DMS - With a Side of Chips and a Soda

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(Disclaimer: The original concept of the PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia. Left 2 Die 4ever belongs to The ender of lives. Half Life: Full Life Consequences belongs to squirrelking. Left 4 Dead and its various properties belong to Valve Corporation. Danny Richardson and Laura Dukes belong to me. Thanks to Candescence for betaing. The following story contains violence, questionable language, and whining PPC agents.)

Danny shook his head in dismay as he skimmed through the text. “Damn Full Life Consequences,” he said. “Damn it to hell.”

Laura emerged from the weapons closet with an Uzi. “What was that?” she said as she strapped the gun to her leg.

“That ‘parody’ story, Half Life: Full Life Consequences,” he responded, making air-quotes with his fingers. “You know, the one with ‘because you are headcrab zombie.’ Ever since that story became an Internet craze, copycat badfics have sprung up for almost every game ever made.”

“Well, then you knew this was coming and so have no reason to complain.” She started rummaging through the weapons closet again. “What do you want? We’ve got shotguns, AKs, M-16s, pistols…

Danny sighed. “Yeah, I suppose,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, though. I’ll take a shotgun.”

Laura pulled a pump-action shotgun and a bandolier of shells out of the closet and handed them to her moping partner. “Of course you don’t have to like it. It’s badfic! If you actually liked it, I’d be ushering you down to FicPsych at gunpoint!” She paused. “Although I have to admit,” she went on, “there were a few things in Full Life that were frigging hilarious in how bad they were.”

Danny said nothing as he half-heartedly arranged the bandolier across his chest.

“What is with you and this mission?” Laura said as she tucked an extra pistol into her shoulder holster.

“I just don’t like bad parodies, okay? Failed attempts at comedy irritate me.“ He rubbed his temples in an exhausted manner. “Poor spelling and an encyclopedic knowledge of Internet memes are not substitutes for an actual sense of humor.”

“If it bothers you that much, just do what I do. Relax, take a deep breath, and focus on the eventual joy you’ll feel after putting a bullet into the Stu’s brainpan.”

“I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

* * *

Everything was good. But then zombies come! The zombies and militarys and police first fought but there were too many zombies. The zombies were keep comings and biting people and people became zomiibies!

“Danny, what the hell are you doing?” Laura asked. The two agents were standing on a crudely rendered building above a crowd of misshapen creatures. Laura could only assume that they were the ‘zomiibies.”

The blond agent had clamped his hands over his eyes. “If I can’t see the badfic, the badfic can’t make me suffer.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “What are you, four years old?” She pulled his hand away from his face. “Man up and read it! It’s just a stupid little parody.” There was a pause. “Besides, you can’t write down the charges with your eyes closed.”

“I can try.” Danny winced as Laura flicked his earlobe. “Ow! Okay, okay!” he said.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Laura said. “I’m here suffering along with you.”

It was scary, but everyone escaped! But there were peple who did not escapid! Those people were not left 4 dead but left 2 die….4ever!

“So, everyone escaped except for the people who didn’t escape,” Danny said. “It’s like a really stupid Zen koan.”

“You know,” Laura remarked after a thoughtful pause, “someone somewhere has probably written a Buddha!Stu.”

“Gee, thanks. I needed something new in my nightmares.”

Bob was a sandwich man that did karate and who was a soljur and killed Nazis so he could kill zombies easy.

The two agents exchanged a look. “It can’t be,” Danny said.

They looked down towards the street. Laura burst into uproarious laughter almost immediately. Danny just looked stunned.

“He… the Stu…” he murmured. “He’s a giant sandwich.” The Words had indeed made the Stu into a man-sized walking sandwich. Behind Danny, Laura was lying on the rooftop desperately trying to draw a breath in between her howls of mirth.

"Dam fukers I has no guns!" he said. But he went to gun shop and got a shotguns and uzis and a rocket launchers.

Laura was rolling around clutching her stomach, tears streaming down her face as she continued to wheeze in a most amused manner. “Swearing… zombie-killing… sandwich!” she blurted out.

Danny pulled the redhead to her feet and lightly slapped her across the face. “Snap out of it, agent!” he shouted. “It’s just a giant sandwich!”

“Okay… okay…” Laura managed as she calmed down. “I’m okay.” A huge grin broke out on her face. “Oh man, this is too good. A giant sandwich! I love this mission.”

They returned their attention to the story just in time to witness Sandwich!Stu fire his last round into the head of a rather unfortunate zombie. Laura pulled out her phone and began to take pictures.

"!" yelled Bob. "NOMOREGUNSBULLETS!"

Laura experimentally opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Nope,” she eventually said. “You can’t yell an exclamation point.”

So he threw the gunz and they eksploded because guns have gunpowder in them and they killed a hundred more zombies.

“Now, I’m not an expert in chemistry or weaponry,” Danny said as he scribbled on his notepad, “but I don’t think that’s right.”

“It’s science according to Michael Bay,” said Laura. “Awesome science.”

But then a chopper came in the sky. The man in the chopper said "We needs you Bob! You are the last hope for the humans!"

“Chopper?” Danny said distastefully. “It’s a helicopter. ‘Chopper’ is an element of dialect and has no place in proper description. The term is also too vague: it could mean a modified motorcycle or a Thompson submachine gun or—”

“Thanks Danny, I got it. Chopper bad.” Laura shook her head as her partner scribbled down the latest charge. Below them, Sandwich!Stu tried in vain to get a working car.

"I need plan, but cant think fast! I need pilz!" And Bob ate the pilzl and it made his IQ go to 9999!

“What does the scouter level say about his IQ level, Danny?” Laura gleefully said.

“No.”

“Oh, come on! You can’t not do it now, the badfic set it up so perfectly!”

“I’m not doing it.”

“…You’re so lame.”

SO he thourhgt supa fast and pored a bunch of molotovs which were made of super fuel in the gas tank.

“And then the car blew up because the super fuel wouldn’t work in an engine designed for unleaded. The end,” Danny growled. “Can we go kill the sandwich now?”

“Zip it! I want to see what stupidity happens next!” Laura said.

“Maybe you’re the one who should be escorted to FicPsych at gunpoint.”

"DAMN! THIS Car goes faster than sound!" and he rode on the road and the street went to fire because the wheels were so hot.

“Breaking the laws of physics… damnit!” Danny pulled a page out of his notebook and tossed it away. “I tore the pen right through the paper,” he said.

“Have you thought about seeing someone for that temper of yours, Dan?” Laura grinned as her companion tossed a few ripe curse words her way. “Wow! So much for Mr. Nice Guy!”

"DAMN! The zombiesz aaare ssttil cuming!" said Bob. "Im goin to bust a caps in sum biches!" And Bob did a sideflip out of the car and the car crashed and it smashed a bunch tanks and hunters and boomers and wiches and zombies vampires.

There was an itty bitty roar and Danny left knee suddenly collapsed as something hit it. “Ow! What the— oof!” The air was forced from his lungs when a mini-Tank leapt onto his stomach and pounded its tiny fists on his chest.

“Ah, this must be ‘Wich,’ ” Laura said. At the sound of its name, the mini-Tank let out another little roar and hit Danny again. “He likes you, I can tell.”

“Oh joy,” Danny said as he lifted the mini off of him. It clambered up his arm and parked itself on his shoulder. When Danny reached up remove it, the mini-Infected growled and increased its grip on his ear. Laura just smiled and took another picture.

But Bob got a scar from the police car so he went and attaked the zmboies to get to the choppa!

Danny snorted. “And I thought your reference was forced,” he said.

“Hey, screw you. That ‘over 9000’ thing would have been frigging awesome if you’d just played along.”

But it wuz taking too long to killz the zombies! So the only thing he could do was get the shots that made him go faster because there was a super chemical called Ajrenalin that makes you go super fast like the Matrix.

“I know, Danny. I know,” Laura held up her hands to stop Danny from launching himself into another rant. “Adrenaline neither works that way nor is spelled like that.” Her partner settled for more sotto voce muttering.

HE HAD TO GET to the Helicopter. So he ran but he saw a woman getting hurt by zombies so he took his knife and threw it and it stabed through 5 zombies and killed them.

“I don’t know about you,” Laura said, “but I’d find the sight of a walking sandwich with a knife a lot scarier than a bunch of zombies.”

“But you think the walking sandwich is hilarious.”

The redhead nodded. “That shows you what I think of zombies.”

Danny allowed himself a small smile. “They really don’t scare you?”

“Nah. I’ve got a zombie plan. If the dead ever rise, I know what to do.” Laura replied to Danny smile with her own traditional smirk.

“I assume your plan involves tremendous use of firearms.”

“Yep! Possibly some explosives as well. It depends on how much gasoline I can gather before the hordes arrive.”

"We have to get out of city or we die woman. Here's a guns."
But the zombies kept coming. So they had to runs away but the zombies were faster and they had no car to ride. But they ran and there was a wall and zombies were coming so they were about to dies wen Bob got the pillz.

“Incorrect use of plurals… wanton cruelty to the comma… hiding ‘pillz’ in Hammerspace…” Danny said as he noted the new charges. He tried to ignore Laura cooing at the mini-Tank still sitting on his shoulder like some horrendously mutated parrot.

"HOLD ON! My pils will SAVE Us! They give me ideas!" And Bob ate the pilz. "WE need to get to da CHOPPA!" So Bob ran and picked up the girl threw her up into the sky.

“Danny, heads up!” He looked up from the notepad to see that Laura had pulled the Remote Activator out of a holster on her belt. “We don’t want to miss our meeting with Stu the Sandwich.”

Danny looked the happiest he’d been since entering the badfic. “Of course not,” he said as he and Laura walked through the portal. “That’d be rude.”

"Shoot bomb down so I jump and go super high!"
The woman said "KK!" and she threw grenade and it exploded and Bob and woman went super high and landed in the chopper.

Rather than the safety he had expected, the Stu found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. The man wielding it smiled as he consulted a notepad being held by a miniature Tank.

“Bob, also known as Sandwich!Stu—” Danny began.

“DAMN! You not thretn me!” The Stu moved to kick off the assassin’s head, but halted when Laura leaned out of the cockpit co-pilot seat holding an Uzi.

“Don't even try it, lunch boy,” she said.

“Thank you, Laura,” Danny remarked, who looked remarkably unperturbed at almost being killed by a sandwich. “Anyway, you are charged with deliberately poor writing, wanton cruelty to punctuation, violation of the laws of physics, violating the laws of chemistry, violating the laws of biology, being ridiculously over-powered, misusing Hammerspace, creating minis, abuse of the word ‘chopper,’ annoying PPC agents, and being an abomination against nature due to being a sandwich that walks like a man. The penalty for all this is death. Any questions?”

“You can’t kill meez!!11!eleven!” Sandwich!Stu shouted.

“Sure I can.” Danny fired the shotgun pointblank into what approximated for the Stu’s face. Spam, American cheese, and white bread went everywhere. He fired several more times into the motionless hunk of food product before kicking it out of the helicopter. It plummeted into the burning debris below.

“Nameless bit character,” Laura said to the trembling woman. “You are charged with being a nameless bit character, for aiding and abetting a Stu, and for having a grasp of reality so thin that you have no problem with a giant sandwich.” She emptied the Uzi clip into the bit character before kicking her out of the helicopter as well.

The mini-Tank roared in victory. “The feeling’s mutual,” Danny said.

“See! You’re happy again,” Laura said. “Didn’t I tell you that visualizing thing worked?”

“Yeah, you were right.”

The agents watched the burning city in silence for a moment.

“How’s about lunch?” Laura eventually said. “I could go with a sandwi—”

“No.”

“Oh come on! You’ve got to give me that one.”

"I'm pretty sure I don't."