Roach-Busters
28-03-2005, 16:27
(OOC: WARNING: Foul language!)
Capitol Building, RB City, the Pest Control Company of Roach-Busters
"This is an outrage! A goddamned outrage! Goddamn it, J.L., you goddamned dictator, are you trying to goddamn make us a goddamned Third Reich?" Congressman Morton 'Hoggie' Weldstan shouted.
"Congressman, refrain from further idiocy before I decide to detain you," J.L. said tersely, his voice eerily calm, almost atonal and emotionless.
"Well, fuck you!" Weldstan shouted, so furious he was in tears. Sobbing, he said, "Fuck you..."
The rest of the Congressmen were too stunned to speak. J.L. had simply entered the room, taken a seat, and said calmly, "Congress is dismissed. Permanently. Democracy is a cesspool which breeds tyranny by majority, setting the stage for communism. To preserve liberty and deter Marxism, I must assume full control of the political realm in RB."
Armed guards quietly and peacefully escorted all congressmen and senators outside. They would be forcibly retired, paid enough money to support themselves and their families, and never permitted to participate in politics again. Only Weldstan resisted.
"J.L., damn you, I'll have your hide! One day, man! One day!" Weldstan screamed, struggling to break free as two immensely muscular bodyguards carried him away.
"Hoggie, because you are being so difficult, I believe we may have to have you demonstrate what happens to those who refuse to obey," the Generalissimo said. He snapped his fingers, and the bodyguards set him down in a chair, tied him up, and left him for J.L. to deal with.
"Get the video cameras ready," J.L. snapped, and shortly afterwards, a cameraman arrived, and began filming.
J.L. stripped Weldstan's feet bare, removing his socks and shoes. He then took a hard, spikey leather whip, and lashed the bottom of Weldstan's foot, etching a thin, ugly red scar that bled profusely. The bottom of his foot was bright red, and Weldstan screamed so shrilly he sounded like a four-year-old girl. The Generalissimo J.L. proceeded to lash the bottom of Weldstan's foot exactly one thousand times. When he was done, Weldstan was sobbing like a baby, begging for mercy. His foot was drenched in blood. Smiling, oblivious to Weldstan's agony, the Generalissimo administered punishment to the second foot in the same fashion.
"Going to call insult me now, 'Hoggie?'" J.L. asked.
Weldstan rapidly shook his head.
J.L. grinned. "Didn't think so."
He took a wooden paddle, dipped it in a vat of hot tar over 400 degrees, and began gently painting the bottoms of Weldstan's feet with the tar, as the dissident congressman screeched, so excruciatingly loudly that windows shattered, the building vibrated slightly, and everyone within a two-mile radius plugged their ears, wincing in pain at the sound. When J.L. was done, he grabbed a crude, rusty, filthy wrench, and twisted each of Weldstan's toes backwards. Weldstan could no longer scream. His throat was so dry and sore he could not even make a sound. J.L. then ripped out of the toenails, one at a time.
"Get this loser out of here," he said, and the guards untied Weldstan, dragged him away into a black van with tinted windows, and sped away.
He was never seen again.
Capitol Building, RB City, the Pest Control Company of Roach-Busters
"This is an outrage! A goddamned outrage! Goddamn it, J.L., you goddamned dictator, are you trying to goddamn make us a goddamned Third Reich?" Congressman Morton 'Hoggie' Weldstan shouted.
"Congressman, refrain from further idiocy before I decide to detain you," J.L. said tersely, his voice eerily calm, almost atonal and emotionless.
"Well, fuck you!" Weldstan shouted, so furious he was in tears. Sobbing, he said, "Fuck you..."
The rest of the Congressmen were too stunned to speak. J.L. had simply entered the room, taken a seat, and said calmly, "Congress is dismissed. Permanently. Democracy is a cesspool which breeds tyranny by majority, setting the stage for communism. To preserve liberty and deter Marxism, I must assume full control of the political realm in RB."
Armed guards quietly and peacefully escorted all congressmen and senators outside. They would be forcibly retired, paid enough money to support themselves and their families, and never permitted to participate in politics again. Only Weldstan resisted.
"J.L., damn you, I'll have your hide! One day, man! One day!" Weldstan screamed, struggling to break free as two immensely muscular bodyguards carried him away.
"Hoggie, because you are being so difficult, I believe we may have to have you demonstrate what happens to those who refuse to obey," the Generalissimo said. He snapped his fingers, and the bodyguards set him down in a chair, tied him up, and left him for J.L. to deal with.
"Get the video cameras ready," J.L. snapped, and shortly afterwards, a cameraman arrived, and began filming.
J.L. stripped Weldstan's feet bare, removing his socks and shoes. He then took a hard, spikey leather whip, and lashed the bottom of Weldstan's foot, etching a thin, ugly red scar that bled profusely. The bottom of his foot was bright red, and Weldstan screamed so shrilly he sounded like a four-year-old girl. The Generalissimo J.L. proceeded to lash the bottom of Weldstan's foot exactly one thousand times. When he was done, Weldstan was sobbing like a baby, begging for mercy. His foot was drenched in blood. Smiling, oblivious to Weldstan's agony, the Generalissimo administered punishment to the second foot in the same fashion.
"Going to call insult me now, 'Hoggie?'" J.L. asked.
Weldstan rapidly shook his head.
J.L. grinned. "Didn't think so."
He took a wooden paddle, dipped it in a vat of hot tar over 400 degrees, and began gently painting the bottoms of Weldstan's feet with the tar, as the dissident congressman screeched, so excruciatingly loudly that windows shattered, the building vibrated slightly, and everyone within a two-mile radius plugged their ears, wincing in pain at the sound. When J.L. was done, he grabbed a crude, rusty, filthy wrench, and twisted each of Weldstan's toes backwards. Weldstan could no longer scream. His throat was so dry and sore he could not even make a sound. J.L. then ripped out of the toenails, one at a time.
"Get this loser out of here," he said, and the guards untied Weldstan, dragged him away into a black van with tinted windows, and sped away.
He was never seen again.