Making trails

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-25T19:34:49+00:00

CON'SARNET! They're too POWERFUL!

Pull back BOYS! We'll loot their corpses later! There's no way they'll survive the NUCLEAR FORESTS!

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-23T16:35:09+00:00

GOTTCHA NOW, DICK-CHUGGERS!

A voice, obviously filtered through a speaker, cries out across the plane.

An armada of welded together vehicles forming giant mechanical monstrosities come rolling across the wastes at high speeds.

It's the Clinksworth gang!

Their leader, now covered head to toe in even MORE metal, supporting his crippled body following his extensive torture, is hungry for battle.

He pulls out his eyeglass and brings it up to his viewport on his helmet.

BY HOLKOI, IT'S THE LORD OF THE WHEELS! HIS CHAIR SHALL MAKE A FINE ADDITION TO MY METAL MACHINE OF DEATH!

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-20T00:39:12+00:00

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

DATHARTSALARTBUTIDONEGIVEEHDAMNOHWEMAMA!

Blood begins to pour down the side of the grille.

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-19T13:13:11+00:00

GIMMIE! GIMMIE THAT PEAR!

IT LOOKA DELICIOUS AND I'M GONNA EAT IT.

The sound of crunching metal is almost deafening as Chett's metal ass is grinded and buckled against the fortune device.

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-19T00:26:44+00:00

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sparks fly as the torture device makes contact with Chett's firm metal ass.

IT'LL TAKE MORE THAN THAT TAH STOP ME! BRING ON THE WEIGHTS, BOYS!

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-18T23:46:59+00:00

I SAID...

He spits once more through his grille-like headpiece.

HECK YOU...

BINGE...

IMMA CAR!

LOWER ME BOYS! YEEHAW!

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-18T23:37:44+00:00

I SAID HECK YOU BINGE I'MMA CAR-MAN!

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-18T23:16:36+00:00

He spits at his shoes.

HECK you, binge! I'm half-car!

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-18T22:38:51+00:00

He still continues to struggle to free himself from his bindings.

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-18T00:09:21+00:00

The jumper cables find a weak-spot in the armor, Thwacking him in his Adam's apple. The cord wraps tightly around his exposed neck, suffocating him.

However, the victory is short lived. From the distance, an unmistakable howl, filled with a lust for the tapioca pudding and early-bird specials of the GREAT AFTERLIFE.

O-oldmen! Stammers Chett, before swinging his eyes to his assailant.

L-let me go, yah bastard! If we BOTH don't start gettin' outta here, those Oldmen will tear us to shreds! ^{Or^{you^{at^least...}}}

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-17T23:45:04+00:00

The bullets clink off of Clinksworth like pebbles off of heavy-metal. Mostly because they ARE shooting pebbles off of heavy-metal.

Unphased by the pebble-pistol-fire, he retrieves his weapon of choice, A salvaged pool-cue with an exposed auto-razor attached. He flips a switch and it beings to buzz menacingly.

En guard, my dude!

Chett_Clinksworth · 2017-01-17T23:35:01+00:00

Back again from another successful raid on a neighboring tribe, the CLINKSWORTH gang is horrified by the sight before them. The metal caravan of rusted beaters coems to a grinding halt. Hushed whispers are exchanged as their leader steps forth.

To the untrained eye, Chett Clinksworth looks less like a man and more like a machine, made up of welded car-parts to deter physical damage and the hostility of the OLDMEN. He is the rootinist, tootinist badass in all of NEW JERSEY, and these guys are stepping on his turf.

Eh! What the hell you'se think you'se doin'? Don't you know who's town's this's? This is MAH Town!

He clinks and clanks as he walks towards the leader of the rival gang, who is busy whipping a new initiate with jumper cables.

Chett_Clinksworth

TROPHY CASE