Dace59 0 Report post Posted September 25, 2003 (edited) A distant and dusty cargo air field somewhere out in the middle of Florida, with heat waves shimmering up from the hard air, clouds roll across the empty blue sky. Nothing seems to move, but off in the distance a radar dish spins and a ground crew race out into the runway. Silence is shattered by the roar of jet engines as a huge ex military transport plane thunders out of the sky. Wheels slam into the tarmac, smoking and squealing under the force trying to bring them to a halt. The ramp at the back of the plane slams into the ground with a crack as the ground crew race up inside the huge machine. Dragging out several crates, all bounded with id marked printed on their sides in huge black lettering, they look around, waiting for someone to deliver them to. Once more something breaks the perfect image of the distance. Huge and plant, air horn blasting, an eighteen wheeled artic trunk rumbles down the landing strip. As it rolls closer a closer, someone inside slams on the breaks and locks several massive wheels for effect, sending clouds of smoke and the smell of burning rubber into the air as the truck grinds to a halt infront of the cargo boxes. The cabin door swing open and slams shut as a black leather wearing figure stride across the tarmac, metal plated boots clinking as he walks. Holding a pen in his tattooed hand, he makes no sound as he signs the form infront oh him before moving around to the back of the massive truck. -FADE- Back in the cab, Dace turns the key and brings the engine roaring back into life. The whole trunk shakes under the sure power, even the crate firmly tied down in the back of the trailer. Shifting it into gear, he pulls away from the dusty air field and rolls off into the distance. Static crackles as he turns on the radio, before spinning the dial around to CD and pressing play. “The Death Ritual Begins…!” Zyklon’s Chaos Deathcult screams into life as Dace floors his foot, accelerating the eighteen wheeler down the high way back towards Tampa Bay. It’s taken long enough to get all of this shipped over out of storage, but it’s there as last. Now I can really get ready for this storm. Batten down the hatches and let me stand on the main deck.. heh. Turning hard on the wheel and rolling the truck around a corner, Dace gazes out across the empty roads. Early in the morning, no one is out here as the sun is still peaking past the horizon. The Zyklon cd continues to blast out of the sound system, adding further rattlings to the cabin of the truck. Good job customs aren’t asking questions about wrestling gear or I’d never get half this stuff through. That really would have spoiled by fun. Still, I’m the crazy fucker that stands out in a storm like this with a lightning rod. Signs on the roadside count down the distance back to Tampa Bay. In the back of his mind, Dace checklists off all the gear in the crate. So many things, with so many uses. Such a big battle to fight. Craven is Craven. If that self important fucktard thinks having King’s backing will make him any better, I’ve got a Weedwhacker waiting for him. Bastion is going to be a problem, we’re going to be after each other. No way an alliance is going to last in this one. Still, it’s an art to weather a storm and every art has it’s aids. Barrelling past the city limits sign into Tampa Bay, Dace slams the breaks once more and switches gears, slowing down before caffeine fuelled, over active cops decent to get in their quota of truck stoppings. So much weight to carry and think about. So much to plan and to little time to do it all. Well all I can do is stand and fight for this one. Got to be very, got to be geared up, got to fight. There can be no holding back or the storm will blow me away. Rolling to a stop outside of his home and stepping from the cab, Dace looks up at the dark and cloudy sky. The very first rain drop falls and slashes against his shades as a smile creeps across his face. -FADE- Edited September 25, 2003 by Dace59 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
janusd 0 Report post Posted September 25, 2003 Batten down the hatches, because the storm is coming. And where the FUCK did you get a license to drive an eighteen wheeler? *gets visions of Dace driving said truck into Genesis IV* Oh, and I must say. Craven is Craven. If that self important fucktard thinks having King’s backing with make him any better, I’ve got a Weedwhacker waiting for him. GOLD! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Suicide King Report post Posted September 25, 2003 Maybe I should just blow up his truck before Genesis. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Dace59 0 Report post Posted September 25, 2003 It's pretty easy to get old of HVG lisences in the UK. Why would Dace not have one, he's been in fed, he's driven the crew trucks around. But thank you for the idea about driving in wit it. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
