Quoted By:
Before anyone can react, you scamper off in the direction of the approaching vehicles waving your arms in the air like one of those car dealership decorations!
“Stan…” Ly murmurs as the convoy approaches you <span class="mu-i">well</span> above the speed limit, “what da’ hell are you doin’?”
You can’t deal with this crap if they’re driving around, you explain over the sound of your friends shouting behind you! You’re gonna get everyone to pull over!
“Aw cripes, I <span class="mu-i">knew</span> today was gonna be crummy…” Your skeleton groans as the big rig drifts along the dirt path leading up to the <span class="mu-g">VISITOR’S CENTER!</span> Leaning on the horn, the driver shouts something at you, but the roaring engines drown it out! Frantically gesturing towards the parking lot like an overworked traffic controller, you abandon your post when the skeleton’s truck follows your directions and skids onto the asphalt!
The scent of gas, gunsmoke, and scorched rubber fills the air as the truck and its trailer whip across the parking lot, knocking the few remaining derelict cars around like bowling pins! With an ear-piercing shriek, the big rig skids for a good five seconds before coming to a screeching halt near the back of the lot!
“What the <span class="mu-i">hell</span>, Stan?!” Asks Talbot as he carries Sybil over in the crook of his arm! Before you can answer, the truck’s pursuers follow suit and tear onto the road leading up to the parking lot as well! While The Marshal, Talbot, and, by extension, Syb duck behind a nearby overturned sedan, you stand with your arms raised in front of the approaching <span class="mu-r">APC CONVOY!</span>
“... Errr, they ain’t stoppin’, cupcake…”
You hate to say it, but Ly’s right…
“M-maybe they don’t see us?” Asks your skeleton in an increasingly-shaky voice. You’re standing in a parking lot in the middle of the desert and wearing a friggin’ <span class="mu-g">TRAPPER’S FUR COAT–</span> if they can’t see you then they shouldn’t be driving!
… also you <span class="mu-i">really</span> oughta change clothes–it’s bad enough that you wore this to the party last night, but now it’s the middle of the day and it’s <span class="mu-i">TOAST-</span>
“<span class="mu-s">GET THE HELL OUTTA THE WAY!</span>” Roars Pops as he aims his gun at the approaching vehicles! Whoops, right–back to reality!
What’s the play here? Do they not know who you are?
>STAN YOUR GROUND! THEY’VE GOTTA KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
>SCREW IT–LIGHT ‘EM UP WITH SOMETHING NASTY (LASER EYE? ROCKET LAUNCHER? SOMETHING ELSE?)
>GET TO COVER AND HAVE LY INVESTIGATE–HE CAN GO THROUGH WALLS, RIGHT?
>WRITE-IN!
