BigJimsWornOutTires
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Each of the five crew members is given 96 hours of oxygen and one snack each. Probably three snacks for the chubby one.
What if the titanium turd got stuck inside the Titty ship? This would be plausible considering four wealthy fucks and a retarded millionaire with an obsession for cheap 'sentimental' game controllers. Wealthy folks have a compulsion of pushing things and people to their limits. And knowing how they show off, taking the turd inside the Titty isn't too far out there. Eh? Perhaps, the French pilot pushed the request, "Come on, guys, let's do this! We will be known as the ones who boldly went where no MAN has gone before, eh?"
And as we all know, the captain was indeed mentally retarded, thus cheap game controller? Of course, he would've agreed, "Fuck yeah! Let's do this!"
On their way inside, they got stuck like Chuck. So stuck, the turd couldn't release the four water containers that elevate the craft to the surface. Also, their sonar thingy probably got damaged from the jam. Ugh, right?
For the next several hours, they would think-tank a way out of this clusterfuck while the chubby 19-year-old is getting hungry. Oh, boogers.
The captain reminds them they have 96 hours of oxygen. The kid begins calculating in his mind. "96 hours for five people ... what if there were only two people? That would be 96 times three equals 288 more hours for me and Pops!" The kid stares at each one of them. He begins to hallucinate. The French feller manifests into French toast sticks. The British lad into fish and chips. The driver into a pizza with extra cheese. Mmmm.
As hours pass, the kid contemplates how to kill each one. Finally, he leans to his dad and whispers, "I'm going to kill Mr. Playstation. It's his fault. And knowing it would take at least a week to locate us, we need his oxygen." The dad enthusiastically bobs. "Get the others' attention to the window and I'll take him from behind." The dad nods once.
"Hey, guys, come check this out!" the dad says to the crew as the son whispers something in the captain's ear. The guys heed his request as the son and captain step to the back of the turd.
"What's this, Cap?" chubby directs his attention to the floor and steps behind him, and wraps an arm around his neck into a chokehold. He begins strangling him as the dad inconspicuously watches while keeping their attention on the window. The Brit hears the struggle and turns to see.
"Oi, lads! Now cut that out!" The dad wraps his arm around the Brit's neck and chokes him.
The French feller panics and buries himself into the window while covering his eyes as the two die.
Together, the dad and son attack France and easily conquers and kill him.
"Son, this isn't going to look good when they rescue us."
"Oh, well, I forgot to mention, we would also need food." rubbing his belly, the son said.
"Food? B-b-but," the dad looks at the deceased. "Ooooh, like being back in India."
"Bingo, Pops! We can feed on them until rescue comes."
"Okay, now this will really look suspicious when they find us."
"People will understand. And besides, we're rich, nicca. We didn't care what they thought before ... why should we now?" The dad agrees, and together, they begin slicing when suddenly, the son wraps his arm around Pop's neck and chokes him to death.
"Booyah! 96 more hours of oxygen and an order of lamb curry!"
What if the titanium turd got stuck inside the Titty ship? This would be plausible considering four wealthy fucks and a retarded millionaire with an obsession for cheap 'sentimental' game controllers. Wealthy folks have a compulsion of pushing things and people to their limits. And knowing how they show off, taking the turd inside the Titty isn't too far out there. Eh? Perhaps, the French pilot pushed the request, "Come on, guys, let's do this! We will be known as the ones who boldly went where no MAN has gone before, eh?"
And as we all know, the captain was indeed mentally retarded, thus cheap game controller? Of course, he would've agreed, "Fuck yeah! Let's do this!"
On their way inside, they got stuck like Chuck. So stuck, the turd couldn't release the four water containers that elevate the craft to the surface. Also, their sonar thingy probably got damaged from the jam. Ugh, right?
For the next several hours, they would think-tank a way out of this clusterfuck while the chubby 19-year-old is getting hungry. Oh, boogers.
The captain reminds them they have 96 hours of oxygen. The kid begins calculating in his mind. "96 hours for five people ... what if there were only two people? That would be 96 times three equals 288 more hours for me and Pops!" The kid stares at each one of them. He begins to hallucinate. The French feller manifests into French toast sticks. The British lad into fish and chips. The driver into a pizza with extra cheese. Mmmm.
As hours pass, the kid contemplates how to kill each one. Finally, he leans to his dad and whispers, "I'm going to kill Mr. Playstation. It's his fault. And knowing it would take at least a week to locate us, we need his oxygen." The dad enthusiastically bobs. "Get the others' attention to the window and I'll take him from behind." The dad nods once.
"Hey, guys, come check this out!" the dad says to the crew as the son whispers something in the captain's ear. The guys heed his request as the son and captain step to the back of the turd.
"What's this, Cap?" chubby directs his attention to the floor and steps behind him, and wraps an arm around his neck into a chokehold. He begins strangling him as the dad inconspicuously watches while keeping their attention on the window. The Brit hears the struggle and turns to see.
"Oi, lads! Now cut that out!" The dad wraps his arm around the Brit's neck and chokes him.
The French feller panics and buries himself into the window while covering his eyes as the two die.
Together, the dad and son attack France and easily conquers and kill him.
"Son, this isn't going to look good when they rescue us."
"Oh, well, I forgot to mention, we would also need food." rubbing his belly, the son said.
"Food? B-b-but," the dad looks at the deceased. "Ooooh, like being back in India."
"Bingo, Pops! We can feed on them until rescue comes."
"Okay, now this will really look suspicious when they find us."
"People will understand. And besides, we're rich, nicca. We didn't care what they thought before ... why should we now?" The dad agrees, and together, they begin slicing when suddenly, the son wraps his arm around Pop's neck and chokes him to death.
"Booyah! 96 more hours of oxygen and an order of lamb curry!"
