Post by kingrat on Mar 7, 2011 7:11:32 GMT -5
El Jefe had fired the opening salvo in what was destined to become a war between the North American Armadillo and the AK Bunker conglomerate. Two worthy adversaries indeed had become mortal enemies and the fight would be to the death. As Commander-in-Chief of the vast AK Bunker industrial, aerospace, defense, and consumer products conglomerate, El Jefe brought considerable "fire power" to the fight. The strength, size, stamina, stealth, and natural athleticism of the North American Armadillo gave him a fighting chance and the sure probability of inflicting heavy casualties on his opponent - not to mention the possibility of an easy midnight snack.
In an extensive after-action investigation it would be discovered that Leeboat's R&D maintenance department had been re-calibrating all the test equipment at the AK Bunker headquarters campus, including El Jefe's private workshop dug hundreds of yards beneath the secret volcano base. When it was discovered that Toad Bravehart, one of the most senior and trusted members of Leeboat's team had mis-read the specifications on the Bullet Belching Tube Alignment and Sighting Bench Mounted Laboratory Contraption, it became clear to the investigators why the MDTLD did not guide the AR-15's projectile into the armadillo on that fateful night but instead placed it at the fringe of his left front foot.
"War with 'dillos is a precise game," El Jefe bellowed at Bravehart during the disciplinary hearing, "Your incompetence has endangered not only my life but the reputation of our company, and just earned you a permanent assignment to the company's Prudhoe Bay testing facility. If you ever come back I'm going to feed you to the hungriest armadillo I can find."
Leeboat himself had escaped disciplinary action related to the incident because he had not been among those on the maintenance detail. Fortunately for him, Leeboat had taken one of his infrequent days off to chauffer Princes Rebecca to an Abba concert.
Kingrat breathed a sigh of extremely guarded and fleeting relief when he noticed that the AR-15 had ejaculated its projectile without calamitous incendiary consequences. It was disaster enough, as it turned out, that the projectile had flown wide of its target, but at least no significant damage had occurred to the Navy's facility which would have been charged to Kingrat's budget. The immediate threat of the aroused armadillo, however, loomed large for he and El Jefe as they began to deal with the immediate danger. Aroused by the .22 ounces of depleted tritanium splashing at his hoof, the armadillo felt threatened but did not have enough information to precisely identify his adversary or its location. There were not enough sounds or other vibrations for the armadillo to focus his rage but that was soon to change.
El Jefe had no idea at the time what caused his first shot to miss. He only knew that he had an aroused armadillo in front of him, and that time was not on his side. Quickly he regained a sight picture of the beast through the MDTLD mated to the top of the AR-15 and jerked the firing lever once again. This time, there was no explosion for the FART device to muffle and no splashing projectile to confuse the armadillo's locator sensors. The normally reliable AR-15 did not function properly after its first shot and could not fire a subsequent round. El Jefe simultaneously had become defenseless and the sound of the second jerk of the firing lever gave the armadillo enough sensory information to locate his adversary. As far as Mr. Dillo was concerned, the animal he had located was either enemy or prey, and death for it was the next course of action in either case.
Instantly, Mr. Dillo’s eyelids flipped wide open and the nictitating membranes morphed to completely transparent, allowing his visual sensors to take in all available light in every spectrum except red. El Jefe and Kingrat became faint shadows in Mr. Dillo’s otherwise vibrantly clear night time world – a world where any moving, breathing entity became the object of intense rage. While not clearly identified, El Jefe was the closest of Mr. Dillo’s targets and attracted his attention first.
El Jefe saw the ‘dillo’s venomous red eyes light up the sensors of the MDTLD and got a peripheral glimpse of the beastie’s claws and tusks. Teeth gnashed and hooves thrashed the ground like a bull threatening rival suitors to his cow herd. What happened next was a blur in the memories of both El Jefe and Kingrat, but the next thing either could remember was that the MDTLD/AR-15 was laying on the ground at the base of a tree as El Jefe had scurried up to the second limb, and Kingrat was left on the ground with his red-shrouded flashlight in one hand and the trusty old 45mm handgun un-holstered at the ready.
Mr. Dillo had not yet realized that tree climbing was not among his repertoire of athletic abilities, so he continued for a while trying to get a grip on the tree trunk secure enough to claw his way up to his intended prey. He had, by sheer persistence, made it to the first limb and El Jefe perceived the vicious beastie as a real threat – unarmed as he was. Mr. Dillo, in his state of unfettered aggression, and El Jefe were both screaming obscenities at each other, creating a cacophony loud enough that it should have awakened The Admiral several miles away. The noise coming from the tree was so fierce and frightening that Kingrat feared the worst and yelled up asking for instructions.
“Shoot this thing!” replied El Jefe.
Trembling with fear and concern for his old friend, Kingrat hesitated in a moment of mental gridlock and then finally exclaimed: “I can’t shoot up there, El Jefe, I might hit you.”
El Jefe let out one more blood-curdling, unintelligible scream and then commanded – in the words of the immortal Jerry Clower: “Shoot up here amongst us. One of us needs some relief!”
Knowing that a shot from his trusty 45mm Pig Power repeating pistol would surely bring eternal relief to one of the combatants, if not both, Kingrat prepared to jerk the Pig Power’s firing lever and put an end to the suffering. All within the nano-second it takes for an experienced combat marksman to make the firing decision, his life with El Jefe flashed before his mind’s eye. He remembered the abundant acts of kindness shown him by El Jefe and the beautiful Queen Lydia. He remembered the unselfish way El Jefe had mentored him along his career path, and the good times they’d had on both business and pleasure missions. Within that instant he determined that El Jefe did not deserve to die in the claws or jaws of this Godless beast. For better or for worse, Kingrat decided to let the Pig Power do it's job.
Tune in to the next episode of The Armadillo Annihilator for more of this gripping tale.
In an extensive after-action investigation it would be discovered that Leeboat's R&D maintenance department had been re-calibrating all the test equipment at the AK Bunker headquarters campus, including El Jefe's private workshop dug hundreds of yards beneath the secret volcano base. When it was discovered that Toad Bravehart, one of the most senior and trusted members of Leeboat's team had mis-read the specifications on the Bullet Belching Tube Alignment and Sighting Bench Mounted Laboratory Contraption, it became clear to the investigators why the MDTLD did not guide the AR-15's projectile into the armadillo on that fateful night but instead placed it at the fringe of his left front foot.
"War with 'dillos is a precise game," El Jefe bellowed at Bravehart during the disciplinary hearing, "Your incompetence has endangered not only my life but the reputation of our company, and just earned you a permanent assignment to the company's Prudhoe Bay testing facility. If you ever come back I'm going to feed you to the hungriest armadillo I can find."
Leeboat himself had escaped disciplinary action related to the incident because he had not been among those on the maintenance detail. Fortunately for him, Leeboat had taken one of his infrequent days off to chauffer Princes Rebecca to an Abba concert.
Kingrat breathed a sigh of extremely guarded and fleeting relief when he noticed that the AR-15 had ejaculated its projectile without calamitous incendiary consequences. It was disaster enough, as it turned out, that the projectile had flown wide of its target, but at least no significant damage had occurred to the Navy's facility which would have been charged to Kingrat's budget. The immediate threat of the aroused armadillo, however, loomed large for he and El Jefe as they began to deal with the immediate danger. Aroused by the .22 ounces of depleted tritanium splashing at his hoof, the armadillo felt threatened but did not have enough information to precisely identify his adversary or its location. There were not enough sounds or other vibrations for the armadillo to focus his rage but that was soon to change.
El Jefe had no idea at the time what caused his first shot to miss. He only knew that he had an aroused armadillo in front of him, and that time was not on his side. Quickly he regained a sight picture of the beast through the MDTLD mated to the top of the AR-15 and jerked the firing lever once again. This time, there was no explosion for the FART device to muffle and no splashing projectile to confuse the armadillo's locator sensors. The normally reliable AR-15 did not function properly after its first shot and could not fire a subsequent round. El Jefe simultaneously had become defenseless and the sound of the second jerk of the firing lever gave the armadillo enough sensory information to locate his adversary. As far as Mr. Dillo was concerned, the animal he had located was either enemy or prey, and death for it was the next course of action in either case.
Instantly, Mr. Dillo’s eyelids flipped wide open and the nictitating membranes morphed to completely transparent, allowing his visual sensors to take in all available light in every spectrum except red. El Jefe and Kingrat became faint shadows in Mr. Dillo’s otherwise vibrantly clear night time world – a world where any moving, breathing entity became the object of intense rage. While not clearly identified, El Jefe was the closest of Mr. Dillo’s targets and attracted his attention first.
El Jefe saw the ‘dillo’s venomous red eyes light up the sensors of the MDTLD and got a peripheral glimpse of the beastie’s claws and tusks. Teeth gnashed and hooves thrashed the ground like a bull threatening rival suitors to his cow herd. What happened next was a blur in the memories of both El Jefe and Kingrat, but the next thing either could remember was that the MDTLD/AR-15 was laying on the ground at the base of a tree as El Jefe had scurried up to the second limb, and Kingrat was left on the ground with his red-shrouded flashlight in one hand and the trusty old 45mm handgun un-holstered at the ready.
Mr. Dillo had not yet realized that tree climbing was not among his repertoire of athletic abilities, so he continued for a while trying to get a grip on the tree trunk secure enough to claw his way up to his intended prey. He had, by sheer persistence, made it to the first limb and El Jefe perceived the vicious beastie as a real threat – unarmed as he was. Mr. Dillo, in his state of unfettered aggression, and El Jefe were both screaming obscenities at each other, creating a cacophony loud enough that it should have awakened The Admiral several miles away. The noise coming from the tree was so fierce and frightening that Kingrat feared the worst and yelled up asking for instructions.
“Shoot this thing!” replied El Jefe.
Trembling with fear and concern for his old friend, Kingrat hesitated in a moment of mental gridlock and then finally exclaimed: “I can’t shoot up there, El Jefe, I might hit you.”
El Jefe let out one more blood-curdling, unintelligible scream and then commanded – in the words of the immortal Jerry Clower: “Shoot up here amongst us. One of us needs some relief!”
Knowing that a shot from his trusty 45mm Pig Power repeating pistol would surely bring eternal relief to one of the combatants, if not both, Kingrat prepared to jerk the Pig Power’s firing lever and put an end to the suffering. All within the nano-second it takes for an experienced combat marksman to make the firing decision, his life with El Jefe flashed before his mind’s eye. He remembered the abundant acts of kindness shown him by El Jefe and the beautiful Queen Lydia. He remembered the unselfish way El Jefe had mentored him along his career path, and the good times they’d had on both business and pleasure missions. Within that instant he determined that El Jefe did not deserve to die in the claws or jaws of this Godless beast. For better or for worse, Kingrat decided to let the Pig Power do it's job.
Tune in to the next episode of The Armadillo Annihilator for more of this gripping tale.
