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After the weekend in Vegas, Roland was flush with cash... Lots of it. He had won almost $1.4 million and was finding innovative ways to spend it. He also had a throat infection and a nasty little rash from the rather experienced blonde he had met in the hotel lobby after his win.
He picked up
his shiny new crocodile skin briefcase (with matching boots and belt) and stepped through his front door. WHACK! The sudden pain in his right arm caused him to drop the briefcase. As he went down and took cover behind a post he realised he had been paintballed with a dose of intracutaneous antibiotics.
The sound of tyres scrabbling for purchase and the revving of a powerful motor indicated the guy had got away without Roland spotting him, again.
Oh well, it was better than being stabbed in the butt with a hypodermic syringe on a crowded street, which is how yesterday's dose had been delivered. And it was a damned lot of fun, not knowing what was going to happen next.
[link]
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How about the day before, when Roland recognized the bitter taste of Amoxicillin in his last sip of coffee? |
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Hah! Not just antibiotics though. All sorts of drugs, even nicotine if you wish. |
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Nicotine by prescription?
The next day, Roland finds his dose of Viagra as been applied via a patch to the back of his neck. (No stiff neck jokes, please) |
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too late, phoenix beat me to it. |
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It's going to be pretty hard to sneak up on someone with genital herpes and apply that medicated cream the doctor prescribed... |
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Does Roland use payphones? |
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"the sound of tyres scrabbling for purchase" gets my vote. + |
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One thing about modern paintball, is that it normally involves high-volume vollies to hit a target ... could get expensive, and the patient COULD get over medicated, but I'm all about working for a service like this! |
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//It's going to be pretty hard to sneak up on someone with genital herpes and apply that medicated cream the doctor prescribed...// |
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I guess that depends upon the trouble they go to, to get you in a position where it can be applied without the applicatee suspecting that the applicator is an EPS operative. |
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Were you racing for the Viagra, [po]? |
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<Hehe> ... Tagline for our race team if we got sponsored by Pfiser ... Team Viagra - Race Hard </Hehe> |
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That would be The Niagra, surely? |
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"Why am I getting so sleepy.....? I really need to stay
awake to work late....what did the doc say?......need to
work less....not fewer, less......BONKclickclickclicck."
(sound of UB's head hitting his keyboard) |
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//Were you racing for the Viagra, [po]?// quite possibly! |
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Roland has Viagra on hand, most of the time, [po]. Be sure to drop in if you feel the need. |
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another time UB, considering his nasty little infections. |
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He'll be cured soon. Creepy, little perverts need love, too, y'know. |
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Perhaps he'll treat you to a banana. |
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Roland's anti-asthma inhaler had just run out. "No problem" he thought "as long as I don't get any sudden shocks which make me breathe heavily". Unfortunately he spotted that lusty blonde crossing the road in front of him and the symptoms started, fuelled by the panic induced by his lack of remedial medicine. Just then there was an audible swish as a crossbow bolt, laden with ventolin, smacked into his chest, piercing the rib cage and delivering the medicine right where it was needed. Relieved, he crawled toward the puncture-wound clinic mumbling a heartfelt thank-you to UnaBubba under his breath. |
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Launches medicated croissant dart at UB |
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