Greetings, friend. It is I, The unassailable, unavoidable, completely annoying, "desert snake" Doc. During my stay out here in the vast (and nuclear irradiated) wasteland of THE DESERT (I cannot pinpoint the location, for my enemies read this blog and identifying this land of solace would only be inviting trouble), i have perfected a multitude of attacks, defenses, and pithy sayings (among other tricks which i currently have stored "under my belt").
The majority of my attacks consist of sneaking up on the victim and shouting "POW! motherfucker, POW!" and then running away like a little girl. I've also been perfecting my SHADOW ATTACK. It sounds like a finishing move from Mortal Kombat, i know, but really all i do is start punching and kicking the air furiously until i've tired myself out. Gking and Chow have seen this attack in action, and they can tell you it is truly impressive to behold.
My defenses have a few new pieces of armor, chief among them being Alcohol (and occasionally the peaceful waking sleep of NyQuil--my lord and savior!)
I also know how to run in high-altitude situations, through scathing sand-storms, and around crowds of drunken revelers every friday night in downtown Albuquerque. GASP! I've said too much! Here's a little story to keep you occupied and force you to forget my approximate location: I went to the bar. There were four cholo-looking dudes with a bad attitude and flannel. Fear the flannel! Flannel is the color of death! Apparently, this one guy thought i was, and I quote "fucking with his girl". I wasn't, rest assured; contact with other people is usually the last thing on my mind when i get my drink on (god, i can't believe i just said that).
I laughed, thinking this fellow was joking. He wasn't. And, understandably, he reacted angrily at my laughing. "I'll fucking kill you, mother fucker, bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt." My mental automatic auditory filter kicked in and buzzed out most of what Mr. Angry Flannel killer had to say. I could tell that he was probably going to hurt me, but i had downed enough beers and B52's that I really couldn't care less.
Lucky for me, the bouncer grabbed my new friend and asked him to leave, which he did after first saying "bzzzzzzzt" in varying tones and accompanying hand gestures. I suppose he was going to wait outside for me to leave (2 hours later, it takes me a while to sober up) but he likely forgot his RIGHTEOUS RAGE AND FLANNEL FURIOUSITY in favor of ANOTHER DRINK AT THE NEXT BAR.
I went home, and the next morning I reflected on how close i got to recieving a major ass kicking.
--HK_Newbie
