Albert Helfenstein's page

<Albert winks and rest his rifle on his thigh - very cowboy.>

"May your aim be true."

"Though I sit on the roof of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil...."

*BANG* raw: 1d20=16 *SHANG* *CLACK*

"...cause I've got my father's rifle..."

*BANG* raw: 1d20=9 *SHANG* *CLACK*

<Albert flicks the radio.>

"Hank you still got that boat? You may wanna get 'er ready for hasty egress, little buddy."

*CRACKLE*

"Hold your horses, Betty. Those aren't looking at us...."

<Albert chambers a round into his daddy's hunting rifle.>

"...not yet."

"Both boats. Safer that way."

"How about I head up there and have a look. I'll keep you guys in the scope. Good line of sight."

"You don't have a gun!"

"Fnck Hank, cut the crazy talk, will you?"

"Sayonara, brothers!"

“And was it you with the rifle? Thanks man,” he adds, nodding towards Alfred.”

"No problem. Learned to shoot hunting with my old man. Never thought it'd come in handy."

<Holds up his rifle... it has a huge scope.>

"Bighorn sheep. Rocky mountains."

BANG!

<Albert drops one of the dog eaters and gets onto his feet, grabbing the G3.>

To Mike: "Let's go kid, that's enough good deeds for today."

Into the WT: "Yup, over."

<Albert gets back on his feet and slings his rifle over his shoulder.>

<BANG>

<Albert cuts another round loose.>

"Caretaker of the west clubhouse. Old guy. Nailed himself in and got sick. We lost radio with him this morning and I been hearing... noises."

"There are a few nice ones in the sheds, the rest are all gone. The sheds are locked up tight, though, and you need to know how to start a boat without the keys.

See, the keys are inside the clubhouse. Eddie's in there, too. Don't think you want to meet Eddie."

<Trying to think of a smart ass answer while he lines up his shot but fails.>

"Bottom of the rope.

"There's a rope at the back. I keep it pulled up."

"Well, that's going to bring every zombie within a mile."

<Albert mumbles above you.>

"650 feet... west... 5 miles per hour... give or take..."

"Shutting the fnck up. Over. Ummm, is the chick as hot as she looks? Over."

Into the WT: "She's flat and acne ridden. Can you go buzz the runner, Hank, maybe pull him out, 'cause I think he's gonna be in the drink soon. Over."

"Hey, up there! We're healthy like you! Cut us some fncking slack! And help us!"

"How's this for help. Your friend is running toward more of those fnckers. Those fancy guns come with radios?"

Albert hisses: "They're on the landing. Over. Can everyone shut the fnck up for a minute? Over."

"Hey, you up there. I know you know we're here. You haven't shot at us yet so you must be at least semi-friendly. I'm Sam, this is Patrick and Johnnie. The guy running out there is Dave and somewhere in this God Forsaken Marina is Mike. How long have you been here and what's the deal with the guys on the boat out there? Are you with them or not? Any chance I can come up there for a chat?"

"I'd rather you didn't. Hanging out with other folks has been turning out rather badly. I'm covering your buddy in case you're wondering."

<His WT chirps>