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like the regents of the outer worlds, he

  • like the regents of the outer worlds, he took time off to attend a molecular cruiser races. He hid the bitter regret proper to his station in life when his cruiser mowed down the
  • cheap seats. They parked their cruisers anywhere they wanted for the races & the rabble were less than ants to them. He tried to forget Jerome's family had tickets for that section
  • and just wanted to have a couple beers and lay low. On the way up the steps though some drunken bum made a play for his handcuffs. His training kicked in and before he knew it he
  • was calling upon the skills he had learned from
  • his Cub Scout days. What would Mrs. Nagin, his den master have done in this situation? Where would he get sufficient Oreos?
  • If he couldn't come up with a hundred Oreos, Slick Willy would make Catshit Mufasa pay with his blood. With nowhere else to turn, he called the only man for the job, Michael Scarn.
  • Scarn. A man who's name was synonymous with success. A man who would do anything to get the job done. The only man to have traveled in time in a fridge. He accepted the job, and
  • for a while, things were great. Money, women, moderately fast cars, But after only a few weeks, the feeling of success faded away to be replaced with an itch. An itch for
  • justice. Never again was he going to forget about what was important to him, and he would always regret throwing it all away for this mediocre life.
  • But despite his regrets, he remained the frontman of Creed.

1 Comments

  1. Bad. Apr 22 2011 @ 00:52

    This story is gold all around. Agent Scarn should become a mainstay around here.

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