'The Dark Side of the Moon' Chronicles, Part 5

After realizing that we were responsible for the unexplained darkness of the night, we knew that we'd have to fight to the death. Our nerd calculated that if just two of us were left alive, the night would become light again. To give each other a fair chance, we all spent a week training and gathering supplies for our epic battle. It would take place in the destroyed town of Albuquerque, New Mexico, which we destroyed after deducing that the show Breaking Bad was so awesome that it had caused the night to go dark. We set up an electric fence around the town to prevent any escape and got to work preparing.

When the week passed, all 24 of us were ready. Some of us were more armed then others. I, for instance, had a grenade launcher and a rocket launcher, along with a Desert Eagle, AK47, and a Bowie knife. I also had four concealed pistols, two on each ankle. The nerd had a simple Luger from WWII. Our leader, who was from a poor upbringing, just had a letter opener and a glue gun. The poorest guy, Kenny, just had a bucket of boiling water.

We all hid in various places and waited for the alarm to sound before beginning our fight. When it sounded, I immediately rocket-jumped high into the sky and saw four men running around. They were sitting ducks as I launched grenades from my grenade launcher and blew them up. I landed on top of a fifth guy who had a pickaxe and slit his throat with my knife before depositing a grenade in his slit throat and running away, but not before taking his pickaxe. He blew up. I rocket-jumped again and saw our leader and Kenny in a heated battle. Kenny had spilled his boiling water on our leader, disfiguring his face, but adrenaline caused the leader to overpower Kenny and stab his heart a thousand times with the letter opener. Kenny was killed.

Meanwhile, as I was still in the air, two other men that had formed an alliance spotted me and started shooting at me. I took them out with my rocket launcher, but not before one bullet hit my left arm. The temporary battle with them had distracted me, and I landed on my arm which had been shot. It seemed to be broken since there was a loud CRUNCH.

My fighting ability was impaired by this wound, but I still managed to stay alive and keep killing my foes. Eventually, after three hours of heated conflict, only four of us were left: me, the leader, the nerd, and the big guy (the leader's 48-year old cousin that lived in his basement; he was armed with the decapitated head of Seymour Skinner, who we had killed earlier). The nerd and the big guy fought, and the nerd won with several well-placed Luger shots to the big guy's neck. He still had a large bruise on his cheek from getting bashed with Seymour Skinner's face.

Now it was just me, him, and the leader. We got in an epic battle. I rocket-jumped into the air, damaging both of them, and started shooting with the AK47. Both were hit numerous times. I then took out my Bowie knife and attempted to air-assassinate the leader, but he narrowly dodged and kicked me away. He slowly limped toward me, hoping to kill me with his glue gun, but the nerd jumped on him and pinned him down. He would have won, but his Luger was out of ammo, so the leader managed to kick him off and blast him with the hot glue gun. Me and the leader then got in an intense Bowie knife-vs-letter opener battle that culminated with me disarming him. He was defenseless and I had him at knifepoint. Then, all of a sudden, the nerd appeared from behind me and put me in a chokehold. I collapsed. He got off me and started pistol-whipping my face until it seemed like I was dead. It seemed like he and the leader were the winners, but I took out two of my ankle holstered pistols and shot them both down. The leader died, but the nerd had a weak bulletproof vest that just barely kept him alive. I helped him up, making it seem like we were the two winners, but I then pistol-whipped him, shoved my grenade launcher up his ass, and activated it, causing him to blow up in a spectacular burst of energy. I then remembered that we had obliterated all life on earth, so what was there left to live for?

I picked up the nerd's gun, put it to my head, and pulled the trigger.

Then I remembered that it had no ammo. I then had the brilliant idea to spend the rest of my life doing the Conga all around the world, which I did until I died of pee pee disease at the ripe old age of 420.

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