Operation Phoenix: Playhouse


My 'house'
Outside Gainesville, FL

Fisher was having Genuine Fun[tm](sarcasm) today. First he had gotten a 
flat tire, then he had had a .45 stolen from his front seat, and now he 
had been arguing and trying to force the AI of his into the CRAIT he had 
just gotten.

"Goddammit, get in the thing, its not that hard, you already know how!"
"No, it wil be too cramped in that little box!"
"No, it wont, you dont know anyway, because you havent tried it out!" he 
spat angrily.
"I'll try it once!" yelled Paul, the AI.(who would frequently screw up 
docs by putting his name as 'Paahl'.)

The AI transferred over, found the CRAIT suitable enough, and decided to 
stay for the duration. Fisher put the CRAIT in the concealed closet with 
the rest of his equipment and went to bed. 

He had slept for about a hour when someone broke down his door and 
started shooting up the place. He rolled off the bed, and grabbed the 
sawed-off 12 Guage from under it. By this time the attackers had made 
their way into his room, and were shooting. He raised up and blasted down 
an attacker and noticed it was wearing a disgusting green uniform and a 
ceratosian looking helmet. "What the fuck do you people want?" He yelled 
between shots.  "Our mistress wants your head on her dinner plate!!" 
their leader spat back, a split second before he was shot down. He ran 
out of shells, being as it only had four in it. He took to hand-to-hand. 
One beefy dude ran up to him and punched him(more like ran him over) in 
the face,  breaking his nose. Fisher was pissed, and beat the guy down 
with the 12 Guage. Another soon ran up and stuck an icepick through his 
calf.  "No one stabs me. EVER!!!" he bellowed at the offender, a few 
seconds before pulling the icepick out and depositing it through the 
offender's temple. One of them got smart and shot at him, making a nice 
hols in his shoulder.  "FUCK!!," he yelled, "That shoulder will NEVER 
heal at this point!!!"  The minion smiled, and was rewarded with a 
gunshot to the face. Fisher had picked up the .45 of a fallen minion. He 
then shot the remaining three as they stood there. 

After tending his wounds in the bathroom, he thought {When i killed that 
whore of b'harnii's, it was a mistake, now she wants me dead} His other, 
more primal side thought {So? Beat her brains out her ears, then feed 
them to her!}  He walked to the secret closet, and opened it. He reached 
out anr removed the 'linker from a shelf. "Shit! This is very fucking 
bad!" he rasped as he saw the display. It was lit up like a christmas 
tree, everything in a varitable traffic jam of battle around the globe. 
He had hjad enough of vacation anyway. He strapped it onto his wrist, 
then changed into his fatigues, becoming the more battle ready Mattimeo. 
He then pulled the assorted structures of his DeathCloak Battlesuit out 
and put them on. Around the waist of this, he put the CRAIT and then 
finished assembling the torso.  "Paul, interface with DeathCloak systems 
computer."  "Oh...all right, but its such a primitive thing!"  "Well, i 
couldnt fit a full AI onto it until now."  "You mean..."  "Yes, you are 
the computer for this suit Paul!"  "Good."  

After Mattimeo had Paul power up systems, he removed the old computer 
pack and walked through a wall. He looked at the built in 'linker display 
in the suit helmet, and figured he had better head for Texas and help 
some people there. He headed off after stopping to grab his .357, 12 
Guage and a few grenades. These he put in the cargo slots on the leg. He 
ran down the sidewalk, cracking it as he went.

Will our warrior get to Texas in time to be any help to anyone? Or will 
he be too late? Tune in next time, same Matt time, same Matt channel.

T/B/C

Mattimeo