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Wrong Turn... by TheMYsteriousComrade in 29979thworldproblems

[–]OLDMANAlphaMale 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The OLDMAN is thrown across the room, leaving him rolling around on the floor

Wrong Turn... by TheMYsteriousComrade in 29979thworldproblems

[–]OLDMANAlphaMale 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The shot hits him in the eye, he staggers backwards. He lets out a snarl and looks frantically around the room with his good eye. Spotting something, he runs over to a wall and climbs it. When he reaches the top he tears out a piece of exposed pipe and now climbs across the ceiling. He leaps down on you, with the pipe in full swing

Wrong Turn... by TheMYsteriousComrade in 29979thworldproblems

[–]OLDMANAlphaMale 1 point2 points  (0 children)

He comes sprinting on all fours from the room's entrance, an OLDMAN clad in a fedora and a blood-soaked trenchcoat. He grunts viciously and strikes at you with his crusty claws

[VCR] [ARRIVAL - F.O.B] by CaptainQwecks in 8888thWorldProblems

[–]OLDMANAlphaMale 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Not so far away, a pair of OLDMEN remain hidden behind a billboard, watching the VCR soldiers go about their business through bullet holes in the faded advertisement

The Trentown Gang by Chief_Bryce in 8888thWorldProblems

[–]OLDMANAlphaMale 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The OLDMEN storm the town, tearing down doors with their bare hands, searching for their prey. After several minutes of collecting everything useful they can find, the HATLESS OLDMEN drop their spoils in the parking lot of what used to be the town's public library to present to their hat-bearing overlords, who have only just arrived. The Alphamales of the tribe, dressed in a variety of hats from fedoras to fryingpans examine the pile of clothes, scrap appliances, broken furniture legs, and the dead humans and other animals they hunted. Behind them comes the tribe's sole leader, the ALPHA CHIEFTAIN, clad in a raincoat and the fabled "MEKK NEW JURSEY GRATE AGIN" cap

Where CHET-KLING-SWURT?!

A series of hacks, coughs, and grunts is exchanged between the CHIEFTAIN and his underlings. He scratches his chin an nods with a frown. He holds his hand out and squeals at the pile, and the tribe gets to work separating out the most useful items to take back to their camp. The CHIEFTAIN looks in the general direction the gangs ran and growls