an elaborate beat

pennpal · #1 11-01-2006, 02:31 AM

I pay 45k in tuition a year, and my school can't afford an exterminator to take care of the bug problem. I've duct-taped every last crack in my room but lo and behold, today when I was 8-tabling stars I look to my right. As if on cue, out of the depths of the vent this huge roach just waltzes the [censored] into my room.

So I'm like "OH HELL NO, NOT IN MY HOUSE" and immediately summon the aid of my hallmates to combat this newfound enemy.

Fight and you may die. Run and you will live at least a while. And dying in your bed many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance, to come back here as young men and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they will never take our freedom!

So of [censored] course none of my friends show up.

I circle my opponent, keeping out of its field of vision as I reach for my weapon: my trusty samba. I am Maximus, readying for the kill. Suddenly my approach is detected - I lunge forward as the enemy sprints towards the vent. "COWARD!" I scream.

He stops.
Turns.

Oh dear God, what have I gotten myself into. This beast has called this dorm home for years, evading hundreds of students in their attempts to kill him. He knows not defeat. Do I have the skill to destroy such a monster?

I charge and scream, my battle cry echoing off the paper-thin walls. A miss - what folly! My overzealous attack may have cost me victory. However, his luck is short lived. The heathen's feint to the left is quick, skilled, and - unfortunately for him - anticipated. I make contact, drawing first blood.

My opponent lies slain, his entrails leaking onto my shelf. Success! I kiss my samba; it has not failed me in my quest for victory. I thank God for guiding my hand, and leave the room to urinate.

I return to a perplexing sight - where is the body of my slain foe? My search reveals that he has dragged himself to the head of my bed, where he lies twitching in agony.

I weigh my options, but realize that I must complete my task. In my vocabulary, mercy is a four letter word. Well, five letters, but it's still a pretty bad word. There's only one thing left to do.

I turn back to the computer, drunk on the thrill of success, the alure of the kill.

I've been blinded out of 162$ worth of tournaments.

Fuc[/b]k.