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Choose the Beretta
"I'll take the Beretta."
The man hands you the Beretta and after giving him the money for it you head to your first stop: A bank! After all, you're going to need a lot of funds if you're going to keep up this killing spree lifestyle of yours. So, you walk right up to the first teller you see and demand money.
"Do you," He says slowly, "Have a," He continues to ask slowly, "Account here?"
You shoot him right below his collar bone and an inch to the left of his sternum. He falls to the floor, bleeding. You demand, "What's it take to get some service around here?"
"He's got a GUN!" a security guard screams, jumping to the floor.
"You idiots, we've all got guns!" Another cop pulls out his glock, drops down on one knee, and squeezes a few shots right into your chest. Your eyes bulge. It's pain like no pain you ever felt before. You die.
Several weeks later you decide that lying in your coffin slowly decomposing is boring. So you claw your way back to the surface and consider eating a few brains.