One Armed Bandit
Who: Trisees
Where: McDonalds
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"I've seen people standing in front of moving cannonballs with more of
a chance of surviving than me," said Trisees to himself as he stood
inside the head office of McDonalds. He had managed to access some
power to the fast food chain's CCTV by rigging up a bunch of unpeeled
potatoes and some stripped copper wire.
He was currently watching, from his vantage point, the whole of the
action that was happening inside McDonalds and outside on the
promenade. The Hive Workers were, luckily for him, avoiding all areas
of McDonalds. As long as he stayed inside the restaurant, there was
every chance that he would live out to see the rest of his life.
However, he didn't quite fancy being an 87 year old hermit with
abnormally high cholestral.
His chances for survival, should he take any steps onto the
promenade seemed to be smaller than microscopic, and he didn't quite
fancy being eaten alive by various insectoid creatures either. So he
was currently between a rock, a hard place, and possibly a greasy
death. Trisees sighed.
"There has to be some way out of here," he stated to himself,
rubbing his chin with a single hand. Trisees mused the almost ironic
hilarity of the situation. Here he was: brilliant, clever, three
limbed, totally deaf (no ears) scientist and he was against a
collection of large insects with a penchant for killing humans. It
was possibly a ten million to one chance of survival.
"If only I had two arms. If only I could hear. If only I wasn't
stuck onboard this frelling scow. Maybe I should have just let them
allow Shakespeare to take over, all those months ago."
He faltered.
"I wonder what the hell happened to that mornoic surgeon and his
equally moronic compatriot."
Trisees growled and looked upwards, hoping for some kind of sign.
He was pleasantly surprised when he noticed the large metal grating
situated in the ceiling.
"Of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner? The duct system is
conveniently wide enough for a body to fit inside!" Trisees chuckled
to himself.
Then, looking at the stump where his right arm used to be wondered
how on earth he was going to operate a blow torch with his left hand.