Leophael — Roleplayer Guild

Link nodded as he pulled himself to his feet.  "Hey, yeah, great meeting you all," he said as he began grabbing at the donuts.  He lifted one up and help it in his available hand.  "I really think this mission is going to go well..." he grabbed another and started cradling it in his elbow.  "I mean, how can it not..." and another.  "We are skilled as hell..."  And another. After nabbing about four, he seemed relatively satisfied.  

"Welp!  I gotta shit," he declared, his go-to phrase for graciously exiting a potentially awkward situation.  "See you all in a few hours."  With that, he pushed his way out the door before stuffing one of the donuts into his mouth.  As he walked down the hallway there seemed to be a little pep in his step.  Maybe it was just eagerness.  Or could it have been happiness?

Location: Blame The Beans Gas Station (roughly 1 mile from HQ)

Link parked his old black muscle car by pump six and left the engine running while he made his way inside to make a quick gas purchase.  He found himself at the back of an already established line with a wrinkled tenner clasped in his fist.

"And can I get three of the number nines and, let's see... umm... what else," mused the older gentleman at the front of the queue wearing an old navy blue baseball cap and pointing at a numbered roll of scratch off lottery tickets.  There were two other additional people waiting patiently in line ahead of Link ready to finalize their purchases.

"Oh god, this is going to take forever," announced the heavy set man who appeared directly behind him.  The man then shot Link glance and rolled his eyes dramatically, telegraphing his annoyance.  Link gave a small, almost non-existent nod of acknowledgement.  He didn't say a word, though.  Link hated lines enough as it was.  There was no need to add sass and negativity on top.

"No, no, not number two.  I said I wanted two tickets of number ten," the skinny grandad-looking dude explained to the cashier, his shiny eyeglasses nearly touching the bill of his cap.  Link looked him up and down and found himself a little amused.  The old fella was wearing a plain white t-shirt with a set of blue suspenders to hold up his jean shorts.  Tightly fastened around his waist was a belt that served the same purpose.  One way or another, this geezer was not about to let these shorts hit the ground under any circumstances.

"C'mon, Gramps! We ain't got all day!" The rude oily-haired fat ass, whose dingy wardrobe looked like it came from a garage sale, bellowed from behind.  The old guy either ignored him or never heard him as he continued calling out his lotto shopping list to the attendant.  "Dammit, they gotta stop letting people outside on their own after they turn 70," Fatty Scalesbane ranted through his greasy goatee, seemingly addressing Link.  The latter refused to engage.  He simply kept waiting patiently.  "They're so slow, the whole lot of them.  And don't get me started on their driving, you know what I mean, man?"  This time he gave Link's shoulder a tap, demanding the man's attention.  Link's level of agitation was rising.

"Sure."  The simple response was all he was willing to offer.  Finally the older man concluded his sale and shuffled to the store's exit with a healthy stack of lottery tickets shoved into the back pocket of the unpantsable jean shorts.  With that, the line moved up a body.  Only one person left before Link was at the counter.

"Look at him go," wheezed the chunky jackass as he watched the elder shuffle away.  "I bet that snail doesn't even make it to his car before I make it to mine."  Again, Link's shoulder was met with an infuriating tap.  "You know what I'm sayin', guy? Ha! I wouldn't even have to run!"  

"Iseriouslydoubtyoucouldrun," Link whispered under his breath.

"What did you say?" balked the jackass.

"Nothing.  Great joke.  You're real witty."  The customer in front of Link stepped away from the counter, finally clearing the way for him to approach the cashier.

"Hey, man, you got a problem?" Hefty Henry was clearly starting to get riled up.  In a fight, Link had no doubt he would dominate the guy, but who wants to have to deal with that?  Instead, linked moved up and tossed his ten dollar bill to the attendant.

"Can I just get that on pump six, please?" He requested. The cashier nodded and began to ring him up.  Having no need for a receipt, Link started toward the exit.  However, he found himself abruptly stopped as an open hand planted firmly into his chest.

"Yo, I'm talking to you!  Don't you walk away from me.  The fuck did you just say a second ago?"  He was nearly yelling at this point.  Everyone else in the little store looked on as if they were watching a movie play out in real life.  There were two ways to go about this.  Match the aggression, stoke the fire, turn this into an all-out brawl, become a criminal, get arrested, get a court date, pay money you don't have or get locked up for some time you can't spare.  Or... acknowledge that you'll probably never meet this poor excuse for a person ever again and diffuse the situation as quickly as possible.

"You're right, bud," Link finally conceded.  "Slow, inconsiderate, idiotic humans should definitely be systematically killed off so they won't bother the rest of us anymore. I don't think we need to wait until 70 though.  Seems a little too long for those types.  We can come up with a better number.  Hey, how old are you?  Doesn't matter, I guess. Welp!  I've gotta shit."

Link pushed the human bowling ball's hand off of his chest and made his exit toward the parking lot.  As he walked over to gas pump number 6, he slowed his pace down to a complete halt. 

His car was gone.  

As he looked around frantically, he heard an engine rev and then the sound of screeching tires.  He knew that engine intimately.  That was his car.  As he tried to find the source, the black 90s coup shot passed him.  Hanging out the driver's side window was an arm waving around a navy blue baseball cap like a flag.  Connected to that arm was the spectacled old man squealing with glee as he sent the gas pedal to the floor.  In seconds, the car was out of the lot and then out of sight altogether. Link just stood there in utter disbelief.  His brain could not compute.  Finally, he just burst out, "FUCKING OLD PEOPLE!"
Leophael Member

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