Tall, Dark, and Loathesome

Diamonds Droog was pretty fucking pleased with himself, and not without good reason. Then again Droog was usually pretty pleased with himself, and pretty pissed off at everyone else; no one seemed to be able to live up to his, admittedly high, standards. This time, though, Droog had really outdone himself. He'd managed to get hold of Die's voodoo doll and had, of course, immediately pushed in the 6th member of The Felt's pin so as to get rid of him easily; this had transported him instantly to a timeline where Die was no longer alive.

It turned out that, in this timeline, it was Hearts Boxcars that was responsible for killing Die; this was confirmed by the fact that Boxcars was standing over Die's decapitated body with the man's crushed skull in his hands and a disturbingly pleasant smile on his face. Droog gave him a nod of approval, which was considerably more affection than anyone in the gang normally received from him, but the self-satisfied smirk that spread across Boxcars' face was completely intolerable. Just because someone as important and skilled as himself had approved of that lummox's actions, he suddenly thought he was significant or something! That simply wouldn't do. Smirking cruelly, Droog pushed in Boxcars' pin.

When he popped back into existence in another timeline, he was surprised to find that everything around him was absolutely destroyed. Boxcars was clearly dead in this timeline, but apparently so was everyone. The only thing left standing seemed to be English's vault. Crowbar's crowbar was laying on the ground, and Droog thought he knew exactly what happened. Slick, in some timeline, must have just gotten fed up with everyone's shit and pried the vault open; the temporal distortion from such an act could certainly have managed to level the mansion like this. Slick always was an impatient fool, he thinks. Well, opening the vault this way again couldn't possibly cause any more problems, so let's see what the fuck is in there.

He picked up the crowbar and pried the door open; as he expected, there was no evidence of any temporal distortion. The first thing he noticed was the copious amount of blood all over the floor of the vault, the second thing was the trapdoor. He headed down into the lower reaches of the vault, only to find Spades Slick, missing an eye and an arm, fooling about with some silly computer as he bled out all over the floor.

"What the fuck are you doing, you bumbling idiot?" he snapped.

Slick jerked around at his voice. "What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" he snarled in his customary fashion. "I'm fucking trying to figure out why the fuck there's a fucking computer in this fucking vault before I bleed out onto the floor because I don't have anything to fucking stem the bleeding because fucking snowman, the whore, took my fucking deck of cards!" He neglected to mention how he had thought Droog and the others had all died when the vault was opened, feeling it to be too 'weak' of him to think such petty things. That's why he was the leader damn it, he was fucking strong.

"You just going to stand there like a fucking pussy whore or are you going to come help me?" Slick growled, turning back to the computer.

"I don't see why the fuck I should, since you're clearly fucking inferior to me, you fucking moron, by why the fuck not?" he growled in response. He pulled his Deck of Cards from his inventory slot which was, of course, not a deck of cards at all, but his Brawlsoleum. After rummaging around in there for a while, he surfaced, his face a mask of pure rage. He grabbed the items that he needed from the Bralwsoleum, then pulled his Ace of Diamonds, which was in actuality his Ultra-Violence Cuestick, from one of his weapon slots and gave Slick a sharp smack upside the head with it.

He held up the bottle of fine hooch, his Moonshine (Jack of Diamonds), and one of his fine, tailored suits, and his eye twitched angrily. "You are not worth the expense of the shit I am about to use to fucking tend your wounds, you low-class son of a bitch," he snarled, shoving Spades Slick to the floor so that he could kneel on top of him. He poured a good half of the bottle of 100 proof Moonshine (Jack of Diamonds) over the open wound where Slick's arm used to be, smirking cruelly at the involuntary hiss of pain his leader let out as the alcohol burned and killed the infection that was likely beginning to brew in there. He ripped the tailored suit into long strips with his teeth and soon had several layers of the fabric wrapped around Spades' arm stump.

"There, you selfish motherfucker, I wasted some of my most valuable possessions to help your inferior ass. I'm hope you're Gogdamn fucking gleeful."

Slick protested loudly and tried to shove Droog off when he was pinned to the ground, and he hissed loudly when the hooch was poured on what was left of his arm. He let out small grunts when Droog tied the strips roughly.

"Well how the fuck do you want me to fucking repay you, you snooty motherfucking jackass. You want me to fucking stab you and ruin another of your fucking suits? You have like seven of the motherfucking things in your bralwsoleum, and its not like you fucking can't get more fucking hooch." Slick shoved at Droog's knee on his chest with a loud growl. "Now get the fucking hell off me."

Droog smirked and dug his knee further into Slick's abdomen. "And what if I don't fucking want to? What if I like you right where you are? You deserve to be there, on the floor beneath my feet, you low-class slimeball," he laughed. Spades' carapace was hard, but yielding beneath his bony knee, and Droog wished he could see the way the man's flesh must have been flushing as his body reacted to the inordinate amount of pressure being applied.

Slick growled louder in warning. "I will fucking hurt you you Fuckass!" he snapped, digging his claws into Droog's chitinous knee.

Droog scoffed condescendingly. "I would love to see you try, Slick. Between the blood loss and your... 'shorthandedness,' I don't think you could take me if you wanted to. But, please, humor me. Go ahead and take a stab at it."

Slick glared at him. "You are so fucking lucky Sn0wman took my fucking deck of cards right now. If I had a knife, you would be the one getting stabbed"

"Yeah, sure," he laughed, giving Slick another good jab in the abdomen with his knee. "And then I'd just bludgeon you to death with my Ace of Diamonds and be done with it."

"You never would have gotten close enough" Slick growled.

"Ha! You've got to be kidding. You're getting too old and slow, Slick. If you could let Sn0wman do this to you, then you could never take me."

"She had the ficking jump on me with her whip!!" Slick practically screamed.

"Sure she did, Boss," Droog smirked, leaning down close to Slick's face. "But do you think maybe you were just too slow to avoid it? I mean, Sn0wman doesn't even really give a fuck about you, Spades. I don't think she really went that far out of her way, or put in that much effort, just to rip your arm off."

Slick screamed in fury, thrashing and trying to throw Droog off of him.

Droog wobbled a bit atop him, but managed to keep his balance for the most part. He'd been expecting a reaction like that, and was prepared to hold his ground. "Oh, I'm sorry, did that offend your delicate middle-class sensibilities, Slick? I must apologize," he laughed.

Slick fell still, growling dangerously. Droog was just going to continue prodding the bear.