Myocardial Infarction Round 2 - Untitled

Here begins Round 2 of the wonderful game introduced to us by @Dave. (Round 1 can be found here.)

If you want to know the rules or have any questions about how this works, see the rules thread. This is the story thread. Accepted story pieces will appear in yellow and this post will link to and summarize each chapter as they are written. Below is the current outline of the story.


Outline
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Authors
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Text
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Note: @Xenoe's house rule applies here:

You cannot vote for your own beginning entry (this is to prevent a tie because everyone voted for their own entry). Thus, in the case that you like your submission the most, vote for the 'next best' one.

I will take the initiative.

Author: Chillary Flinton

“¡No! ¡Amigo! ¡You don’t have to do this!” A stocky, heavily mustached Latino man desperately held back his taller, well-muscled buddy by the forearm.

“No. I must, mi amigo. Other people might afraid, but I am not. Those pigs killed mi hermanos when they were just taking a stroll by the border, when they were just little innocent ninos. ¡If there is nobody that will uphold justice, then I will be the one!”

The taller man gave his friend a look of determination, before ripping his arm free and getting into his old 1978 Ford F-150 pickup. A nuclear bomb sat in the trunk, the blood-red sunset gleamed off the “Made in North Korea” label as Jose sped off towards the north.

Just twenty-three miles away, a blonde border agent, sporting a confederate flag bandana, handlebar mustache, and Ray-Ban shades, looked out from behind the crenellations of a magnificent thirty foot tall wall, flanked by two glaring marble busts of his president.

It was a slow job ever since they installed that anti-personnel minefield at the base of the wall, but there was still the occasional foolhardy fellow that ventured close enough to be considered a trespasser.

As the agent began fantasizing about defending his cou

Here's my entry

Author: Scaramouche

Skye shuffled into Church, wondering-let’s say she really was possessed by demons-if Christ’s protection would make her feel any better. A wave of freezing air bit right through her mostly-glitter dress and numbed her thumping headache to a mild pulse.

A bump resounded through the pews, and Father Patrick scrambled to his feet from behind the lectern, knocking over an empty bottle as he rose. “Abigail?!” he said, still shaking off his whiskey-induced stupor. “By St. Abel’s left nut, I told you I don’t swing that way.”

“I, I think I’m po-UGH,” Skye said, collapsing, as the fire in her loins rose to a fever point. She dumped the contents of her handbag on the ground, snatched up the vibrator remote, and shuddered as a wave of relief spread through her body. She could barely hear it over Patrick’s hurried footsteps, but there was a quiet dripping from her thighs, almost in time with the heaving of her hips. The phantom lust slowly seeped away.

“Child,” Patrick said, looking more serious than she had ever seen him, “you’re possessed. Did you see a demon?”

Skye struggled to catch her breath. “I think so. He was perfect last night. And I felt great until the morning. All he left was this card:”

白眉神

Author: Ken Montgomery

“According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyways. Because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.”

Jack Ryan waited as the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, his radio sitting useless on his desk. All communication from the outside world had ceased several hours before. It was only a matter of time until they arrived.

The marine leaned back in his chair as his eyes traced one of the many cracks in the cement wall nearby. He had been expecting this for years, ever since that goddamn trial. Too bad the higher-ups had their heads stuck too far up their asses to listen to him. They had arrogantly assumed that humanity’s position was fixed at the top of the food chain. They were wrong.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a faint buzzing sound coming from outside.

Shit.

He had a feeling that his gun wasn’t going to be of much use here. His eyes scanned over the room before settling on a copy of Italian Vogue peeking out from one of his desk drawers. The marine picked it up, rolling it up into a sort of fan shape.

Mamma mia, that sure is a lot of pages...

Author: Vince Gilligan

It was two weeks since the cucco incident, and I was just starting to recover. The red potion really does miracles, but it tastes like a Goron's backside and costs more silver rupees than I see in a month. I spent the morning sweeping feathers out of every nook and cranny in the farmhouse, just a small part of the compensation the old man demanded. Looks like I was going to have to smash all the pots in the market, twice, just to manage the first payment. Not to mention the Deku lawyer's fee. No doubt about it, I needed cash - fast.

There was only one thing for it: I needed to move more Deku weed. I drafted a quick letter and sent it to my partner via the Postman.

"T: Meet in the Lost Woods, old spot. Bring the RV, magic balloons, and 'fairy dust.' No need to say more. - L"

I took a moment to sit down and think. This was risky, but there was no other way. I wasn't about to take handouts from the royal family. First order of business was to make the product, then the real work begins. It's been years since I've pushed weed, and in that time a plethora of rival cookeries has sprung up across Hyrule, stealing my perfect recipe. There would have to be a showdown with each of them to win back our turf. Not to mention all the ca

Those were all the beginning entries we were expecting, so let the voting commence!

I vote for Ken Montgomery

My vote goes to Bram Jaimi.

I vote Bram Jaimi.

I vote for Chillary Flinton.

I vote for Vince Gilligan!

Bram Jaimi wins!

Author: Papa Mars

a Twix bar. Even if he didn’t have lunch, he would always have enough money for this delicious biscuit, covered in caramel and dipped in chocolate. Jeffrey knew something that the other kids didn’t: when you needed a moment, you really could chew it over with Twix.

Jeffrey ripped off the Twix wrapper and stuffed it in his mouth just as the gunman raised his firearm. The gunman froze. And so did everyone around him.

Jeffrey ran towards the gunman, chewing as slowly as possible: he savored the sweet, chocolaty taste of the Twix bar; the gooey, caramel insides, and the crunchy texture of the biscuit. The gunman stood a whole two heads above him, and sported a muscular build. Jeffrey leaped with all his might and socked his foe on the chin, socking him once more for good measure. Hopefully when time resumed, the gunman would go tumbling towards the ground.

Almost out of breath, and out of Twix to chew, Jeffrey threw his whole weight into prying the gun out of the larger man’s hands. His big fingers would not budge, and Jeffrey’s overexertion caused him to choke on the biscuit crumbs that he had neglected to chew properly.

Time resumed, and Jeffrey realized with despair that the gunman was falling o

Author: Bob the Banker

(o)n to him, the gunman’s eyes stuck in two different zip-codes.

However, Jeffrey had been training for this moment for as long as he could remember, after having discovered his candy bar related powers. His reflexes quickly kicked into gear, and he ducked out of the way just in nick of time before the knocked out gunman landed beside him with a thud, dropping his weapon beside him.

“What the hell did that kid just do?!”

“Is he some kind of Super!?”

The other gunman were obvious in a panic after this sudden, unanticipated event threw their plans into a jumble, but he had enough wits left to level his weapon at Jeffrey.

Oh no!

Jeffrey hadn’t really expected this to happen in the heat of the moment, and was really in a panic at this point, but thankfully he remembered he still had the Twix wrapper in his hands.

I just need a bit of time, just a little bit! He thought, and the chocolate left inside of the wrapper was going to give him just that. He quickly stuffed the wrapper into his mouth, and felt time slow once again.

Jeffrey dove and grabbed the fallen gunman’s weapon, and unloaded the entire magazine into the guy who had a gun pointed at him, turning the unfortunate fellow into Swiss cheese. The others in t


I didn't count the (o) because it is a continuation from the previous post, just to make it easier to read.

Author: Honhonhon Labaguette
 
  ("NO)! Goddamnit Stewart! Stop slacking off. You slack off at school, and now you're slacking off at the art of delinquency. I've had it with you."
 
  The remaining "policeman" wasted no time while Jeffrey yelled at Stewart's fallen body, charging at The Skater. "You should really be taking me seriou-"
 
  The man's world spun as his feet were swept from under him. The concrete accelerated towards his face, and everything went black.
 
  "Geez Jeffrey, why are you criticizing me like this?" Stewart began dragging the unconscious uniformed bodies into the van. "I was trying to surprise the fucker while he thought I was down."
 
  Jeffrey sighs and starts searching the van. "I'm sorry, bro. Today's just not been my day. I just have a lot on my mind right now." He pulls a wheel of swiss cheese out from under the passenger side seat. The boys looked each other in the eyes. The boys had to move, and fast. Taking the batons, the boys run to the school’s cafeteria and smash open the vending machine.
 
  “Hey! What are you boys doing? I’m taking you to the princi-“ There was a loud boom as the cafeteria became a mess. Slices of swiss cheese splattered everywhere; to be more precise, the lunch lady splattered everywhere.
 
  From o