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#1 Posted by Thief (43 posts) - - Show Bio

It was nearly noon, but the cloud cover from the storm made the time indistinguishable. Weather warnings decorated every screen throughout the city. Though with the holidays close, families had no choice but to brave the storms. Thus, the roads leading into the district were littered with hours of delays and traffic. Despite the chaos of the holiday season throughout the city, one street seemed completely devoid of traffic, the snow piled a few inches high along the roads and walkways.

At a downtown apartment complex on this very street a small delivery drone carrying a nondescript cardboard box under it's body weathered the winter storm. With delivery guaranteed, failure was not an option for the droid, and though it's rotors bordered on freezing over anytime now, it had just reached it's delivery point. With only a low hum of it's motor, the drone elevated up the height of the fire escape on the side of the building, before finally stopping in front of a window littered with cracks and a black curtain drawn on the other side.

The petite drone gave a series of shrill cries to signify it's successful delivery, the bot lowering itself down near the windowsill as it began to release the secure pincers clutching the edges of the box. However before it had released the package a gloved hand seized the box underneath of it, yanking the package unceremoniously from it's metallic grip. Almost immediately the drone's shrill cries became a sort of robotic scream while the thief threw the machine onto the cold metal of the fire escape, immediately the thief, donning a large rubber chicken mask, pulled his foot upwards before stomping it down ruthlessly onto the screaming drone.

Unfortunately for the would-be thief, The howling storm had stopped being the loudest thing on the block, the sound of the mechanical struggle echoed from one end of the street to the other. Let alone the owner of the package just a glass pane away from the ongoing robotic robbery.

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#2 Edited by Backstabber (6706 posts) - - Show Bio


The place was a mess, a small two room apartment littered with discarded pizza boxes, and the roaches that crawled over them. For Jason it was a typical Monday, or Tuesday, or whatever the hell day it was as he began his day by scratching his ass. Slowly, almost zombie like, he shuffled his way to the couch while letting out the loudest and longest burp in history. With a resounding ‘Plop” he settles down on his couch, rustling up a ton of dust, only to spend a minute or two in search for his remote control. Then with but a push of a button his out of date VCR player began screening old time girl on girl porn, involving something with two Asian girls and a cup. The fact it was close to Christmas meant nothing to him, other than the possibility of several disgruntled women putting out a hit on their cheating boyfriends. But for now it was his personal pleasure time, and with a handful of tissues and lotion, he sat back ready to kill an hour or two.

Suddenly, he heard the sounds of rotary blades spinning out side his window, on the other side of his closed black curtain shades. In his own deranged, but over developed self gratifying fantasy world, he recognized the sounds as a hoard of SWAT Choppers closing in for the kill. “Oh Crap!” he shrieked in a girly tone, “They finally found me!” In a state of panic he ran to the bed room, knocking over a lamp or two, hoping to sneak out the back window. In his rush he dawned his trade mark red Backstabber suit, along with his trusty 9mm, just in case he had to fight his way out of this! Trying to hide his genuine fear of going to prison, in his haste to leave, he unfortunately managed to break the window rather than open it, shattering glass across his already disheveled bed room floor. But just as he was about to squeeze his red clad leather butt through a tiny window, the sounds outside came to an abrupt halt. The rotary sounds were now that of smashing metal and crushing steel. It was at that point, as Jason stood frozen in fear, looking outside his bed room window, he could see no signs of flashing blue lights or repelling federal agents, but instead saw a shadowy figure up top along the fire escape. With a firm grip on his rusty 9mm, and no moral code, he thought to himself, “Whoever or whatever it is out there,......is Dead!

Wasting no more time, he begins squeezing his manly frame through a tiny window, with a shard of glass cutting right between his two butt-cheeks. The more he wiggled the deeper it cut, splitting his costume open wide, and in the process widening his crack by an inch. Already he was moved to tears crying with every second of agonizing pain, until he managed to make it to the other side. With great joy he fell butt first into his backyard, landing upon the cooling ice that quickly soothed his aching pain. Seconds later he was still letting out soft but subtle, “Oooohhs” as his advanced healing factors kicked in, and despite the fact his bottom was as good as new, there was still a one inch slash down the back of his drawers. But by now his full attention was on the stranger outside, and with an almost impressive display, jumps back to his feet. Ignoring the reddened snow behind him he looks up just in time to see a full grown man wearing a chicken mask, still resting above on the fire escape, next to a broken drone still on fire. On any other day, Jason would have open fired, putting at least four rounds between the strangers eyes, plus one more in his back for fun. But there was something unique about him, something that struck a cord in him, that he need to address before killing him!

With no idea how foolish he looked, the first question Jason asked was, “Are you one of those perverts with a Bird fetish thing going on!” He then slicks back his already greasy hair, “I’ve tried it a few time but the beak kept getting in my way. What you need to do is look up Madam Poker down the street and she’ll help you with....” Suddenly he comes to an abrupt halt, as he reads the label taped to the package’s side, clearly addressed to him. Fueled with rage, over taking what was his, he shouts out loud for all to hear, “Yo Jerk-Face, that belongs to me! I mean Mr. Jason Reed, whom I have no knowledge of, or relationship with what so ever!!” Wasting no time he raises his 9mm, hoping to look intimidating. After a quick, “Your as good as dead!” he fires of two shots in seconds. But as he was still somewhat curious as to who or what was behind the chicken mask, once again he did not shoot to kill. Instead his two shots whistled through the night, hitting the bolts that firmly held the fire escape to the apartment buildings side. In doing so, the metal railing began to squeak and crack as it’s massive frame came crumbling down. And although it was only a few stories up, Jason was counting on the fall to temporally stun his adversary long enough to get some answers. Unfortunately as the railings fell down, so did a layer of snow, that came down crashing upon him like a glacier. And as Jason was caught below, two weeks of built up snow came falling down, turning him into a living snow man, `with his gun still aiming upwards and one pissed off look on his face!!

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#3 Edited by Thief (43 posts) - - Show Bio

The God of Thievery stood dumbfounded, his foot halfway bashed into the body of the flaming drone while the emotionless eyes of the chicken mask stared at the clearly enraged man dressed in footie pajamas. While the smelly man shouted what was probably obscenities, one thing seemed to stick out on this man. That handgun. So shiny, was that chrome plating? There seemed to be some chip crumbs jammed under the slide of the firearm, but those could be easily removed! A little spit shine and it'd certainly be a welcome addition to the collection! Upon closer inspection of the grubby figure, the pair of footie pajamas that he sported actually looked like leather! Maybe real leather! It'd be a bit of a large fit but certainly they'd be a nice compliment with the red plume of the chicken head. It was then that the man paused the one-sided conversation, gazing at the package in the rooster's hands.

While Cluck's eyes were set on the man's goggles, he started shouted a lot louder about whatever it was he was asking. Best of all he started waving around the shiny gun! It was especially fun to look at when it moved! The way the metal tinted white with the reflection of snow and just imagining how the cold steel felt to hold, oh what a feeling! Unfortunately, this pleasant observation was cut short as the ramblings of the man audibly became much more blunt, and just a moment after fired off the weapon, successfully regaining the Thief God's attention. Visibly snapping out of his haze, Cluck stumbled to the side as the fire escape shifted violently as it's railings broke off. With his foot still very much planted in the body of the bot, he immediately lost balance, slipping off of the ice shrouded metal of the fire escape and plummeting down the side of the building.

With the stolen package clutched firmly to his chest, the rooster landed on his back into the inches of snow below. With a loud wheeze coming from the voice-box of the mask he simply laid still on the ground, making sure his back wasn't broken and his the package wasn't damaged in the fall. Cluck's blurry sight tried to catch sight of the man. Unfortunately in his state, he couldn't make out much more than a rough interpretation of the face of a very displeased man.

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#4 Posted by Backstabber (6706 posts) - - Show Bio


Jason was literally freezing his nuts off. Covered head to toe in a layer of snow, he shivered as his gun hand shook side to side. His breath was a fog of ice and his teeth continued to chatter. In a frustrated manner he shook off the cold, knocking the layers of snow from his body, to fall down on his frozen feet. The worst part was with a one inch slash down the back of his pants, the snow crept in and settled around his rear end. The more he shook the colder it got and despite his best shaking moves the snow dug in deeper. Lucky for him, the massive quantities of “Uncle Joe’s Tonic Hair Jell” that he applied to his head, every thirty or so minutes, kept his hair slicked back to the point the snow falling off it fell quicker and with a certain smell. But as he shook off the last remaining clumps of snow from his boots he looked up just in time to see the stranger fall to the ground. It was clear from the way the thief was falling that his main concern was to protect the packaged, as he held it tight to his chest while falling down upon his back. It was because of this, when the stranger hit the snow, he hit hard, rustling up a cloud of snow around him that only magnified the force of the impact. But all Jason could see was a wave of white snow fluttering through the air, making him think to himself, “I really need to score some more coke!

Assuming that the thief was now knocked out, or at least unable to fight, Jason relished in the moment. As far as he knew, he had won the battle so as he approached the fallen stranger, he made it a point to strut all the way over and despite having a load of snow in his britches, he somehow managed to mess even that up. Eventually he made his way over, accompanied with several “That’s right, I’m bad!” until he placed himself standing over the thief, with a false sense of confidence. Ignoring the package again, his main desire was to learn the identity of the stranger and perhaps gloat to him face to face. But to do that he need to remove the freaken mask, a mask that made him feel intimidated looking into that soulless, mocking, expression. Slowly almost surgically, he leaned in close, with his gun leading the way, as he attempts to slide his 9mm under the exposed area of the mask along the strangers neck line. If lucky enough to make it this far, he would then try to remove the haunting mask by pulling it over and off the face, by yanking it with his gun. But whether he makes it this far or not , he would definitely gloat at some point or another, “Lets see who this freaken Chick-fil-A is!?!?

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#5 Posted by Thief (43 posts) - - Show Bio

His grip tightened around the cardboard frame of the package as it's proper owner approached with the shiny gun, still shouting whatever he was on about. For the briefest of moments the rooster prepared to spring to his feet and rip that shiny chunk of metal right out of his hands if not for the threat of accidentally dropping it, maybe even scratching it! Cluck laid idle on the ground, blinking idly behind the rubber of the mask while the stark barrel of the gun leaned towards his face. The cold metal of the sidearm dragged uncomfortably along his neckline, the chicken's emotionless stare not leaving the man as the gun traced over his bare skin. Despite the man's obvious threats to unmask him, the Thief God had no intention of being unmasked, period. And certainly not by the man that smelled of pepperoni and stale beer. Just as one of the rooster's gloved hands left the package a shout came from the edge of the alleyway.


A uniformed police officer stood at the sidewalk, his sidearm drawn and quivering from the chilling temperature of the city. Cluck's head leaned back from the firearm at his neck and turned away from the officer, rather quickly considering his current situation. The officer's trained but trembling hands didn't take the barrel off the figure in the tight suit, even as he took a cautious step between the grim walls of the alleyway."I'M NOT GOING TO ASK YOU AGAIN! DROP IT!"

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#6 Posted by Backstabber (6706 posts) - - Show Bio


Jason was seconds away from unmasking the thief, thus proving he was the better man, and was even sporting an erection for that fact. He was standing over the thief, he held the gun, and for all he knew the thief was knocked out cold. The only thing that could make this moment better, was if three plus sized women were dancing around naked. Oddly enough he had forgotten about the package, his only concern was to discover the identity of the stranger, then burn and bury that disturbing mask! When suddenly he heard the sound of rustling behind him followed with a resounding, "HANDS IN THE AIR!" Immediately, he spun around in time to catch a fresh face police officer, staring him down with his gun locked, loaded and aiming straight at him. Again the officer shouted, "I'M NOT GOING TO ASK YOU AGAIN! DROP IT!" as he carefully watched Jason, and the gun in his hand. It was at this point Jason lost track of the thief, and any action he may be taking, and instead addressed the cop. Slowly stepping away from the thief, he approached the officer with his hands in the air, and began the incessant babbling. “Whoa whoa whoa, it’s not what you think.” he steps closer, “I was simply..” he grunts, “..Awe Freak It!!!!!!!

With a total lack of regard to the police and all forms of law enforcement, Jason didn’t want to waste the time talking to the pig and instead fell back on simple, cold, brutal, violence. With his gun still in hand he twirled it around his finger, just as the officer shouted, “Don’t be stupid!” But just as Jason’s gun was aiming forward, he proudly pulled the trigger firing one shot, that was so brilliantly aimed that it hit the cop right between the eyes. Before anyone knew it the officers brains shot out the back of his head, and his lifeless body fell down to the ground. Feeling cocky Jason sniffed the smoke from the barrel of his 9mm then proceeded to steal from the corpse like it was Christmas! Within seconds Jason stole the man’s gun, ammo, badge and wallet, while telling himself, “Oh yeah I deserve this. Cause bullets, ain’t cheap!” then proceeded to steal his handcuffs, for later with Madam Poker! But just as he was thinking about Madam Poker and choking his chicken, he remembered the guy with the Chicken Head behind him! Still going on the assumption the thief was incapacitated, he slowly began making his way back to him.

Holstering his 9mm, he began checking to see if the officers police issued revolver was still loaded, and felt like a bad @ss flickering the barrel back into the gun. Then as he tried his best way to sound threatening, he mocked at the thief, “Play time is over Mr. Chicken, I’m about to...” he struggles trying to find the right word, “...um... I Got it, Deep fry you!!!” He then cocks back the hammer, ‘Cause I’m Gonna Kill You Now!” Suddenly from behind him two loud "Bangs” break the night as two other bullets tear through his flesh. All Jason could do was let out a girlish scream as blood pours out from his chest, then falls face first into the snow. For standing behind him was the officers partner, taking a defensive stance with his revolver in hand and a bad @ss look on his face. “Officer down, Shots fired!” he yelled into his radio as he knelt over his partners body trying to help him. In the mean time Jason’s wounds had healed as he coughed up the last traces of blood from his lungs, while thinking to himself how embarrassing it was for the legendary Backstabber to get shot in the back. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t want to start a shoot out, next to the place he lives, for the last thing he would want is his room as a crime scene with cops walking all through it. So for now he laid face down in the snow, freezing his nuts off and doing his best not to give away the fact he was still alive!

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#7 Posted by Thief (43 posts) - - Show Bio

A lot had just happened. Two homicides already! And a cop at that! Not the cleanest robbery of the season, but so far everything was coming up Cluck! With a package still in his custody and the man in the pajamas dead, all that was left to do was walk away.

But like most dead cops, more cops showed up after, evident by the sound of sirens now echoing from just blocks away. As much as sneaking away (with the shiny gun in hand) would be preferred, time was not on the rooster's side in this case. Taking a shallow breath, he slowly picked himself up from the inches of snow, dusting himself off promptly. Upon seeing this, the partner of the deceased officer stood, immediately drawing his service pistol at the sight of the mask then shouting to the thief. "TAKE THE MASK OFF! SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!"The officer thumbed the handgun's safety off, unlike his partner, the officer's hands were not quivering in the slightest at the moment. It was clear to any bystander of the situation that this officer was going to take whatever means necessary to bring this messy situation to a halt. It was especially clear to the man in the chicken mask, staring down the barrel of the firearm.

It cannot be stated enough that running was the preferred method of getting out of this situation, but the rooster didn't always do well under stress. Especially when that stress involves guns pointed at him over one small take. Extra especially during the holiday season. From that moment on the thief's body moved almost entirely off of muscle memory. The only movement Cluck had given after the demands was a flick of the wrist, the gun disappearing out the intensity of the officer's grip and appearing into the Chicken-Man's hand. It was only then that the officer's hands trembled, watching as he rotated the revolver in his hand, clutching it by the barrel.

The last resort for the officer was his taser, but just as he reached for it on his belt Cluck charged forwards, springing off of the head of the pajama-clad man and lunging onto the officer. With surprising brutality, the chicken had battered the officer with his sidearm until after just a minute the flashing red and blue lights of a police SUV sharply turned onto the street. Despite being bloodied, the thief still had a clue of when it was time to go. Picking up the slightly bent and bloodied package he scrambled to his feet, tossing the weapon into the snow and promptly spinning around, sprinting down the opposite end of the alley. Yet he skidded to a halt.

Cluck's head turned back, eyeing up the smelly man in the snow. After a brief moment of exchanging glances between him and the entrance of the alley where two officers still lay he had made a mental decision, quickly changing his direction and running back over, dropping to his knees next to him, immediately beginning a thorough pat-down on the red jumpsuit, something that was most likely uncomfortable for the both of them.

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#8 Posted by Backstabber (6706 posts) - - Show Bio


It was perhaps the dumbest idea in history, but it was the one Backstabber was going with. With his face buried in the snow, and his butt high up in the air, he honestly believed that if he could not see the police, they could not see him. Hell if it worked for ostriches it could work for him. Therefore, as he heard the sounds of sirens in the distance he kept his head down. As he heard the officer yell,"TAKE THE MASK OFF! SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!" he kept his head down. Even as he felt a large force step on his head, he kept his head down, although he did shed a tear as his slicked back hair was messed up. But despite his best urges to reapply another layer of ‘Uncle Joe’s Tonic Hair Jell’ he continued to keep his head down. By now his face was ice blue, as the only thing saving his face from frost bite was his advanced healing factor, but even that couldn’t stop his need to sneeze. But as he heard the sound of struggle nearby followed by foot steps running away, in his own deluded world, he thought to himself,’Two more minutes of this, and it should all be over.’ despite the ever increasing sounds of police sirens in the distance. But suddenly, everything changed, as he heard the sound of foot steps approach followed by the abrasive touch of another individual.

Immediately, Jason thought to himself, “Dear God please don’t let it be a police dog, they bite!” as the hands moved up and down his waistline. Again Jason kept his head down, hoping this would all go away, but by now the hands had moved in closer to his thighs. Then in one life time scarring moment, one of the hand grabbed tight of his enormous, engorged, larger than life, penis, at which point he jumped up five feet in the air. In a loud girlish scream he shouts, “NO! You never touch a guy there!”Realizing now that it was the thief in the Chicken mask he was talking to, he continues with his homophobic rant. “Damn it man, I don’t care what you were thinking about, You never touch another mans mambo. I mean Christ sake’s what are you a Pinko? Is that it? Are you some sicko who wears a Chicken mask an gropes men? Well that’s just sick!!!!” Still holding on to his own private part for fear someone else might grab it, he continues to prance around in the snow enraged. “How the Hell would you like it If a guy grabbed yours? You Freaken Jerk Face Freak!!!

Finally he began to calm down, completely ignoring whatever the thief was doing and proceed to reach for his gun. For despite whatever the thief was doing, Jason was ready to kill him in cold blood, then rob his body for whatever he could grab. Unfortunately for him, as he was just about ready to put his plans into motion, the hallway came to life with blue lights flashing everywhere. Within seconds a small squad of police officers swarmed in, with their guns at the ready and barking orders. “Every one on the floor with your hands locked behind your head! NOW!” By now Jason was shivering, and not from the cold, but because he feared the thought of going to prison. To him there was only one way out, and with a loud authoritative voice he points at the thief and says, “It’s all his fault!!” But as the cops began moving in for a tactical advantage, he knew his plan was not going to work. In one last Hell Mary moment, he turned his gun on the officers and with one perfectly aimed shot, sent one bullet past the police and straight to the gas tank of the nearest squad car.

In one brilliant explosion, the car went up in a fireball, that spread out to the other cars setting them on fire! Soon the others followed, sending a wave of fire and shrapnel out that soon engulfed the apartment building. The whole place was now a firestorm as cops and tenants were running around on fire, as black smoke filled the air. Everywhere people were screaming in pain, but not as loud as Jason as he watched in horror as the last of his room was burning to the ground. In a truly pathetic tone he whined, “Noooooooooo!!My porn, my money, my drugs” he sobs even louder, “my PORN!” as he drops to his knees crying. “Every thing I ever stole was in there!!!” It was then he remembered the package addressed to him still residing in the thief's hand, and with pure rage turned his full attention towards him. Unfortunately for him, the place was now covered in a thick fog of smoke, cutting visibility down to zero. In one frustrated act of vengeance, he shot off the last four rounds from his 9mm in hopes of hitting him. In the mean time he thought to himself, “Well at least I ain’t got to pay rent this month.” which lead to him thinking, “....STILL....WINNING!....

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#9 Posted by Thief (43 posts) - - Show Bio


Despite the emotionless stare that a rubber chicken mask usually presented it's viewers, a certain degree of shame was visible on Cluck as he stuffed one of his hands into his pockets, his head retracting down slightly behind the collar of his jacket. The lecture was certainly quite loud. And harsh. Although, his accusations did have some backing to them, guns aren't usually soft. Or attached to people. Whoops.

Cluck's pair of bright red sneakers lazily kicked the snow across the ground as his head hung low with embarrassment. His fingers fidgeted with the box uncomfortably while he just kept his vision low. “How the Hell would you like it If a guy grabbed yours? You Freaken Jerk Face Freak!!!” Cluck flinched at the final insult, expecting a barrage of them to come, but instead being greeted with an odd silence from the usually loud man. He watched the man's feet shift rather suddenly, before even looking up completely another voice interrupted from the entrance of the alley. “Every one on the floor with your hands locked behind your head! NOW!” His vision turned to the new officers, it seemed to be getting tedious at this point with the amount of officers in the alley. One thing never got old though, the shiny revolvers all the cops brought! Whoever was supplying those for the law enforcement must be doing some serious cleaning on those to get them like that! They're like mirrors! Cluck's blank eyes stared down the officers as the man beside him yelled something again, whatever it was only seemed to increase the aggressiveness of the police, as they only moved closer.

No matter what their intent was it probably wasn't good, and now probably wasn't the time to get distracted. With a quick movement the thief's hands tightened on the flimsy cardboard package and his other gloved hand jolted at his side, suddenly gripping a fistful of bullets, the chambers of the revolvers empty. The problem was solved and now all that was left was to kick names and take butt.

At least that was the plan until the sudden sound of gunfire rang out across the alley. Time seemed to slow all the thief as he looked over to the source of the disruption. The smelly man and his shiny gun. With some degree of insanity he had actually decided to shoot at the police outnumbering them, he would have only been able to maybe take out one before they were both shot dead! Luckily enough their bullets were gone, and there was little to do now but watch their expressions when they realized they'd been robbed blind.

The only expression worth seeing was Cluck's own once that bullet completely grazed by an officer's head, instead blasting right past him and hitting the gas tank on a squad car. The explosion shook the block, Cluck dropping the bullets instinctively to watch as the explosion created a chain reaction, obliterating each car nearby until even the buildings nearby were catching aflame. Giving a quick glance to the man groveling on the ground as he screamed out at his burning apartment complex only one thought repeated itself in Cluck's mind.

God, this guy is cool.

But he definitely wasn't getting the package back.

With smoke filling the alleyway, it was the ideal moment to make a break for it before any more police showed up. Turning on his heels in the snow he took off down the alleyway. He hadn't got further than halfway down the alley before four shots rang out in his direction. Despite the unfolding chaos, the cool man that burned down his own building still seemed to want the package, even willing to kill for it probably. For something so important to him, the package felt light. Whatever it was had to be valuable, giving him all the more reason to hold onto it even in this case.

His feet left the ground midway through his sprint, his body corkscrewing in the air as he spun backwards. The shiny bullets were coming right for his central mass. How exciting! Shiny bullets like those would look great in his organs, but it'd also probably kill him. Just as the bullets nearly struck his stomach they disappeared from the air. They were even shinier up close, but also pointier and deadlier. Landing back on his feet, the rooster flung the bullets over his shoulder, continuing his sprint to the end of the alleyway. Unfortunately leaving a clear trail of footprints in the freshly laid snow, all the way out onto the sidewalk on the other side of the alley.

Just as he hung a right on the concrete the thief laid eyes upon yet another arriving police vehicle. It's siren blaring at him as it suddenly turned towards the chicken and began to drive onto the walkway to block his path. Cluck obviously turned himself around, instead choosing to sprint the opposite way on the sidewalk as fast as his scrawny legs could carry his equally scrawny body.

Unfortunately for both the Chicken-Man, and the legendary Backstabber, blowing up buildings was vaguely considered terrorism. And every officer on duty and off-duty in the city had begun to converge onto the both of them, with the intent to shoot to kill.

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#10 Posted by Backstabber (6706 posts) - - Show Bio


No Caption Provided

Jason dropped to his knees, sobbing like a little girl. With a four alarm fire burning down his home right before his very eyes, he could not stop crying. Ten years of hording every porn magazine sold on the black market, mixed with autographed issues of “Plus Sized Babes” was now turned to ash. Even the few hundred dollars he had managed to scrounge together, as well as his box of lucky knives, all burned to the ground, and there was nothing he could do about it. Instead he lay there, crying so hard that it soaked through his goggles and dripped down his chest, and despite everyone nearby was screaming at the top of their lungs, Jason screamed louder than them all. “Nooooooo” he yelled over and over, followed by several, “How could this happen to ME?” as he went on yelling about all the things he lost, and despite the thick layer of black smoke in the area, it never once stifled his outlandish cries. But as he had already forgotten about the Thief, the package and the cops closing in on him, he continued having his itty bitty pity party. Then, by some outlandish twist of fate, a small piece of paper, no bigger than a playing card, flew from out of the ashes of his porn, and landed safely in his hand. Burned around the edges and layered in black soot, the image on it was impossible to read, but in Jason’s warped little mind he saw it as the image of a woman’s breast, and became aroused. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” he boasted, until upon closer inspection, he saw it as a man’s elbow. But with no time to waste, he shoved the card in his back pocket and declared, “I’ll look at tit, I mean IT later!

By now the place was swarming, with the police and firemen, as well as reporters from every news channel in the area, and because of it, Jason was as good as caught. For except for the man on the third floor who likes to dress as a bear and get covered in honey, Jason was the only guy running around in a costume. That plus the fact his description had been given over the radio several times by the police, sealed his fate. But in true Backstabber fashion, he thought of himself first and his unparalleled ego, and as such he needed to find a way out of this as a winner. It was then he remembered the Thief and the package addressed to him, and went berserk! “OH!!” he yelled as he clinched his fist, “I’m gonna kill that Chicken with my bare hands when I get him!” He slicks back his already greasy hair, “Cause No one, I repeat No one steals from the....” It was at this point the smoke in the air finally got to him, as he fell to the ground coughing up a fit. But as his advance healing factor kicked in, he slammed his fist in to the snow yelling, “Time for some payback, Backstabber style!” Now fueled with a new rage, he set out for revenge, but with only one problem, he had no idea how to find him. For the last time he saw the Thief, he was running off through a trail of dark smoke. It was then he came up with a fool proof way to catch him, one that could not possibly fail, and with great pride he yells out, “Yo, Chicken Head where are You?

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As usual his plan failed horribly, and only managed to make things worse, as his yells only attracted attention. But by shear dumb luck, as his face was down in the snow, he found the still fresh footprints of the Thief‘s, left behind in the snow. Better yet it clearly showed his escape route. Once again feeling superior, he turned his head in that direction and with a shirt eating grin on his face he ran off after him. Unfortunately for him, as the trail lead off down the street, it lead straight through a path of reporters and police, all eager to put his sweet butt in prison for life. But as his ego out weighed his sense of reason, nothing was going to stop him from reclaiming....HIS PACKAGE! Without a second thought he ran forward, right through the crowd at a top speed. With every step he increased his pace by altering the force from the trajectory of his boot with the ground, and despite the fact he was running on snow, it seemed to work. By now he was half way through, with reporters asking questions like “Who the hell is that?” as the Police recognized him from their description. Immediately they yelled, “Freeze! Drop to the floor or we open fire!” after a few of them fired off a warning shot just to intimidate him. But as Backstabber was determined to win his package back, he ignored the cries and simply yelled back, “No time to talk!! I got to go choke a Chicken!!” But what he did not know was that dozens of news cameras were filming him live, and that his comments were on every news channel in the state, plus an image of his bare backside peaking out the back of his split leather pants.

With the police hot on his trail, he continued to run, hoping and praying that the cops were out of shape. But as he was running over a mile a minute, the police could not keep up and instead fell back in order to get their squad cars and call in for police choppers. Despite the fact it only gave him a few extra minutes, Jason put those minutes to good use. Running off adrenaline, as well as the aid from his mutant gene, he followed the trail relentlessly. Then by some, dumb luck of fate, he found the Thief down the street, resting along side a dumpster, in an abandoned alley, looking down upon shiny things in the palm of his hands. With great, overwhelming, joy, he raises his gun at the thief, as he squints behind his goggles like Clint Eastwood. Feeling as if he had the drop on the Thief, he begins boasting, “Okay you Chicken Head thief! You better hand over the package now or you’ll be one dead chicken. And don’t try to play any games like ‘Chicken’ you chicken, cause you’ll lose the game like a chicken because your a....well....a Chicken!”all in the hopes of sounding intimidating. But the fact was his gun was empty and he was completely bluffing, still he held it like a pro, with the hammer cocked back. He had less than seconds before the police would arrive in numbers, but at this point he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him was reclaiming his package, no matter what was inside the darn thing!!

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#11 Posted by Thief (43 posts) - - Show Bio


Who would have thought you could find so many shiny things in a dumpster!?

Cluck's hands tenderly picked through his armful of stray garbage, tossing way scraps of deteriorating food and stray from his collection of especially shiny paper clips and thumb tacks. Each shiny object he found in his ball of garbage was lifted to one of the eyes of the mask and inspected with almost a childlike curiosity. Despite the wailing of sirens for blocks around, the chicken's attention was solely focused on the items he had obtained.

Holiday traffic throughout the city had come to an absolute standstill as roadblocks were in preparation of being set up around the area. Entire SWAT units were arriving to the scene of the explosion, as others waited anxiously for signs of another detonation. Though, overall this had been an alright haul! Of course the entirety of law enforcement in the city was out for blood, and there was a decently sized body count, and they were probably going to be put on a no-fly list for the demolition of an apartment complex. But the escape was halfway over with! Best of all, there was still that wonderful little mystery package to open with all these bonus goodies! Things couldn't have been going better for an amateur robbery! At least, they were going fine until he showed up.

Okay you Chicken Head thief! You better hand over the package now or you’ll be one dead chicken-" This was definitely not part of the plan. Getting found hiding behind a dumpster by the police, maybe expected. But this guy? His determination only made that package so much more valuable! But he had that shiny piece of weaponry still! Something Cluck definitely planned on stealing before they parted ways. But how to go about it? He definitely didn't want to get beat up. "-cause you’ll lose the game like a chicken because your a....well....a Chicken!

The mask's emotionless stare gazed up at the man in silence for the briefest of moments after he had finished speaking. After dropping his office supplies onto the soggy cardboard package by his side Cluck's hands raised innocently by his head, at last after the entire hour of bedlam, he spoke. Surprisingly with the voice of what could only be a twelve-year old. "Hey! Hey! No need to be pointing that thing at me! I know I *technically* stole from you, but I swear on my mothers, I never knew it was YOUR package!"He lowered his hands comfortably, resting one of them on the top of the package at his side almost protectively. Just as he had done this, the sound of the once faraway sirens had come eerily close. As the rooster glanced over to the mouth of the alleyway, two SWAT vans had arrived with a small horde of police cars blocking the exit of the alleyway. He gave a loud gasp, looking back towards him just as the doors of the vans swung open, the units inside just a moment from piling out. "If anything, you and me should TEAM UP AND KILL THESE GUYS! I kind of lead to your home or something being obliterated and stuff, but who's the REAL oppressor here!? A-And I'll even give you your package back after, deal!?"

He would have batted his eyelashes if he could. It was a long shot and actually a straight up lie. That package probably was way too valuable to give to this weirdo in a questionable leather outfit. But teaming up with the weirdo in the questionable outfit was definitely going to help with getting out of this city alive. And if luck was his side, with the package intact, and the man dead...or maybe just lost or something! Something not that violent, he didn't seem that bad after all!

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#12 Posted by Backstabber (6706 posts) - - Show Bio


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Slowly Jason began to feel empowered again. Despite the fact he was bluffing with an empty gun, his smack talk made him feel stronger. His gun hand didn’t shake, nor did sweat drip from his brow, and despite the fact his words were utter garbage, he held his head up high. Ending with a loud, "-cause you’ll lose thegame like a chicken becauseyour a....well....a Chicken!” he felt he nailed it, but would later regret he did not make a ‘Drop the Mike’ motion at the time. In his head, the only thing missing would be a line of overweight women dancing around him naked. Either way he was sporting an erection twice the size of his shiny 9mm that he held tilted to a side in a hip kind of gangster way. In the end he was so wrapped up in his own ego that he had forgotten everything else and focused on the words. With his free hand he slicked back his already greasy hair, as he cleared his throat in preparation for his next verbal assault, but in true Backstabber manner he could not think of anything better than, “And if you don’t hand over my package, you chicken, I’ll go Colonel Sanders on your a$$!” But just as that came to mind, he realized that was a truly clever quip, and was seconds away from shouting it out, when he was cut short by the Thief’s, untimely and unexpected, response.

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In utter dismay, Jason was befuddled as the Thief spoke, apologizing for his action, as he so elegantly put it, “I know I *technically* stole from you, but I swear on my mothers, I never knew it was YOUR package!” Immediately, Jason was struck in his biggest target, his ego, and as such he had to.....agree! With an overly cocky attitude he lowered his gun, as he looked up to the stars in contemplation, and with a truly shirt eating grin, he replied. “Well of course you wouldn’t. I mean, I’m the one and only Backstabber, the most awesomeness, bad a$$, number one, assassin alive to day.” Slowly he begins to approach the Thief with his head still in the clouds, “I mean nobody, and I do mean nobody would dare steal something from me!” Once again he was oblivious to everything but his ego, as he goes into great detail of why he is so awesomeness, listing off facts he had seen in action films, that he naturally assumed he did as well. After several minutes of his self adoration, he finally comes to the conclusion, “And I just burned down a flea bitten roach motel a while ago!” Still going off his ego, he addresses the Thief, “So in my most awesomeness of ways, I’m gonna let you live. Just hand the package over and we’re good!

But as Jason was so wrapped up in his own ego, he just could not let the moment go without flexing it some more. Going off the assumption the Thief was a fan, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the smudged picture he retrieved from the fire and offered it forward. “Tell you what, as your such a Backstabber fan you can have this.” Again he smiles a crooked grin, “That’s right, you can tell all your friends that The Backstabber gave it to you.” Immediately, he begins patting himself down, “If you got a pen I’ll even sign itfor you!!!” But just as he was about to hand the picture over, the alley came to life with sirens, as red and blue lights lit the night. Within seconds two SWAT vans had arrived on the scene, with a small horde of police cars blocking the exit of the alleyway. Before he knew it, Jason was covered head to toe with little red dots, with three aimed between his eyes, and five centering around his privates. But just as he was about to let out a girlish scream, the Thief spoke up with a modicum of confidence, "If anything, you and me should TEAM UP AND KILL THESE GUYS! I kind of lead to your home or something being obliterated and stuff, but who's the REAL oppressor here!? A-And I'll even give you your package back after, deal!?"

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With no other option, Jason let out a shriveled, “Um, Sure!” as he quickly ducked for cover. For the time being he squeezed in next to the Thief, hiding behind the safety of the dumpster as the SWAT teams spread out for a tactical advantage. Immediately, shots rang out across the alley with every man involved fighting for their lives. But as Jason was fighting with an empty gun, he was no more or less a target in red leather, waiting to be hit. But because his life was on the line, and perhaps his reputation, he continued to aim his 9mm forward and with every time he pulled the trigger, he would shout out at the top of his lungs,”BANG!!!! Unfortunately, even Jason knew at this point he was not at his best without a gun, and even considered using his mutant ability to take the entire SWAT team down with one rock, but choose not to for one simple reason, ‘Nobody was paying him!’ For in Jason’s little world he did nothing for free. Despite the fact bullets were whizzing by, he thought of only profit, and that lead him back to thinking of the package. For at this point he demanded some form of justification for all the hell he had been through, and that package was his Holy Grail!

With his eyes locked firmly on the prize, he drooled ever so slightly as he reached out to grab it with both hands. Going off the assumption the Thief was too preoccupied with the gun fight to see him, Jason crept in as quiet as he could. If lucky enough to steal the package away from the Thief's cold grip, he would let out a loud “Sucka!” as he quickly dart up the lower steps of a fire escape conveniently located along the alley’s sidewall. Still dodging the bullets, he would make his way to the roof top, where he would take out the police choppers spot lights with whatever solid object he could find. From that point on he would continue to leap from roof top to roof top, until he felt safe enough to find time to open the package and proclaim whatever was inside, as his own. However, if caught in the moment while trying to steal the package for himself, he would quickly deny all implications. Instead he would simply look the Thief in his cold soulless eyes and try to bluff, “I was just, um,” he pulls away with his hands in a nonthreatening manner, “..looking for some, um, more ammo!?!?” Despite the fact he would look way more than guilty, he continued to play his part by pulling the trigger of his 9mm producing nothing more than a few simple ‘clicks’. But as his gun was held up above his head, its polished steel reflected the red and blue lights in an elegant and impressive display that would only magnify its allure!

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#13 Posted by Thief (43 posts) - - Show Bio

The Backstabber. What a creative name!

The alleyway was an orchestra of gunfire, bullets peppering the dumpster they two cowered behind while a few stray bullets nearly took their toes off. Being cornered on both sides with the only obvious escape being a highly exposed fire escape was one of the worst situations imaginable, and it seemed the only way out was to fight out. But Backstabber didn't seem to understand the gravity of the situation, waving the gun empty gun around and poorly mimicking the sound of gunfire. A pretty interesting tactic! But ultimately doing literally nothing to the officers. Ironically it was up to the chicken to finish the gunfight.

The rubber mask poked over the top of the dumpster for the briefest of moments, just enough to get a clear sight of one of the approaching SWAT teams. The officers approached with a wall of shields, those not carrying shields had been wielding MP5s, spraying at the dumpster in an attempt to take out the criminals behind it. A quick glance was all it took to analyze the gear, just a moment after two officers in the line ceased fire, their firearms vanishing from their hands. No sooner had they disappeared that gunfire suddenly erupted from the dumpster, Cluck wielding both submachine guns with a surprising amount of control as he blindly peppered both lines of officers.

Despite the retaliation, the gunfire did nothing to the teams. The shield walls closed tight, the 9mm unable to penetrate through the shields. If anything, the attack had bought them a short amount of time until the police would soon find a way to incapacitate the two. One of the officers had already turned, and retreated back towards their truck to retrieve tear gas. The thief peered over the dumpster again, taking a second look at their situation before quickly cowering back into cover next to the man. Only to find him...not there. Instead hearing a sharply witted "Sucka!" from above him, surprisingly on the fire escape, where officers took shots at the Backstabber, even more surprisingly, the man wasn't hit. He'd robbed the thief, and gotten away with it.

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The Rooster's eyes were voids, staring at him with a silent but clear accusation. His hands still firmly grasped the set of MP5s, the weapons nearly trembling out of absolute, unbridled rage as the man climbed up onto the rooftop of the building they had been crouched beside.

Their agreement to survive against the police was a lie. A filthy lie from a filthy person.

Cluck averted his gaze towards a satellite dish mounted outside of a window near the roof. The thief disappeared, a satellite dish in his place and he had taken it's placement beside the glass. Cluck's fingers grasped onto a windowsill, one of the submachine guns needing to be dropped down onto the officers in order to do so. Without hesitation the rooster pulled himself up onto the windowsill and then onto the roof, just in time to see the Backstabber with package in hand two rooftops away, soon to be three if he made the jump to it.

The thief nearly threw himself up onto the rooftop, his worn sneakers kicking up gravel as he sprinted across the rooftop in pursuit of the literal Backstabber. He was fast on his feet, making his way to the edge of the rooftop in just a couple of seconds and springing across to the next building. The MP5 the thief held was lifted into the air as soon as his feet left solid ground, a fully automatic spray of bullets firing wildly towards his center mass, with a clear intent to kill the would-be thief where he stood.