I would take the Gunsealion with me on a crime-spree that would go down in legend.
We bond through this deeply and become true brothers in crime.
Having made more money than we could ever hope spend I then unexpectedly but inevitably sell out Gunsealion and take all the money for myself. Being a full supporter of the death penalty he does not protest when being judged to recieve it. Partly because he thinks I will break him out, unaware of my unforgivable betrayal. I plan a break-out with him up until the day of the execution, where I have even taken the place of a guard right there in the same room as him. But it was, as you would expect, a ruse to make sure Gunsealion would not sell me out.
I would then move to a tropical paradise and live the rest of my life in obscene luxury.
Or so I thought.
The years go by as my mind gets more and more wracked by guilt. How could I have done this? There was more than enough money for the both of us to live like kings! I'm pretty sure he probably was endangered animal as well. I mean you don't see many sealions made out of guns around. But most of all he was a friend...
I start seeing things. Silhouettes in the corner of my eye, the vaguest but instantly recognizable hints of a sealion made out of guns.
I would fall deeper and deeper into a dark pit of guilt ridden insanity.
Then at my lowest I find a receipt in my old coat inner pocket. It was from that time! I would remember that talk we had in that diner right before our biggest heist yet that was totally not a rip-off of a tarantino movie or anything and I just couldn't take it anymore.
I venture out to the most dramatic cliff I could find and plunge from into the watery grave below.
Calling out my regrets to Gunsealion as I plummet, I see it beneath me.
A whirlpool.
We bond through this deeply and become true brothers in crime.
Having made more money than we could ever hope spend I then unexpectedly but inevitably sell out Gunsealion and take all the money for myself. Being a full supporter of the death penalty he does not protest when being judged to recieve it. Partly because he thinks I will break him out, unaware of my unforgivable betrayal. I plan a break-out with him up until the day of the execution, where I have even taken the place of a guard right there in the same room as him. But it was, as you would expect, a ruse to make sure Gunsealion would not sell me out.
I would then move to a tropical paradise and live the rest of my life in obscene luxury.
Or so I thought.
The years go by as my mind gets more and more wracked by guilt. How could I have done this? There was more than enough money for the both of us to live like kings! I'm pretty sure he probably was endangered animal as well. I mean you don't see many sealions made out of guns around. But most of all he was a friend...
I start seeing things. Silhouettes in the corner of my eye, the vaguest but instantly recognizable hints of a sealion made out of guns.
I would fall deeper and deeper into a dark pit of guilt ridden insanity.
Then at my lowest I find a receipt in my old coat inner pocket. It was from that time! I would remember that talk we had in that diner right before our biggest heist yet that was totally not a rip-off of a tarantino movie or anything and I just couldn't take it anymore.
I venture out to the most dramatic cliff I could find and plunge from into the watery grave below.
Calling out my regrets to Gunsealion as I plummet, I see it beneath me.
A whirlpool.