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File 136479678461.png - (20.89KB , 800x800 , 1.png )
503021 No. 503021 ID: 7cec11

'I am afraid,' mentions private Droth, as he mentions his fear.
Expand all images
>>
No. 503022 ID: 7cec11
File 136479679932.png - (24.41KB , 800x800 , 2.png )
503022

'Fear not, private,' reassured the gruff sergeant Kresh. 'Fear is for lady-boys. You're not a lady-boy, are you, private?'

'Oh, certainly not, sir!'
>>
No. 503023 ID: 7cec11
File 136479682453.png - (21.26KB , 800x800 , 3.png )
503023

'That's right, private,' said the sergeant, before delivering a playful, yet excessively solid slap to Droth's back.
>>
No. 503024 ID: 7cec11
File 136479685509.png - (17.17KB , 800x800 , 4.png )
503024

The lost soldiers stand in a vast, dark forest. Its vast darkness spreads all over the soldiers, like a malicious, mysterious butter.
>>
No. 503026 ID: 7cec11
File 136479699639.png - (23.18KB , 800x800 , 5.png )
503026

'What is even going on? Are we seriously in a forest? With actual trees,' asks corporal Rorg. Nobody answers the question, leaving the corporal to feel unappreciated in his role.
>>
No. 503027 ID: 7cec11
File 136479701241.png - (23.50KB , 800x800 , 6.png )
503027

Suddenly, the trio hear actual music blasting through the trees ahead. The music works its way through the forest, like a molester's hands inside the clothing of its victim.
>>
No. 503035 ID: f2c20c

>>503027
Find the source of the music. Possibly shoot it.
>>
No. 503037 ID: 35edd4

Shoot the trees first, just in case they're cleverly disguised bandits.
>>
No. 503038 ID: 7cec11
File 136480068495.png - (26.93KB , 800x800 , 7.png )
503038

'We will investigate it! We have nothing to fear, for we are the elite,' exclaims the sergeant. He flexes his muscles, causing his military singlet to stretch, and even rupture in certain weak areas. Much of the stitching of the modern uniforms was done by shameful slave-workers, who felt that there was no need for quality in their product.
>>
No. 503039 ID: 7cec11
File 136480070615.png - (26.14KB , 800x800 , 8.png )
503039

'Are you ready, Droth?'

'Not really, sir.'

'Good. On three: One... two... three!'
>>
No. 503040 ID: 7cec11
File 136480072796.png - (20.26KB , 800x800 , 9.png )
503040

There is a dog in the way! The soldiers do not want to shoot the gun while a dog is in the line of fire. It would look extremely bad for the twelfth military force if news of needless animal cruelty got to the impressionable and over-sensitive ears of the city's residents.

'Hey, guys! Wanna come to our party?' asks the dog. It is a talking dog; an unusual sight in this area of the world.
>>
No. 503041 ID: c6319f

That's no dog....

Kill it.
>>
No. 503042 ID: 0006f5

sure. hang out at its den
>>
No. 503045 ID: 7cec11
File 136480462455.png - (26.25KB , 800x800 , 10.png )
503045

'Sure,' the soldiers agree. 'What are you doing here?'

'The gang and I were just discussing knots.'
>>
No. 503046 ID: 7cec11
File 136480464370.png - (24.07KB , 800x800 , 11.png )
503046

'Ugh!'

Sergeant Kresh falls over onto his back, grasping at his pained chest.

'Droth! Droth, come here, quickly!'
>>
No. 503047 ID: 7cec11
File 136480473110.png - (25.54KB , 800x800 , 12.png )
503047

Urgently, the private cradles the fallen soldier on his lap. He holds his hand tight, and listens carefully.

'Droth,' the sergeant coughs violently. 'It was too much for me! Tell my wife, I lo- uuurgh.'

The sergeant falls limp in his comrade's arms. It is very emotional.
>>
No. 503048 ID: 7cec11
File 136480475081.png - (22.80KB , 800x800 , 13.png )
503048

Overcome with grief, the private screams to the heavens. If there are gods, they are as uncaring and cold as this evil world.
>>
No. 503050 ID: f0736d

They killed kresh! those lousy stinking yelloy furries, they killed kresh!
>>
No. 503051 ID: f2c20c

>>503048
You must have vengeance.

Kill them all.
>>
No. 503063 ID: 0006f5

youre clearly outnumbered, surrender while you still have your life. may they be merciful suiters
>>
No. 503067 ID: 35edd4

>>503063
Also, inquire more about these "knots." For the good of the city.
>>
No. 503070 ID: 57d82a

smite them all

with your penis
>>
No. 503072 ID: 7cec11
File 136480840890.png - (17.26KB , 800x800 , 14.png )
503072

The private's mind is filled with a thousand rampaging thoughts, then the realisation strikes him like an icy spear, or a bolt of lightning; an icy one:

THE ANIMALS WERE THE ENEMY ALL ALONG!

Droth is sweating like a dog, which is terrible because when dogs sweat, they become very smelly. The desire for revenge empowers him to take action.

He turns to the corporal, who is currently speaking to one of them.

'...and this is what I use for size comparison when I take photos,' says the bear, holding a can of carbonated drink in his hand. His beady, emotionless eyes glance over the shoulder of the corporal, meeting with the gaze of the bereaved private Droth.
>>
No. 503073 ID: 7cec11
File 136480842396.png - (17.85KB , 800x800 , 15.png )
503073

Panicked, the private grasps the shoulder of the corporal, to pull him to safety, but it is already too late.
>>
No. 503074 ID: 7cec11
File 136480843921.png - (19.63KB , 800x800 , 16.png )
503074

'What's wrong, Droth? I'm a part of the gang, now. Like my new toy?'
>>
No. 503075 ID: f2c20c

>>503074
No.
>>
No. 503079 ID: eaf2f5

He has been indoctrinated!
We are the only sane one left but we can't let them know or we are done for.

Swallow your pride and tell him that you like his new toy and would like to join the gang yourself. We must locate their leader and take him out.
>>
No. 503080 ID: 0006f5

needs cum lube
>>
No. 503081 ID: 7cec11
File 136481390886.png - (23.26KB , 800x800 , 17.png )
503081

>>503079
>We are the only sane one left

Droth, defeated by pure terror, and reluctance to use words like 'swallow' in such situations, shrieks madly. A piece of his sanity; forever destroyed.
>>
No. 503082 ID: 7cec11
File 136481394016.png - (14.87KB , 800x800 , 18.png )
503082

'Want to give it a try?'
>>
No. 503083 ID: 7cec11
File 136481398230.png - (24.83KB , 800x800 , 19.png )
503083

Lieutenant Droth jolts awake with a gasp. His bed and clothing is saturated with sweat. Under his mask, tears roll down his cheeks. He feels a lump in his throat as he replays the images in his head over and over again. Why did it have to happen to him? Why couldn't he have just died on that dreadful evening? That way, he would never be haunted by those tragic memories.

Happy April 1st.
>>
No. 503092 ID: 57d82a

R.I.P. Droth's dignity
>>
No. 503130 ID: 0006f5

darn !
>>
No. 503188 ID: f994d8

He is probably sleeping next to him, dildo in hand.
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