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Wanted.

August 19th, 2008

Axl

[Axl is seen headed toward the same alleyway where Pigeon was left a bloody mess after Triple S led the way. But instead of finding Pigeon, Axl only finds a note…]

“Home is where the heart is, they say…
My heart has left this place.
So have I.

Quoth the Pigeon… It sucks to be poor.”

Viruz

[Axl crumples up the message, and tosses it down upon the rest of the street litter. He turns to Viruz.]

Axl: The bum’s fled this place. But I know he’s still in the city… I can sense it. He’s still looking for pain… punishment… he still wants to prove a point.

Viruz: He wants to impress that crazy bitch, Jerri Li. Personally, I don’t know what he sees in her… I’d never date someone who make’s Angelina Jolie’s bedroom habits look tame by comparison…

Axl: The way I look at it… he doesn’t deserve her. A street urchin like him is just like the litter that floods this alleyway… Ordinary, everyday garbage. And when he meets the two of us, I’m going to make damn good and sure that we take out that piece of trash. He wants pain? He wants torture? Bro, there’s only so much torture the human body can handle… so much damage… so much carnage…

Axl: … Till it breaks.

Axl: And at the next show? I WILL break the Bird. I will destroy him… I will hurt him so bad… WE will… to the point where he loses the ability to walk… to the point where his beloved Jerri will find him useless… Just as he was to the Hierarchy.

Viruz: Jeez, bro. When you get pissed at someone, you really hold a grudge…

Axl: Bro… You know I love you. You know I respect you. But never… EVER… question my judgement. Are we clear?

Viruz: … Sure?

Axl: Good. Now, get on the website, and post a bulletin. I want everyone in the City to know that if they come in contact with Pigeon, that I want them to treat him with the same level of mercy that their King would.

Axl: None.

> > > Hierarchy’s MySpace Page … Bulletin for August 18th < < < "Attention citizens. Be on the lookout for a disheveled street walker, with long hair, wearing a black kilt. Goes by the moniker "Pigeon". Wanted for crimes against the Hierarchy. If found, do not capture. Do not kill. Instead, use any force you may to leave this individual on the verge of serious injury. But leave him in good enough condition to compete in his final match in BoB... against the King and his Trusted Advisor at the upcoming BoB On-Demand event. All citizens who participate in the bruising of this begger will be rewarded handsomely for their services. That is all. - Vi" > > > hours later < < < ? ? ? : Hmmm... [A hand is seen grabbing a "Wanted" poster from off a Sinister City store wall... The hand leads to a body... that of Sinister City's most famous car salesman, as well as most hated bigot, Big Uncle Sam Alabaster.] [U.S.A. stares at the poster, with the words reprinted from Viruz' message on the Hierarchy MySpace...] U.S.A. : Hm. Well, well, well. I do declare... seems as if I've got another customer, even if I do say so myself, heheheh... U.S.A. : Oh you nasty little bird you... you're about to find yourself on the wrong end of the Big Unc's front tahrs, and when I'm done with ya? You're gonna be beaten down worse than those damn Iraqians at the hands of this good nation's finest men and women! But mostly men. U.S.A. : Praise America... Praise U.S.A.!!! [The big man drops the poster to the ground... as the camera fades out on Pigeon's face... the face of a man headed for a long, long few weeks...] |the|

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  1. August 19th, 2008 at 16:41 | #1

    [Pigeon walks through the streets of Sinister City… While a normal man with a warrant on his head would be hiding, or atleast cloaked beneath a disguise… Pigeon is no normal man.]

    [He is a man who welcomes pain… with open arms.]

    U.S.A. : Come one, come all! Hurr-ay, hurr-ay, hurr-ay! Bah gawd, we’ve got the greatest vee-hickles at the low, low, LOWEST prices ’round these here parts! Step right up and make a down payment today!

    [Pigeon stops in his tracks, and looks at the man… a plump guy, in a gray suit, black tie, brown loafers… a white head of hair and goatee that would make Colonel Sanders proud… a pair of square-rimmed glasses, and a gray cowboy hat placed upon his head. The man, known to some as the best car salesman in the City, to others as the biggest, loudest, most obnoxious racist in the Kingdom. Which may explain why all of his vehicles are the but one color : white.]

    U.S.A. : Ah, hey there, muh boy! Say, you wouldn’t happen tah be in the market for a fine, jim dandy of a ride, would’jah?

    Pigeon: NO.

    U.S.A. : …

    Pigeon: Sorry about that. I have a habit of screaming unnecessarily. What I meant to say is, I’m a Bird. I let my wings handle the transportation.

    U.S.A. : Yes, yes, of course, but you’re in luck! Why tire your own wings, when you can let muh new and improved ‘Winged Model DMX’ do the flying for ya! It’s a steal at only $50,000,000!

    Pigeon: … Are you talking about that white pick-up with the hang-glider duct-taped on top of the truck bed? Because if you are… I’ll pass.

    U.S.A. : Oh… I see. … Well, then, muh boy! Atleast come inside, kick yer shoes off, and grab a plate of my finest bird seed! Enriched with electrolytes!

    Pigeon: What the hell are “electrolytes”?

    U.S.A. : Beats the tar outta me, but Gatorade uses ’em to hawk their swill, so I’m sure it’s good stuff! Come on inside!

    Pigeon: Well… I really can’t pass up bird seed… You got any statues?

    U.S.A. : Uhm, sure… why do you ask?

    Pigeon: Oh, nothing really, just that I’ve got a dump that could choke an elephant…

    U.S.A. : …

    > > > minutes later < < < [Uncle Sam Alabaster and his "visitor", Pigeon, are sitting at Big Unc's business table, laughing over plates of bird seed... well, Pigeon's is all but finished, while U.S.A. hasn't touched his. I can't imagine why...] U.S.A. : So I say to the gentlemen, that's not a jew! He doesn't SMELL like a jew to me! Bwahahahaha! Pigeon: Hahahaha! ... Wait... I don't get it. ... Hey, I am a jew! I think... U.S.A. : Ah, good times... Well, I see you're almost finished with yer vittles. Pigeon: Yeah. And I see you haven't started on yours? How come? U.S.A. : Oh... well, I'm just not in the mood for... bird seed... right now. Pigeon: May I? U.S.A. : Knock yerself out, fella. [Big Unc hands over the plate... which Pigeon promptly scarfs down without any hesitation. He then finishes his own plate, and lets out a belch.] U.S.A. : I see you've enjoyed your meal? Pigeon: Indeed I have. Thanks for having me, but I really think I should be heading off now... I've still got to find someone. U.S.A. : Hm... Hold that thought. [U.S.A. stands from his chair, before lifting the chair up... heading over to the door... and lodging the back of the chair underneath the doorknob, barring the door from being opened...] Pigeon: ... Warrant? U.S.A. : Warrant. Pigeon: Damn... and I was really starting to like you, ya big, prejudice, lug you... Aw well. [Pigeon darts out of his chair, instantly going for a flying clothesline to U.S.A.'s skull... Which the tubby man evades by a hair. Pigeon lands on the floor, rolling a bit... before he spots a tire out of the corner of his eye.] U.S.A.: Ya know, I was startin' tah like you to... too bad I'm gonna have to beat the jew outta ya! * * BoB does not condone the racial or religous slurs used by U.S.A. U.S.A. : France sucks! * Except for that one. Cuz let's face it. France sucks. [U.S.A. heads toward Pigeon, hands reaching out, ready to grasp ahold of Pigeon's throat... when from out of nowhere, Pigeon flings a tire across the room, which lands right over U.S.A.'s head, slipping down until it wraps itself around his arms and waist, barring his arms from movement just as he'd barred the door from opening with the chair...] U.S.A. : I declare! You foul little creature you! I will not stand for this, do you hear me! I demand you release me right this instant! Pigeon: Sure, whatever you say, 'Colonel'! U.S.A. : !!! [Pigeon heads over to the Big Unc, and pulls the tire off from around his arms... before jabbing him in his oversized gut with the wheel, tossing it aside afterward. Pigeon then grabs a plaque off of the Big Unc's wall... an award for "Sinister City's Greatest Car Dealer". Of course, seeing as U.S.A.'s dealership is the ONLY dealership, the award pretty much covers every year since Sinister City's founding, and on into... oblivion, pretty much. Pigeon cracks the plaque over the Big Unc's back, removing him from his feet. Not... literally, but you get the idea. Pigeon then climbs on top of the Big Unc's business desk, before leaping from his perch, looking for an elbow drop... which misses.] Pigeon: SUNNUVA - U.S.A. : It's gonna take more than a darn plaque, muh boy, tah take this big boy down! Prepare those wings... yer ass is 'bout tah fly South! [The Big Unc grips Pigeon's hair, and drags him off the floor... before - ] *CRASH!* [ - tossing him through the door, sending shattered glass flying every direction. Pigeon rolls across the pavement, before coughing up a wad of blood from the brutal attack.] U.S.A. : Yall come back now... ya hear! Heheh, now THAT was a good one, even if I do say so muh'self, heheh... [U.S.A. turns around and is about to head back into the shop, through the huge hole in his glass door... when suddenly, he hears Pigeon calling out...] Pigeon: Is... IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!! You FAT BASTARD! U.S.A. : ... [slowly turns around, staring at Pigeon with eyes of hate] What did you just say? Pigeon: You heard me. You fat... racist... redneck... BASTARD. U.S.A. : Oh you just landed yerself in a whole mess ah trouble, young man. And what a pity... I don't think poor ol' Axl's gonna have anything left. What a shame. [U.S.A. heads toward Pigeon... slowly... but as he does, Pigeon continues to run his mouth.] Pigeon: What's the matter? Did you forget something? Like, oh, I dunno, your KKK membership card?! U.S.A. : HEY! I'll have you know... the KKK does not use membership cards! We only use nametags! ... I mean... THEY... use nametags. I wouldn't happen tah know since... uh... I'm not in... the... uh... Pigeon: Oh, save your breath. I know what you're really coming back for. More donuts! More bearclaws! More Freedom Fries!!! Fatty! U.S.A. : I'M NOT FAT! I'm big-boned! Now prepare for a duel, ya city-slickin' son-of-a-BITCH!!! [The Big Unc runs toward Pigeon, and clobbers the Bird of Prey instantly with a clothesline. Pigeon falls backward, slamming into the front of a white VW Beetle. The Beetle's lights begin to blink, and the horn blares, while the stereo begins to play "Pretty Fly For a White Guy".] Pigeon: Oh dear lord no... I can take the bodily pain, but this is much, MUCH worse... U.S.A. : Hey, I do say I like this h'yah... I'm a White Guy, and I'm Pretty Fly, so I can relate. Plus, it's got a snappy beat... Give it to me baby, uh-huh, uh-huh! Pigeon: Oh GOD... please, beat me about the ears... damage my eardrums... anything so I don't have to listen to this crap rock shit... [The Big Unc pulls Pigeon to his feet, tosses him on top of the white VW... before heading up on the hood himself. He loads Pigeon up for a powerbomb off the hood and to the pavement...] *WAMMO!* [ ... but somehow, someway, Pigeon manages to backbody drop the huge tub ah crap up, over, and to the ground of the car lot with a sickening thud. Which somehow sounds like *WAMMO!*... I don't even know what *WAMMO!* sounds like... apparently it's the sound a sickening thud makes. Huh, you learn something new everyday...] U.S.A. : MY BACK!!! [Yeah, yeah, your back. I'm still trying to figure out this *WAMMO!* thing...] U.S.A. : I may have just broken muh spine... good heavens, I do hope I don't need a doctor... [Meh, seeing a doctor couldn't be THAT bad...] U.S.A. : You've never been to the doctor here in Sinister City... have ya, muh boy. [No?] U.S.A. : Trust me... you don't wanna. [Good thing I don't have a body...] [Pigeon heads down from the car hood and picks up the Big Unc, before rolling him back onto the hood of the white VW Beetle. Pigeon pulls Unc to his feet... and as the Big Unc stands, wearily, dazed and confused, Pigeon extends his arms to his sides in a cross... before kicking U.S.A. in the gut, and dropping him with a huge Pigeon Drop... sending his head crashing right through the glass windshield. Pigeon lays side by side to the car salesman, with his wind knocked out...] Pigeon: Quoth the Pigeon... *pant, pant* ... No sale. > > > an hour later < < < [We re-open to Sinister City Regional Hospital. Uncle Sam Alabaster is being rushed to the examining room, with his head busted open, along with other various injuries...] [When he arrives in the examining room, the masked doctor looks at his patient. And when I say masked, I don't mean a medical mask... I mean a LUCHA mask. Things in this city just get curiouser and curiouser...] [The doctor is about to speak, when Uncle Sam Alabaster interupts.] U.S.A. : Doc! I've got somethin' I need tah tell ya. Doc: Ci? U.S.A. : YES, ya damned Mexi-can! Dammit, I hate that yer the only doctor in this god awful city... but, unfortunately, this is the only city with citizens dumb enough tah buy muh crappy cars. Doc: Ci. U.S.A. : Anyway, there's this guy... Doc: Ci? U.S.A. : With ragged hair... Doc: Ci? U.S.A. : And a black kilt. Doc: Ci. U.S.A. : And he goes by the name of "Pigeon". Doc: Ci, mui loco birdo, from el BoB'oh! U.S.A. : Uh... yeah. Doc: Ci. U.S.A. : ... Anyway... if'n ya sees him, rip his damn wings off with yer scalpels and whatnot. That son-of-a-bitch gave me a damn near concussion! He's gotta be brought to justice! AMURICAN justice, not that silly Mexi-Can, crappy, slap on the wrist justice. Doc: Senor, I tell you sum'ting! Pigeon birdo, he come in here essa? Doc Taco? He show heem sum'ting or two, joo know! Viva la Floss-ah! U.S.A. : That's Dentist Guerrero's motto, over in Not-So-Sinister City! That's copyright infringement, even if I do say so muh'self! Doc: Shut up, chico. And say ah. U.S.A. : But... yer not lookin' in muh mouth... You are NOT lookin' in... [Doc Taco grabs his drill... a standard, power tools drill, NOT a surgical drill... and lowers it to U.S.A.'s mouth... with an evil glint showing through his lucha mask.] U.S.A. : Oh shit... AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! – coo –

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