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21270731 No.21270731 [Reply] [Original]

The Return of Jim and Arthur, Book the First.
ACT 1. Dashing.

When the lobsterbacks entered the building they had not at all banked on the resistance by which they were met. Their training had been sub-par; many were unmanly sorts and were relying, broadly speaking, upon the powers of terror by which a kowing citizenry was jointly trained to respond to their presence and loud voices, to immediately follow instruction to surrender and whilst grinning like apes they would manhandle as thy saw fit until further instruction had been received.

However on this occasion no sooner had they barged through the revolving doors than their first company, oft' named in quainter times The Forlorn Hope, crashed through the flooring and onto a pit of sharpened metal and lead piping in the chambers beneath. Howls of agony and the sound of bone scraping against blunted piping rang in ghast symphonies up through what seemed then like the open pits of hell.

From the floorboards climbed soldiery, not citizens but soldiery. They bore down the collapsing column of lobsterbacks who, now met with hacking and stabbing, began to attempt a retreat out upon the open streets where their numbers would fare more in their favor. Had they received more than cursory training this maneuver may have spared them some losses, whereas in panic and disarray their attempts to withdraw and regroup offered nothing but to leave the backs of their legs and necks exposed to hammer and puncture, as sharpened piping maimed them from the knees down and other, cruder, weaponry inserted itself up and around the base of their skulls and the tips of their spines.

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>> No.21270733

Many pleaded for their lives, forgetting their station and uniform, as common dogs.

More were grabbed as they tried to flee, others still were dragged by the broken legs and disjointed mangled arms and pulled back into the slaughterhouse.


Jim and Arthur were in the thick of it, not a single co-worker killed or maimed moreso than did these brothers-in-arms. By the end of the battle Arthur had begun to eat from the flesh of the riot officers; bare to the waist and his chest painted in spilled blood taken by fingertip of veteran colleagues and marked with the signs of emergent memories. Jim, for his part, stalked clad in snatched armor around and about the mouth of hell, delivering shattering blows to those either trying to escape from the pit or those half dead and dying impaled on the jutting beams.

Their efforts had been a complete victory. The entire enemy had been destroyed and their transports sat empty in streets emptier yet. More had joined as the fray had continued; thunder had sounded joined by the crackling of small arms as the enemy had rallied to its reinforcements and attempted one last desperate counter-surge before being torn to pieces.

Now all the bodies, stripped of armament, were hauled by the ton into the mouth of hell and still cries and wails came from down there as bodies crushed bodies and awakened those who had slumbered due to wounds. Just like that the New Army had gained armor superiority and even the firearms would prove yet useful; electronic shock guns that could incapacitate a quarry, large bore shotguns that would fare as company-breakers, door-breakers and mortars. Most of all value were the shields; these rectangular things that could repel bullets long enough to stave an eye-socket were of the greatest value of all.

But no mere Spartacus did either Jim, Arthur or the New Army fancy themselves; rather 'they' were Publius Licinius Crassus and 'they' were hunting down the rebel slaves, these lobsterbacks of Cavendish; these poor levies guiled to abuse the rights of Man with reckless abandon, knowing full and well the brunt of reclamation that they would suffer with their naked soft flesh in misguided attempts to insulate Cavendish for but moments until the New Army bore down upon him at each quarter and twisted foot from ankle, forearm from elbow and then tore asunder to peck clean the horish trunk.


T'was no rebellion, t'was but swift march.

"March on," sang the countrymen locked in their homes, "deliver us, deliver us, deliver us," they sang.


END OF ACT 1. Dashing.

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>> No.21272272

IUAMES AND ARTURIUS WILL RETURN IN
The Return of Jim and Arthur, Book the First
ACT 1.
CUMBING SOUN

>> No.21272280

>IUAMES AND ARTURIUS WILL RETURN IN
>The Return of Jim and Arthur, Book the First
>ACT 1.*
>CUMBING SOUN
*ACT 2.

preview:
"My gosh!" exclaimed Arthur, "is that a dandelion?"

"Why yes!" replied James, who had been bending over to look at the flowers, his bottom exposed.

Arthur clapped his hands with glee, "oh t'riffic!" he warbled.

>> No.21273164
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21273164

>>21272280
>Arthur clapped his hands with glee, "oh t'riffic!" he warbled.