sixwordstories | (no subject)

You'll never believe this Plissken picture.

...that's not him.

The one on the left.

Couldn't be...

Man, I know it is him.

Oh, to be a kid again.

It was a good time to know him.

Who're you?

Bill Taylor. Offers his hand. The one on the right in the picture.

Taylor? How's life treating you? Hank shakes his hand with an alloy mitt.

Taylor, usually. Looks down at that mitt warily but smiles. The same as usual. You?

An endless cycle of kicks to the crotch.

Damn, yes, most of the time.

Snake told me about you.

Said you could think me up a moniker.

He's always talking.

Think up a name for what?

Well, I'm the Cyborg Superman.

You don't like it?

It's a little drab.

Uh... what do you want it to be?

Oh, I don't know. A little color, but still respectable. Like Deus Ex Machina, but...

A codename? Huh. Easier when you know someone.

Yes...oh well.

Good friends with Snake?

We've been through some things.

Then I'll get to know you... eventually. Once Plissken cooks up some plan.

Which he will.

In-evitability.

Which ones do you remember?

Which of what?

The things you've been through.

Most of 'em.

Anything in particular?

Eh.. been thinking about Fresno Bob lately. Remember when we found Snake in an alley babbling about ghosts and who knows what else. Was in bad shape.

What happened?

Got shot. What always happens to him.

Why? How?

Man, I don't know.