(OOC: I just love to write! This is a good vent from reality, and the different writing styles seem to just...fit here. I dunno!)
Jeuda's jaw dropped as JR rode off on a spaceship at the speed of light, it looked like. Why didn't he think of that? There went all his feeling of originality by suggesting public transportation. Jeuda's wad of money suddenly drooped when he realized this was not actually a bus, but instead a cardboard cutout that "looked so real," a la Rocko's Modern Life reference. The flat cutout of the bus suddenly fell over, landing with a dull clank and kicking up a cloud of dust on the desert road.
He watched as people went through different dangerous paths just to get to one common goal: destroy evil.
Then he wondered: roll a die to determine his fate? Should he roll a die or should he actually hold his own fate in his own two hands?
"This is going to be hard...heh," Jeuda voiced aloud. "Fate choosing without a die is quite the challenge and change. Something I'm not used to."
Rubbing his chin in thought, he added, "I wonder who else wishes to assist us stop this evil?"
In the distance, he could see an Ahnold Schwarzenegger look-alike shooting at the moon with a huge AK-47, fully loaded with various other heavy weaponry that will never see use other than to make him look like a badass. Sound became muted as Jeuda took in the sight of a huge 18-wheeler coming up on the jacked man, and before he could act on the want to want to do anything to do something to help, the wheeler smacked the humongous man straight into the moon at which he was shooting, burning him up in the burning moon's burning burn field. Did I mention it burned?
He turned his eyes to a newcomer approaching this crazy and chaotic world, and simply nodded a greeting as he suddenly realized that MM went down a forest path that was, no doubt, dangerously retardedly dangerous!
"Afternoon to you, new friend!" he called out to the new man, apparently Nitsua. "We're about to board a bus, and an Ahnold clone just got hit by an eighteen wheeler! Want to join me in crossing the street to that eerily abandoned bus station?"
Nodding in the direction of the bus station across the street, there seemed to be crowds of greening undead lurking about inside the building. But behind that building, in the station's parking lot, were a bunch of functioning buses more than capable of traveling long distances, and one with an auto-pilot to NASA down in Texas...an anagram for Taxes.
"All we need to do is fight our way through undead."
Come for the action, stay for the story!