You are the self-proclaimed KING of the WASTELAND. Ever since the great BIG BOOM in the far off year of 2007, the world has gotten pretty nasty–ruins and mutants litter the desert wasteland all around you, roving bands of warlord kings and factions in all sorts of endless wars.You never did much mind, though, as you kept to yourself in your reclusive “castle” (a pre-BIG BOOM convenience store) with your friend and roommate, DUKE NASU, watching one of your 24 copies of SUPERBAD (2007) and pumping iron–that is, at least, until a demolition company drove up to your front door. You found out your castle was apparently on land that fell under the titleship of a “GUN KING”, who sought to evict you and bulldoze it into the ground. You took ownership of the demolitionist’s wrecking ball and drove out to the GUN KING’S castle to confront him on the matter.You managed to infiltrate his castle whereupon you engaged in one-on-one combat with the king, PANZER GRAAD–however, defeating him only led to the appearance of another freak, the “MUTANT KING,” who kidnapped your dear friend DUKE NASU to bring him to its kingdom. You need to get him back.LAST THREAD: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2021/5005718/
You stare at your palms, your wild lunge for the MUTANT KING’s throat missing its mark and leaving your hands bereft of neck to wring. Your mind races. You CAN’T lose DUKE NASU–he’s the only eggplant.. mutant.. thing in your castle. You doubt there are very many other eggplant mutant things around nearby to replace him with. You need to get him back.. track down that vagabond, and break it in two, and–“Ha! Serves you right, you gorilla hobo bitch.” You glance over your shoulder to see the GUN KING drawing himself up from off the ground, steadying his immense body with his GATLHAMMER. He coughs, his form bent but voice proud. “You got lucky beating me. But the MUTANT KING? That psycho is going to tear your pet eggplant up into ten pieces and then ram it down every hole you have. Then I’m turning your dumbass little castle into an EVO venue.”>Threaten to recrush his dick.>Actually recrush his dick.>Interrogate him. You need to know everything about the MUTANT KING he knows.>[Write-In.]
>>6334589Holy shit, four years later but we're BACK, baby!>Interrogate him. You need to know everything about the MUTANT KING he knows.>Threaten to recrush his dick if he doesn't oblige.
>>6334589>>6334599+1 to this
>>6334599+1Wew, miss this guy's art.
>>6334589>Actually recrush his dickReal gorilla hobo bitches go in blind.
>Interrogate him. You need to know everything about the MUTANT KING he knows.>Threaten to recrush his dick if he doesn't oblige.You grab the knelt GUN KING by the shoulder and press your forehead against his helmet, eyes narrow. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about the MUTANT KING. Starting with where it lives.” You snarl. “Or I’m button mashing whatever’s left of your dick into paste.”“Pah! Whatever. I’ve got spares–though, not much skin off my back if I let you in on a little, though..” The GUN KING mocks your threat, but you can tell you’ve cowed him well enough with his half-crushed dick to bend to the threat of a whole-crushed dick. “Fine. You want to know how I became the GUN KING, you little pissant?”“That’s not what I asked.” You cock your head.“It wasn’t because of my rippling, all natural chicken-and-broccoli based physique. Just look around you! Look at our capital! PARABELLUM!” He uses his free hand to wave to his capital city in a grandiose show of pride. “We have industry and commerce! Engineers and agriculture! Rollback netcode! THIS is a society–a KINGDOM. I was crowned GUN KING by the true WASTELAND KING because I had the makings of a king.”“Still not what I asked." You crack your knuckles.“The MUTANT KING.. the MUTANT KING earned its crown by might and might alone. Not because it’s a ruler. Not because it built a kingdom. That “king” is the only thing in the wasteland to have challenged the WASTELAND KING in combat and survived.” He spits on the ground. “It earned a spot of land east of here. The MUTANT KINGDOM. A shithole of killers and thieves–all the detritus wash up on its shores. The only ones who choose to live there are the crazy, the stupid, and the ones with no where else to turn. And the fast food selection is garbage. We're talking some bottom of the barrel Chinese food.”"Right. East of here, then. How much 'East?'" You glare.“About a couple days with a good vehicle by my reckoning. Doubt you’ll get there before the mutant king gets bored and decides to scarf your pet eggplant down with some parmesan.” He grins smugly. “And when you do make it.. the MUTANT KING isn’t much of a KING by my estimation, but it is a KILLER. We’re talking something that took on the WASTELAND KING. It’s going to turn you inside out and outside in again just for the fun it, GORILLA HOBO.”>Leave PARABELLUM immediately. You need to drive to the mutant kingdom.>Demand a driver. You can't drive the bulldozer alone. Duke Nasu handled that.>Crush GUN DICK anyway.>Check inventory.>[Write-In.]
>>6335126>Don’t crush GUN DICK…>TWIST GUN DICK>Leave PARABELLUM immediately. You need to drive to the mutant kingdom.
>>6335138+1>>6335126
>Don’t crush GUN DICK…>TWIST GUN DICK>Leave PARABELLUM immediately. You need to drive to the mutant kingdom."Hmph.. good enough. Your dick can stay intact." You glance down to the GUN KING'S barrel’s end. "Well, mostly.""What--?" The king has just enough time to question your awesome threat before you reach down and give his parts a twist (not like a sexy twist, more like a counter-clockwise twist).You part from the gun king’s capitol to his screams, crows flying and guncubines parting as you take your leave.[...]You eye up the GOLD WRECKING BALL, your vehicle of choice for getting from your CASTLE to PARABELLUM. You had DUKE NASU drive you out here–he’s always had a knack for machines. You–.. not so much. But, with him in the fell clutches of the MUTANT KING…You suppose you could risk driving out yourself, but you can’t say you’d get too far (and may even endanger your ride). Or, you could duck into the city to find a driver with a proper cert for heavy machinery.. but you doubt you could place much trust in any one of the GUN KING’S pissants.>Risk the drive yourself.>Grab someone to drive you out instead.>Check inventory.>[Write-In.]
>>6335618>Grab someone to drive you out instead.We are a fucking KING, we can't be seen driving ourselves around like some prole, so we have every right to snatch ourselves up a chauffer.
>>6335618>Grab someone to drive you out instead.What >>6335694 said. We can intimidate them into compliance.
>>6335618>Grab someone to drive you out instead.Don’t think we have our license
>>6335694>>6335697>>6335970>Grab someone to drive you out instead.You are a KING. You cannot be seen driving yourself around like some prole--no, you need to FIND a prole to go about driving yourself around. Your eyes narrow as you turn from the heavy machinery. You need to find some lump, easy to push around, small enough for you to overshadow.."Ah! There it is." You hear a voice shout. "Drive her up here, boys!"You look up to catch sight of an assemblage of construction equipment slowly barreling through the desert, steamrollers and bulldozers and cranes, led on by a handful of mutants in neon yellow and green construction wear. The man at the head is some kind of radish mutant--a lump of a man, easy to push around and small enough for you to overshadow."Oh, hey. You're still here, lady. Trying to return the WRECKING BALL you borrowed, huh?" The soft boy checks his clipboard. "Right. Well, I'm willing to overlook the 25 GGs you took for that thigh massage you gave me, but I'm going to have to take the wrecking ball back. We don't have big golden wrecking ball theft insurance, you see.">Ok, this idiot will do.>Nah. Grab another idiot who will do instead. [Write-In.]>Actually, getting driven by a loser just makes YOU look like a loser as well. Ship out alone.>[Write-In.]
>>6335991>Ok, this idiot will do.so gg is the money we have rn, ok
>>6335991>Ok, this idiot will do.
>>6335991>Ok, this idiot will do.Dumbass doesn't even realize that feudalism reigns supreme. His funny money means nothing compared to the aristocratic power and majesty when the KING of the motherfucking WASTELAND gives you the privilege of being shanghaied into their retinue.
>Ok, this idiot will do.You can make do with lard lad here. “Hey, radish mutant thing.” You stare down at him, arms folded. “Get in the wrecking ball. You’re driving me EAST.”“What? You want me to chauffeur you, gorilla?” The plump foreman raises a brow. “Hmmm.. well.. it’s for the best that I drive the thing, but I really ‘ought to get her out to our next contract. We have a church to bulldoze to build a barcade, so..”“I was not asking. You’re driving me EAST.” You lift him by the leaves on his head, and waggle the soft boy around. “We need to make for the MUTANT KINGDOM. You know where that is?”“Oh, hey, the MUTANT KINGDOM, huh..? Well, I was planning on visiting during my break to pick up my MP3 player, anyway..” The foreman’s brow furrows. “Well.. I can take an early one, I guess.”Your impressive physique seems to cow the foolish radish into acquiescing to your command, sliding himself with a huff into the chassis of the machine. “Be back in a few days, boys!” He waves them off.You stuff yourself into the chassis of the ball right behind the boy as you tread–very, very slowly–into the desert horizon, the golden wrecking ball swinging and glimmering in the midday sun.[...]Your trek bears your EAST, the ride slow and arduous and not at all helped by the dumbass lard you’ve ordered to drive you out.“So.. you got a name, GORILLA?” The foreman glances back to you. “My name’s LUB MOOLI. You know, like MOOLI CONSTRUCTION. See, I’m not actually the owner, though. That’d be my oldest brother, COLERIDGE MOOLI III. He got me a job out here after my jeep tour business–”“I do not care. The last one didn’t talk so much..” You fold your arms and recline into your seat, head laid against the glass of the machine as you do your best to ease your nerves.. at least, until something falls into your eyeline. “..Hey. LUB. Stop here.”You lean out the window. An immense TANK sits outside of the machine, sitting close to the outskirts of PARABELLUM. Is it empty?>Shout at it.>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.>Order LUB to go look at it.>[Write-In.]
>>6336350>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.
>>6336350>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.it's propably fueless, but still
>>6336350>>6336401Oh, and>drag LUB with usYou ain't driving off without us, punk.
>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.>drag LUB with us"Right. Let's check this out. Might make for a smoother ride." You kick the door of the machine open and eject yourself from the seat, heels ground into the hot desert sand. "Lub, come with me. I can't have you running off in the wrecking ball.""I would never! And by that, I mean I can't. The top speed of this thing about on par with a jog for you." The mutant heaves a low groan as he steps onto the sand. "Oh man, is it hot. I should've brought a DR. THUNDER or something..""Quit complaining. Duke Nasu didn't complain this much.." You grunt, leading your retinue out over to the tank. The war machine is quite sizable, sand threaded treads sunk into the desert, olive paint worn and scratched by dust storms. You note some tread marks behind it, though--it appears to have been driven here recently..You halt in your step as, with a low metallic creak, the hinge of the tank kicks up. You ready your fist as a figure emerges--tall and dark, clad in camo underwear and green cargo pants, a rocket launcher laid atop her shoulder with a bayonet affixed to its end. You get the sense her strength is IMPRESSIVE--maybe not as much as yours, but not too far. Another GUN KINGDOM mook..?"Hey. Welcome to GUN RUNNER'Z." The tall woman greets you. "The premiere traveling wares shop of the wastes. I'm GUN RUNNER. You looking to buy? Oh. What's up, Lub?""Hi, GUN RUNNER." Lub waves from next to you.>Fine. Let her show off her goods.>How does Lub know her?>Something about her strikes you as familiar..?>Back off. You can't be trusting random traveling wares shops like that.>[Write-In.]
>>6336703>Fine. Let her show off her goods.hehe
>>6336703>Ask her about the story behind her bat wing? shoulder tattooAn unusual tattoo is very important for the VAN LIFE (armoured tank life?) influencer mindset
>>6336703>Something about her strikes you as familiar..?Did you run a bee MHA quest?
>>6336703>>6336853>"show off her goods..."also marvel at the advanced technology of her strapless antigravity breast harness
>>6336703>Fine. Let her show off her goods.>Ask her about the story behind her bat wing shoulder tattoo and strapless breast harnessher technology is truly impressive.
>Fine. Let her show off her goods.>Ask her about the story behind her bat wing shoulder tattoo and strapless breast harnessYour brow furrows--a traveling shop..? Well, it's no ride, but you may be willing to exchange GG for goods and services. "Fine. Show me what you got.""Gotcha. Anyone who pals around with Lub is good in my book." The vendor grins, pulling some camo cloth from her cargo pants and setting it on the ground--with a thwack, she empties the contents of her rocket launcher onto the fabric. "Take your pick.""..There's no guns. Your shop is called GUN RUNNER'Z." You mutter. "Right. I used to only sell guns, but our supplier cut us off, so.. now I just sell random crap I find." She shrugs. "The name stuck.""Uh huh. What's the story with your tattoo?" You idly ask as you examine the cover of COD 3. The soldier does look pretty cool.."The tattoo is, like.. a cool looking skull. Nice, right?" GUN RUNNER flexes, distorting the image of the skull. "I think it looks badass.""Uh huh." You try to stop staring at her mystery bra strap. It's there, just thin.>She strikes you as really familiar. Do you know her from somewhere?>Select an item to buy. [Write-In.]>Check inventory.>Back out.>[Write-In.]
>>6336910Yeah, I ran one a while back.
>>6336350>Step outside. Perhaps you’ve just found yourself a better ride.Grand theft tank
>>6337006>>6337006ah, I see it now, the tattoo is indeed a sort of skull made out of bat wings. Very clever Rorschach test!>inspect the MRE pack to see if it incorporates one of those self-heating military ration food packages, in which case potentially the magnesium powder used to produce the exothermic heating effect might be useful as an improvised incendiary>Vehemently argue that Call Of Duty 3 was not that bad, the Sten gun and Lee-Enfield rifle with the 2x 5 rnd stripper clip reload were both relatively satisfying(also, I see now that the breast harness strap possessed such a superlative camouflage pattern, it was almost entirely invisible at a distance, excellent camo)>ask where her GUN SUPPLIER can be foundso desperate for some actual guns in the wasteland
>>6337006>Select an item to buy. [Write-In.]Grab an MRE, hopefully she has a burger one, and whatever we don't eat we can trade.Also, flex our pecs with our new muscle friend.
>>6337019Little late, anon.>>6337030>I see now that the breast harness strap possessed such a superlative camouflage pattern, it was almost entirely invisible at a distance, excellent camokek>>6337006>buy MRE and bayonetWe can replenish our supplies when we defeat and loot the home of the Mutant King. The bayonet is a good buy because, if nobody sues them, nobody will know how to defend them! The MRE is a good buy because borgerusing it to improvise a weapon is a neat idea, too
So is Greenhorn never ever? Just tell me now so I can get over it, please.
>>6336910>Did you run a bee MHA quest?wazzat ?>>6337006Buy CoD3 & bayonet
