Dinner With The Wilson Brothers (Ongoing Story)

[Kevin]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jE_CHIuR2M" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jE_CHIuR2M</a>

1997

Mobile, Alabama, in the American south.

(Another) Close call.

Beans eased back into the seat, staring at the snowy TV. The sound of static filled the room, but behind the snowy picture, Beans made out two anonymous football teams clashing. He shut his eyes, taking in the sounds of the apartment. Meaty was at the floor at Beans' feet, jamming two two trucks together, making clashing noises. Beef was in the kitchen, whistling, and presumably reading. Denise was breathing steadily in the next room of the small apartment, sleeping.

A few knocks shook the door and Beans opened his eyes, "Gettin' it, Beans?"

Beans shook his head, clearing his throat before he spoke, "You can git it."

Beef set down the novel, sipping from a glass bottle of Coca Cola before stomping to the door. He looked through the peephole, turning his head and speaking softly towards the living room, "Beans... 's the law..."

Beans quickly stood up, slowing his breathing as he stumbled to his knees at the coffee table, he scooped the crack into his pocket, moving briskly to the kitchen area. He reached into one of the cabinets, pulling out a pink bottle of Pepto Bismol. He quickly spun the top off, and he heard Beef pulling the door open. Beans pulled his view back to the bottle of pink liquid, and poured the rocks into the bottle, shaking it a bit and tossing back in the medicine cabinet.

Beef spoke neutrally, nodding at the officer's words. "I understand the concern, sir."

The cop spoke gruffly, his bristly mustache moving with his lip, "Well if ya'll see anybody fittin' the descriptions, call nine-one-one, please."

Beef nodded passionately, "Yeah... awful thing that happened, ain't it?"

The officer nodded, frowning, "Yeah. Shootin's are at an all time high, I-..."

He stopped short, peering over Beef's shoulder. He nodded towards the coffee table, "What's that, now?"

Beef turned his head over his shoulder, Beans' 1911 was resting on the table. He turned back to face the officer, who began speaking, "That ain't properly locked up, now. It belon's in a safe. You got clearance for that weapon, anyways?"

Beef nodded quickly, "Oh yeah, ain't no unregistered weapons in this house, suh, I can assure you that."

The officer narrowed his eyes, the pistol sat serial number up. "It looks awfully scratched up in that one place... can you come out here, sir, while I look at it?"

Beans hugged himself behind the counter, listening to the event. "You too, lil scamp, go with yer daddy."

Meaty grabbed his cars, looking up at the officer, "He's my brother, sir. My brother Beans is here too."

Beans gritted his teeth, slowly reaching his hand up towards the counter, pulling a dull kitchen knife off, holding it close to himself. The officer didn't bother to listen, which proved to be a fatal mistake. He bent over, looking at the pistol, moving it around with his index finger and thumb, turning it over. "This can't be legal, sir. No serial number."

He trudged towards Beef, who stood in the hallway of the run down apartment block. "Turn 'round."

Beans heard the clicking of the cuffs snapping around Beef's wrists. Beans crawled up, slipping his shoes off. He kept low, slowly maneuvering towards the hallway, where the police officer faced Beef. He pressed a button on his radio, speaking towards his shoulder slowly, "I'm here at North an' Yaffe Boulevard, I got-"

Beans lunged from the doorway, driving the knife towards the back of the officer's neck. He felt the blade move through the flesh, and skim the hard bone of his spine. As he reached the handle of the knife, he released, letting the knife stay inside the officer's neck, Beans held his mouth shut, stifling the cop's pained screams. A high pitched male voice kept repeating the same line over and over, "Sergeant Millis, repeat that last."

Beans tightened his grip over his mouth, and his screams slowly began to lower in volume. Beans released as the screams stopped, and the officer fell limply to the ground. Beans bent over, pulling the radio from his shoulder and pressing the button, "Disregard."

[Kevin]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVMSIESxe8w" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVMSIESxe8w</a>

1997

Mobile, Alabama, in the American South

A Wilson Family Vacation.

Flies brushed their legs together, congregating on the dry, cold forehead of Officer Samuel Peterson. His muddy brown eyes were glazed over with a white sheet of an unknown substance, giving him a fake look. Blood crusted the back of his shirt together, and the stab wound gaped open, but no longer let out blood. The body of Officer Peterson sat in the living room of the Wilson boys' apartment, and it had been sitting there for about 16 hours.

In the bed room, Beans slowly woke up, turning his head about dazedly. As with many other occasions, he woke up completely naked. On the floor broken bottles of beer sat in dried up sticky messes. Beans let his head drop to the other side, partly covered by the bed sheets, Denise laid asleep, naked as well. Beans grunted, rubbing his forehead. He sat himself up, and started for the kitchen, pulling on a pair of underwear.

On the couch Beef laid on his stomach, a bottle of whiskey loosely hanging from his fingers. Beans smacked the back of Beef's head. After about five seconds, Beef let out of long groan, and he dropped the bottle, the remainder of the whiskey in the bottle spilled on the already dirty apartment floor. Across the room, Meaty laid in a sleep bag, his head propped up on two old pillows, and the TV in front of him was silent, but Saturday morning cartoons were playing as he slept.

The blood encrusted knife sat idly on the scratched coffee table. Beans grabbed the knife from the table, staggering slowly to the kitchen sink, he turned the cold water on, and dropped the knife in the sink, yawning. He turned slowly, Beef was pulling his Jeans on, Meaty was crawling towards the kitchen naked, despite being nine years old. Beans watched blandly as Meaty pulled open one of the cabinets, pulling a carton of Ovaltine out. He poured some of the brown chocolate powder into a coffee mug, and pulled the somewhat warm milk from the small refridgerator, filling the glass and stirring it with his finger.

Outside the shaded windows, police sirens blared in the distance. Beans peeked outside, and saw multiple police cars scanning the area, some also on foot. Beans turned, sighing. He cleared his throat before speaking, "Cops are creepin' about. We got to get the fuck out."

Beef pulled on a white T-shirt, "When you rented this place, did the guy ask your name? Or did you just pay him off and get the room?"

Beans scratched the back of his head, "He didn't ask anythin' other than fer money. Like I said, I know this guy don't ask names which is why I rented this shit hole out."

Beef nodded, "Erm... well..." He nodded down at the stiff body on the floor.

Beans nodded, stomping tiredly to his room, and pulled on a wife beater and a thin tan jacket. He went to his dresser, and pulled open the top drawer, pulling his Colt .45 from among the balled up sock. He hit the magazine release button, checking the magazine, which was full. He then went to the closet, shoving aside cardboard boxes, and pulling down a backpack full of ammo, and a sawn off Remington 870, of course with the serial number filed off.

He set down the 'Scooby Doo' backpack at Meaty's feet, as well as the day's clothes. "Get ready."

Beans went back into the room. Denise was sitting up, yawning whilst stretching her arms towards the ceiling. Beans sat on the bed, and Denise pulled herself near him as he spoke, "Well we gotta go... that cop an' stuff... Y'know."

Denise frowned, nodding after a few moments, "Yeah... well uh... keep in touch I guess..."

Beans pulled on some work boots, and turned his head. Denise crawled closer, kissing him on the cheek before he stood. "Well I'll call you when we get somewhere safer... you'd better leave soon, too.. police will come in here lookin'."

Meaty and Beef were standing near the door, ready to go. Meaty had the backpack full of firearms and ammunition in his backpack. As they walked outside, Beef smiled down at Meaty, tussling his hair a bit, "Ready fer school, champ?"

Meaty knew the deal, he was to play along so the police didn't question them. "I hate school, Miss Ethans is a BITCH!"

Beef frowned as they proceeded by the cops, who watched, snickering at Meaty's response. Beef sighed, "You know how me an' Charlie feel about that language, boy."

Meaty stuck out his tongue, as they reached the truck. Meaty sat on a bucket between Beans and Beef, and the engine puttered to life as Beans turned the keys. Beef gently patted Meaty on the back, "Nice job Meatcake."

Meaty smiled his toothy grin, some gaps existed where he had lost teeth. The Wilson boys proceeded towards the freeway, but before they were about to get on, Beans slammed on the breaks, screaming in anger. "I forgot the fuckin' crack in the Pepto Bismol bottle!"

A car slammed into the back of the truck, and the boys all hit the dashboard, making various sounds of pain. Meaty was cursing between sobs. Beans pushed open his door angrily, pulling the Scooby Doo backpack onto his lap, he grabbed the deceased police officer's S&W .38 special, hopping from the car. The other driver, who happened to be a rather large man with rolls of fat surrounding most of body was approaching Beans too, a tire iron in hand.

Beans quickly raised the revolver, stopping, yelling at the top of lungs, "Fuck!" He squeezed the trigger, the shot missed the large man, and struck his two door Ford's headlight, causing the man to drop the tire iron, and turn around, hobbling to safety behind his car.

Beans turned, jogging back towards his truck. As he got in, the police radio which Beans and Beef grabbed from the dead officer was blaring messages of all sorts, to be interrupted by, "Officer Melvin here at North and Yaffe, we got the missing officer and narcotics as well as a bloodied knife."

Beans slammed on the horn, screaming in anger. He kept his foot on the gas, going full speed towards a sign that read, 'Freeway, next right."

[Kevin]

I realize the beginning of the music with the happy and sunshiney mood isn't very... World war two-ish, so if you want to get to the real music intended for this chapter, go to 0:15.

And yes, I realize the music is WAAAAY too short for the chapter, so get over it and restart it when it ends. Hope you like it.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLwgQ_0lzf4" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLwgQ_0lzf4</a>

1944

The Peleliu Hills, in the Japanese Empire.

Shit changes.

Heavy drops of rain pelted down upon the Peleliu islands. The sky was dark, and it was nearly impossible to see. Captain Wallace Wilson sat in the mud as it gathered around him. His Thompson sat in his lap, and he stared vigilantly down a hill into the darkness. Under his breath he was muttering to himself something unknown.

It had been about a week since the Marines had taken the airfield, but the Japanese still held Peleliu. Their objective was to clear the entire island. The island was hellish, intense heat during the day, cold and wet during the nights. Whatever water holes the Americans managed to find were usually poisoned by the Japanese with dead bodies of soldiers and animals. Very rarely would they find drinkable water, and even then it was foggy, sandy and muddy.

Michael laid back in the mud with a mortar team, Jordan, and Mueller. Michael looked up, speaking loudly to be heard over the hard rain, "Hey Cap... you should rest... let one of us take watch."

The Captain swung his head around, staring at Michael with his piercing ice blue eyes. "One of you will get us killed." And with that, he turned back around, continuing to stare down the hill.

Michael shivered from the cold, laying back in the mud, close to his fellow Marines. Phil Mueller was asleep, stirring around and whimpering. It was common for Marines to have nightmares about the horrors they witnessed. Very few Marines in Peleliu came away unscathed from battle. Whether it be physical or mental, mostly everyone was wounded from those battles. Jordan stared into the dark sky, twisting his necklace around in his fingers.

A high pitched whistling was heard overhead, Michael and Jordan sat up slowly, eyeing the sky above them. Jordan nudged Mueller with his elbow, "Get the fuck up, now..."

Michael crawled forward on his hands and knees, grabbing his M1 Garand. Jordan was yanking Mueller along, who looked around, confused. Michael slipped on the mud along with two other men of the Mortar team. Someone threw the mortar out of the hole, sliding out behind it. One of the men Michael was struggling with slipped back into the center of the hole. As the whistling grew louder, Michael tossed his rifle out, diving out behind it. Michael threw his arm into the hole for the other Marine, who grabbed it and began pulling himself out.

As the whistling stopped, an explosion blew within the hole, the marine Michael was helping began screaming in pain. Michael peeked in the hole, both of the Marine's legs were blown off by the explosion. The other Marines who was in the center of the hole was now splattered along each end of the natural barricade. Michael pulled the dying marine out easily, dropping him as he still screamed. Captain Wilson pushed Michael aside, raising his Thompson.

Jordan grabbed the Captain's shoulder, "Captain, Jesus Christ what the fuck are you thinking!"

Mueller followed Jordan's statement with, "You can't kill another fucking American, cap! It just ain't fucking right!"

The Captain shifted glances between them both, speaking after a few moments, "So you want him to suffer? He can die right here, right now, or wait five minutes and die painfully."

Michael bit his lip, "I-I think the Captain is right, guys..."

Jordan snapped his head towards Michael, "Seriously?"

"Well... he's sufferin'... he's like a diseased dog..." Michael said it whilst watching the Marine writhe around on the ground.

Mueller stepped forward, "So this fuckin' guy is just a dyin' dog to you? We all know he's gonna die but it ain't fucking right for US to kill him!"

The Captain shook his head, "Actually, it damn well is, Philly. If the nips get here while poor Stumpy here is still alive... instead of a bullet to the head, he'll get his dick and hands cut off before they jab a splintered peice a' wood in his neck."

Mueller stared at Michael still, "Well let's let Michael here kill him them."

The Captain shook his head, "You are but a fuckin' Private boy, Neill here is a First class as well as The Jew. You don't no say in this."

Captain Wilson turned his head towards Michael, holding out his Colt, "Unless you want to, Neill."

Michael quickly shook his head, "I-... I ain't about to kill anothah Marine..."

The Captain shrugged, raising his boot and sending all his weight with it, upon the Marine's neck. Mueller's eyes widened, and his began screaming over the rain, "What the fuck! You said you were gon' fuckin' shoot him!"

Captain Wilson slid his Colt back into it's holster, "Well I don't got a ton of ammo left, and it's the same thing. Quick and painless."

Jordan pointed accusingly at the Captain, "You SAID you were going to shoot him, though, you sick son of a bitch!"

Captain Wilson nodded, "Yeah, but shit changes."

Overhead, more mortars' whistling was heard. The Captain kicked the half of a body into the hole, beginning to walk further up a grassy and muddy hill, ignoring the whistling. His squad of three men followed behind, speaking to eachother, while the remainder of the mortar team stayed at the hole, burying their dead comrade.

As they reached the summit of the small mountain, The Captain turned 360 degrees, soaking in the sights. Down the opposite end of the hill, there was a small wooden shack, surrounded by plants and vegetation. There was no glass covering the window on that side of the shack, but a thin and somewhat dirty curtain covered it. It blew listlessly in the wind, revealing nothing but darkness within.

Wallace Wilson started down the hill, raising his Thompson as they got within about fifty feet of it. Michael, Jordan and Phil were about twenty feet behind the Captain, watching him advance. The Captain slowly began to crouch-walk towards the house to minimize noise.

Suddenly, As the Captain was edging nearer to the shack, the curtain lifted up over the barrel of a Japanese Type 96 machine gun. The Captain turned around, yelling just before it began firing, "Get the fuck down!"

The crackling of the machine gun fire was deafening over the rain, and the Captain fell on his chest presumably after being hit. Dirt was thrown up into the faces of the three standing Marines, and they each dove their seperate ways. Michael slid face down along a muddy slope and behind a grouping of trees. As the machine gun fire ceased, Michael climbed up a bit, looking at the house. Jordan nodded to Michael, holding up five fingers, mouthing "Five seconds."

Michael raised his Garand in the direction of of the wood shack. After a few moments, yelling over the rain was heard, "Fire!"

Muzzle flashes came from behind a rock across from Michael, and from within a grouping of tall grass where Jordan laid. The gunfire shredded the house, and wood splintered everywhere, leaving gaping holes in the shack. The three stood. Michael jogged towards the shack, taking aim as he entered the door.

Two Japanese soldiers laid in a pool of blood, the one who seemed to be manning the machine gun still had glasses with round lenses attached to his head. The left lens was cracked around a perfect hole and his eye was missing, it was obvious he got hit dead in the eye.

Michael jogged back out, Jordan and Mueller were hunched over the Captain, he wheezed quickly and cursed in pain. Jordan looked up to Michael as he pumped his hands on the wound, “He’s got a damn hole in his back the size of a golf ball…”

Michael fell to his knees, dropping his rifle and helping with the wound. It wasn’t raining now, and the sky was light purple and orange in hue. Captain Wallace Wilson clenched onto Michael’s ankle as he stood, his voice raspy and hard, “I-I.. ain’t… fuckin’…  dyin’… t-today…”

[Kevin]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIiUqfxFttM" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIiUqfxFttM</a>

1997

New Orleans, Louisiana, In the American South.

Smoke and Mirrors

Meaty's jaw contorted to the sides as he straightened up in the passenger seat of the truck. He turned his head to the left whilst yawning. Beans wasn't in the drivers seat, and he wasn't on Beef's lap. He rubbed his eyes, looking out of the windows of the truck. To the right was the crumbling wall of a buildings, colorful graffiti tags were sprawled over it. To the left was a narrow sewage canal, leading God knows where. Directly ahead was another tagged wall of a building, a door was held ajar by a brick.

Meaty pushed open his door, it creaked as he forced it open. He swung his legs out, pushing himself off the seat and landing with a thud on the muddy and wet ground. walked tiredly towards the ajar door, Frank Sinatra faintly played from the door, and a foggy smoke rose into the atmosphere as it sailed out the door.

Meaty stepped over the brick, sliding between the door and the wall into a musty red hallway. He wheezed a bit, covering his mouth and nose from the smoke. His feet led him through the hallway, doors on each side of the hallway, moans and springs grinding were heard inside many of the rooms. Meaty stopped short as he noticed one of the doors open, he took a few steps back, peeking inside the room.

A man in a white dress shirt and a black tie was laying on the bed. His pants were folded over the bed frame. A naked woman sprung up and down while she seemed to be sitting on the man. Meaty's eyes widened as he saw the woman's breasts, Meaty let out a loud gasp. The woman stopped pumping up and down, and spun her head around, "Oh my God!"

She threw her arms around herself, covering her chest. "Get the fuck out of here kid!"

Meaty giggled, running down the hallway. As he reached the end, he came into a large open room, with a stage on one side, where multiple partially and fully nude women paraded around. Meaty watched them for a few moments, looking around the room. It mostly consisted of dirty coffee tables and cheap white lawn chairs.

He started into the room, looking around. One of the men in a lawn chair was his hands down his pants. "Scuse me sir, what time is it?"

The man smiled, letting his head fall back, "Happy hour..."

Meaty nodded, skipping through the smokey room. Mirrors covered the whole back side of the stage and on some of the walls. In one of the mirrors, behind a curtain, something caught Meaty's eye. Beef and Beans were sitting in chairs next to eachother, they were bruised and bloody. Meaty smiled, edging towards the room.

As he got closer, a burly man with a mop of hair on his head grabbed Meaty's shoulder, "You know what time it is, kid? You ain't supposed to be here."

Meaty smiled, "It's happy hour. And I'm here with my brothers."

The main raised an eyebrow, "Sure... happy hour... what sick fuckin' brothers bring their kid brother to a club?"

"Beans n' Beef!" He said it quickly and cheerfully.

The man smirked, "Ain't that something. We have two guys in back, said their names were Beans an' Beef. Well come with me to the television room until they're finished."

Meaty nodded quickly, and was led into a less smokey room, a small black and white television sat on a white plastic table. On the one couch sat an unconscious homeless man in a combat jacket. The man shoved Meaty onto the couch, and flicked on the TV, sitting next to Meaty. "Your brothers are dumb."

Meaty shook his head, "No they ain't. Beef is REALLY smart, he can even read. Beans can do maths, he told me. They're real smart, sir."

"Well math and reading won't matter when they're dead."

Meaty licked his lips before speaking, "They can't die. I seen them get in battles an' stuff and they never been hit once. 'Cept one time when we was back home an' a gator damn near tore Beans' leg off."

The man stood, as he did, something thudded onto the couch next to Meaty. Meaty threw his denim jacket over it, leaning back in the couch. The man turned, pointing at Meaty, "Stay here. I'm going to take a leak."

Meaty nodded. As the man exited, he lifted the jacket off the unknown object, and sure enough, it was a gun. As the man stood, it must have fallen from his waistband. Meaty picked it up, it was a Beretta 92fs. It felt heavy in his hand, and he looked at all the switches and components. "Well wow-wee..."

He stood, putting it inside the inner pocket of his denim jacket. He hooked his thumbs into his pockets, walking out of the TV room back into the smoke and down a small staircase. In the mirror, he saw Beans and Beef still being beaten. They were on the ground, curled into balls. Meaty looked around the smokey room, all of the men were crowding around the stage, throwing money at two completely naked women.

Meaty unbuttoned the denim jacket, as the last button was undone, his jacket drooped down from the weight of the pistol. He pulled it from the pocket, shakily raising it. He was shaking not from fear (He was far too stupid to be afraid.) but because of the weight of the gun. He held the pistol at his eye level towards the curtain that blocked where Beef and Beans were being held.

He pulled the trigger. He couldn't pull it back, too much resistance. Beef grunted loudly, screaming as he saw Meaty in the mirror. "Flip the safety up!"

One of the men kicking Beef replied with, "What the fuck are you talking about you crazy bastard?"

Meaty looked at the slide of the pistol, a switch was flipped down. He held the pistol in his left hand, picking at the safety with his right thumb until it clicked up, revealing a small red dot, "Ready to go!"

He raised the pistol at eye level once more through the curtain. He pulled the trigger. The recoil hurt his wrist and the pistol snapped upwards. "Whoa..."

The bullet casing clinked on the floor, and he aimed again, shouting was heard behind the fluttering curtain. Meaty repeatedly pulled the trigger. He was in the zone, too focused to look away from the gun. After a few moments, the gunfire stopped, and the curtain was full of holes. The slide of the gun was held back, and Meaty dropped the gun, running towards the curtain. Of four men behind the curtain, two of them were rolling around on the ground, screaming.

Beans pushed himself to his knees, grabbing a Tec-9 from one of dead men's hands. He shot both of the surviving men a few times in the head, standing, his knees buckling. The curtain flew to the side, and the guard watching Meaty grabbed at the back of his pants, angrily looking at the three.

His expression changed from anger to regret after realizing he didn't have his gun, "Oh fuck..."

Beans raised the small submachinegun. He held the trigger, emptying the entire magazine into the guards chest, the man tripped over a lawn chair as rounds hit him, felling limply onto the already bloody floor.

Meaty rubbed the back of his neck, "Can we go now?"

[Kevin]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCD14IrOcIs" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCD14IrOcIs</a>
2015

Universal Union City Twenty Seven, Somewhere in Russia.

Rumor has it...

He pulled on his collar, bobbing his head with each step. He had a shaved head and a lanky figure, and his lower jaw hung apart from his upper jaw, revealing disgusting yellowish brown teeth. His C27 jumpsuit was loose fitting compared to his malnourished and slim form.

On his breast, the number sewn across the white name tag area was ripped out, leaving only a few loose threads hanging from their stitches. In faded black pen, and in messy handwriting, 'Meaty' was etched into the fabric. By now, Meaty was well into his twenties, nearly into his thirties.

His awful childhood of growing up with criminals and cannibals had shaped him as a man. In a normal society, he would be in prison for molestation, rape, murder, public intoxication, use of narcotics, assault, extortion, theft, and the list goes on.

As he trudged through the plaza, he noticed a man with a small posse of people, who seemed to be amazed at what he was saying. Meaty squeezed himself into the semi circle. The man at the center, was missing an ear, his eyes were nearly swollen shut, and his shirt was unbuttoned, to show off a small stab wound and dozens of bruises. "An' then... they... they fucking started screamin' and kickin' my fucking face..."

The people whispered to eachother, staring in awe at the survivor of a horrific assault. "Then the fuckin'-..."

The man breathed in heavily and shaky, shivering. Tears welled up in his eyes, "The skinny one hit me in the face with a-... a rock... an' bit my ear off.."

Meaty hung his head lazily, "Go on."

The man looked slowly to Meaty, "T-Then they... they took a strip a' metal from a ripped trash bag an'..." The man tapped the sloppy stab wound.

The victim raised his head a bit, staring into Meaty's eyes, he backed up slowly into the wall as Meaty did not cease to stare blankly at the man. "S-Stop starin'..."

Meaty didn't react whatsoever, inside his hollow head, he remembered as a child, his brothers telling him that eye contact is the greatest kind of threat. The man curled up into a ball, crying against the wall. Meaty had gotten his confirmation that the attackers were his brothers. Meaty wasn't educated or smart in nearly any way, but he knew how to use the process of elimination, and how to use his brothers' life tips to survive.

Meaty took a deep breath, "Where are these guys?"

The man sobbed against the wall, covering his face. One of the bystanders turned towards Meaty, "What the fuck does it matter to you, asshole? You just wrecked this guy."

Meaty smirked, "Damn fuckin' right I did. And I can wreck you just the same."

The man stepped forward, face to face with Meaty, he was taller than Meaty by about six inches. He had rusty brown eyes, and a brown mop of matted hair. His eyes were but slits, and though he was malnourished, he was still considered a big, tough kind of man for the current state of the world.

Meaty's smirk faded away, and he pulled his knee quickly upwards, mashing the man's groin. The crowd converged around the fight, and the stomping of Civil Protection units' boots stamped on the cobblestone street. As the man heaved out and began to curl over, Meaty clasped onto the man's jaw with both hands, forcing him head first towards the wall. His skull cracked against the wall, and Meaty released the man, who slumped over next to the other assault victim. Meaty reared his leg back, sending his foot into the man's face, his nose cracked to the right, and blood slipped out of his nostrils and a few small cuts on his cheek.

Meaty held his clenched fists by his side, and units finally forced their way into the center of the ring. Meaty's shoulders were grabbed by gloved hands, and he was thrown to the ground and tied with zipties. As he was lifted up, multiple voices arose from the crowd, some cried out, "He said City Eighteen in the story!" While others called Meaty names and homosexual slurs.

As he was tossed into a dark, cold cell, he rubbed the back of his head, trying to recall which numbers made up the number 18.

[Kevin]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3fkZeWsyvo" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3fkZeWsyvo</a>

1998

New Orleans, Louisiana, In the American South.

Boys will be boys

Meaty slowly blinked his eyes open, the alarm clock buzzed from within Beans' room. Beef emerged from the kitchen, fully dressed in jeans, work boots and a white t-shirt. "Time to get up Meatface."

Meaty groaned, flailing his arms about, "Noooo!"

Beef pointed a spoon accusingly at Meaty, "Naw you knew this day was comin', so stop throwin' a fit and come eat yer Cap'n Crunch."

Meaty mimicked Beef, kicking the blankets onto the floor. He sat up, on the coffee table next to the couch Meaty's clothes were in a neat pile. He slid them off the table onto the floor as he continued to the kitchen. Beef was drinking a mug of coffee, a lit cigarette's smoke listlessly sailed towards the ceiling. Every few moments, Beef would look away from the newspaper and take a drag on the cigarette.

Beans shoved his bedroom door open, he emerged half dressed in oil stained and ripped jeans. He scratched his head, patting down his messy hair, "Muh..."

"Mawnin' Beans." Beef and Meaty said in in unison.

"Mawnin'..." He replied tiredly.

Beef looked back down to his newspaper, quickly looking back up, "Oh, nearly forgot, Denise sent a letter." He nodded at the envelope on the kitchen counter.

Beans scratched his chin, "Did you read it?"

Beef shook his head, "I reckon it's for your eyes only."

Beans shook his head, "Whatever. I'll read it later, any more Cap'n Crunch left?"

Beef shook his head, "Gave it to Meatcake."

Beans stomped on the ground, groaning. "You two are faggots, I'll tell you what."

Beef smirked, looking back down to his newspaper. Because he couldn't resist the opportunity, Meaty chimed in, "I think yer the only faggot here, Beans."

"Blow it out yer ass, boy." As Beans entered the kitchen, he stuck a finger under Meaty's bowl of cereal and flipped it off the counter.

Meaty sprung off the chair, sending a barrage of punched into Beans' lower back as he poured some coffee. The punches did very little. "Calm down Meaty."

"You're a shithead, Beans!"

Beans chuckled, "Call me what you want, I can still kick yer ass."

Beef slammed his newspaper onto the counter, "Ladies, ladies! No need to get hostile. And Jesus Christ Beans, really?"

Beans sipped his coffee, "What?"

"You were fuckin' arguin' with a ten year old, and how the fuck old are you?!"

Beans threw up his hands, "Whatever dad. Now hurry up Meaty, we're runnin' late."

Beans pulled a red t-shirt on, and pulled dirty sneakers over his feet. Meaty put on the clothes that Beef had left out for him. A pair of brand new white sneakers, a new pair of track pants and a black t-shirt. As he finished, Beans tossed a plain blue backpack into his arms. "Let's go."

Beans shoved open their apartment door, walking towards the stairwell. Meaty trudged behind lazily. As they reached the truck, Beans tossed the keys to Beef. "You drive today."

Beef shrugged, pulling himself into the truck's driver's seat. Meaty climbed in, sitting on a wooden crate between Beans and Beef. After a rather short drive, Beef pulled into a parking lot. Adults were walking their children into the front door of the school. Beef looked to Meaty, "Well let's go then."

Beans and Beef led Meaty into the front door, a woman with a clipboard and pen sat at a fold out table. "Name?"

Beans scratched the back of his head, looking to Beef. Beef tapped the table with his fingers as he spoke, "Is there a Meaty on the list?"

The woman snapped her head up to the three brothers, "Yes, but I hardly think that it's his birth name." She said it, examining Meaty.

Beans sent a clenched fist onto the table, "What are you tryin' to say?"

The woman fell backwards with the chair, the clipboard clattering to the side. Beef picked up the clipboard, looking at the multitude of names under '4th Grade.' He looked down the list, checking off the box next to 'Meaty.'

"What room do we bring our child to, miss?" Beef said politely.

The woman picked the chair back up, crying softly, "R-Room eleven..."

Beef nodded, walking Meaty down the hallway. As they reached room 11, Beans shoved open the door, pushing Meaty it, and pulling it shut behind him. Meaty walked lazily into the room, kids sat at their desks chatting as the teacher read down a list, "Oh hello there young man! I am Miss Palmer, and you are?.."

Meaty contorted his jaw, "And what's it to you?"

The teacher frowned, "Meaty, I suppose? I was told you have anger issues, but that is okay, you'll have lots of fun here."

Meaty stuck out his lower jaw, furrowing his brow, "I don't got no fuckin' issues."

The class turned their heads as the new boy in class cursed at the teacher, giggling and 'Oooh'ing in unison. Miss Palmer, sighed, facepalming, "Okay. You're seated next to Marcus." She nodded at a seat in the front.

Meaty approached the seat, sliding into it and dropping his backpack at the side of his desk. The bell rang, and all the children hushed, staring at the teacher. She stood, patting down a few lumps in her red sweater with a smile. Miss Palmer couldn't have been much over 30. She had long chestnut colored hair and rather pale skin, contrasted by her colorful clothing.

"Now kids, most of you know me already as Miss Palmer. I have some really fun plans for this year, and we play games for a lot of subjects!" The kids watched, hypnotized by the teachers spirit and energy.

"Now, we're going to all get up in front of the class and introduce ourselves. Marcus, we'll start with you."

The boy sitting next to Meaty slid out of his head, standing in front of the chalkboard, his thumbs were hooked into his pockets. "So uhm... I'm Marcus Dixon... I'm from here in N'awlins... I'm 'leven years old... yeah." Marcus was the largest kid in class when it came to height. He was african-american, and his hair was styled into a tight afro. He had blank brown eyes that seemed to merge with his pupils.

Miss Palmer nodded with a smile to Meaty, "You next."

Meaty hesitantly got up, standing in front of the chalkboard. Whispers and giggles were exchanged in the crowd of ten year olds. "M'names Meaty-"

A girl's voice rose from the giggles and whispers, "Dumb name!"

Meaty clenched his fists, "I'm from L'siana..."

The girl's voice rose from the crowd again, it came from the back of the room, "Are all people from Louisiana this dumb?!"

Meaty growled in anger, walking through the desks towards the back. "Meaty! Meaty!"

Miss Palmer cried out in despair, "Meaty, no!"

The girl who was crying out in his presentation sat stunned in the back of the room. Meaty swung his clenched fist into his face multiple times, grabbing her neck with his other hand. "You fuckin' cunt, don't you fuckin' disrespect ME!"

Miss Palmer was watching the spectacle from the front of the classroom, obviously stunned. The other kids watched Meaty, frozen in their places. The girl who was crying out in the presentation slowly began sobbing. Meaty released her neck, slapping her once more, "I ain't takin' shit from no girl."

Of course, Meaty ended up in the principals office with the girl. Her face was covered with bruises. The principal spoke, his gray mustache moved with his lip. "Now... Meaty, is it?... Well... we can't have this here at our school. You can't just go around hitting people, especially girls."

Meaty grinded his teeth together, "She was callin' me names..."

The Principal shifted his tie, "Now I understand this, but it's unacceptable. The one thing to do in a case like this is to IGNORE them."

Meaty let his mouth drop open, "So you expect ever'body takin' trouble from other people to just IGNORE it?"

The Principal nodded, "Or tell the teachers."

Meaty shook his head, "I ain't a snitch. I deal with my own damn problems."

As the discussion came to an end, Meaty was to be suspended for four days, and his guardians given a phone call, none of which phased Meaty. Beans and Beef arrived to the principals office not an hour after they dropped Meaty off at school. Beef spoke first, "We're so sorry, we didn't think his anger was this bad."

Beans nodded, "Yeah, we'll try to sort him out while he's outta school."

The Principal rubbed the back of his neck, "May I ask... are you two young men... erm... his guardians?"

Beef and Beans nodded in unison. "Yep. The three of us are brothers."

The Principal nodded, "And your names are... Beans... and Beef..."

Beef nodded, "That's right."

The Principal adjusted his tie, "Hmmm... okay. Well try to keep your brother on a tighter leash."

Beans nodded, "We sure will, sir."

[Egf_Adam]

Out of Character for OOC:

Probabbly one of the best capter so far XD

[Kevin]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWtORtncUIk" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWtORtncUIk</a>

1998

New Orleans, Louisiana, In the American South.

Big Brother Beans

Meaty's head smacked into the wall as he was shoved by the fifth grader. "Dumbass can't spell his own name!"

The fifth grader was known to the whole school as Jimmy. He wasn't a particularly desirable to many of the other students, but strength in nearly any school means power. Jimmy was of Korean descent, and had a mop wispy jet black hair. His eyes were sunken in, leaving a dark ring around his rusty brown eyes. His mouth was wide, nearly spanning across the whole of his face. His shoulders hung down lazily, pumping steadily in unison with his legs whenever he walked.

Jimmy spit down on Meaty as a small posse of Jimmy's friends watched from under a basketball hoop. "Gon' get up, Buckwheat?"

Meaty wiped away a few tears from his cheek, sniffling. He curled up against the brick wall of the school. Jimmy sent another kick on Meaty's leg, who howled out in pain. The recess monitor and third grade teacher unfolded the lower half of the day's newspaper, "Jimmy, cut it out."

The request didn't hold much weight, so Jimmy spat again on Meaty's head, seeping through his fluffy blonde hair. Meaty sniffled once more, "Stop..."

Jimmy kicked Meaty again, this time just below his ribs. "Stupid redneck, what are you going to do, use your fish catching skills to beat me up?"

Another kick connected with Meaty's hip, "I said to fucking stop!"

Meaty pulled his way up the brick wall, cringing a bit as Jimmy stomped on Meaty's foot. "Finally getting up, pussy?"

Meaty began walking briskly to the corner of the building where the building and the chain link fence met, it was a common outcast recess hangout. Jimmy followed close behind, "Going back to the pussy posse?"

Meaty turned, causing Jimmy to abruptly stop in his tracks, "Fuck... you..."

Jimmy frowned, "What was that? I can't hear you over how much of a faggot you are."

Meaty nodded, "You heard me."

Jimmy grunted in anger, charging for Meaty. As Jimmy drew closer, Meaty simply slid to the side. Jimmy skidded over some dirt and sand, tripping into the chain link fence. A pair of hands stuck through two gaps between the chain links, lifting the boy up. Jimmy's expression changed from anger to a mix of confusion and fear.

Through the chain links, Beans was clutching onto Jimmy's neck and the back of his right leg. Jimmy flailed wildly in an attempt to shake free, but to no avail. Beans tightened his grip, and Jimmy began screaming. Meaty stepped forward, kneeing Jimmy in the groin.

As kids began to move towards the scuffle, Beans nodded to Meaty, letting go and casually walking down the sidewalk. As Jimmy was hunched over, crying in agony, Meaty threw his fist into the side of Jimmy's head, who then tripped onto his side and began sobbing. Meaty reared his leg back, swinging it into Jimmy's face, a tooth skipped it's away across the pavement into a puddle.

The recess monitor was pushing his way through the crowd, "Meaty, he's done!"

Meaty was kicking Jimmy in the head over and over again, until the recess monitor grabbed his shoulder and threw him to the ground, "I said he's done!"

The group of children watching the spectacle watched Meaty as he was escorted to the principals office - again.

An hour passed of sitting in the principals office, when he finally entered, he handed a two week suspension notice to Meaty. "We had to call an ambulance, Meaty."

Meaty grinned, his face lighting up, "Really?"

The principal slammed his fist onto his desk, "This is NOT okay. You should be expelled, young man. The only God damn reason you're here is because Mister and Misses Kwong understand that their son is a problem child."

Meaty nodded, "Damn right he is."

"And so are you, which is why you're seeing the guidance counselor for a half hour each day until you move up to middle school or are expelled." The principal said it slowly, but in a harsh tone. As he concluded his rant, he stood, muttering under his breath.

When the principal reached the door, he snapped his head around, "You're a real piece of work, kid. I've never insulted a child before but you're... you're just awful."

[Kevin]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_2cwhJndKY" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_2cwhJndKY</a>
I tried to find an instrumental of this, but there was only versions with lyrics. Anyways, shit happens, enjoy.

1998

New Orleans, Louisiana, In the American South.

You ain't allowed to tell, right?

Meaty groaned, gently pounding a lump out of his track pants as he noticed they were pulling into the parking lot of the church. "But it's Friday!"

Beans forced the gear into the park position, grabbing Meaty's wrist and pulling him out. Beef lazily hopped out of the truck, hanging his arms lazily at his sides. As Beans shoved open the heavy wooden door of the church, organ music filled their ears. Meaty slammed his hands against his ears, screaming, "Make it stop!"

The shout echoed through the church, and Beans slapped Meaty across the face, "Cut it out, wise ass."

Father Barton was standing at the entrance, Bible in hand. As the brothers entered, her slammed the Bible shut, looking up, "Ah. Here for confession, boys?" Father Morgan Barton was a rather chubby man, and of African-American descent. He had graying black curly hair, and tight eyes. His voice was rich and deep, as if it could change the mind of anyone who spoke to.

Beans nodded, "We'll let the tyke go first." He said it as he nudged Meaty towards Father Barton.

Father Barton nodded, smiling. Leading Meaty to an empty pew near the front of the church. Beans and Beef sat in the very last pew, whispering, as to not interrupt the multiple other confessions happening in various rows ahead of them.

Father Barton sat down slowly, but as he made contact with the bench, he sighed and slid backwards against the back of the pew. Meaty sat down briskly next to him, sighing of immediate boredom. Father Barton set his Bible next to himself on the pew. "Now... Meaty, is that what your friends call you?" He said it with a warm smile.

Meaty quickly shook his head, "It's what my brothers been callin' me since the secon' I was born."

Father Barton nodded, still smiling, "Alright. Now... we all do things we regretted later on... do you regret anything you've done? Whether it be at school or at home?"

Meaty leaned back slowly, taking a deep breath and looking back upon his actions. In his empty skull, he replayed the image of fighting Jimmy, hitting that girl on the first day of school, and generally causing trouble, but they quickly dissipated into nothing but chemicals in his brain, "Yeah."

Meaty simply stopped at that, But Barton tapped his knee with his fore finger and middle finger, "Well would you like to tell me?"

Meaty shook his head, "Nope."

Father Barton frowned, "Well call these sins to mind..." He rested his hand upon Meaty's forehead and began some barely audible prayer. Meaty shifted his eyes around awkwardly. Instead of seeing this as a confession, and his sins being resolved, all Meaty saw was an old black man holding his head and babbling religious mumbo-jumbo.

As Father Barton concluded his prayer, Meaty quickly shuffled away, Beef slid next to the Father, nodding to him. "Evenin' father."

Father Barton smiled heartily, "Nice to see you here at confession today, sir."

Beef cleared his throat, "Well I don't quite... I'm not catholic or whatever... but I'm here anyways for my sins to be absolved."

The Father nodded, "I understand... now remember we all commit sins that we're not- or rather shouldn't be proud of. Can you call to mind these sins?"

Beef tapped the bench promptly, "Yes I can, Father."

Father Barton closed his eyes, "Would you like to share?"

Beef slowly shook his head, "Is it required?"

"No, not at all, but preferred."

Beef took a deep breath, "What if I only say a few?"

The Father shrugged, "It's all up to you, sir."

Beef shook his head, "Nevermind."

Father Barton put his hand on Beef's forehead, reciting the same prayer as he did Meaty. Beef didn't care to listen, as this particular religion didn't enthrall him, it was more just to humor Beans, but also to make himself feel some way better morally.

As the second confession concluded, Beans took Beef's position next to the Father, "Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

Father Barton nodded, at this time, all his energy was gone, simply from the lack of enthusiasm from Beef and Meaty. "And what are these sins, my son?"

Beans held up a finger, "I was told you guys can't babble about our sins to anyone, is that right?"

Father Barton nodded slowly, "Whatever you do is only yours and God's business."

Beans nodded, thinking deeply for a few moments, "Sometimes I hit my little brother, Meaty..."

Father Barton nodded, cocking his head to the side slightly, out of curiosity of what he'd say next. Beans took another deep breath, "I took money from a cash register at a gas station."

This was obviously the juiciest thing Father Barton had heard all day, because his jaw dropped a bit, Beans continued slowly, "I shot someone in that gas station... but to be fair, he was gon' shoot some girl..."

Father Barton slid slightly further away from Beans, nodding slowly as Beans continued down the list of offenses, "Me and my brother also shot a few junkies in a parking lot... and then we... I... stabbed a cop in the neck with a kitchen knife... he died..."

Father Barton's breathing was now steadily speeding up. Beans wasn't done yet, "I also bought some crack, and tried sellin' it... didn't work out... and then I finished off some dying guys in a back room strip club here in N' O'leans... and then I helped my little brother beat a kid up..."

Father Barton nodded shakily, "Are you truly sorry for... for doing these things?"

Beans rubbed his chin, "Mostly, yeah."

Barton shrugged, "Alright..." He nervously put his hand on Beans' forehead, nervously murmuring the prayer.

When he finished, Beans hopped up, nodding to the Father, "Thanks."

Beans quickly walked to his brothers, dragging them from the church in order to avoid a possible outburst from Father Barton. It was later found out that the Father had fainted and got a concussion, and when asked what happened, he insisted that he couldn't tell anyone.

[Kevin]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUWMSVDPdGQ" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUWMSVDPdGQ</a>

1998

New Orleans, Louisiana, In the American South.

A Meaty Halloween

Beef kept his head completely straight walked tiredly down the street behind his little brother. Dancing all along the sidewalks and street were people dressed as ghouls, spooks and creepers of all kinds. Meaty was dressed as a boxer, complete with gloves and boxing shorts, and though he didn't want to, Beef made him wear a sweatshirt due to the piercingly cold night air.

Meaty ran up to the door of a bar, squeezing between two drunks in what seemed to be rabbit costumes. Beef followed close behind pulling his hands further into his flannel shirt, shivering from the cold, "Come right back out, Meaty."

He leaned on a short white picket fence, watching all the costumed people dance around the street. Children were the minority in this particular area, as most of the dressed up people were adults, partying the night away. Meaty returned back outside, clutching a small baggie of peanuts, "This was all they got, fuckin' tryin' to trick us!"

"Meat... it was a bar, not a house. All they got was peanuts and jerky. Try some more apartments or somethin'."

As they found a small apartment block, Beef leaned on the wall outside, tapping his knees. A drunk stumbled up to Beef, "T-Thuh fuck you doin'... doin' lettin' a kid o-out here..."

He hiccuped every few words. Beef lifted his head, eyeing the man, "I'm takin' my brother trick 'r treatin'... that okay, SIR?"

The emphasis on sir made the drunk mumble in return, "You fuggin' asshole.. it's..."

He looked at his watch, hiccuping as he tried to make out the time, "I's three in thah mornin'!"

Beef shook his head promptly, "I can see from here, your watch says eight thirty two sharp. I plan on gettin' him home by nine, don't you worry about my kid brother, that's my job."

He groaned kicking the curb in anger, "I don't like your t-tone.. b-boy!"

Beef nodded in acknowledgement, "Good. We all got opinions. Fair. Now go the fuck back to the bar, you'll forget about me by mornin' anyways."

Beef could easily foreshadow that the vagrant would try to launch an attack upon him. Beef merely stood still as the drunkard staggered forward and tripped over the curb, his head slamming into the sidewalk. He fell unconscious, Beef smirked, turning his head to the apartment block. Meaty must have still been inside trick or treating.

Beef's attention shifted back to opposite side of the street as a shout was heard, a man dressed as Elvis cried out, "He knocked out Filmore!"

Beef waved his arms, "He did it to 'imself, fell on the pavement."

But it was too late Elvis was trotting across the street, waving around an inflatable guitar. As he got close enough, he lunged forward, swinging the inflatable guitar into Beef's face. It did no damage whatsoever, except for Beef's eyes shutting instinctively. Beef grabbed for the guitar, tossing it aside and swinging his leg at the man's shin. The man buckled over a bit, grunting in anger, Beef quickly began swinging his fists wildly into the man's head. He took quite a few hits before falling onto his back, next to his unconscious friend.

As Elvis fell, the back of Beef's head was struck with a stinging pain, and he tripped forward on top of the fake Elvis, crying out. As Elvis pushed Beef from on top of him, another one of the "anti-trick or treater" troop dropped the bottle dropped the neck of the bottle that he used to strike Beef over the head with.

Elvis and the other attacker began kicking Beef all over his chest, stomach, and a few times in the face. Meaty emerged from the apartment block, his jaw dropping. He spun quickly on his heels, slinging his pillow case of candy over his shoulder and sprinting down the sidewalk. Luckily for Beef, this was the end of their candy route, and their apartment was but a block away.

Beef was beaten for several minutes, but not to the point of unconsciousness, amazingly. The two conscious attackers and a few of their friends were laughing over Beef, dragging him into an alleyway, tossing him next to a dumpster as they tried to open it in their half drunken state. Beef's head fell lazily to the left. At the end of the alleyway, a hooded figure held both hands in one side of a halfway un-zipped black sweatshirt, he shouted hoarsely at the group, "Back the fuck up!"

Meaty was behind the hooded figure, a crowd gathering behind them both. Cries were heard from the crowd, "Fight! Kick 'is ass! Stab 'im! Kill that douchebag!"

One of fake Elvis' comrades pulled out a switchblade, flicking it out, "Wanna mess, fucker?"

The hooded figure unzipped his sweatshirt fully, using his free hand to pull out a sawed off Remington 870, both the stock and barrel were cut down, as to make easy to hide. The hooded man pumped the shotgun, taking aim down the alleyway. The crowd behind Meaty and the hooded figure, who was obviously Beans, began stirring, one of the crowd approaching Beans from behind, but he quickly shouted out before being attacked, "Hit me and I fuckin' blow Elvis' brains all over his fuckin' pals!"

The men retreated back into the crowd as Beans moved closer to the group at the end of the alleyway, "Everyone get the hell out of here, Except Elvis and friends."

The whole group dissipated into the street, some of them denying it was real, but instead an act to entertain the populace. Beans nodded at Beef, "Get up."

As Beef struggled to stand, Beans approached Elvis, swinging the barrel of the shotgun into his jaw, cursing at him, "Fuckin' pushover. Beefy, is this the one? Elvis?"

Beef nodded shakily, "A-and the one i-in the green shirt..."

Beans kept the shotgun on Elvis, who whimpered under his breath. He found the green shirted one, the one with the switchblade, "Stab Elvis in the arm."

The green shirted man quickly did as he was told, stabbing fake Elvis in the arm, as Elvis was screaming, Beans swung his foot into the green-shirted one in the groin, leading his brothers to the exit of the alleyway as he stowed the weapon in his sweatshirt.

[Kevin]

THIS IS A REVAMP OF MY SHITTY 7 HOUR WAR CHAPTER.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST2H8FWDvEA" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST2H8FWDvEA</a>

2015

Mayberry, Louisiana, In the American South.

Strange Occurances In Mayberry, Louisiana.

Gilbert walked from the garage into the front room, nodding to Beef. "Jus' goin' for some grub, I'm damn hungry. I'll be back in a half hour."

Beef nodded idly, not looking up from his comic strip in the daily paper. Meanwhile in the garage, Beans revved the engine of an airboat, peeking back at Meaty, "Anythin'?"

Meaty stood in front of the fan of the airboat, "Not a damn thing. This thing couldn't blow a pile a' loose leaves."

Bean grunted, turning the airboat off and meeting Meaty behind the fan of the vehicle. "Get me the socket wrench."

Meaty walked over to the tool shelves, grabbing a socket wrench from a small row of similar tools. As he made his way back to the airboat, the lights above him flickered, he looked up, raising an eyebrow. Outside, the neon sign hanging on the garage that read 'Mayberry Auto and Air Boat' began flickering, eventually shutting off completely.

Beef slapped his newspaper down, looking at the clock. 4:56 P.M. He sighed, "I'll go get it. My break is up in a few minutes anyways."

Beef walked into the main garage, going up to a hatch door in the floor of the garage. He grabbed the handle, lifting it up. He hopped down the narrow metal stairs, trudging into the generator room of the garage. He flicked the switch for the main power off, then back on. "Anythin'?

Meaty's reply echoed through the small hallway and into Beef's ears, "Nope!"

Beef facepalmed, "Yer probably drawin' too much power! try unpluggin' some-"

He stopped short, a small brown lump with legs knocked at the narrow basement window, breaking through the aged glass and rotten wood. Beef quickly grabbed a crowbar from a hook on the wall, watching the creature edge closer, "Beeeeans?..."

Beans' shout was deafening, "Get the fuck up here!"

A sort of explosion was heard in the distance, and then another. Beef scurried through the hallway clutching the crowbar, and up the narrow metal stairs. As he reached the top, he kicked the hatch shut, turning around only to see several more of the brown lumps scurrying through the half open garage door.

Beans clutched a tire iron, and Meaty held the socket wrench in his dominant right hand, waving it around, "I say we hit 'em, we don't know what they is, so it's only fair."

One of the lumps lunged for Meaty, wrapping itself around his arm. Beans ran up to Meaty, swinging the tire iron on the lump. An audible crack was heard from what was thought to be the back of the brownish lump. Meaty yelled in confusion, shaking the limp creature off. Beans nodded, "Hit 'em, I'll be right back."

Beans made his way into the main office, opening up their safe with the proper combination. Within the safe was a smaller safe, an appropriate size for a single pistol. Beans quickly reached in, grabbing his Smith & Wesson .357.

He heard shouting from the garage, but tried ignoring it. He popped the cylinder out from the revolver. He reached back into the safe, grabbing a green and white box Remington .38 special hollow points. He took a few rounds out, jamming them into the slots in the cylinder, his breathing began shaking and quickening. As all 6 slots in the revolver's cylinder were filled, he shut the box of ammunition, jamming it into his pocket, the corners of the box crumpling a bit.

He slapped the cylinder into place, pulling the hammer back as he rushed in to the garage to see Beef being pinned down by a large bug, and by large, it was about the size of a 12 year old boy, but far stronger. Meaty swung the socket wrench at more of the lumps, conflicted as the whether he should wait for Beans or hit the bug off Beef himself. Before he could decide, Beans took aim, firing a round towards the abdomen of the over sized bug. The round tore through it, and the hollow point did it's job, breaking up within the bug to cause even more devastating damage.

Beef threw the bug off him, rushing outside. Beans followed behind with Meaty, "Beef! Slow the fuck down!"

Outside, things were far, far worse. Gunshots echoed in throughout the town. More of the yellowish green bugs flew around, the small brown lumpy creatures hopped around, some of the lumps attached to the heads of humans as they trudged around idly, moaning and groaning. Pickup trucks and cars sped down the road, nearly colliding with eachother.

Beans scratched his head, jogging towards the small parking lot at the side of the garage. He pulled keys from his belt as he yanked open the truck's door. Beef and Meaty got in the passenger side, Meaty sitting on the dusty truck floor between the two truck's seats. Beans tossed the revolver into Meaty's lap, "Swap spots with Beefy for now."

Meaty nodded, shimmying under Beef as he lifted himself over Meaty and between the two seats. Beef put the .38's on the dashboard in front of Meaty. He revved the aged engine of the rusty pickup truck, speeding out of the empty parking lot. Beans tried dodging all the people running across the street and the other vehicles. They reached the intersection of Main Street and veered off towards the right, trying to ease around the turn. A sedan sped down the street, meeting the intersection as Beans did, swerving into the front of Wilson boys' pickup side first, making a booming crashing sound.

Beans hit the steering wheel, his chest took all the impact, and he was rendered unconscious immediately. Meaty hit the dashboard in the same way that Beans did, unconscious as well. The only one of the three still conscious was Beef, who had busted his head against the center console of the truck, breaking the radio. He groaned in agony, looking to Beans, "Buh-... Beans..."

Beans didn't respond, and he turned to Meaty, "Meat-... Meaaaaty..."

No response. Beef reached up, grabbing the revolver from Meaty's loose grip. On the cracked windshield, Someone had climbed on, one of the lumps attached to his head. The person raised the hands, smashing them into the windshield, cracking it more, groaning in anger. Beef cringed, curling against the side of Beans' seat and pulling the hammer of the revolver back, aiming at the man on their windshield. He aimed at the center of his chest, firing. The sound of the shot ripped through Beef's ears, and the ringing made him temporarily deaf. The man rolled off the hood of the truck, thudding sickly onto the ground in front of it. Beef gritted his teeth, his ears still ringing as he pushed by Meaty and tripped out the door.

Beef staggered up, all his hearing was gone, but he turned slowly all the way around. People were trying to pry the things off their heads, the gigantic bugs sat on top of shops and tore people's bodies apart, the brown lumps hopped and scurried around town, wreaking havoc and breaking shop windows to get to vulnerable people.

Beef eased himself into a sitting position, curling up against the back tire of the truck, obviously dumbstruck.

[Kevin]

I edited the previous chapter nearing the end, I didn't like where it was heading, adding a new chapter some time soon.

[Kevin]

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DeumyOzKqgI" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DeumyOzKqgI</a>

For the next few parts, I may be recycling some of the same music, so ye.

2015

Mayberry, Lousiana, In the American South.

The wrath of God is upon us...

Beef gradually regained his hearing, first he heard more gunshots echoing from all corners of their small town, then screaming and explosions, and finally the crackling of fires burning within shops. Beef grabbed the revolver from next to him, popping the cylinder our. Four rounds.

Beef pushed the cylinder back in tired, staggering up. He tripped his way to the sedan they destroyed, looking in at a dead driver, her face mashed into the steering wheel, blood dripped off it. He looked on the passenger seat, the woman was obviously concerned about her protection, because a scoped Remington 788 rested on the seat, along with two unopened boxes of .308 ammunition.

Beef turned, tripping weakly on the ground, groaning, "B-Beeeans..."

A raspy voice hissed from within the truck, "Shaddap..."

Beef lifted his head, "Get out h-here..."

The sound of the door creaking open on the other side of the truck was audible over the crackling fires down the street. Beef looked beneath the truck, Beans' oil stained work boots clomped over the pavement. He appeared at the back corner of the truck, trudging towards Beef. He stopped to pull open Meaty's door. Meaty fell limply out, his head smacking off the curb, "Fuck..."

Beans tripped over him, crawling to Beef. He pushed himself up, helping Beef up, "Is the other guy dead?..."

Beef nodded, "She has a rifle.. guess she was tryin' to defend herself too..."

Beans looked through the cracked windshield of the destroyed sedan, walking around to the passenger side. As Beans grabbed the rifle and examined it, Beef went into the truck and grabbed the .38 hollowpoints. Beans pulled the rifle out, popping out the small magazine. "Three round magazine is empty... dumb woman."

Beans sat in the sedan in the passenger seat, ignoring the fact that a dead body was about two feet from him. He opened up one of the boxes of ammo, pulling out three rounds and feeding it into the magazine. He did this a few times over, until he had filled all four of the woman's magazines. Three went into his pockets, one in the weapon, and the boxes of ammo in Meaty's pockets.

Beans led his brothers down the street, seeing nothing but bodies of all species strewn about the road. Overhead, a strange looking aircraft drifted away into the distance. The three brothers watched it sail towards the bayou on the outskirts of town. Their focus was shifted down the street as a loud crashing was heard down the street. A tank knocked over a wooden power pole, the wires above the brothers sparked, ripping apart.

Beans raised the rifle, examining the tank as the main cannon slowly whirred to face down the road it had emerged from. The boys crouched behind a car, watching the tank. A few loud pops and cracks were prominently heard, and projectiles pinged off the tank. The whole tank recoiled backwards as the cannon went off, the sound was deafening, and almost immediately after, a loud boom came from the direction the shot was fired.

After a long pause and silence, the top hatch of the tank opened, a helmeted figure emerged, looking around nervously. Beans slowly stood, raising the rifle in the air, “Hey!”

The soldier quickly turned in Beans direction, aiming his Beretta M9 at him, “Guns on the fucking car!”

Beans laid his rifle on the car, looking to Beef, whose hands were empty. The revolver stuck from the back of his pants, pulling them down slightly.

The soldier kept his aim, “Uh-… now… “

A projectile struck the soldier’s helmet, and chunks of what probably used to be his brain sprayed through the exit hole of the helmet, and the soldier slumped limply into the tank. An arm quickly stuck up from the hatch, pulling it shut and the body inside.

Beans slowly turned to his brothers, biting his lip, “What now?”

Meaty was way ahead of them, jogging to the tank. Beef cursed, calling out, “Meaty, whatever shot him will shoot you too, dipshit!”

Beef began jogging after his younger brother. Behind the still tank, the horrifyingly disgusting carcass of one of the soldiers, rifle in hand. Meaty smiled, pulling the M16A4 from the soldier’s hands and slinging it over his shoulder. “Fuckin’ sweet.”

Beans and Beef stood over the brother, scanning the quiet and seemingly empty town. Meaty unclipped the soldier’s molle vest, pulling it over himself. “I’m a right soldier now.”

Beans turned his head to the tank, a white spraypainted stencil read ‘U.S. Army’

“Beef, back of that tank,  that says Army, right?”

Beef turned and looked at the stencil, “Sure does. What the fuck is the United States army doin’ in fuckin’ Mayberry Louisiana?”

Meaty threw his arms in the air, rifle in hand, “Fightin’ the invisible fuckin’ monsters!”

His shout echoed through the small town, breaking the eerie silence. Meaty grabbed onto the back of the tank, slamming the butt of the rifle against the tank’s top hatch, “HellloooOOOOOooo!”

A muffled response came from within the Abrams tank, “Who is it?!”

Meaty looked to his brothers, smiling, “One of the big green scary bugs.”

After a long pause, a shifting and clacking was heard from the hatch. Meaty looked down to his brother, shrugging. He grabbed the lip of the hatch, pulling on it. It opened with a bit of a struggle. The barrel of a rifle poked Meaty in the chin, “What the fuck do you want?”

Meaty furrowed his brow, “Well I’m obviously one of the big green bugs here to eat your children.”

Beans and Beef watched, frozen in place. The rifle pulled back into the hatch, and it opened all the way. “Come on in.”

Meaty dropped the rifle into the tank, nodding to his brothers, “Let’s go.”

As they all came in, the hatch above them was pulled shut. Two living soldiers sat next to one another, with a dead soldier at either side of them. “How did you guys survive?”

Beans shrugged, “Just bugs is all it is.”

One of the soldiers raised a brow, tossing his helmet aside, “You didn’t see the tripods?”

Beef leaned forward, obviously  intrigued, “Tripods?”

The second soldier nodded, tapping a boot knife against the side of the small enclosed space, “Big blue fuckin’ machine gun robot things. They shoot these huge fork things that kind of… pop after a few seconds. Saw one of them kill like… twenty people in one go, before we finally nailed him with an armor piercing round.”

Beef rubbed his chin, “Wait, why are you boys here in Mayberry?”

The first soldier contorted his jaw a bit, “You didn’t fucking hear?”

Beef shook his head. The soldier spoke again, “Damn it… why don’t you  hicks ever listen to fucking national radio or watch the news?... Well these weird species invaded the United States with all these fancy machines, there’s even been reports of these big like… seven foot tall super soldiers in blue and white uniforms, but that’s just speculation from command, received reports of these guys from another unit in Virginia. We’re here in Louisiana because you were one of the last places to have reports of getting hit- and you were one of the least hit in the United States, so several companies came down here to Louisiana, Georgia, Mississippi and parts of Florida to see if we could hold out… obviously we couldn’t, so now it’s just a bit inter species skirmish. And some say it’s not even the United States, reports are coming from all major powers around the world, China, the United Kingdom, Russia, Japan, Germany… everywhere. “

As the long explanation came to an end, the Abrams tank began shaking slowly back and forth.  A synthetic whining screeched outside the tank, and the soldiers crawled to their stations. Meaty clutched his rifle, looking around confused. Beans crawled towards the two soldiers who sat in their positions, “All we got left is high explosive.”

The soldier pushed the large bullet like shell into the main gun, grabbing hold of a cover for the gun for those inside the tank. “Ready to fire.”

Beans couldn’t see what the second soldier was doing, but the tank shook, and the main gun turned. Beans peered out of a viewing slot with the first soldier, one of the blue tripods clung to the main cannon of the Abrams, jabbing at it with one of its claws. The gunning soldier groaned, “I can get a shot, it’s on the damned gun.”

Out of the viewing slot, the unknown tripod like creature machine bounced up and down on the main gun, bending it a bit each bounce. The gunner turned again, “The gun is too misaligned to fire at all, we could fuckin’ blow up.”

The creature didn’t stop until the end of the cannon made contact with the ground. The five of them crammed together in the tank, the first soldier pushed by the three brothers, unholstering his Beretta M9. He unlocked the hatch, shoving it open with a grunt. Outside of the viewing port, the tripod creature turned its attention to the opening hatch. As the soldier emerged, he quickly fired several shots towards the creature, who simply whined a bit as the bullets made contact. He quickly pulled the hatch shut as the tripod lunged for the hatch. “Well… that didn’t work…”

Bangs and thuds were heard throughout the Abrams. The second soldier facepalmed, “Must be those famous super soldiers firing at us…”

[Kevin]

For those who give any fucks, I've kinda ignored the story for a while. I plan on removing some more useless and off topic chapters because I honestly have no idea why I included them.

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6NDdF-R2uk" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6NDdF-R2uk</a>

2015

Somewhere in Louisiana, In the American South.

”Seven foot tall fucking super soldier.”

The second soldier looked to the first, “Hayworth… I think we’re pinned down.”

The first soldier, Hayworth apparently, looked to the second soldier, “Doctor Patton,  PhD in the fucking obvious.”

Patton looked to Hayworth, “Hardy fucking harr.”

Hayworth pushed himself by Patton, sitting in the driver’s position, grabbing hold of the levers. He turned over his shoulder to the others, “Hang on, I’m gon’ haul ass.”

Hayworth pulled one of the levers back, the tank reversed, pulling the power post down with it, it came crashing atop the tank, shaking the entire vehicle. He grabbed another set of controls, turning the tank. He threw a lever forward, slowly rolling down the street, past the brother’s pickup truck that was crashed into the sedan.

Hayworth looked over his shoulder, “We only got a small bit of fuel left, but we can make it out of town.”

The vehicle got them out of town and onto the freeway towards Houston, Texas. After a short while of driving down the freeway and rolling over smaller vehicles, the fuel tank was empty and the Abrams tank rolled to a stop, the crooked gun up front creating sparks as it grinded against the ground.

Patton and Hayward squeezed near the brothers, pulling their pistols. Patton sighed, unlocking the hatch, “We don’t know what’s outside, if there even is anything, but be ready to fight, command says these creatures are all over.”

Patton pushed the hatch open, pulling himself out. Hayworth followed, then Meaty, then Beef, and finally Beans. Each of the men clutched their weapons, marching towards Houston. Several miles down the road and a few hours after they’d left the safety of the tent, they came across a Humvee mashed together engine first with an eighteen wheeler truck.

Beef read the back for his brothers, “United States Army, too.”

Hayworth and Patton looked over the bodies, Beans stood behind them, “Anyone you knew?”

They both shook their heads. Meaty pulled open the back seat of the Humvee, pulling one of the deceased soldiers from the seat. “Move it asshole.”

Meaty climbed in the Humvee, digging around. Beans bent down next to the fully armored body, turning him over. Attached to his chest was the standard US M67 frag grenade. Beans clipped it off slowly, “Guuuys… look what this stiff had.”

He held the grenade above his head as he knelt down, still checking over the body. Beef’s eyes widened, “Holy shit!”

Beans smiled, pulling the molle vest from the body and pulling it over himself. He clipped the grenade to the vest. He pulled open one of the pouches on the vest, pulling out a magazine of ammunition. After examining it, he shoved it back in the vest, pulling the guard for it back over, standing up.

Meaty emerged from the Humvee with an M4A1, tossing it to Beans with a smile, “Since you got one of them ammo vests…”

Beans caught it, chuckling a bit as he pulled the magazine from the assault rifle, checking it for ammo. Beans tossed the hunting rifle to Beef along with its ammunition, and not a moment too soon. Above them, a giant metallic looking creature whirred along the highway into the distance, a container held to it by what seemed like legs. Hayworth stood on top of an SUV, muttering to himself. Patton climbed up next to him, cursing aloud. “Oh fuck.”

Beans rested his assault rifle on a sedan, climbing up. His view was partly blocked, but he could make out several towering figures strutting down the center median of the highway. He hopped down, grabbing the rifle and looking to his brothers. “Well it looks like a few guys comin’ down here-“

Patton slapped Beans on the back of the head, “It’s the fucking super soldiers, dipshit!”

Beans rubbed his nose, curling his lip, “How about never fucking slapping me again?”

Patton shook his head, “Now ain’t the time for jokes, redneck-“

Beans slapped him in the back of the head, only about three times as hard, sending him stumbling a bit, “Wasn’t a fucking joke, asshat. Now we should probably get ready.”

Beef grabbed Meaty’s arm, “Let’s go.”

Meaty pushed Beef away, “I’ll follow yeh, just don’t fucking grab my arm, I ain’t no kid or some queer-o-sexual!”

Beef began walking, calibrating the scope on the rifle as he walked, “I have my doubts.”

Beans listened to their bickering  end as the light slamming of a car door came from about thirty feet behind him. He looked to Patton and Hayworth, they disappeared into the small marsh alongside the highway. Beans scratched his head, looking around. Somewhere down the road, he heard the slightly audible sound of beeping followed by robotic and sharp voices. He hunched a bit, briskly walking to an eighteen wheeler nearby. He held the rifle in one hand, pulling up the latch on the back of the truck and lifting the door. He slid the rifle in, pulling himself up.

Inside the trunk, multiple crates were stacked near the back. Beans turned, pulling the door shut. He felt around, the beeps and voices were near the truck by now. Beans felt desperately around the dark, groaning a bit, whispering to himself, “Lord please fucking help me right now…”

He snapped his head towards the door of the truck as he heard the latch grinding, “Clearing.”

He grabbed his rifle, aiming towards the grinding door. The door began to rise, and the bluish-gray armor of one of the super soldiers became progressively more visible until the head was revealed by the door. The soldier’s eyes glowed an icy bright blue, nearly hurting Beans eyes. Beans pulled the trigger as the soldier began raising his weapon.

Several of the shots merely deflected after impacting the helmet, while several others penetrated through the soldier’s armor. The soldier staggered backward, it’s  awkward and clunky looking weapon clattering to the ground. After staggering a few steps backwards, the soldier finally crumpled together to the ground. Beans gritted his teeth, the shots bounced off the walls of the trailer and struck his eardrums with such force that rendered him temporarily deaf.

His gaze inadvertently snapped towards the side of the trailer as light poured in after a hole was punched through, obviously by a bullet. Beans still gritted his teeth, dropping the assault rifle on the floor of the trailer and slumping against a box, whining and rubbing his ears with his wrists.

As the high pitched screeching whine within his head died down, he began hearing shouting and the distinctive claps of gunfire. He reached out for his rifle, pulling himself on his chest towards the edge of the truck. He propped the rifle up, scanning out. Down the highway, Beef and Meaty were their rifles from behind the back of a small sedan, crushed against the guard rail on the side median of the highway. In the ditch alongside the highway, Beans could make out Hayworth and Patton firing their pistols from a prone position.

Beans hand nearly instinctively reached for his chest, his fingers wrapped around the foreign feeling of the fragmentation grenade. He brought it in front of his face, still groaning steadily as his hearing wasn’t completely back yet. His index finger wriggled its way into the ring of the grenade, and he yanked it out, his hand still clasping the spoon of the grenade tightly. He took a deep breath, releasing his fingers from the side of the grenade. The spoon popped off, clattering against the side of the trailed and onto the wooden floor of it. Beans heart began racing, and began chanting to himself, “Shit, shit shit…”

Beans threw himself to the edge of the open trailer, he hung out a few feet above the highway below him. He pulled himself to the side of the truck, still on the edge, and through the grenade towards the cabin of the truck, his arm wrapping awkwardly around the side of the truck to do so. The grenade scraped along the roadway below it. Beans grabbed onto the edge of the truck with both hands, letting his rifle sit next to him.

As the grenade detonated, The truck lurched sideways, the trailed simply hung there for a moment. The trailer fell on it’s side and began rolling into the ditch alongside the highway, Beans rolling with it. About halfway down, he bounced out of the trailer, rolling down the rest of the ditch solo.

Beans opened his eyes, how much time had passed was unknown. The gunfire had ceased. He turned his head slowly, grunting. His stiff neck loosened a bit, and he looked at the trailer, it was crumpled up in several places, and bullet sized holes were riddled both sides of it, obviously Beans, in his deaf state, couldn’t have known how many times the trailer was actually hit. Beans let his head fall back once more, all his did was groan. “Aghhh…”

Meaty’s voice cried out from within the wooded area alongside the highway, “I hear some’in’, ya’ll!”

The sound of snapping twigs and the crunching of leaves grew nearer, and he closed his eyes. Meaty made his way around the trees to Beans at the end of the ditch, “Where the fuck you been?”

Beans’ eyes snapped open, his upper lip twitched, “Sending nudey photos of you to Fox fucking news.”

Meaty took the butt of his assault rifle, lightly jabbing it against Beans’ groin, “Fuckin’ ass.”

Beans cringed a bit, sitting up stiffly, “When I stand up you best watch your hind quarters.”
In the distance, a loud screech was followed by several bursts of gunfire. Beans sat up a bit more, grunting. Meaty held down his hand, Beans grabbed it, pulling himself up, face to face with Meaty. Beans quickly and roughly slapped Meaty’s face. Meaty put his hand over the red hand mark, “The fuck?”

Beans scanned the brush for his assault rifle, murmuring, “Said I’d muff you up when I got up…”

A few more bursts of gunfire rang out in the distance, Beans sighed. “Well shit… let’s hope they can hold…”

In distance where the gunfire rang out from, Beef, Patton and Hayworth were squeezed together, all covering behind the same downed oak tree. Beef stuck his head up, resting his revolver on the oak. One of the bluish black tripods ensconced itself in the dirt with its claws, firing the large blue popping flechette darts it was famous for. Multiple darts struck the already somewhat shredded oak tree, popping within it after a few seconds. The tripod creature was accompanied by one of the super soldiers, but one who was already dead.

Hayworth raised himself a bit, resting his M9 on the oak and firing several shots, only one actually struck the creature. The creature responded with more flechettes and another high pitched whine. Patton looked to Hayworth shaking his head, “We can’t fucking do this, why isn’t it dying or breaking or some shit?”

Patton looked around the bland stereotypical forest. Nothing but trees and bushes of different sorts in sight. While Beef and Hayworth were busy complaining, Patton scrunched down to the dirt, grabbing a rock.  He recoiled back against the log as a flechette struck the dirt next to him. “Damn it…”

Patton brought his arm back, arching it over the log. The rock soared over the creature, doing absolutely nothing. The rock, probably meant to be a distraction for the creature, didn’t catch the creature’s attention in the slightest. Patton stood up, obviously expecting the tripod to be busy focusing on the rock. He fired his pistol empty, the six shots remaining before taking two of the giant flechettes to his chest. Patton was thrown to the dirt, two rough baseball sized craters in his chest.

Hayworth watched in horror as Patton was thrown to the dirt, he screamed out, pushing himself to his feet. Beef fell onto his stomach, reaching for Hayworth’s leg, “Don’t you fucking moron!”

Beans and Meaty emerged from two separate trees behind the creature wielding the assault rifles. Beans raised his M4A1, holding the trigger down. Bullets sprayed from the rifle, striking the creature and the trees behind it. Beef brought his arms back into himself, curling into a ball in the foliage and dirt behind the tree.

The tripod whined and fell to the side against a tree as Beans finished up the magazine. Meaty jogged towards the creature, jamming the barrel of the M16 against its eye. “The only three legged thing allowed in this area is yours truly.” Meaty reached down, grabbing his crotch, keeping the barrel of the rifle pressed up against the creatures one synthetic eye as he pulled down on the trigger multiple times.

Hayworth dropped onto his knees next to Patton, gently poking at the wounds shakily between sobs. “O-Oh God… Man d-don’t fucking leave me… Oh God…”

Beans  gently jabbed Hayworth’s shoulder with the barrel of the rifle, “Time to go…”