A fatefull Reunion

Mooch looked around, There was sand on one side.
Water on the other.

"......Where the hell" He asked. He looked around again, Desert and Ocean. "Coast....But where on the coast, GPS ON!" Mooch said to A.N.G.E.L.S.

"Ping you are in africa, on the coast of Egypt, nearest structure is a werepyre base, currently fifteen feet to your right"
Mooch looked to his left.
"Your other right"
Mooch looked to his right, Tribal huts made with metal, or somthing, how do you descibe buildings? Large square boxes that people live in because they want a sense of security wealth and peace. These metal box houses things was where the werepyres lived? This was almost as bad as Cages in Mooch's mind.

Note to self, do not make blood sucking dog jokes, they might rip your liver out.
Regrowing a liver is painfull.
Pain is bad.

Mooch scratced the back of his head, and thought about signalling for a couch.
Werepyres, Couch, Werepyres, Couch, Werepyres, Couch, Werepyres, Couch.
He couldnt make up his mind.
GOD DAMNIT WHY CANT I MAKE UP MY MIND!? Mooch thought violently.
He had no idea why he couldnt make up his mind.
"YOUR NOT HELPING!!" Mooch yelled at the sky.
Anyone within hearing distance immediatly looked at him on the beach.

And saw he was alone.
"Who the hell is that guy screaming at?" A werepyre general asked, using a telescope to see the crazy bastard on the beach.

Michael looked towards the general in confusion, then decided to see whats up. He pulled out a normal looking telescope and walked next to the general, extending it far past the generals scope .

"What are you talking about.... Oh.... Oh you sonovabitch... You've GOT to be kidding me! Mooch?" Asked Michael in a strained voice. I'm going to kill someone and knowing Mooch, its not gonna be him... he thought.

'Shall we bring him to.........." began the general as he noticed Michael's unnecessarily large telescope for the first time, "Shall we bring him to you sire?"

"No, I shall deal with him personally." answered Michael.

Mooch smiled, "I know exactly what to do. Ima dance a fancy jig!" Mooch commented raising a finger. With that he started snapping his fingers to a beatless beat, and walking and dancing at the same time. For the lack of constant beat the man had style, he knew how to dance.

He just really sucked at keeping a beat with anything rather then a gun.
He walk danced toward the werepyre base, without a care in the world.
Snaping his fancy snap.
Walking his dancy walk.


Fuck yeah, posts that make no sense.