continued

"Hey?" Snipe said, slightly disturbed. "Didn't know you liked video games."

"Er, actually, I was thinking-"

"Yeah? I was too." Snipe said smart-assedly, sort of off-put by the sudden appearance of Potpourri. "Even though all the movies right now suck, and the restaurants all suck too." His tone was harsh, and Potpourri shrunk away slightly.

Snipe sighed. "Sorry. I just had a random hallucination, and I didn't exactly...well, I say the only thing I can think of is to go to the Civilian Protection place and see if they have anything to do."

"Mm. I guess we can do that...would that be considered...a date?" Potpourri said hesitantly.

Snipe was flustered. "I guess, if you want it to be."

Snipe etered the door to the CP Headquarters. A sign up poster decorated one side of the lobby, which was filled with names.

"If you would like to sign up, sign that poster over there with your phone number. We'll call you when we want you to move here." said the receptionist. Snipe looked down at his street clothes and sighed heavily.

"I'm not signing up. I'm already in the military."

"Oh, I'm sorry." the receptionist said in a bored, dishonest tone. "I'm guessing she is, too?" referring to Potpourri standing behind Snipe.

Snipe ignored the question. "Are you guys doing anything interesting? Movies? Video games? Shooting Range?"

The receptionist stacked a set of papers. "Some people are in the hallway. I don't know what they're watching. Could be a skin flick for all I know."

"Alright, thanks."

"Just doing my job..." the receptionist said in a fading voice as Snipe strode down the hall, Potpourri behind him.

Snipe opened the door to a dark room with a single TV in it. The television showed a blue, blank screen.

"Potpourri, you think it's in another room?" Snipe said, confused.

"No." she said in a serious manner. "Look." She walked over to a peson lying slumped back in the sofa. He was dead, his face plugged with about three rounds. His hands were positioned in a masturbatory position. His genitals were under a blanket, thankfully, but it proved the receptionist had been right. Idiots watching porn. Another seemed to have been shoved into the couch cushions, but when Snipe tried to move him, the body fell away, half of a person.

"I am sorry for the mess, but you didn't give me any time to clean up."

Snipe stiffened. "So you weren't satisfied with your acts when we last met?"

"No," Michael said, crouching on his puppet's back as it creeped out of the shadows, "I wasn't satisfied with who I bagged."

"Well, you aren't gonna bag me." Snipe said, "We've got a fair fight now."

"Fair fight my ass." Michael snorted. "Grunts have varying skill and almost none are a match for me. No, I went after your oh so invincible sergeant. He's quite a head case."

"You're quite the head case, yourself." Snipe said.

"Heh, that's-"

Potporri had gotten behind him and slid over his shoulder. She held a grenade in front of his face.

"Oh, how big and strong you must be!" She taunted, dextrously twirling the grenade by its ring. "I've always wanted to know somebody who could survive a direct blast from a grenade!"

Snipe thought she had him. He was wrong. An invisible heat wave caused Potpourri to suddenly yelp and jump off, landing in a very clumsy manner. Snipe drew his sidearm and shot at Michael. Michael, without looking, caught the bullet in his hand. Flicking his wrist, a wave rippled down his marionnette manipulator, and the massive leopard pounced onto Snipe, crushing his sidearm in its jaws. It pinned Snipe's hands and feet, baring its fangs and exhaling dusty, humid breath into his face. Snipe furiously bit it on the nose. The beast decided to crack Snipe's face. Snipe's vision went blurry as blood began to trickle into his eyes.
As the leopard put on of its massive paws on his head, he feebly looked over at Potpourri. Michael had given her a a long cut with his saber, but it must have been shallow since it did not impair Potourri's flexibility or movement.

Potpourri rolled away from Michael's next slash. Michael growled with mock frustration, then picked up the couch and threw a curve at Potpourri, hitting her in the chest with the end of the furniture. She was instantly knocked on her ass, and the spin of the couch made sure that in half a second she was on her back. The couch embedded itself in the wall with a loud THRUCK. Potpourri exhaled heavily, groaning.
Michael calmly walked over to her and impaled the sword into the floor next to her throat. He drove the sword further until the hilt began to crush part of Popourri's neck.

He knelt next to her and said, "I dont care how cute your little frame might be, how thick your mahogany hair is, or how pretty your big pink eyes are. If you stand in my way of Snipe ever again, I will stick you just like I stuck the floor next to you."

Michael got up and went to the center of the room, observing Snipe and Potpourri's pinned states.
"An important lesson, students, it is impolite to interrupt somebody when they are speaking."

...

"So you trap Sarge in your little mansion world, whatever the fuck that is, then let us bring him back?" Snipe sputtered, trying to lift the Puppet's paw off of his head with his free arm.

"I don't understand..." gasped Potpourri, not making any futile effort to free herself.

"It's simple." Michael continued, as if he were presenting a science project. "His conciousness is in a mansion built around the plan of itself. There, he can observe all of his flaws, troubles, and other things."

"Alright..." Snipe said, already tired from getting his ass kicked, he didn't need his brain bent.

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