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Thread: Battlefield Flexicution

  1. #1
    Member HBlokkum's Avatar
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    Battlefield Flexicution

    "Bring him before me." the words came from the mouth of a dark skinned commander wearing a feather headdress and brown robe which was thought to be, not part of the USCM dress code. However, none spoke up, lest they be scalped.

    Two marines clad in dark blue fatigues threw the shamed marine before the feet of the native commander.

    "You, my child. Have disobeyed orders from command. This..." he trailed off as he casually twirled a tomahawk in his left hand.

    Then he continued.

    "Cannot be allowed to stand. Your actions were like that of the buffalo, charging headfirst into a dangerous situation."

    "What the hell is a buffal- Ow!" the prostrated marine yelped as one of his blue aggressors kicked him in the ribs with his booted foot.

    "You know what, I did what I felt was right! To hell with command, using us like pawns in their games. You know what, commander... Why don't you go and commit siouxicide!"

    The commander stopped flipping his tomahawk, and in one fluid motion put it into his side holster without looking. He knelt down on one knee and whispered into the ear of the admonished one.

    "You know, my ancestors have ways of dealing with those like you."

    "What're you gonna do pal, scalp me?"

    "Ah, no. I am not some savage."

    "Oh, fine then. Just execute me and get it over with!"

    "You are getting closer..."

    The commander in chief made eye contact with one of the blue marines and gave him a quick look. The marine understood this and promptly grabbed one of the folding chairs and placed it beside the prone defendant.
    The floored marine strained his neck to glance at the chair and pair of zip ties that were being grabbed. A couple of platoons started to crowd in around the situation that was beginning to unfold.

    "A battlefield execution? That's the same thing as a regular execution."

    "No." the chief muttered.

    "No what?"

    "It is... a battlefield flexicution!" he bellowed.

    Gasps were heard from among the crowd that gathered around this spectacle.

    "Strap him to the chair."

    The blue fatigued marines did so, as the one they dragged and zip tied to the chair began to laugh.

    "What the hell is that? You going to make me flex my muscles until I die of exhaustion?" he giggled.

    The chief took a step infront of him. His feathered headdress and flowing dark brown robes consuming his entire vision. Wafts of tobacco and a scent of strong fire water radiated off his chiseled body and assaulted the nostrils of the strapped marine who recoiled in disgust.

    The two marines who strapped the offender to the chair were used to this procedure, and so they put on their sunglasses and got ready to hold their captives eyelids open. The chief then quickly tore off his own robe.

    "Oh God!" one of the platoon members said.

    "Don't look directly at him" yelped another.

    "What the, A, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" the strapped marine screamed.

    The chief, was practically dripping. His Panthère de Cartier necklace refracted the light one hundred fold, blinding those who dared look directly at it. His Burberry Polo shirt, the distinctive tartan patterns assaulting his victims mind. His diamond encrusted Gucci Dionysus belt finishing the job of destroying any rods and cones that remained in his opponents retinas.

    "No.. NO!" He screamed as he struggled in vain to close his eyes. The marines did their duty and forced his eyelids open.

    "IT'S, AH! IT'S TOO TASTEFUL!" He shouted as blood began to slowly drip from his left nostril.

    Against his own will and wellbeing, his eyes drifted downwards towards the metallic gold Brunello Cucinelli pants. His eyes started to go bright red as all the blood vessels within them simultaneously burst.

    "NO! I-I'M SORRY! PLEASE! P-P-PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!" he screamed as he rocked back in forth in the chair helplessly.

    His eyes again drifted lower, to the special edition Gucci Aces with a Chinese dragon embroidered on them that enveloped his feet and he began panting, and gasping for air as he coughed up blood.

    "I suppose now I should put you out of your misery." The chief spat.

    The chief then flung his wrist infront of the imprisoned marine, as the other two holding him turned their heads, so as not to look directly at the most deadly of his bling.

    The refracted light off the double anti reflective coated sapphire glass on the chief's Patek Phillipe 5711/1A with the blue dial made his captors eyes bulge out of their sockets. Each white gold hour indice was like a hot needle in his opponents corneas.

    The marine was now foaming at the mouth and convulsing in his chair as blood dripped from every noticeable orifice.

    "The best part..." the chief muttered close to his ear.

    "I bought this at retail price."

    "N... No o-one, can b-b-b-b-buy them a-a-a-at r-retail!" he mumbled meekly through bloodstained lips as his body violently shook. The distressing realization that the chief did, just that, was something that his mind could not handle. A chain reaction of microscopic explosions occurred in his brain, the compounding aneurysmal subarachnoid hemorrhages worked their way down to his cerebellum.

    The chief then turned around and began casually walking away. It was as though everything moved in slow motion as he donned his Chopard sapphire encrusted sunglasses and the head of the marine strapped behind him exploded into a shower of gibs as the onlookers recoiled in horror. It was declared that on this day forth, the execution of any subordinate through the means of "flexing ones drip" was to be considered inhumane and a warcrime.
    Last edited by HBlokkum; 08-02-2020 at 05:08 AM. Reason: Patek doesn't "coat" their indices, they are made of solid precious metal. Sorry for the confusion

  2. #2
    Whitelisted Captain GenericUsername's Avatar
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    @Dreven become a coder and make this doable
    Nathon Stafford-Squad Leader/Captain aboard USS Almayer and Anti-Cadehug man
    Benedict-Synthetic here to tell you about our Lord and Savior Jesus H. Christ, sometimes killer of Queens
    Kahn'Ikesh-Blooded Hunter and great grandson of Gor'don Ram-sey
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    Whitelisted Captain Memesky's Avatar
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    Beautiful
    MP griefer Connor Anderson

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    Rumour has it that humourless forest found this funny...
    CE Charles Edwinson
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    Whitelisted Captain Fortelian's Avatar
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    There has never been a Blokkum story I did not laugh at. Someone needs to code this.
    Salvador Kepplinger - President of Andorra
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    Senior Moderator Big Cheeks's Avatar
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    Legit work of art
    SG Main Evie 'Stevie' Wynter/Crusher Main "EV-I3"

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    I'm just imagining this shit.

    https://youtu.be/LCjOKt1vv6E?t=60

    BRUH, best post EVER.
    Is an Ambidexterous marine and xeno main.

    GREAT ... AETHEEEEEER!!!

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    Senior Member kooarbiter's Avatar
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    Attention filthy americans, the union of progressive peoples has designated this air space to be a no flex zone, any violations of this proclamation will be met with our corporate backed anti air mcmissile battery









    I want off this sad ride, mister grim.

  9. #9
    Member HBlokkum's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by kooarbiter View Post
    mcmissile
    Lol

    5 chars

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