Round Two | ||
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Summary: Guess who started sending me messages on MySpace again? That's right! Just like last time the mischievous mastermind behind Sam and Max's official page have started pestering my neglected profile page for Johnny C. Since we opted to count the last one as a log, here's the newest! (it's short, so I didn't bother hiding it behind a cut) If it DOES get longer (i.e. they start posting again, I'll come back and update this.) |
Sam: It's been some time since we've last spoken, Johnny. How have you been? Still brutally dispatching the undeserving? Max: If so, we've got some brand new firearms we're itching to try out on a maniac scum like you! Oh, I see how it is. I try to disconnect myself, hide from the world, and the Freelance Police show up again. What is it this time? Was it the mattress tag I cut off my bed, or did someone find that mass grave I star-uhhh... I mean, did someone find that lawn gnome I reported stolen?! ...tell me it's the lawn gnome. Max: Geeze, jumpy little bugger, aren't you? Sam: It's just been a while since we've been around and we wanted to make sure you're really on the straight and narrow these days. Max: Tough break about the lawn gnome, though. I'm starting a collection of them myself! *eyes Max suspiciously* Yes... well... Let's just say I might not have the most flawless background, but I'd like to think I've changed. I'd never dream of hurting someone who didn't deserve it. That's a good thing, right? Criminals, jaywalkers, lawn gnome thieves... You have to have standards, right? Max: Damn straight! All right, Sam, he's clean. You can trust a fellow gnome aficionado. Exactly! See! Nothing to see here! Now if you'll excuse me, I have some blood to clean up before the stains set in... I-I mean, I have to make lunch. Yes. Monday is burrito day, which has nothing to do with my previous statement. Eh-heh... blood and burritos. That would just be a silly combination, wouldn't it? *ponders* |