✌ ic contact;

[dies_at_the_end]

☎ voicemail ☎ text message ☞ action ☣ whatevs

Comments

[dies_at_the_end]

[John doesn't actually sympathy puke, but he holds the phone away from his head a while and shouts the next bit.]

Do you need me to come find you?

[because, okay, he won't lift a finger for most people but if Dave's in serious trouble, that's different.]

[bratwurstcalling]

[Don't mind the coughing. The puke tasted like shitty beer and gunpowder.]

Don't come down here--- he'll shoot you too.

[dies_at_the_end]

Someone shot you? What the fuck is going on, why are you out getting shot?

[Dont go have all the fun without him you douchebag.]

Sounds like some asses need kicking. On my fuckin' way.

[bratwurstcalling]

Bad. Idea.

[dies_at_the_end]

Like that ever stops me.

[bratwurstcalling]

On second thought, John, this is the best idea you've ever had.

[dies_at_the_end]

Nah, I'd probably go with that concert opening. Or the bomb thing. But it's up there.

[HE'S COMING. Get used to it, Dave.]

Try not to die again before I get there, ok?

[bratwurstcalling]

When you get shot just remember I told you so.

[dies_at_the_end]

As long as you don't shoot me.

[bratwurstcalling]

I'm over that phase.

[dies_at_the_end]

That's one thing we got going for us.

[bratwurstcalling]

Yeah.... I'll be by the thing that looks like an escape pod.

[dies_at_the_end]

[If he could show up on a motorcycle, or with a flamethrower, or at least an uzi, this would be so much better. Instead he's got a small-ish piece of wood he found along the way in hand, and he's walking.

Lame ass.]

Dave? Don't worry, the other eight guys with the shotguns'll be here in a couple minutes.

[In case, you know, the shooter's still around. It's the kind of clever ploy he's known for.]

[bratwurstcalling]

[Dave looks chewed up and spit back out. He's sweating, bags under his eyes, his skin pale and almost yellow in color. And he's shaking, just slightly, after having been shot, every atom of his body separated and reorganized and placed back together from a spot on the ground not too far from where he was standing now into the weird pod-thing he was sitting next to. He looked like he was going to throw up again, he didn't even want to move.

His shoe was off... he'd already checked his feet. You know, in case something new popped up down there.]

We should go meet them by the turrets.

[Despite how shitty he looks, there's humor in his voice, and he shoves his feet back into his shoes. It's relief, if nothing else.]

[dies_at_the_end]

[Fast on the road to recovery. John's less disturbed than most people would be by encountering their newly dead and resurrected best friend, but all things considered this isn't all that weird. Weirder than crashing on the Sauce, less weird than burying Dave under the floor of the Mall of the Dead. Life is a spectrum.]

Yup, we'll get home lots faster if we take the tank. I had them turn off the acid sprayers til we get back.

[he stands, makeshift bludgeon at his side, waiting for Dave to stand. It looks like there probably isn't anyone to fight here. He's almost a little disappointed to be denied his righteous vengeance.]

[bratwurstcalling]

[Theres hesitation before he manages to get to his feet. Dave takes back any time he's ever thought 'I feel like I'm dying' because now that he's aware of what it's like... he knows it certainly wasn't true before.]

You remember where you placed the land mines, right?

[dies_at_the_end]

Yeah, we're good.

[They are good, right? At least Dave's stopped puking, that's something. He looks in way worse shape than John remembers being in after dying. But, then again, he wasn't shot. Lethally.]

So tell me about this guy who's ass I'm gonna kick.

[bratwurstcalling]

[There's a dull pulsing in his head that he tries to shake off before heading out of the fisheries with John, but headaches are dicks and never leave when you ask politely.

Dave rubs his head.]

Uhh... his name was Sebastian something. Can't forget a first name like that--- let's see... Probably in his 30's, had a beard, and an accent. English or something. He was talking to me about trying to find a way out of this place and then just, out of nowhere he pulls out a gun.

[dies_at_the_end]

What the fuck, who does that?

[John would give you an aspirin or something but, you know, he's not really big on drugs.]

Did you say something to piss him off?

[bratwurstcalling]

Uhhhhhhhhhhhh

[Yes]

No, man, we were just chatting.

[dies_at_the_end]

[You are so full of shit, Dave. This is John's patented you are so full of shit, Dave look.

Get used to it.

He's waiting.]

[bratwurstcalling]

Dude. Really. I have no idea. He was asking me what I thought about getting out of here. He bought me a beer. I should have known at the beer, I think. Guys don't just buy other random guys beer unless they're--

[Wait.]

He couldn't have had time to.

[No. Stop thinking about it. There is no way he defiled your corpse, Dave.]

[dies_at_the_end]

[ ... ]

[ ... ]

[ ... ]

Oh my God!

[bratwurstcalling]

[!!!!!!!!]

HE DIDN'T HAVE TIME---

JOHN. HE DIDN'T...

[dies_at_the_end]

[Your maidenly virtue, Dave!]

WE ARE TOTALLY GONNA BEAT THIS GUY'S FACE IN, DAVE, THAT IS NOT. OKAY.