Categories > Games > Sonic the Hedgehog > SBDRF: Sonic and Blaze Do Russia Future
I
Destroying the Olympics in London
The woman nibbles at the pencil, struggling to keep a straight face at the man’s ridiculous claims.
Opposing her across her oil-finished Greek wood desk is an animated man in a twenty-dollar open button suit.
He’s highly animated, rocking back and forth in his reclinable chair like a schizophrenic who thinks there are government sponsored nanorobotic cameras watching his every move. Repeatedly, he gets up, tripping on himself the entire way, and shoves window blinds down, breaking several in the process, psychotically looking left, right, up, down, and every way in between before rushing back to his chair and continuing to rock, only to get back up and do the same as before.
He continues to do this several times.
The lady, a lavender cat with yellow eyes and her long hair let down, is wearing a professional female lawyer’s suit. Her tail is wrapped around her waist, acting as an extra belt of sorts. Despite the fact she is barely high enough to see over the desk top, it’s obvious her presence is demanding and noticeable. She looks at the man with pity, understanding that he will most certainly continue to babble nonsense.
“So let me get this straight,” she begins. The lady’s powerful, pedantic voice immediately forces the crazed lunatic to jump up in his chair. “You went outside to throw away a clot of mud...”
“No, no, no, it was a bag of mud! A bag fulla eight-month ole mud that wuz in my house, n’ my wife tol’ me to throw it out!” the man replies in a nasally Brooklyn accent. He rubs the back of his bald head, perhaps trying to feel if aliens stuck an antenna in it while he wasn’t paying attention.
“Right, right. A bag of mud. So, you turned around to throw the bag of eight-month old mud in your trash can. You accidentally left the back door open, and-“
“A buncha government ninjas came inside and attacked everybody inside!” You could almost sense a burst of laughter trying to escape from the lady’s stoic face. She drops a temperate sigh.
“OK. So let me put this all together. You went outside to throw away eight-month old mud, left the back door open, turned around, opened the trash can lid,” she begins, still attempting to hold back snickers, “and during the two and a half seconds your back was turned, a legion of government sponsored super ninjas ran inside your house, shot your three wives and seventeen children with your shotgun, ordered pizza from six different pizza chains, stabbed all pizza guys over 1,200 times collectively who then proceeded to rip each other apart using your chainsaw, dragged everyone out into the backyard and dug them under the house, then forced you to helplessly put your hand prints on the murder weapons and then injected V into your body before they ran off and you turned around.”
“No, no, no... OK, yeah! Yeah, but that’s not all! The taxi driver was in on it too! He’s part of the Men in Black! He put a hit out on me! And the babysitter too! She’s been feeding my government weapon children special doughnuts that give them the power to control the weather! I mean-I-I mean, haven’t you noticed all the hurricanes and tornadoes and floods and earthquakes that have been going on over the past five, ten, twenty, fifty years?”
“Ok, sir, I’ve had enough for one day. I have a migraine from being forced to suffer through your lame voice and I have six more cases today. Just stay in here and the officer will direct you to the next room.” The woman quickly gets up and leaves the room, slamming the door as she leaves.
The slam causes the drugged man to fall over in the chair, sending him tumbling to the ground.
OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo~OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo
Outside in the main lobby, another lavender cat is sitting in a chair, trying to keep the fires of Hell contained within her. Sitting across from her isn’t a drugged up psychopath but a blue hedgehog, albeit just as animated.
“Blaze, I’m sorry! I-I didn’t expect you to knock it back at Silver!” Sonic cries out, desperate to stop whatever the princess is planning to do. Blaze, tapping her foot and arms folded, refuses to listen to any more of Sonic’s words. “I’ll-I’ll-“
“NO!” she screams out. Sonic and a child-sized Silver wince.
The woman walks into the lobby. Upon seeing the trio, she immediately is hit by something.
Literally.
“Silver, don’t throw stuff at people!” Sonic commands. Kid Silver responds by punching Sonic.
In the nads.
Sonic felled, Blaze magisterially demands that Silver behave himself. The lady rubs the side of her head as she looks down at the handgun that was thrown at her via psychokinesis.
“Oh, this is the Sonic v. Blaze case.” She sighs and, with great contempt for all she’s about to talk to, says, “Hello, my name is Mrs. Ezalb.” Sonic, in a squeaky voice, attempts to say something, only to get cut off. “I don’t give a damn who you are, and you’d better not give a damn as to who I am. Just follow me.” The four walk, or in Sonic’s case, limps, towards the original room.
Except for the fact that Silver is a kid and has just impaled a countless number of people using only psychokinesis, pens, pencils, scissors, and paper, nothing seems out of the ordinary.
“Paper hurts,” a man comments, comically sliced and diced by countless paper cuts.
OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo~OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo
Destroying the Olympics in London
The woman nibbles at the pencil, struggling to keep a straight face at the man’s ridiculous claims.
Opposing her across her oil-finished Greek wood desk is an animated man in a twenty-dollar open button suit.
He’s highly animated, rocking back and forth in his reclinable chair like a schizophrenic who thinks there are government sponsored nanorobotic cameras watching his every move. Repeatedly, he gets up, tripping on himself the entire way, and shoves window blinds down, breaking several in the process, psychotically looking left, right, up, down, and every way in between before rushing back to his chair and continuing to rock, only to get back up and do the same as before.
He continues to do this several times.
The lady, a lavender cat with yellow eyes and her long hair let down, is wearing a professional female lawyer’s suit. Her tail is wrapped around her waist, acting as an extra belt of sorts. Despite the fact she is barely high enough to see over the desk top, it’s obvious her presence is demanding and noticeable. She looks at the man with pity, understanding that he will most certainly continue to babble nonsense.
“So let me get this straight,” she begins. The lady’s powerful, pedantic voice immediately forces the crazed lunatic to jump up in his chair. “You went outside to throw away a clot of mud...”
“No, no, no, it was a bag of mud! A bag fulla eight-month ole mud that wuz in my house, n’ my wife tol’ me to throw it out!” the man replies in a nasally Brooklyn accent. He rubs the back of his bald head, perhaps trying to feel if aliens stuck an antenna in it while he wasn’t paying attention.
“Right, right. A bag of mud. So, you turned around to throw the bag of eight-month old mud in your trash can. You accidentally left the back door open, and-“
“A buncha government ninjas came inside and attacked everybody inside!” You could almost sense a burst of laughter trying to escape from the lady’s stoic face. She drops a temperate sigh.
“OK. So let me put this all together. You went outside to throw away eight-month old mud, left the back door open, turned around, opened the trash can lid,” she begins, still attempting to hold back snickers, “and during the two and a half seconds your back was turned, a legion of government sponsored super ninjas ran inside your house, shot your three wives and seventeen children with your shotgun, ordered pizza from six different pizza chains, stabbed all pizza guys over 1,200 times collectively who then proceeded to rip each other apart using your chainsaw, dragged everyone out into the backyard and dug them under the house, then forced you to helplessly put your hand prints on the murder weapons and then injected V into your body before they ran off and you turned around.”
“No, no, no... OK, yeah! Yeah, but that’s not all! The taxi driver was in on it too! He’s part of the Men in Black! He put a hit out on me! And the babysitter too! She’s been feeding my government weapon children special doughnuts that give them the power to control the weather! I mean-I-I mean, haven’t you noticed all the hurricanes and tornadoes and floods and earthquakes that have been going on over the past five, ten, twenty, fifty years?”
“Ok, sir, I’ve had enough for one day. I have a migraine from being forced to suffer through your lame voice and I have six more cases today. Just stay in here and the officer will direct you to the next room.” The woman quickly gets up and leaves the room, slamming the door as she leaves.
The slam causes the drugged man to fall over in the chair, sending him tumbling to the ground.
OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo~OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo
Outside in the main lobby, another lavender cat is sitting in a chair, trying to keep the fires of Hell contained within her. Sitting across from her isn’t a drugged up psychopath but a blue hedgehog, albeit just as animated.
“Blaze, I’m sorry! I-I didn’t expect you to knock it back at Silver!” Sonic cries out, desperate to stop whatever the princess is planning to do. Blaze, tapping her foot and arms folded, refuses to listen to any more of Sonic’s words. “I’ll-I’ll-“
“NO!” she screams out. Sonic and a child-sized Silver wince.
The woman walks into the lobby. Upon seeing the trio, she immediately is hit by something.
Literally.
“Silver, don’t throw stuff at people!” Sonic commands. Kid Silver responds by punching Sonic.
In the nads.
Sonic felled, Blaze magisterially demands that Silver behave himself. The lady rubs the side of her head as she looks down at the handgun that was thrown at her via psychokinesis.
“Oh, this is the Sonic v. Blaze case.” She sighs and, with great contempt for all she’s about to talk to, says, “Hello, my name is Mrs. Ezalb.” Sonic, in a squeaky voice, attempts to say something, only to get cut off. “I don’t give a damn who you are, and you’d better not give a damn as to who I am. Just follow me.” The four walk, or in Sonic’s case, limps, towards the original room.
Except for the fact that Silver is a kid and has just impaled a countless number of people using only psychokinesis, pens, pencils, scissors, and paper, nothing seems out of the ordinary.
“Paper hurts,” a man comments, comically sliced and diced by countless paper cuts.
OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo~OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo
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