The sun was peeking over the horizon when it was turned off. The sudden darkness startled the people out of their Sunday sleepiness, and at first, people were just confused. But, confusion gave way to fear, which turned into panic, which turned into chaos. Rioters looted, religious fanatics stirred the rising pot of anger, and the police were nowhere to be found, likely running home to their wives and kids. Lebowski, however, smiled and holstered his revolver.
Other guys at the gun range yelled in frightened voices, calling for lights and questioning what was happening. The electricity went off with the sun, it seemed. Darkness engulfed everything.
Lebowski ignored the panicking men, skipping over to his car. Lebowski idly thought whether he should be concerned standing on the precipice of the apocalypse, but, instead, he felt an extreme amount of excitement. Like a kid on Christmas morning, he was rushing home for his stash of goodies. After all, when shit is going down, the best course of action is to have a gun. Or at least that’s what his father would say.
Lebowski was revving the engine to his Porsche when a sound thundered in his ears, and a blue box appeared.
The Introduction phase is about to begin. Please make the necessary arrangements to ensure a smooth transition. Thank you.
Quickly scanning the words, Lebowski smiled. Energy flowed through him like never before, and the anticipation made him feel alive. This was real. This was happening, and Lebowski was down.
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He drove through the dark countryside and into a big city, weaving through stalled cars and frantic pedestrians like a madman. The city’s lights were out, and in the darkness, pandemonium reigned. Lebowski ignored it all. His guns, ammo, and rations were calling his name. He needed to get to his stuff before things began to hit the fan.
The Introduction will begin within a few minutes. This is your last warning. Thank you.
“Haha!” Lebowski felt his body crackling. This was truly awesome. He hopped out of his car, dashing into his mansion. His boots echoed off the checkered floor. He navigated his home expertly in the darkness. He only ran into two different walls before he decided to turn on his phone flashlight. Arriving in a small room in the corner of the mansion, Lebowski stared at his guns and smiled. His firearms were right where he left them.
“Perfect!” His laughing yell echoed. Collecting all the ammo he could into a black backpack, he took all the automatic weapons he could carry. His beloved SAR 109T hung around his shoulder. The FDP-9, his golden boy, was tied across his chest. EPC-9, his lover, snugged tightly around his thigh. His favorite, though - his Beretta Manurhin Revolvers - he held those in a gentle caress.
These were a few of Lebowski’s favorite things.
So, when a light flashed across his vision, and he found himself without his guns, he was pissed.