straight D minuses. With that advantage, and the fact that I had a greater need to win then anyone else, I sallied forth, punching them in the face one by one until they cried. Then I felt bad.... But, not wanting to show weakness, I retrieved my weapon, unjammed it and shot them all dad in front of their cousins, a lesson to any who would dare defy the Lord of Change. Revenge fueled their hearts and I knew this battle was not yet won, but I was confident in my ability to murder the innocent and righteous, being a man of faith and a firm believer in Jesus Christ. But, the rest of the story come later...
Well, the sister daughters and brother sons of my most hated foe came at me, swords of pure light screaming chants of devotion to the fell powers of evil and wickedness, yet heed them I did not, for though they may have been powerful temptations they attempted to leak into my subconscious, I had a sworn duty and no one, not even YOU, dear reader, can sway Shifty from his sacred duty. And so, purge them I did, obliterating their flesh with high caliber rounds, finely focused laser weaponry and ordnance enough to shatter worlds, but still they came. In their millions and billions and trillions and quadrillions and quintillion and decillions they came, so many people, I would have lost count were it not for the fact that I counted to infinity twice in one day. And so I set forth, my armor glistening with the life fluids of my fallen foe and many a rabid gerbil at my side to devour the corpses produced by the Factories of Nill with smiles on their grubby faces. Too long had they gone without eating because I am irresponsible and chose to watch tv instead. The enemy prayed to destroy me alone, yet my rodents refused them and they swarmed upon the Servants of the Liar Gods with voracious hunger and the sounds of shrill laughter could be heard from the soon to be dead foe as the furry monsters tickled them with their whiskers, lulling them into false senses of security. Seeing an opportunity to make my get away and return to the real battlefield, I whistled for my Basilisk War Droid. In stead, I got three, one of them being my own and the other two being occupied by my most trusted comrade and brother in arms, the other by my most beloved cyar'ika. Together, the three of us set to the stars to find the nearest apocalyptic battle field to go and ******** s**t UP. Mutha ******** class="clear">
