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05-19-2011, 05:55 PM | #4231 |
Hisstank.Com General
Join Date: Mar 2011
Location: USA
Posts: 16,671
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I just netflixed a superman cartoon movie with that plot in it...
Good movie...
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05-19-2011, 06:19 PM | #4232 |
Lead by Example
Join Date: Oct 2009
Location: Los Angeles/Orange County
Posts: 2,930
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GeneralxRon Buy/Sell/Trade: http://www.hisstank.com/forum/g-i-jo...ron-b-s-t.html My Feedback: http://www.hisstank.com/forum/buy-se...-feedback.html |
05-19-2011, 07:34 PM | #4233 |
Banned
Join Date: Aug 2009
Location: In a van, down by the river
Posts: 0
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Darkseid83 |
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05-19-2011, 07:39 PM | #4234 |
Hisstank.Com General
Join Date: Mar 2011
Location: USA
Posts: 16,671
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She's safe if she ever falls overboard!
I don't remember the name, but it was basically Supergirl's story... Had Batman in it, she lived with wonder woman's girls for awhile...
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05-19-2011, 09:45 PM | #4235 |
Im Charming
Join Date: May 2008
Location: The Mitten
Posts: 42,053
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my penis exploded
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05-20-2011, 02:34 AM | #4236 |
Banned
Join Date: May 2009
Location: gods waiting room
Posts: 2,356
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05-20-2011, 02:36 AM | #4237 |
Banned
Join Date: May 2009
Location: gods waiting room
Posts: 2,356
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using my new pc to expose my self is fun
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05-20-2011, 07:51 AM | #4238 |
Im Charming
Join Date: May 2008
Location: The Mitten
Posts: 42,053
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*yawn*
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05-20-2011, 08:09 AM | #4239 |
The Ruiner.
Join Date: Dec 2009
Location: Akron, OH
Posts: 6,606
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__________________
My feedback thread:
http://www.hisstank.com/forum/buy-se...-feedback.html Swamirama! A BST list: http://www.hisstank.com/forum/g-i-jo...ml#post4177881 Quote:
Originally Posted by Tom-1
I hope you get eaten by a bear or something.
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05-20-2011, 08:51 AM | #4240 |
The Ruiner.
Join Date: Dec 2009
Location: Akron, OH
Posts: 6,606
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"Osok's Tale."
Days in the Mitten come in one of two flavors: lukewarm and wet or rainy and miserable. As the midmorning sun slowly crawled its way across the room, the figure in the bed stirred to life. A vibration on the nightstand pulled him into alertness. OSOK flipped the cell phone open and read the message: "Shipment today. Good luck." He snorted a laugh to himself, "Ha. Luck." ROSS was always out of reach for him. Too far away or too late. OSOK always just missed it. But today was going to be different. The Pontiac was all gassed up and ready, the guns packed. The drive was a blur. Miles of barren Mitten wastelands into the greener pastures of Ohio before finally stopping in the rubble of what used to be the great state of Pennsylvania. After the PSN went down, no state was hit harder than Pennsylvania. The redneck Steelers fans there, with their giant trucks and “yinz,” went crazy. They demolished whatever signs of class the state had, killing any goodwill they rest of the country held towards them. But amongst the chaos, ROSS survived. And now OSOK stood in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette, starring at the blue neon sign, blazing brightly in the night. “Hrm,” he grunted, “It doesn’t look like much.” The doors slid open silently as he approached them. The sound of Muzak filled his ears and the scent of old lady-baby powder perfume penetrated his nostrils. To block it out, he pulled his mask up, over his nose. The mask, like a switch, turned something on inside of him. The pistol leapt from its holster into his hand and the speakers blaring Muzak were silent. Without a murmur of annoyance, the old ladies emptied the store, leaving OSOK alone with the employees. One of them reached slowly for the phone by their register. OSOK nodded his permission. Through the crackle of broken speakers, the message rang out, “Manager to the front please. Manager to the front.” And then, as an afterthought, “It’s him.” Now, having outlived her usefulness, OSOK buried a bullet in her brain. The other counter jockeys leapt to life, hopping their registers, grabbing discount gardening tools as weapons. But they were too slow. And OSOK was too fast, too well trained. His entire life had been leading to this. In one silent, smooth motion he dropped them with a single bullet each. His clip hit the floor as a new one was slammed into place. Behind him a slow, mocking slow clap began. “Well done, OSOK. A nice show, at the least. Too bad it won’t do you any good.” The Manager: a tattooed, mohawked middle manager and, currently, the only thing standing between OSOK and his prize. “The exclusives,” OSOK grunted, “Give them to me. Now.” The Manager laughed, “Never.” Before he knew what he was doing, OSOK was firing. But the Manager was expecting it. He dove behind a display case of cheap, ugly jewellery. When he stood up, OSOK was in the middle of reloading, and the Manager was packing a double barrel twelve gauge. OSOK fumbled the clip, knocking it sliding toward the Manager. Another laugh, filled with derision echoed across the room. “Run, my little penguin. Run for your life.” The first shot rang out and a splattering of pellets hit the ground where OSOK had been standing. Running through the aisles, ducking behind displays, OSOK reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out his ace in the hole: his trusty grenade launcher. Another shot rang out, and OSOK was pelted with buck shot. With a scream of rage, he stood up, launcher aimed. But the Manager was quick and kicked it out of his hands. OSOK leapt at him, tackling him to the ground. “The exclusives!” OSOK shouted as he pummelled the Manager with his fists. Even while receiving the beating of his life, the Manager laughed. A discount lamp nearby became a weapon and the Manager crashed it onto OSOK’s head, knocking him aside. “You’re so stupid, OSOK. You don’t get it, do you?” “Get what?!” “This. This whole thing. You have no idea how far it goes, do you?” OSOK stood straight up, “The president?” “What? No. God, no. Do you even know who the president is?” “…no.” “Idiot. Jesus. No. Higher.” The hairs on OSOK’s neck stood straight up, “No.” The Manager laughed and pulled a small, snub nose from behind his back, “Yes.” OSOK leapt at him, but too late. The Manager put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. A spray of brain matter and blood covered OSOK’s face. Then he heard it, the swinging sound of the stockroom doors. He grabbed his launcher and ran through the doors, combing the shelves, looking for his prize. The last shelf was empty, a small, handwritten sign that said “EXCLUSIVES,” hanging limply from a piece of scotch tape. OSOK grabbed it, crumpled it up and threw it to the floor. An engine started and OSOK turned around. The truck’s brake lights flashed briefly before the driver put the truck in gear, the rear door still swinging open. Desperate, OSOK ran after it. His boots hit the pavement with a series of loud thuds and an evil laugh emanated from the back of the truck. “Better luck next time, OSOK!” He fell to his knees, screaming. “LITHGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!"
__________________
My feedback thread:
http://www.hisstank.com/forum/buy-se...-feedback.html Swamirama! A BST list: http://www.hisstank.com/forum/g-i-jo...ml#post4177881 Quote:
Originally Posted by Tom-1
I hope you get eaten by a bear or something.
Last edited by xSwamiJayx; 05-20-2011 at 08:53 AM.. |
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