Serial Killer Round 70: Soviet Submarine Slaughter!
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I was drunk. And angry. Like a typical Russian.
I slammed my fist down on the table. "Shut up! Mother of Stalin, I am tired of this endless debate, back and forth, yadda yadda yadda! You sound like a bunch of babushkas! What is this 'voting' we keep doing? This is the way of the capitalist pigdogs! And I grow tired of it!"
I drunkenly stand, pointing to Frappe and Secondhand. "You two, you come with me, we settle this Russian way." Somehow I manage to find Roy in my drunken stupor, banging my head on bulkheads the entire way. "You, we play game, settle this now. Russian roulette... doubles. I grow tired of this."
Pulling up chairs, I place a handgun in the middle of the table, neglecting to note that it is in fact a semi automatic. I hold up my finger at the protests of the others. "It is how they say in Russia, zero fucks gives you...." Scrunching up my brow, thinking about that for a moment. "Anyway, we settle it this way. COMMUNIST way!"
I take a swig of vodka, and slam down the bottle. Picking up the gun, I place it to my head, Roy directly on the other side of me." I grin with crooked yellow teeth and pull the trigger.
I slammed my fist down on the table. "Shut up! Mother of Stalin, I am tired of this endless debate, back and forth, yadda yadda yadda! You sound like a bunch of babushkas! What is this 'voting' we keep doing? This is the way of the capitalist pigdogs! And I grow tired of it!"
I drunkenly stand, pointing to Frappe and Secondhand. "You two, you come with me, we settle this Russian way." Somehow I manage to find Roy in my drunken stupor, banging my head on bulkheads the entire way. "You, we play game, settle this now. Russian roulette... doubles. I grow tired of this."
Pulling up chairs, I place a handgun in the middle of the table, neglecting to note that it is in fact a semi automatic. I hold up my finger at the protests of the others. "It is how they say in Russia, zero fucks gives you...." Scrunching up my brow, thinking about that for a moment. "Anyway, we settle it this way. COMMUNIST way!"
I take a swig of vodka, and slam down the bottle. Picking up the gun, I place it to my head, Roy directly on the other side of me." I grin with crooked yellow teeth and pull the trigger.
WHEEEEE!
I had originally planned on making myself Hitlers clone with my own plans of hijacking the sub, but I decided this would be easier, and with 100% less godwin.
See, all these innocent comrades dying on the sub, I bet the American is feeling good about himself right now. Jokes on him, we'll just take the dead to the Moscow Institute of Reanimatology!
@Herp: and @Derp: I think you're confusing me with my cousin, crimson5phoenix. I'm crimson5pheonix, the devilishly handsome one.
@thirdhandghost: Aren't you just a hand-me-down?
@thirdhandghost: Aren't you just a hand-me-down?
The following is an excerpt from a now unclassified document, containing the last known communication of a spy tasked with the takeover of a USSR submarine. The communication was located via transponder crudely taped to the bottom of an empty bottle of Budweiser and written with what at first appears to be blood, but is now confirmed to be ketchup, on a MacDonald's wrapper stuffed inside the bottle.
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My dearest Came-raids, as the commie bastards would say, I send this report to you on what I now expect to be my final voyage and quite possibly in my final moments. As you may be able to tell I was able to smuggle a small few comforts of home with me onto the sub - via my stomach - which I then ejected, and re-consumed at a later date. Rest assured this small impropriety was not the reason for my death, although I did offer to share my still warm expulsions with my bunkmate in true commie bastard form. For unknown reasons he refused.
Indeed, my subterfuge was nigh undetectable, but the reds are more cunning than expected. Per our internal handbook "Your New Roommate: The Red Swine", I limited my time praying to Abraham Lincoln's beard to less than one hour a day, and even swallowed my deep desire to scream the pledge of allegiance twice a day (settling instead for once, while softly massaging the scalp of one of the unwashed red scum). Question my methods you may, but while on this ship I was able to recruit the aid of three of the slightly less filthy communist filth monger FILTH, in addition to those already sent to help me. Their names will be protected here, although they are likely dead already.
It was early that they began to suspect. Quietly polishing my life sized bald eagle statue, complete with bottle opener and Budweiser branding, I heard a noise behind me and tensed - preparing to spring into action. However, as I clenched my perineum in preparation to unleash the Balls of Fury (as indicated in "Your New Roommate: The Red Swine, Chapter 5: Self Defense Methods for Fitting in with the Red Menace") I realized with horror the depths of my failure. The fragment of Benjamin Franklin's skull I keep nestled safely in the depths of my warm, soft, grundle - Missing!
As I swung around, I saw him there. His face split into a wide gash as he grinned at me, holding the bone fragment between his bent and chipped communist teeth. "I see you are perhaps not who you say you are, calm-radd" He said (commie bastard didn't even know how to pronounce it), slowly curling his snakelike tongue around the skull chip "this bone tastes... CAPITALIST. I knew I couldn't trust you the instant I saw you laying there, nifkin exposed in non-regulation fashion" (UGH, the BASTARD didn't even know it's only a nifkin when it's a girl!) I was able to throw suspicion away from myself and avoid death this one time by pushing blame back on to him - How would a communist know how a capitalist should taste, without sampling forbidden fruits! - But even with the death of Gritch, I knew my days were numbered.
I can see the end coming now, as I nurse my bottle of Bud, as that crazy drunken commie Jux stumbles down the rows of bunks, banging his head off of everything in site and waving his gun about screaming about babushkas (I don't speak Spanish, so I can't translate this for you). He is demanding to know where I am, flanked by two other commies I never bothered to learn the names of. Goodbye my friends, and tell my wife America that I love her.
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The message ends there. A note is made in the debrief document to the general Admiralty that spies will no longer be selected based on SAT scores, nationalism, and coloring book abilities.
[HEADING=1]CONTRACT COMPLETE - KILLER IS DEAD[/HEADING]
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My dearest Came-raids, as the commie bastards would say, I send this report to you on what I now expect to be my final voyage and quite possibly in my final moments. As you may be able to tell I was able to smuggle a small few comforts of home with me onto the sub - via my stomach - which I then ejected, and re-consumed at a later date. Rest assured this small impropriety was not the reason for my death, although I did offer to share my still warm expulsions with my bunkmate in true commie bastard form. For unknown reasons he refused.
Indeed, my subterfuge was nigh undetectable, but the reds are more cunning than expected. Per our internal handbook "Your New Roommate: The Red Swine", I limited my time praying to Abraham Lincoln's beard to less than one hour a day, and even swallowed my deep desire to scream the pledge of allegiance twice a day (settling instead for once, while softly massaging the scalp of one of the unwashed red scum). Question my methods you may, but while on this ship I was able to recruit the aid of three of the slightly less filthy communist filth monger FILTH, in addition to those already sent to help me. Their names will be protected here, although they are likely dead already.
It was early that they began to suspect. Quietly polishing my life sized bald eagle statue, complete with bottle opener and Budweiser branding, I heard a noise behind me and tensed - preparing to spring into action. However, as I clenched my perineum in preparation to unleash the Balls of Fury (as indicated in "Your New Roommate: The Red Swine, Chapter 5: Self Defense Methods for Fitting in with the Red Menace") I realized with horror the depths of my failure. The fragment of Benjamin Franklin's skull I keep nestled safely in the depths of my warm, soft, grundle - Missing!
As I swung around, I saw him there. His face split into a wide gash as he grinned at me, holding the bone fragment between his bent and chipped communist teeth. "I see you are perhaps not who you say you are, calm-radd" He said (commie bastard didn't even know how to pronounce it), slowly curling his snakelike tongue around the skull chip "this bone tastes... CAPITALIST. I knew I couldn't trust you the instant I saw you laying there, nifkin exposed in non-regulation fashion" (UGH, the BASTARD didn't even know it's only a nifkin when it's a girl!) I was able to throw suspicion away from myself and avoid death this one time by pushing blame back on to him - How would a communist know how a capitalist should taste, without sampling forbidden fruits! - But even with the death of Gritch, I knew my days were numbered.
I can see the end coming now, as I nurse my bottle of Bud, as that crazy drunken commie Jux stumbles down the rows of bunks, banging his head off of everything in site and waving his gun about screaming about babushkas (I don't speak Spanish, so I can't translate this for you). He is demanding to know where I am, flanked by two other commies I never bothered to learn the names of. Goodbye my friends, and tell my wife America that I love her.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The message ends there. A note is made in the debrief document to the general Admiralty that spies will no longer be selected based on SAT scores, nationalism, and coloring book abilities.
[HEADING=1]CONTRACT COMPLETE - KILLER IS DEAD[/HEADING]
He did it to resolve the issue you had become. If me and others hadn't kept pointing fingers at you I think he'd have passed you over. But can't avoid that Jux deserves an equal share of the credit because we're communists and share such things equally. (Yeah he deserves most of the credit there XD)EvilRoy said:
Bahahaha, that was good. Good indeed. But pleasepleaseplease tell us who the traitors were. You don't even need to say what role they had, considering two of the three would have been the lawyer and the doppelganger.
pleeeeaase, I promise not to vote for you next round.
pleeeeaase, I promise not to vote for you next round.
I had actually started to get suspicious of you because you were so ready to move on to the next target after Roy. Thankfully not needed!Dying_Jester said:
