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JZ&G
Ch.44: RGBCYMK scare

Ch.44: RGBCYMK scare

# Ch.44: RGBCYMK scare

A battle cruiser slowly moved under the sea.

The hull held pretty well, so no animalistic abominations were harmed.

Since the lower decks with all the fun things were mostly flooded,

and they didn't have much to do inside their rooms,

the creatures were still lounging in the library, reading books.

F1: I know this is strange to ask, but why are you so serious?

Z: Nothing mundane entertains me anymore; the value just washed away.

Science and Engineering are the only things that motivate me.

F1: That sounds rather sad.

Z: That is The Cost, but I manage. How about you?

F1: ...I don't know yet. You are good company though.

Z: I can say the same. At least you are tolerable. Most of the time.

F5: *reading book silently*

'THE conscious and intelligent manipulation of the

organized habits and opinions of the masses is

an important element in democratic society.'

F5: Huh. I guess that's why it had 'EVIL' pasted on the cover.

F4: This library sure has some variety. I guess that is for knowing the enemy?

F6: *reading printout*

'Nudists, as a group, are healthier sexually than the general population.'

I guess that makes sense.

F2: I don't think any of this makes sense! *looking at LPD monitor*

'Hong Kong will always be a British territory,

and nobody will ever pay $8 for a Mocha Frappuccino'

What does any of that mean? Why they seemed like universal laws?

F3: I think that a Frappuchino is a very fancy coffee,

but I am not much of a coffee drinker myself, so I do not know.

F2: Have any of us actually tried coffee?

F3: I'm not actually sure.

G: Well, the "antidote" from back then was like coffee minus the flavor.

F4: Then it's definitely not very good.

F2: Can you explain what he meant here though?

G: Of course, but for that, let's start with some history...

Later that afternoon...

G: ...It is basically the real-life version of SCP-3125,

although just deducing its existence may or may not get you vaporized.

In my opinion, that author was as high as a kite.

F6: I don't feel vapor-y right now.

F3: What were we talking about?

F2: Wait, what is SCP-3125?

G: Well...

J: *Opens door* I'm done with the kid.

F1: There is one person still.

F1: Sir-

J: I know, I know.

Let me just do a quick background check to know who I'm dealing with.

J: *looking at computer*

J: ...

J: That. Motherfucker.

G: Wait, who?

J: Want to see for yourself? *turns monitor*

G: Oh.

Z: Oh.

J: I'll be quick with this one.

A man. A collection of glass swans.

He can't handle them so broken shards are strewn around the white background.

The writer definitely isn't being lazy.

Death comes with a 4-gauge, because a mere blade apparently wasn't enough.

J: *crunch, crunch*

E1: Who's there!?

J: *BOOM*

J: Death. How's that, huh!?

I bet that you ate babies for breakfast and had new puppy slippers every day!

Having his torso removed was quite the shock, but looking at his face,

one could deduce that he was trying to say: "The fuck are you talking about-

AHHH THE PAIN!"

J: Let me fix that face... *stock smack* There.

Within his last seconds, Jack spat on him, twice, teabagged him,

and fed him Flamin' Hot Cheetos. In very quick succession.

G: ...I don't even want to know what he's doing to that person.

Z: He is-

G: Don't tell me!

F5: Can I see?

Z: Yes.

G: No!

The rest of the days on the ships were rather uneventful.

They would occasionally go through rough seas, or bomb giant squids,

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but overall, they reached their destination without a hitch.

In the Bradley,

the Waterfox(es) reached a blackish coast surrounded by such dark

and oppressive skies that they were actually comparable to London's.

Then they got on the nearby two-lane road.

Unfortunately, they hit a toll road within thirty seconds of travel.

To make matters worse, the thug^H^H^H^Hoperator was a bear.

A sun bear.

Z: I would like to remind you that the air is quite polluted in here,

so it would be best if you put your helmets on.

I modified them so they could see your face.

F4: Shouldn't you have done that earlier?

Z: People do not tend to like them either ways, so it's better to be safe.

G: Just put your helmets on, open the driver's hatch,

and casually talk to the operator, alright?

F5: Yeah, yeah, fine. I think I would be better off without black lung.

F1 opened the hatch.

100: Ellur. Dowly day, innit?

F1: Uhhh... Hello?

The bear had a Hull accent,

from the only place with more sucks per square metre than London,

but fortunately for us humans, not nearly as large.

Honestly, I find it physically painful to write such an accent,

so just imagine that everyone speaks like that in an Alaska-sized Hull.

*shiver*

100: It'll be ten pence.

F1: We are not from here. Do you accept gold doubloons?

100: Yes, I know that. How about you show me the coins?

F1: Sure.

100: Heheheh. You just made my day. You can pass.

F1: Thanks... Mister?

100: Actually, I'm a lady.

F1: Oh, sorry.

100: I'm joking. Actually, I have both.

F1: D-:,'

J: WHAT!? This needs some investigation!

Unfortunately, Guy pressed the accelerator,

so Jack did not have the time to do a sex check.

Next up.

G: Easy, easy...

They tipped over a gas light.

G: Why did you do that!?

J: Marking the territory. And I hate gas lighting.

F4: What do we do now?

G: Just look for a place where people seem to be relaxing,

and gently ask some questions.

F2: Oh, how about that cafeteria on the corner?

Z: Good idea.

Since it wasn't a drive-through, they entered the cafeteria on foot.

Its clientele was composed of mostly sun bears and a few cat geckos.

The animal, not some chimeric abomination.

The FX'es sat next to some bears who were having "brekkie".

F1: Good morning.

444: Good morning. Not to sound prejudiced, but you're not from here, are you?

F1: *Is he even speaking english?*

F3: Uh, no.

444: Figures. What brings you here to our glorious premises?

J: What is that accent!?

Z: I did not understand a word of what he said.

F1: Sorry, I do not understand.

Their commentaries are translated for my convenience.

444: "Why-did-you-come-here".

F3: Oh. It was because of... Tourism.

444: Alright. Could I talk to just one of you? It's very confusing.

F2: What?

444: Forget it. Do you have some questions about the place?

I'm more sociable than most, so ask away.

F2: Uhhh...

444: "Ask-me-anything-I-can-answer".

F1: Oh, how do we get breakfast? We already ate, but we would like to know.

444: Usually,

you would get a ticket in the morning and exchange it for a meal.

But since you're not citizens,

you would have to exchange it for gold or get an official seal.

F4: *nodding* Uh-huh.

F3: How do you you pay for goods?

444: I have a job. I get paid in vouchers for items.

F2&4&6: *nodding* Uh-huh.

F3: Who manages things in here?

444: Well, that depends on what scale you're talking about.

There's mayor Steelen, some district manager I don't know,

and our glorious imperial leader Maslow.

444: They make sure that everyone has a job, clothing, housing, food, water,

electricity, healthcare, transportation, entertainment,

heating, lighting, education, furniture, friends and family...

F1-6: *nodding synchronously*

444: You didn't understand anything of what I said, right?

J: Forget it, this is taking too long. Just stare at him while I use hypnosis.

And so they did. They also stole his daily tickets.

They kept walking until they found the local administrative building.

Near the entrance, a bear was bullying a gecko.

9323: There's a bunch of mud at the entrance

and I don't want to get my boots dirty.

Could you kindly?

5932: ...Sure.

The gecko laid on the mud and literally let the bear step over him.

F3>5932: What compels you to do such a thing?

5932: It's kind of my job,

and I don't mind, for I know that rebellion isn't the answer.

F4: Isn't that kind of degrading?

5932: I will not return violence with violence,

for I know that goodness will prevail. Gary will save us...

5932: Now, will you continue the cycle,

or will you lay your comrade a helping hand?

J: I need you to give him a helping foot, all over his back.

The very heavy foxes stepped on the gecko.

Not a comfortable massage.