nanowrimo 2k9

Nickles pulled his bike into the brush beside the warehouse and snuck around the front, as inconspicuously as a man of his size could muster. There was a side door that was locked, and he was immediately stumped: he wasn’t even sure what he was doing any more. A flash of inspiration and a heady stream of drool dripped down his shirt, leaving an oozing glimmer in the afternoon sun.

BOOZE. The answer to everything, of course, he ran back to his bike and popped open one of the warm forties and guzzled it to the label. Bum poison, refreshing bum poison, the most wonderful malt liquor ever forged, there is probably nothing as delicious in the universe as bum poison brand malt liquor, drank to the label, then refilled with kool aid and ever clear. fantastic. Feeling refreshed and slightly more focused he stumbled back to the front of the warehouse, and mysteriously found the door to be open.

“They must have thought that was the password.” He slipped a shoe into the door and limped back to his supplies to keep them all in a cargo pocket.

“These will be more better as passwords inside, i think its the magic key” he sputtered towardes the air and no one in particular.

He moved back to the door and regained shoe ed ness without incident. Then he went inside, yes i dont know any better way to say it, yes i still have to say it.

Inside was an almost empty, well lit warehouse with just a few stacks of crap in the back, one was labeled “dinosaur blood” the other, “meat concentrate”, there had been an accident recently and a few of the cans were split on the ground. Nickles face lit up at the sight of his beloved :”hand carved” meat was there, but it was the wrong consistency, sort of a runny jelly, that was joining the dinosaur blood in running through a grate in the center of the room. With reckless abamndon, nickles ran towards the mystery meat, guzzling a forty as he ran trying to make room in his spacious cargo pants.

“This will save me so much money at the service station” he thought loudly slightly puking through his eyes.

But another smell made him stop in his tracks, it smelled like an old homeless man, but it turned out it was just delicious dinosaur blood. Fuck yeah! The thing with dinosaur blood is that it couldn’t actually exist because there are no dinosaurs, but the fact of the matter is that there was a made scientist who controlled shit and he spent a lot of time turning peoples minds into jelly and then harvesting dinosaur cells from a deliicate little garden made of their dander. When he had enough cells, eh actually just shocked it with a dry cell and some tin foil. it was awesome. Anyway, these dinosaurs grew rapidly and multiplied, but he killed them quite frequently, for the meat and for the blood. The blood, as has been mentioned before was really quite delicious, but the meat left something to be desired. Simple solution, then! The mad scientist just processed and cured the meat with various spices in a way that was almost identical to spam, except made with reconstituted dinosaur meat. Thats the plot in a nut shell.

Additionally, since there was no way to legally sell this meat (too many questions about why he had dinosaurs), he naturally uploaded into the american black market, that runs through the veins largely on the wheels of illicit truck drivers. In doing this, the areas outside of the main freeways started showing the signs of dinosaur meat dependency, not that there were any really bad side effects, most of the people on that shit were plenty fucked up by their own doing and actually having something with mega vitamins jacked into it might have saved more than a few teeth.

Finally, at some point someone cottoned to his dinosaur farm, and wanted to let his kids ride, so actually the mad scientist made some good money on the side just letting kids ride dinosaurs, but it all went horribly wrong when they saw the dino blood harvesting plant. Of course nobody like to think about the fact that the cute and fuzzy dinosaurs that they ride will eventually become their delicious “hand carved” sandwiches, but y’know, fuck those guys.

Long story short, the doc took his dino operations and had to relocate, while also massively scaling back on “hand carved” meat production, this had repurcussions along the trading line, and led to a bunch of freak ass losers like nickles raiding warehouses all over the west coast. Nickles was just the one who had found a store of it, and managed to make the connection. Also, the fact that there were instructions on the cans helped.

Nickles was also fortunate in that the locals mostly only had demand for dinosaur blood. Standard procedure was to miss some other screwy shit. Anyway, there were several large forklifts worth of dino meat, and just a few scraps of the blood left. The town people didn’t even know they were in a famine.

Nickles took no time in finding the loading bay opening, and backing his bike up into it. Since he had done all those awesome modifications earlier, there were a few things where he could just totally make his bike do amazing shit. Like right now, he pushed a button on the dash, and two forklift tines shot out the back. Making use of a cart in the warehouse, he pulled a whole plat down to the front and loaded them on the forklift of his awesome bike.

“Yep, looks like i got the supplies, there.”

It was fucking awesome, just trust me on it. I think he wore some sunglasses and shit too.

After loading everythinng up, he started pulling away, the bike using its awesome gyroscopes to balance it perfectly as it strapped on the weight of the motherfucking canned dinosaur spam. The brunch buffet had nothing on this bitch.

“The brunch buffet got nothin on this bitch”, he said out loud, echoing my sentiments, poured some of the ultra liquor into a small hole on his dashboard, and kicked this fucker into nitro.