Post by Derick Creed on Aug 6, 2016 9:55:59 GMT -5
Derick Creed was slamming gears in the Dodge Demon as his car came roaring into the 'Wasteland, a place for Sinners.' Looking around as his car rumbled down the street, slowly lowering his speed. People looked at him and his Purple Dodge Demon as he drove up to the bar. It seemed to him that people were drunk and very tense. Once he stopped and put his car in park, opened the driver side door and stepped out with his Glock 19 on his hip and his shotgun in his left hand. In his right hand was his Sledgehammer with the railroad nail welded to it. Looking at a few guys who were starring at the car, he pointed the hammer at them and said to them. "You touch my car, and this spike will go into your heads." Turning around, he walked in. People were drinking, joking, laughing, there was even a fight going on in the one corner of the bar. He shook his head as he made his way to the counter. With his back to it, he just scanned the room. Thinking to himself. 'This is the type of place Rhett would find himself in. And knowing the dead out there, they wouldn't eat something that foul. Might give them the shits badly if they just sniffed him.'
After imaging it, he just laughed a bit. A voice then called out behind him. "What would it be mister?" Derick turned around slowly and looked at a man who had half of his face burnt off. A tag on his shirt said 'Scabs' Raising a brow, he looked at the guy even more carefully and said. "I'll take a beer. And no offense to you, but you might want to cover up up your face with a paper bag. It's no wonder why people are drinking til they drop." He looked over at a guy who just fell off his bar stool. "And my point is proven" The man spat on the counter in front of Derick and slammed a beer in front of him. "So what will you give for it stranger? Ammo, food or service to the boss?" Still with a raised brow, "Service to the boss?" Scab nodded his head. "You become one with the crew. Go out on runs, fix cars up, help with the maintenance of the buildings or you get your shit kicked out of you. So what will it be Baldy? Hm?!?" Laughing again, he looked at the man with a tear in his eye. "I only been bested once and they decided to be a three on one when I was a kid. So if you got a problem with me, let me see your boss. And hopefully he isn't as bad looking as you are crispy." Scabs only shouted out. "BOSS!"
After imaging it, he just laughed a bit. A voice then called out behind him. "What would it be mister?" Derick turned around slowly and looked at a man who had half of his face burnt off. A tag on his shirt said 'Scabs' Raising a brow, he looked at the guy even more carefully and said. "I'll take a beer. And no offense to you, but you might want to cover up up your face with a paper bag. It's no wonder why people are drinking til they drop." He looked over at a guy who just fell off his bar stool. "And my point is proven" The man spat on the counter in front of Derick and slammed a beer in front of him. "So what will you give for it stranger? Ammo, food or service to the boss?" Still with a raised brow, "Service to the boss?" Scab nodded his head. "You become one with the crew. Go out on runs, fix cars up, help with the maintenance of the buildings or you get your shit kicked out of you. So what will it be Baldy? Hm?!?" Laughing again, he looked at the man with a tear in his eye. "I only been bested once and they decided to be a three on one when I was a kid. So if you got a problem with me, let me see your boss. And hopefully he isn't as bad looking as you are crispy." Scabs only shouted out. "BOSS!"