ODDWORLD: HOUSE OF ANGUISH - Joe's Idea
 

This is the first short story from the Rupture Farms Short Stories collection.

ODDWORLD: HOUSE OF ANGUISH
SHORT STORIES ORIGINATING FROM RUPTURE FARMS

PROLOGUE

Rupture Farms is an unpleasant place to say the least, and is, as everyone knows, the biggest and most dangerous meat-packing plant on Oddworld. Many mudokons work there, and many are replaced through death. Many sligs also work their, and like the mudokons, are also replaced through death, or serious injury. These are just a few true stories originating from the workers of Rupture Farms, pieced together by eye witness accounts, hard evidence and spoken stories.

hope you enjoy it.

JOE’S IDEA

“Many people, mudokons and sligs alike, hate me. I envy them because the only person I hate is myself.” – Joe.

Joe was scrubbing the floor with a filthy cloth that he had been using to scrub the floor with for the last two years. Not as long as Joe had been living in Rupture Farms, but still, long enough, hygienically. He was crouched on the seventh walkway up in the mincing section of Rupture Farms. The noise was rhythmical, and loud, and in a way could send you to sleep. Many sligs practised this, and so had many mudokons, but with the consequences later paid.

The mincing section consisted of a number of giant, iron circular saws attached to slender metal arms that ripped out the innards and unwanted, quivering lumps of meat and cartilage between the ribs of scrabs that moved along a conveyor belt. The ribs were being prepared for packaging and the innards and unwanted meat and cartilage was to be minced up and reformed as mince and pet food.

“Hey! You slackin’?” A passing slig barked at Joe without stopping walking, holding his rifle slack in his hands.

“No sir.” Joe replied nervously, and relaxed when the slig disappeared from view behind him, down a ladder to walkway six.

Joe resumed scrubbing. Scrubbing a dried on bloodstain on the steel plates of the walkway. Either meat, or murder. He dunked his cloth into the bucket of cold water that sat beside him and looked at his reflection on the rippling surface when he pulled the cloth back out, dripping water onto his knees.

He looked at his dirty face and pondered what it would be like to have a hot bath. He had never had a bath in his life, apart from being drenched annually by the orders of Rupture Farms glukkons when the time came.

“How you doin’ Joe?” A mudokon voice said.

Joe looked up and saw his friend standing before him, carrying a metal bucket of water and a black sponge that was originally yellow.

“Hey Crob, how are ya’?” Joe chirped, enlightened from the dull and dank work of Rupture Farms by this new event.

“Not bad, not bad. You mind if I work with you? I’ve done that burn on the wall down on walkway four. Needs re-plasterin’. Told a slig about it and he thought I meant the type of plaster you put on a cut! Dumb bastard.” Crob informed, then smirking at the stupidity of the slig he had spoken to.

“Heh heh, tell me about it. I don’t mind, could do with the company.” Joe replied.

Crob knelt down and dipped his sponge in the bucket of water. He then began to scrub the same bloodstain Joe was scrubbing. Joe flung his cloth onto the steel floor.

“How the fuck do they expect us to keep this place clean if they don’t even supply us with soapy water?!” Joe exclaimed suddenly, frustrated at the fact he’d been scrubbing the same stain for an hour and a half.

He rubbed his head.

“Calm down, Joe. We’ll be back at the hole before you know it, relaxing.” Crob said calmly.

“Yeah well,” Joe answered, “I’m getting a bit pissed off with Relb. Thinks he’s some big shot, always going on about who he’s smacked, which sligs he’s snuck past.”

Joe looked at the stain, part of it had been scrubbed off, but most of it remained. He felt like he was going to lose it.

“Yeah, but he’s the one that gets most of the fags and booze, if he can get his hands on any.” Crob counteracted. He started scrubbing again as if Joe’s opinions were trivial.

Joe thought about just exploding in his face. Grabbing the bucket and knocking out the first slig he saw. He didn’t care if he got shot, not at the moment anyway. He sighed and continued his work.

This sounds interesting... I'll check back on this.

this should be a nice little thread

cheers.
-----

Three hours passed, and the buzzer sounded, echoing through the bowels of the vast, dark factory. The engines kept running, even though they were not in use. Rupture Farms had no future in energy saving. Joe and Crob left their buckets and rags and made their way down the seven walkways via the long, rusted ladder, and onto the factory floor. There, they joined many other mudokons, all making their way to their own sleeping quarters, under the accusing gaze of the slig guards. Joe and Crob walked side by side, amongst the others, talking.

“Wonder what Relb’s nicked this time?” Joe questioned, looking at his feet as he walked.

“Yeah.” Crob said.

Joe looked up at the mudokon walking in front of him. He was tall with ragged head-feathers.

“And Muller. He’s a laugh aint he?”

“Hmm.”

“Are you alright?” Joe asked Crob, slightly annoyed.

“Yeah, err…I’ve just gotta’…see ya’!” Crob ran off to his left, between two massive, shuddering engines powering the giant circular saws, and into the darkness.

Joe stopped in his tracks.

“Hey! What about the hole?” When he heard no reply from the shadows, he closed his eyes and shook his head, “For fuck sake, so I’ve gotta’ go to the hole on my own.” With a sigh he carried on.

Joe made his way to the end of the mincing section and turned left into a dimly lit corridor. There he saw two sligs beating a mudokon. One was standing to the side, watching his pal whilst he smoked a cigarette, holding his rifle in his free hand, the tip of the barrel touching the steel-plated floor, as the other punched the mudokon across the face and in the stomach as he pushed him against the wall, his gun somewhere on the floor behind him, as if it had been dropped in a sudden fit of rage.

Joe tried to move from the spot and find someway else to get to the hole, where all his chums would be waiting for him, but he couldn’t force himself from the position he was in. He was rooted to the spot, watching a mudokon receive the beating of a lifetime.

“Yeah! You show ‘im Bale! Cheeky bastard!” The smoking slig said with laughter on his breath.

“I’ll…teach you to…backchat me…you fucker!” The violent slig said, quite breathless, as he punched the mudokon squarely on the nose, then across the jaw, and finally in the stomach. The mudokon slumped to the floor and the slig stood over him, panting.

“You had enough you slimy piece of slog shit?!” The slig said.

“Look! He wants more! Ha ha!! Give it to ‘im Bale!” The other slig chirruped in.

Joe looked at the mudokons face. He had a severe black eye, which was puffy, but not yet purple, and blood was dribbling from his nose and split lip. That’s all he could make out from a distance, and that’s all he wanted to see; he didn’t have a strong stomach.

The mudokon murmured something that Joe couldn’t hear, and the slig standing over him spat in his face.

“Well next time, keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.” The violent slig breathed.

The cigarette smoking slig took one last drag, bent down and stubbed out his cigarette on the mudokons forehead. The mudokon groaned in pain, half conscious in his painful daze. The violent slig laughed, walked over to his rifle and picked it up.

“Oi! What the fuck are you lookin’ at?!” The smoker slig yelled.

It felt like the pit of Joes stomach had just dropped onto the floor with a splat. The slig was talking to him, and him alone.

The other slig looked behind him and stared into Joes eyes. The red visor held back the monsters vision.

“Err – nothing sir! I was just-” Joe stuttered before being interrupted.

“I think this dip-shit wants a little attention.” The smoker slig said to his friend.

The violent slig growled, and said quite calmly, “Stay right there little mud, we’ll take care of you.”

Oh dear... This is why you don't hang about violence.

poor little mudokon no were to run nowere to hide, if he could just jump the platform...

He moved slowly towards him. Joe wasn’t that stupid, and seemed to have found the use of his legs again. He sprinted from the spot so fast he slid and nearly slipped over.

“Freeze!!” one of the sligs yelled, in reaction to Joe’s flight.

Joe ran through mudokons and down an alley formed by two high stacks of wooden meat barrels. He heard gun shots echoing behind him and this only fuelled his desire to get as far away from these bloodthirsty and violent sligs as soon as possible.

“Get back here you shit!!” One of the sligs shouted, and fired another two shots.

Joe heard shouts from the mudokons and assumed they were scattering all over the place. Joe, in his cowardice, and maybe intelligence, didn’t want to end up like the other mudokon; half conscious with a bloody nose, fat lip and a fag burn on his head, and so continued to run.

“Watch it Bale! That’s the meat storage bit!” The smoker slig yelled.

“Alright, alright! No shootin’ then!” Yelled Bale.

Joe ran through the barrel alley and into an open area where barrels were stacked high on all sides, packed full of bloody meat. Joe desperately looked around for a place to hide, and using his wit, decided to climb the barrels to a higher position where he could lay hidden, seeing as sligs weren’t the best at climbing.

Joe managed to find a snug spot between two barrels and slid into the gap. He had a view of the area below him, and watched as the sligs blundered onto the scene. They held their rifles slack, as they always did, and stopped suddenly near the entrance of the meat storage area. They whispered to each other, something that Joe couldn’t hear, and then spread out.

“Come out come out where ever you are!” The smoker slig sung loudly.

Joe felt scared and was feeling physically sick.

“You stupid fucker! Come out now with yeh hands held high!!” Bellowed Bale.

“We promise we’ll go easy on ya’! We’ll shoot you instead of beatin’ the shit outta’ ya’!” The smoker slig mocked.

“Where do you reckon he’s ran off to? I cant see ‘im…maybe he’s climbed over to the other side?” Bale said, sounding disappointed with the fact he’d potentially lost a chance to beat a mudokon into submission.

“Fuck! I really wanted to show that mud what for!” The smoker slig whined.

“C’mon Rot, fuck it. Lets play some poker with the lads.” Bale spoke to his friend.

Rot hung his head, “Damn it!” He said, and walked out with his friend.

-----

sorry about the delay.

Definately worth the wait. I liked the chase in particular.

i liked writing the chase, even though it was quite short.
quite a bit of talking in this next one.

-----

It was a long time before Joe dared to come out, he was cowardly, he knew this, but stupid he was not. He lay there, hidden, for a good thirty minutes, and only after this did he stir. The factory was still running, but no mudokons were working, as they were all in their sleeping quarters. Sligs still guarded their posts, but most of them were also resting, or more likely betting, drinking and smoking.

“Well, gotta’ bite the bullet some time.” Joe said to himself, and begun to pull himself out.

He crawled out of the space he was hidden in, and climbed down the meat barrels, his hands slipping every so often on congealed blood that had seeped through the cracks in the wood. Once he was on solid ground, he made his way through the barrel alley and peeked around the corner. No one was there, only giant black engines ceaselessly running, pipes leading to unexplored areas of the factory, and wires dangling down the sides of walls powering something in the depths of Rupture Farms.

Joe felt relieved, and walked out into the open, into the corridor. He walked past the area where the mudokon had been beaten, and noticed small blood splatters on the floor. Probably from his broken nose. Joe stepped over this gruesome find and walked down the rest of the corridor, to which he then turned right, between a wire fence surrounding a vat of fuel, and intense pipe-work.

Joe eventually reached a ladder leading upwards to another level, and he knew this area to be the meat grinding section. Massive propellers, called meat grinders, spun underneath tunnels which oversized chunks of meat were dropped down, to be splattered and mashed into smaller pieces, ready for de-boning and packaging.

Many mudokon sized meat saws also inhabited this section of Rupture Farms, where the smaller lumps of meat were thrown underneath to be cut up by spinning blades. These were operated by mudokons, that placed the meat underneath the blades and then pulled the lever, which operated the meat saw. The meat saw would spin and drop down a pulley at lightening speed, thus chopping up the meat, before retracting again. The saw was so effective it only had to be used once on the subject.

Joe walked along the walkway and slipped between two air vents, which took a turn to the left. Joe followed it and then walked to the edge of a square hole which was walled by air vents. Mudokons were in the hole, talking to each other and sitting on empty crates, Joe climbed down and joined them.

“Hello Joe! How’s life treating ya’?” One mudokon yelled.

“Fine Relb, fine.” Joe answered.

“Sit down, have a fag.” Relb spoke as he slid an empty crate over to where Joe was standing with his foot.

“I’ve told you,” Joe started, “I don’t smoke.”

“Now’s not the time for the blues, Joe!” Said another Mudokon standing by a crate, pouring a clear spirit into three tin cans.

“Yeah, well Muller, if you’d of just had to endure what I’ve just-” Joe said before being interrupted.

“Got chased again, ay?” Relb commented, and took a side-glance at Muller who sniggered.

“Fuck me, I thought you’d o’ got used to that by now, Joe.” A third mudokon remarked, standing next to Muller, who had finished pouring the drinks.

“Oh, fuck off Rol. Some of us have got them bastard sligs breathin’ down our necks while we work.” Joe reacted, nastily.

“Huh.” Rol puffed, and picked up a tin can.

“Come on now Joe, relax! Have a can of this shit we pinched from a sligs locker. Dunno what its called, label’s been ripped off” Relb said, his arms open wide in a figure of welcoming.

Joe sat on the crate, and asked “Where’s Crob?”

“I was gonna’ ask you the same thing. He usually comes in with you, don’t he.” Muller said, picking up a can and taking a sip. He shook his head when the taste of the alcohol reached his taste buds. “Phew! That’s strong stuff!”

“Hey!” Relb said sharply, “You gonna’ hog the whole bottle?”

“Oh sorry, ‘ere.” Muller answered, passing Relb the last tin.

“We still haven’t got another tin for you, Joe.” Rol commented, a smile lingering on his lips.

“You just fucking love to wind me up, don’t you!” Joe shouted.

Rol seemed slightly taken aback.

“Hey hey hey! Calm down!” Relb said in a hoarse whisper, “If the sligs hear us we’ll be under a meat saw, just like Bon was!”

“You’ve obviously had a bad day, Joe. Don’t worry about it. Rol, stop takin’ the piss.” Muller said, as Rol huffed and puffed.

“I told you not to mention Bon.” Joe said quietly.

“Oh…sorry Joe.” Relb apologised.

There was a temporary silence between them, filled only with the movement of greased machinery and running engines. A couple of gunshots were heard in the distance, echoing through the factory.

“Lets hope that aint Crob.” Rol said, looking up at the high factory roof. He took a sip from his can. “Jeez!” Rol choked, before coughing and spluttering everywhere.

Relb and Muller burst out laughing, Muller patting Rol on the back.

“That…what on Odd! Whoa! That crap’s strong that is!” Rol spluttered.

“You don’t say!” Joe remarked.

“I said it was strong!” Muller said as Rol recomposed himself.

“You want some?” Relb asked Joe.

“We aint got no cans, Relb!” Rol insisted.

“Just gimme the bottle.” Joe said over the top of Rol.

Muller handed the bottle to Joe and Joe took a sip. The clear liquid flooded his mouth and burned his tongue. He swallowed it quickly and let the substance leave a hot streak down his throat and into his belly. He coughed, and the others laughed.

“Where the hell did you get this! The fucking fuel tank?!” Joe said, trying his best not to cough. He cleared his throat, which seemed to help.

“A slig locker. I’ve forgot which number.” Said Relb as he took a good glug. He grimaced, but didn’t cough. “Ha ha! How do ya’ like that!” He said as he flung his arms into the air signifying victory.

“Your throat must be like a bloody meat grinder tube!” Muller said, laughing and taking the bottle from Joe’s grasp.

“Hello all!” Said a mudokon voice from behind them all.

The group turned around to see Crob standing above. He jumped down into the hole to join them.

“Hello there, Crob!” Relb announced, “You’ve joined us just in time, we were – what the hell have you done to your eye?!”

Everyone immediately looked at Crob’s eyes. One of them was swollen.

Nice job. Didn't know you were such a good writer.

Guarantee it was those fuckin' Sligs who busted Crob's eye D=

I never thought mudokons swore so much. Kiddy insults seemed more fitting... But that doesn't change the great quality of this new chapter.:D

i actually didn't realise how much swearing there was until you said Oddey. i think its because they are hardened factory labourers, and need to stay tough to keep from being beaten mentally by the Magog Cartel system. also thanks Dixanadu.

-----

“Fuck me! What you done?!” Joe asked, concerned.

“I got punched by a slig ‘cus he caught me nickin’ this from his locker!” Crob told them, and pulled out a small glass cup from behind his back.

“Wow! Glass!” Muller said, quite amazed.

“Hang on, hang on…how come you’re here to tell the tale? How come your not in a meat grinder if a slig caught ya’?” Rol said accusingly.

“Because I punched him in the face and legged it! How else do you think?” Crob answered with a frown.

“He thinks you pulled out your jetpack and flew away, don’t you Rol?” Relb said sarcastically.

Muller sniggered again.

“Huh.” Rol emitted.

“You should of let me go with you!” Joe directed at Crob.

“And what would you of done?! Screamed an’ ran off!” Said Rol.

Muller laughed out loud, unable to contain it, to which Rol sniggered at his own remark and Relb looked at Joe, smiling.

“Ah, whatever.” Joe said, passively.

“That’s the spirit my lad! Fuck ‘em all!” Relb said, then taking another swig of his drink.

“Fill her up, Muller!” Said Crob, shaking his glass in Muller’s face.

Muller took the glass and filled it to the brim.

“This stuff’s lethal, so be caref-” Muller started, but Crob had already necked it.

“Looks like you’ve got competition, Relb!” Joe remarked, laughing.

“Anyone want a smoke?” Rol asked, showing a pack of ‘Lungbuster’ cigarettes.

“Yeah, go on then.” Muller said, taking one from the packet. “Got a lighter?”

“Course I have, here.” Rol answered, passing a silver lighter over to Muller.

“Where’d you get that from?” Joe questioned.

Muller lit his cigarette and took a deep drag.

“That’s better.” He sighed, looking up at the roof.

“You don’t wanna know.” Rol said, as he offered the pack of cigarettes to Relb.

Relb took one, and then took Rol’s lighter from Muller’s hand.

“You aint got a strong stomach, remember.” Relb said, lighting up his cigarette.

“You want one?” Rol offered Crob.

Crob looked at Joe in disbelief.

“How many times have I gotta tell this dumb bastard I don’t smoke!?” He said, to which Muller laughed.

Rol let out a ‘Humph’ and pulled out a cigarette for himself.

“Lighter.” Rol said to Relb, with a beckoning finger.

Relb passed him the lighter.

“Refill please!” Crob said, shaking his glass at Muller again.

“I can take it. How’d you get it?” Joe repeated.

Muller refilled Crob’s glass as he held it, and side glanced at Rol, who was lighting his cigarette.

“I took it.” Rol said tentatively.

There was silence.

“Well? Come on! Off who?!” Joe persisted.

“Off a dead mudokon.” Rol said, and glanced at Relb.

“Wha…honestly?!” Joe exclaimed.

“Well that’s all in the past now aint it. Muller, another please!” Relb said, holding his tin out to Muller.

It took a while for Joe to take this in. He’d taken it from a fellow dead mudokon without remorse.

“I knew you were low, Rol, but fuck me! That’s a whole new low!” Joe said, disgusted.

“Oh fuck off! You would o’ done the same thing if you were there!” Rol barked.

“No I wouldn’t! I would-”

“Oh sorry, yeah, you’d of just ran away screaming! No wonder fuckin’ Bon ended up as slog food!” Rol taunted.

Joe stood up, and faced Rol, clenching his fists.

“Alright alright! Lets just calm down!” Relb intervened.

“Bon was a good friend, Rol. But you wouldn’t know what that is, would ya’!” Crob joined in Joe’s defence.

“Jeez! Lets all just have another fucking drink! Fuck me backwards!” Muller spoke loudly, before Rol could say something else.

“You did ask, Joe, and he gave you an answer. Its all in the past now anyway.” Relb said calmly.

“Fuck it.” Joe said, and sat back down. “You gonna’ drink that?” He asked Crob.

“Yes I am you cheeky git!” Crob reacted, and downed it in one again.

They spent the night drinking the unnamed alcohol and were soon talking to each other in a tipsy manner. It didn’t take the drink long to get them drunk; it was strong stuff.

-----

sorry, these talking scenes are quite long and a bit confusing, but it helps build their characters.

Indeed it does...

I didn't think mudokons smoked either.

Your mudokons seem to know they work for nothing. Abe and many of his buddies seemed fine with the overall idea, rather like slaves with no knowledge of the outside world. But sometimes, to identify a coin, you have to turn it over.:D

very interesting point there Oddey. thanks.

-----

Joe awoke with a headache as the buzzer sounded. He was lying on the floor next to the crate he was originally sitting on. Crob was asleep on a crate next to Joe with his back against the wall, Relb was also asleep on the crate he was sitting on, against the wall, Muller was lying across the crate with the tins and half full bottle of alcoholic substance on, asleep, and Rol was awake, sitting on the floor with his knees up, smoking a cigarette.

“Well well, wakey wakey.” Rol said to Joe, who was still groggy.

“Dear…dear me. How many did I have?” Joe croaked, rubbing his forehead.

“Too many…do you remember what you were doing?” Rol said in a puff of smoke.

“Err…” Joe racked his brains searching for last nights events, but he found nothing but a blur. “No.”

“You stripped off and streaked past a load of sligs.” Rol said quite calmly, then taking a drag of his cigarette whilst looking at Joe’s face to see his reaction.

“Fuck off did I.” Joe said with a smile.

Rol chuckled to himself and finished off his cigarette, stubbing it out on the crate Muller was asleep on.

“Time to wake these sleeping sloggies, I think.” Rol said as he stood up.

He nudged Muller and said “Hey…piss-head…time for work.”

Muller mumbled something and tried to roll over on the crate, but fell onto the floor with a thud. Rol burst out laughing, along with Joe, and this woke Crob and Relb.

“Fuckin’ hell…what’s all the noise for?” Relb said in a hoarse whisper.

Crob rubbed his eyes and spoke, “Why’s Muller on the floor?”

“He’s fell back to sleep! You saw him fall off didn’t ya’, Joe!” Rol exclaimed.

“Yeah…lazy bastard.” Said Joe.

Rol shook Muller by the shoulders, saying “Come on Muller! Time for work! Get up!”

“Best get going, before them sligs beat seven bells out of us.” Joe said, standing up.

“Your right, your right…gotta’ go.” Crob agreed.

They all left the hole and sneaked through the air vent passage, seeing as no other sligs knew of the place, and Joe and Crob made their way up to walkway seven in the mincing section to retrieve their equipment.

Crob climbed back onto the ladder and begun to make his way down, Joe following him, their buckets in their hands, when a slig shouted.

“Mud! Get up here!” The slig yelled above the noisy machinery.

Joe looked up and so did Crob to see a slig leaning over the side above on walkway nine. He was waving them up. Joe and Crob started to climb up the ladder towards him.

“No, only need one. You,” The slig barked in Crobs direction, “Go somewhere else.”

“See ya’ later.” Crob mumbled to Joe as he climbed down.

“Great.” Joe said under his breath, climbing up the ladder towards the slig.

When Joe reached walkway nine, he saw the slig that had shouted him facing him by the ladder, and another two sligs standing behind him, talking.

“There’s some blood on that poster. Clean it up.” The slig said, pointing towards a ‘Paramite Pie’s’ poster.

Joe walked past the sligs and dropped his bucket of old water onto the floor, his rag swirling around inside its metal shell. That’s when he noticed more than just a splatter near the bottom of the poster. There was a whole streak of blood leading behind him. Joe followed the trail with his eyes and saw that it reached a mudokon corpse at the feet of the sligs, his head bashed in, and to Joe’s horror, scarlet brains were on display from his cracked open head. The whole body was in a pool of deep red blood, so large that it was dripping off the side of the walkway.

Joe wretched, and was sick all over the steel plated floor. One of the two talking sligs laughed.

“Ha ha! You see that Don! Ha ha! He went an’ gone an’ spewed up everywhere!”

“Mudokon scum. Clean that shit up now!”

Joe stood bent over, looking at his own sick pooling around his feet. He didn’t react to the sick touching his feet; he’d past caring.

The slig that had shouted Joe up walked over to him, and put the muzzle of his rifle in Joe’s throat, then lifting Joe’s face up to eye level with his.

“You clean that up good and proper. And don’t go tellin’ your friends or any other sligs what ya’ saw, otherwise you’ll end up like my sticky friend here. Understand?” The slig breathed in Joe’s face, the breath of a violent, murdering thug.

The slig lowered his rifle, and walked away.

“Watch you don’t slip over now! Ha ha! And don’t forget to pick up the brains!” The other slig giggled as he walked away with the other two sligs.

Joe cleaned up his sick and the blood splatter on the poster. He also cleaned up the bloody streak that lead to the dead mudokon, nearing dangerously close to the cold limbs of the cadaver, but he did not go anywhere near the head of the mudokon, and tried his best to keep his wandering eyes away from the gruesome sight.

Eventually, someone noticed the blood dripping down from walkway nine, and came to investigate. Two sligs climbed up to the walkway Joe was on, and asked him what had happened.

“Fuck! What happened here mud?” One of the sligs asked, looking at the corpse on the floor.

“I don’t know.” Joe answered cautiously, “I was just told to clean it up.”

“You must of heard some names mentioned mud? Come on! Spit it out!” The other slig said impatiently.

“Easy Ralf, he might be in shock.” His friend said calmly, then looking at Joe. “You can tell us pal, we’re not like the other sligs here, we’ll get the bastards that did this. Don’t you want them to get their comeuppance?”

“Some evil shits have done this. Look Kol, they’ve bashed his brains outta’ his skull!” Ralf said in outrage.

“Well, there was three of them, and I heard one of them call the other ‘Don’. That’s all I know.” Joe confessed, looking up from his crouched position on the walkway, rag in hand.

“Right. You hear that Ralf? He said one of ‘em was called ‘Don’.” Kol said to Ralf.

“Well we got a few hours ‘till the end of our shift. Lets look for them then.” Ralf answered.

The two sligs walked off without saying another word to Joe, and Joe felt nervous about the fact he’d just told them the name of one of the killers. What if they found out it was him?

“Shit.” Joe uttered to himself.

Once Joe had finished cleaning up what he wanted to clean up, it came to him. Why not leave Rupture Farms all together? The glukkons of Rupture Farms had already told the sligs not to let any mudokons out of the factory; they were slaves after all, but what if he did it anyway? He could sneak past the guards at night, get through the stockyards, and make it to an isolated part of the free-fire zone surrounding Rupture Farms.

What about his friends? Well they could come with him. It would be hard trying to get five mudokons out of Rupture Farms, and Joe was no hero. If anything Joe was just an anaemic, cowardly mudokon with a weak stomach. But hell, it was better than witnessing brutal attacks on mudokons and sligs alike, and having to clear up the shit afterwards.

-----

sorry about the wait, been busy with The Land Of Dostollin. hope you like it anyway Oddey.

Indeed. So this is Joe's idea. I wonder what his friends will say about this, assuming he'll tell them.:D

I like

been a LONG time.

-----

Joe’s mind was made up, he was going to escape from Rupture Farms. He’d tell his friends in the hole later, and see if they wanted to come also. Joe would still leave even if they were not. There must be more to life than this?

The buzzer sounded, and Joe emptied his bucket onto the floor, letting the water wash away the pool of blood surrounding the dead mudokon. The red tinted water splashed up Joe’s shins and ran off the edge of the walkway, wetting the factory floor far below. Joe had taken his time clearing up this disgusting mess on purpose, so he could stay clear of sligs.

Joe stopped off at the canteen before going to the hole, seeing as he hadn’t eaten all day. The mudokons were slaves for Rupture Farms, but they still needed to be fed, and were given the rejected pieces of meat from the processing section of the factory. The food was free, and the sligs also ate here, often meeting up with friends and going back to their post to play cards and drink booze.

Joe waited in line with other mudokons as sligs pushed into the cue and took the best food first. Their wasn’t many sligs, as it was the end of the day, but there was still enough to cause a hierarchy clash. Then, Joe smelt an awful stench, and someone tapped him on the shoulder. Joe turned around to see Relb standing behind him.

“Oh! Alright Relb! What you been doing today?” Joe asked.

“Crap, that’s what.” Relb replied, looking fed up.

“It couldn’t of been worse than what I was doing.” Joe said, reminding himself of the murder scene.

“No, I was mucking out crap, literally. Cleaning out the barrels for reuse. There was loads of shitty, rottin’ meat at the bottom of ‘em. Fucking horrible. Stunk as well.” Relb answered tiresomely.

“I can tell.” Joe said jokingly.

“Hey! Get to the back! I was here!” A mudokon behind Relb said as he put his hand on Relb’s shoulder, spinning him around.

“Get the fuck off!” Relb yelled at the mudokon.

“Jeez! You fucking stink!” The mudokon answered, taking his hand off Relb’s shoulder as if he was contagious.

Relb had obviously had a terrible day, and so there was no warning when he swung for the mudokon and smashed him across the jaw.

“Fuck you!” Relb shouted angrily as the mudokon hit the tiled floor of the canteen.

Joe took a few steps back so he was out of the way of any further attacks.

“You fucker! Get away from ‘im!” A hefty mudokon behind the downed mudokon shouted.

“You want some as well you fat piece of shit!” Relb yelled at him, fists clenched.

The downed mudokon got back up and punched Relb in the stomach as he did so. Relb doubled over and shouted.

“Help me, Joe!!”

Joe took a few more steps back. There was no way his cowardly form was going to get involved in this.

The mudokons in the cue had all scattered and formed a circle around the fighting mudokons, jeering and shouting, forgetting their troubles in the momentary violence that was on display before them.

Two sligs that were sat eating at a metal table in the corner of the canteen did nothing, and continued to talk to each other as if there was nothing going on. One of the mudokon kitchen staff behind the serving hatch began to run out to stop the fight.

Relb moved his head to the side avoiding an uppercut from the hefty mudokon, and kneed him in the groin. He fell to the floor, in agony, as the other mudokon punched Relb in the eye socket. Relb groaned in pain, and stood there, wobbling for a moment, seeing stars.

Then, Joe’s intelligence overrode his cowardice and he ran and jumped onto the mudokon’s back. The mudokon stumbled backwards into a trolley full of empty, steel platters with a clatter. Joe kicked his legs out against the wall and pushed the mudokon he was straddling towards Relb, who had shook off the stars and was alert once more.

Relb socked the mudokon in the nose with one powerful swing and knocked him out. The mudokon fell forwards onto his face, and Joe climbed off him, heart beating at an unnaturally high rate. It was the first brave thing he’d done in his life.

The member of the mudokon kitchen staff then got between the fighting mudokons and tried to diffuse the situation as the hefty mudokon skulked off to wait for the pain to pass.

“Ok, everyone get back to what you were doing. This fights over.” A mudokon with a white, bloodstained apron shouted to everyone.

Then, one of the sligs in the corner intervened.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” The slig said, standing up from his seat as his friend carried on eating.

“Sorry sir. I was just stopping the fight.” The mudokon said.

Relb indicated to Joe to leave, at which point Joe grabbed a couple of chunks of cooked scrab meat from the hatch. The both of them then left quietly.

All Joe heard as he left was the slig shouting in the silence. Then a shot was fired. The mudokons poured out of the canteen like ants. Another life wasted so a point could be made. Thus was life in Rupture Farms.

Indeed it has. I didn't have the time to read it thoroughly, but from what I did read, it souns as though this is still going strong.

hello again.

now, i've already got this whole thing written out and finished, i finished writing it before i returned to OWF properly, so it was completed around January 2009. seeing as it is part of a very slowly progressing collection of shorts set in Rupture Farms, it didn't have chapters, just 'breaks' marked with symbols. but, as its now apparent, these 'breaks' are not the best thing to judge a short chapter suitable for posting by, so i'm using my initiative to break it all up into bite-size chunks.

in other words; if an ending to a post seems to be a bit anti climatic or a pointless cliffhanger, its just me trying to make each post more reader-friendly.

also; seeing as this was written in Jan 2009, that should explain my grammatical errors that pop up occasionally (eg: your/you're, and also excessive use of '?!' rather than just '?' or '!'). i've surprisingly learnt a lot from other members grammar-wise since i wrote this, so i cringe whenever i reread it and find those amateurish, glaring errors. too tired/busy/drunk to edit the whole story before i post, too. sorry! hope it isn't too irritating.

-----

Joe and Relb reached the hole soon enough, and were the first there. They ate the scrab meat and started on the remains of the unknown alcohol. They both sat down on a crate and Relb poured them a tin cup each to drink, Joe sipping his once he had received it.

“Ah…that’s strong.” Joe reminded himself.

“Well,” Begun Relb, his eye purple and puffy. “We certainly showed them!”

“I wasn’t any use. All I did was jump on his back.” Joe denied.

“Rubbish! It takes a mudokon with real guts to get involved during a brawl!” Relb praised.

Joe accepted this, and sipped his drink again.

“You got here quick, didn’t ya’?” A mudokon voice said from the entrance to the hole.

Joe turned around to see Muller standing above them. He jumped down and said,

“I see you’ve started on the booze without me!”

“Yep! Time waits for no mud!” Relb answered, pouring some of the liquid into the last tin.

“Good thinking, Relb. Crob’ll go mad if he knows your using his glass cup.” Joe informed.

“Too right I will!” Crob said from behind them, jumping down into the hole to join them.

“What you been up to?” Joe asked.

“Couldn’t of been worse than me.” Relb said, pouring some of the colourless juice into the glass cup.

“Weren’t that bad, cleaning out the weapon storeroom. You should see the guns they got in there!” Crob told them.

“I’m surprised they let you do that.” Muller said, taking a sip of his drink and exhaling once the potent liquid had passed down his throat.

“Me too.” Crob replied. “I think the slig that got me to do it couldn’t be arsed, so he got me to do it for him. There was all sorts of shit in there! Pistols, rifles, sub machineguns, and loads of really old weapons that I haven’t even seen before! And I mean really old! Like antique!”

“Fuck.” Relb remarked.

“Oh no…what you been doin’ Relb?” Crob asked Relb once he noticed his black eye.

“Oh you should of seen us!” Relb began excitedly as Crob sat down on a crate, picking up his glass. “Me an’ Joe had a fuckin’ brawl in the canteen! This mudokon said I stunk so I-”

“Oh, I wondered what that smell was.” Muller interrupted. “Been cleaning out the barrels?”

“Yeah,” Continued Relb, looking slightly annoyed at Muller for butting in his story. “Well anyway, he said I stunk, so I punched him in the face, and then this big bastard of a mudokon, I’m talkin’ built like a brick shit house, started on me as well! Joe was there! He saw it! Didn’t ya’ Joe?”

“Oh yeah, yeah.” Joe answered, hoping he’d leave out the part where Joe just stood and watched.

“Well, he tried to give me an uppercut, but you know me, lightening reflexes an’ all that. So I dodged it, and kneed the fat bastard between the legs! He fell down like a sack of shit!” Relb described in detail.

Joe started laughing at the fact that Relb had left the bit out where he got punched in the stomach.

“What?” Relb said, looking bemused.

Muller and Crob looked at Joe, also looking baffled at Joe’s reaction.

“Nothing. Its nothing.” Joe said, trying to hold back his laughter, and sniggering because of it.

“Err…yeah,” Relb continued, diverting Crob and Muller’s attention once more. “So the other mudokon got lucky, and whacked me in the face. That’s how I got this.” He said, pointing at his eye.

“Hang on, what was Joe doin’ while all this was goin’ on?” Muller asked suspiciously.

“I’m getting to that. As I was saying, he got lucky, and caught me in the eye, so Joe leapt on his back and started ridin’ him like an elum!”

Crob and Muller roared with laughter. Not the reaction Joe had hoped for, but still, at least it didn’t expose Joe’s cowardly side.

“Yeah! Its true!” Relb said, laughing. “So I punched the mud in the face and knocked him out. Then we left before things got heavy.”

Muller and Crob quietened down, and Muller was wiping his eyes, still silently cackling.

“Ha ha…heh, what…what do you mean ‘before things got heavy’?” Crob asked.

“Well, Joe can tell you that.” Relb replied, taking a swig from his tin cup and looking at his feet.

-----

not much of a cliff hanger, but like i say, i'm just having trouble splitting this thing into sections.

by the way, i have noticed by reading through the whole thing that at times, due to all the talking, it resembles a script more than a story. i apologise for this, and it even confuses me at times. i really don't know why i didn't simplify the talking scenes as i wrote them at the time. this'll be an example for me, anyway.

Watch out for Kastere.

In all seriousness, it's nice to have this back. I kind of like the long pauses. Leaves more time for me to do something else rather than read constantly. Don't get me wrong, I love reading, but everyone wants to do something else here and there.

Brilliant. Though the swearing is a bit much... I don't mind the excessive conversations, I get into those when I'm writing, too. Now - this swearing. Not that I mind it, but seeing as most Mudokons are actually drones, fucking isn't something most of the population would do, ever. Therefore they probably wouldn't use it as a curse... unless...


~"Sam fuck me! Now that would be horrible."
Enchilado

i see your point, but i'm pretty sure 'fuck' is actually in the vocabulary of Oddworld inhabitants; i remember hearing sligs using it to curse when you offended them as a possessed slig in MO. it doesn't necessarily mean 'to make sexual intercourse', as you can say "fuck off" to someone but are not implying that they actually go and have sex with something in another location.

same with 'fuck me', which when used as a term to express surprise or irritation, does not actually ask the listener to perform sexual activities on his person. to say somebody got 'fucked up' would suggest they were beaten into submission either physically or mentally, therefore if you consider this while thinking of 'fuck me', it could imply that the speaker is so surprised/irritated by the event that they believe they have given up mentally or are too tired and 'beaten' to continue.

of course, when used like this, it is more often than not an exaggeration or comical remark to express how irritating/shocking they find the situation.

but stuff like 'bollocks' i'm sure is rarely used (for obvious reasons), if at all, hence the reason i didn't add it.

i just personally believe very strongly that Oddworld creatures, mainly sligs, mudokons and glukkons, use very similar language to us, and shouldn't be excused from the grittiness of some of Oddworlds locations. i mean, Molluck hung Abe over a meat grinder in the bad ending of AO. a boss that isn't fazed by seeing an employee that talks, thinks and has its own opinions, fears and loves, shredded and crushed in a brutal manner, laughing as he does so, is i am sure capable of foul language.

if one inhabitant can do it, then many others will also. obviously not all, because its similar to our own society; you get foul-mouthed thugs, polite pacifists, and quiet neutralists. then you also get foul-mouthed heroes, polite criminals, and quiet murderers. you can't judge a book by its cover.

i just think people try to disassociate Oddworld with our own world too much at times. i personally believe they are one and the same.

sorry about that rant, and good question Enchilado.

and i almost forgot; thanks for reading both of you!

That's an interesting theory, but I think that mudokons aren't really cut out for swearing. I don't think sligs ever say "fuck off" in MO, but they do say "ass". Glukkons are just the right pick for swearing though, along with sligs in the right places.

I don't think mudokond would swear about their work, as they have nothing to compare it to. Abe never swore either, and he seems to be a relatively normal mudokon, aside from his skin color and stitched lips. The free mudokons might swear if they were imprisond into a factory, but with Sam in captivity, I doubt there are many once free mudokon slaves left.

But you're the writer, so it's your call.

i just wrote an answer, but out of fear of this thread filling with numerous posts discussing a subject, rather than the topic, i will respectfully agree to disagree. don't get me wrong, i am not annoyed, and i don't disagree with you completely, only on some parts.

i've saved my answer, though, so we'll have to make a thread about this in OD at some point. i think it would be quite interesting to see everyone's point of veiw.

thanks for the input, chap.

Yeah... Agree to disagree... What a wonderful concept.

Indeed it would.

Just waiting for yours.:D Take your time though.

i'm sorry, but i can't help but sense a hint of sarcasm in this last post of yours. let me know if i got this wrong, but do you mean you're still waiting for my input? i didn't reply because my reply was in fact 5 paragraphs long, thats why i deemed it unfitting for a thread about a story, not a discussion on the origins of mudokon 'cuss words' and if they use them.

i apologise if this is not to your liking, but if you would like to make the thread yourself in case i don't, then go ahead.

The last bit had no sarcasm. Along with the rest.

When I said input, I meant storywise, not about mudokon swear words. I can kind of see now that I said that rather unclearly, but it seemed easy to understand at the time.:D

What a diverse topic. Mudokon swear words and if they use them.

Ok so I read the story.. And I'm happy that there are finally some actually stories here rather than all the 'games' going on :p

I hope you're not too tired of critiques already because I thought I'd point a few things out. Sorry if they are uncalled for.

Ok.. SO first.. This has already been discussed I see, but honestly I find the swearing a bit too exaggerated too... It also sounds too much like something a human would say. Playing through the games, and watching all the cut scenes and such, you'll notice they never use such string language. Not even the sligs. Not that it's a terrible thing. it's your story, you decide :p But I must admit whenever the swearing gets too much, I sort of get launched out of the whole oddworld feel... Makes me think too much as it contradicts with my understanding of oddworld, you know.

Second... The violence... um.. Is just a tad bit too much too... It's probably a bit hard to believe, but glukkon actually discourage injuring Mudokons... Unless they are defiant of course. But glukkons would definitely not let sligs kill a mudokon, or break their bones for no reason at all. You have to keep in mind that mudokons actually do cost money, and it's not as if the glukkons have an infinite supply of mudokons. For each mudokon that is killed, glukkons will have to buy another... And glukkons do not like wasting money as they are money hungry. Therefor I find it quite unrealistic the way sligs so lightheartedly even kill the mudokons with no fear of being fired or... facing Skillya. Sligs that kill mudokons actually sabotage the efficiency of the whole factory. Of course the punishments are harsh though, if the mudokons are disobedient and don't do their work.
It's just.. When reading about the sligs beating that one mudokon almost to a pulp, and that other mudokon who's brain was like splattered or whatever... I'm pretty sure they would have gotten in trouble for that... Not from their peers, but from the boss.

Sorry if this is a bit long x_x

Anyway otherwise I think the story is rather interesting :p And I don't think it's unrealistic they are unaware about being slaves... I can imagine that at least some mudokons would figure out what was going on. Some mudokons are too simple minded though.
But yea... I also think there could be a lot more action during the dialogs.. But I have this problem too... Ask Splat how he does it O_o I simply have no idea.

Anyway keep posting more :p If you have it all written, why don't you just post it all?

sorry about that Oddey, i got the wrong 'tone' from your post. i don't know why i thought there was a tone to it, because that's not like you. apologies.

T-nex: thanks, i like to hear feedback so i can improve on future projects.

now that 3 members have all mentioned the bad language as being a bit unnecessary and excessively unrealistic, i will tone it down in future. reading back on it, it is quite offensive, and the only explanation i have is that i must have had a more personal concept of mudokon slave behaviour than the more common (and essentially, more likely) concept of most Oddworld enthusiasts.

i was actually waiting for someone to remind me about glukkons having to pay for slaves and that they would discourage mudokon fatalities, but i actually had this in mind as i was writing it. eg: you see in one of the previous chapters 2 sligs approach Joe asking how the mudokon died, then declaring they were going to 'look for them' when Joe informed them that it was a group of sligs. that was a small moment when you see 'the right thing' being done, because in this story and the short stories that may eventually follow i am concentrating on the low and dark side of industrialisation, including rule-breaking sligs and oppressed mudokons.

i see Rupture Farms as being pretty much a playground for slig supervisors and the like, as glukkons sit brooding in their offices, because the place is so vast. glukkons obviously don't want to fork out moolah for needless worker losses, like you said, but authority, or at least the authority that abides by the rules, cannot be everywhere at once in a place so vast and dangerous. therefore rule-breaking will exist, and in some areas may spiral totally out of control.

also, sligs are, by nature, very sociable creatures and easily influenced (following the slig with the best weapon was one example), therefore i'm portraying a majority of the slig employees as being corrupt, covering up for each other, in the hope they will become friends with 'the best gang' or simply receive some moolah in return for their rule-breaking. the only reason you don't see sligs being reprimanded for their actions in this story is due to it being told through the eyes of a mudokon, who i am sure wouldn't even know if the slig that killed a fellow mudokon was fired, shot at dawn or sent to Skillya. there are definitely consequences to their actions, as following tales will tell.

everyone you meet in this short story will have a story of their own eventually; the 2 sligs that question Joe about the dead mudokon, the 3 sligs that murdered said mudokon, the 2 sligs that chased Joe, the mudokons Relb and Joe fought in the canteen (who actually work in the stockyards) and a few characters that haven't been mentioned yet. each story will have a different overall tone to it, this one is concentrating more on oppression and its effects. the others will contrast with each other from righteous to criminally insane to suicidal.

whoa, bit of a rant, sorry. but i do see where you are coming from. thing is i already have it written so i cannot make changes now, but i will do for future concepts. i would post it all, but i feel it would be a strain for the reader, and i would still like to receive more feedback on the sections i post (easier to make recommendations and constructive criticism in short pieces i post that can be pin-pointed rather than one massive post).

i don't expect anyone to read that novel, as its not a defence, just a point of view. so in short; everyone's comments have been taken on board. thanks for the feedback, i will make a few tweaks in future.

Oh... Well.. The reason I pointed out the violence, is that people usually misunderstand the fact that Glukkons do not want their mudokons to be beaten all the time.. In fact they wanna keep them ignorant to whats going on.
But you seem to have thought this out anyway, and I can see how it makes sense from your point of view :)
Also, no one says you have to change anything now.. Your story is fine as it is, but some of us just like to butt and give you pointers for future reference :p

Anyway enough talk.. Do post more of your story :)

I like this story MA. This definitely has a dark feel to it, kind of like AO and AE.

Have you finished the story then MA? I would like to see it continue!

I'm waiting for more :)

sorry about the wait folks, i don't want to post too much in quick succession to make it easier on readers, but i didn't mean to leave it this long.

anywho;

-----

“Oh great! Leave me to tell ‘em the depressing bit!” Joe said, slightly outraged.

Muller and Crob looked at Joe, curious. Joe began his part of the story.

“Yeah, me and Relb left quickly, then a slig shot a mudokon.”

There was silence between them, the funny side of the story was over, even Muller had stopped sniggering. Then Crob spoke.

“Shit. Did you see it?”

“No. Just heard the gunshot.” Joe answered darkly.

“Get back to work!” Someone shouted from behind them.

Everyone turned around quickly, half expecting a slig to be standing there, soon realising Rol was winding them up.

“Hey Rol.” Muller said.

“Bloody hell! Is this the shiner crew or summat?” Rol said jokingly as he jumped down, looking at Relb’s black eye.

“He got into a fight at the canteen.” Crob informed.

“Oh yeah! I was gonna’ go in there but I heard shots fired, so I went the other way.” Rol told them.

“A mudokon was killed.” Crob said solemnly.

“Oh…well shit happens.” Rol answered insensitively.

“Wha?!” Joe exclaimed, half shocked.

“This is Rupture Farms, Joe. Not happy farms. People die, and you just gotta’ get used to it.” Rol said to Joe.

“That’s a bit harsh, Rol.” Muller said, out of his comfort zone.

“Oh for fucks sake! Are we gonna’ sit here mourning some fucking mudokon that we don’t even know?!” Rol said loudly, picking up the bottle of alcohol from the crate.

Crob stood up and pushed Rol, hard. He stumbled backwards, tripped over Muller’s foot and fell on his backside, spilling booze over his stomach. Muller gasped, and silence fell once more, Crob’s stocky form standing over Rol, breathing heavily and clenching his fists.

“Why did you do that?” Rol said quietly from the corner, his pride dented.

“It’s about time you showed some respect, mate.” Crob answered, not taking his eyes from Rol’s.

“Someone’s always gonna’ put you in your place if you act like that, Rol.” Joe said truthfully.

Rol looked at Joe from the floor, and his face contorted in rage. He stood up quickly, and took a deep swig from the bottle, scowling at Joe. Joe didn’t fancy getting into a fight with Rol, and so looked at the floor.

“C’mon everyone, lets just relax.” Relb said, trying to keep things pleasant.

Crob sat back down, and Rol wiped the spillage off his stomach.

“Well…I think now’s a good time to tell you what I’ve been thinking about.” Joe began.

“You’ve been thinking? Don’t strain yourself!” Rol remarked, to which Muller laughed.

Joe ignored this and carried on.

“What would you say to leaving Rupture Farms?”

Relb choked on his drink and Muller laughed nervously, as if wanting it to be a joke.

“Really?” Rol asked.

“Yeah. I mean it.” Joe answered.

“Your off your rocker, chump.” Rol said, taking another glug from the bottle.

“Joe,” Crob started. “We might be able to get past the stockyards, but there’s no way we’d get through the free-fire zone. Them sligs are fuckin’ evil.”

“Yeah, I had a friend that used to fix the fences in the stockyards.” Muller begun. “One night he was on the edge of the stockyards and free-fire zone and he said he saw the silhouette of a mudokon impaled on a stake.”

“I hear they skin any mudokons they find and feed ‘em to the slogs.” Relb joined.

“No no no…I reckon we should get past the stockyards, but then find a quiet part in the free-fire zone to live. I mean, we got food from the stockyards, and we got guns and cooking stuff we can pinch from the slig camps. The free-fire zone isn’t packed full of sligs, its just a few sligs here and there, setting up camps. We can do exactly the same.” Joe attempted to persuade.

“Yeah, but for how long?” Relb asked.

He looked worried.

“I don’t wanna’ have a stake forced through my stomach.” Muller said, suddenly out of character with the seriousness of the situation.

“Them sligs are fucking evil.” Rol repeated. “If they catch us, they wont shoot us, oh no! They’ll fucking skin us alive and hang us on a coil of razor wire!”

“Well there’s no point scaring ourselves. If Joe’s gonna’ do it, I’m goin’ with him.” Crob said valiantly.

Joe patted Crob on the shoulder, and Relb stood up.

“If you mean to do this, I gotta’ say, you got more guts than all of us…count me in.” Relb said, putting his tin can on the crate next to Muller and sitting back down.

“Well, if everyone else is…I spose I could-” Muller started before Relb spoke over him.

“Good mud! Good mud! Now its just Rol. Rol?” Relb said loudly.

Rol shook his head.

“Oh for shit sake! If everyone else is gonna’ kill ‘emselves then count me bastard in!”

“Right then,” Relb said, rubbing his hands together. “We’ll need weapons, ‘cus you can guarantee that we’ll bump into some sligs on the way outta’ here.”

“What about the weapon storeroom?” Rol asked Crob.

“No way, no way. There’s a keypad on the front and about three padlocks.” Crob informed them.

“Well I could always rob a few slig lockers.” Relb asked with a positive attitude.

“Yeah, I’ll try and get some weapons as well. I’ve got a handy contact.” Rol told them.

“Ok then,” Relb said. “Me and Rol will get the weapons. Everyone else, if you see anything worthwhile, take it.” He turned to Joe. “When we leaving?”

“Tomorrow night.” Joe replied.

-----

i know about the swearing, but it would be a massive pain to try and tone it down now; its all already written up.

Nah, the swearing's fine in this chapter.

Very good. So... how long do you plan to wait for the next chapter? A day? A week?

Not too long, I hope :)

Down-toning of swearing at this point is not really feasible. This seems interesting, and you really set the mood. But I'm not sure if mudokons would know all that much about weapons and how they work. You can only learn so much from watching sligs fire their's. A fine description of the free-fire zone too. Seems very accurate as well.

thanks folks, and yes, i can see how it may seem like they're gearing up for an 'Arnold Schwarzenegger-styled' escape, but when they say weapons they mean anything they can get their hands on. it'd be pretty hard to get their hands on guns, anyway.

-----

They polished off the rest of the bottle between them, and slept. Joe had a strange dream. He dreamt he had been caught by sligs in the free-fire zone, and that they were taking Joe to a tall, wooden stake sticking out of the ground.

The sligs were crowding around Joe, all jeering and shouting, then Joe noticed a face. It was Crob in the crowd. He called out to him, but Crob just smiled at him. it wasn’t a warm, comforting smile, it was an evil, sinister smile.

Then Joe was picked up by the feet as well as his arms and was being carried to the stake by sligs. He then noticed another face in the raging crowd of grimacing slig faces. It was Relb. Once again Joe called out to him, but Relb just winked at him. An unsettling wink, meaning there was a lot more for Joe to enjoy yet.

Joe came ever closer to the giant stake, and noticed yet another face in the crowd. It was Muller. Joe called out to him, but it was in vain. Muller laughed; not a cheerful laugh, but a deep, disturbing cackle.

Joe was right next to the Stake now, but before he was lifted up, he noticed another face in the crowd. It was Rol. He screamed out to him, terrified, but Rol spat in Joe’s face.

Joe was lifted up to the top of the stake, and he could feel its sharpened point pressing into his stomach. They began to pull Joe towards the floor. Joe let out a scream as the point began to slowly pierce his skin. He saw blood start to drip down onto the grassy ground, then he woke up.

Joe awoke with Crob’s concerned face looking down on him.

“Wake up. You were shouting in your sleep.” He said.

“Fucking hell, Joe! If your that scared, don’t bother coming!” Rol remarked as he climbed out of the hole and into the air vent passage.

“Give it a rest, Rol.” Crob answered.

Joe stood up from his position on the floor, and noticed that Relb was sitting on a crate, looking like he had just woke up, and Muller was asleep on the floor. Crob walked over to Muller and prodded him on the shoulder.

“C’mon Muller. Get up.”

“Why’s he always the last one to get up?” Relb moaned, rubbing his eyes.

Muller yawned and turned over.

“Oi!” Relb shouted, and pushed Muller with his foot.

“The buzzer hasn’t gone yet.” Muller mumbled in a sleepy daze.

The buzzer sounded.

“Ha ha! It has now! Come on Muller, you’ll have the sligs kickin’ seven shades o’ shit outta’ ya’ if you don’t get up.” Relb said, standing up and stretching.

“Wake up, Muller! If we go now we can get the best bits of meat from the canteen!” Joe said.

Muller stirred, and slowly got up, at which point Relb was already climbing out of the hole. Muller, Crob and Joe all went to the canteen together, while Relb went to fetch his equipment from wherever it was he left them the day before.

Joe walked into the canteen, his friends in tow, and was glad to see that there was no stain on the floor from the mudokon that had been shot the day before. The canteen was virtually empty, so he walked up to the hatch, took a large piece of cooked meat, and slapped it onto a metal tray, Crob and Muller doing likewise. They sat at a metal table by the wall, and ate.

“I haven’t had breakfast for a week, now.” Crob said, filling his mouth with the salty flesh.

“Yeah,” Muller began, mouth full. “Nor have I.”

Joe took a bite out of his meat, and chewed its tough density. He then spoke.

“I wonder what shit we’ll be cleaning up today?”

“I’ve gotta’ go back to this slig today, and ask him what to do.” Muller informed. “He told me yesterday to go back to his post for more work.”

“More like a beating. Be careful Muller, sligs are sneaky bastards.” Crob warned.

“No no no, he’s alright really! He gives me safe jobs, not like them other sadistic sligs.” Muller said, shovelling more meat into his mouth.

“Well, think of me when your doin’ whatever, ‘cus I’ve gotta’ oil and grease up a few meat saws, and then I’ve got to climb down a meat grinder shoot and unblock the stupid thing, while its still on!” Crob said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Just make sure you don’t kill yourself, Crob. We need you for tonight.” Joe said, finishing off the last piece of his meat.

“Oh shit, yeah! I’d forgotten about that.” Crob told them.

“Oh…don’t remind me. I feel sick whenever I think about it. You do know we’re all gonna’ die.” Muller said, leaving the rest of his meat.

“Ah can it!” Crob said in reaction to this. “The only way we’ll all die is if we try and do it without being prepared. Rol and Relb are getting some weapons, we’ve got the brains of the operation,” Crob said as he pointed at Joe. “Behind us. Its gonna’ be fine!”

But Muller was right. It was very risky, and could ultimately lead to the bloody demise of all of them, at the hands of slig guards. Joe got butterflies in his stomach as he thought of this.

“You alright?” Crob asked. “You’ve gone quiet?”

“Its nothing.” Joe lied. “Lets go before the sligs come in to eat.”

-----

rather long.

Though it appears to lack a bit of actual "Happening" (I can't find the word at the moment) it really kind of helps to build up the suspense from the last chapter, and if this was a real book, I'd be on my toes at this point.

If this was a real book I'd buy it. Good job MA.

cheers you two. and god, please don't say you're feeling suspense building up for the end, because i just know the ending is going to be a massive anticlimax. i may try to rewrite it, as i am not too happy with it.

to be honest, i'm not too happy with this whole thing. its alright, but i don't think it holds a candle to Glory Slig. i poured what i had into that, this one seems more like an experimental story. more effort next time i think.

anywho;

-----

Joe gathered his bucket and cloth from walkway nine, noticing the corpse had been removed. He wondered who took the dead bodies in Rupture Farms, and assumed they must have been busy. Joe visited the water tank to refill his bucket with fresh water, that’s when a slig approached him.

“You! Get down to the factory line in processing. They need another hand to work the conveyor belt since that last chump got crushed.” The slig barked at Joe.

Joe couldn’t help himself, curiosity getting the better of him, and asked how the mudokon got crushed.

“Not that it matters, but the fan belt bust and made the giant propeller fall out and kill him. Now get goin’!” The slig informed, sharply.

Joe left his bucket and cloth at the water tank, probably not needing it ever again if things went well tonight, and set off for the processing section of Rupture Farms.

Joe spent the rest of the day in front of a massive propeller that had fallen on the ground, motionless. The body was still underneath it, to Joe’s disgust, and a pool of blood surrounded it. Joe tried not to look, but whenever he did look, he only saw the cold dead feet, the rest hidden under the mass of iron.

Working the conveyor belt in processing consisted of pulling a lever all day once you had checked the random piece of meat for any cartilage or unwanted products. If the meat did have some cartilage, you had to blast it off with the water hose and then pull the lever for the next piece of meat to come through.

The meat itself was huge, bigger than a mudokon, and had random bones jutting out from the sides. Some looked like rib cages, others just looked like a bony mass of meat.

Eventually, the buzzer sounded, and Joe walked in procession with the other mudokons that had been working on the conveyor belt, towards the exit of the processing section, as it was one of the sections on the edge of Rupture Farms territory.

Joe wasn’t feeling hungry, and was in fact feeling very nervous. Later that day he would either be dead or free. A stark contrast. He did not stop off at the canteen, and went straight to the hole.

“Hello, trooper!” Relb welcomed Joe when he entered the hole.

“Alright. Been on the conveyor belt in processing all day. Boring as hell.” Joe replied.

Relb was standing by a crate in the corner, while Muller was leaning against the crate that the tin cans were on, looking at his feet, fidgeting.

“Whats up, Muller? Nervous?” Joe asked.

“What? Oh…I dunno, I’ve never done anything like this before.” He answered rather nervously.

“Hey, Joe! Why weren’t you at the canteen?” Crob shouted as he jumped down into the hole.

“Oh, you know, weren’t that hungry after this morning.” Joe said, still looking at Muller.

“We really gonna’ do this?” Crob asked, looking from Joe to Relb, who was now sitting on the crate in the corner.

“We certainly are.” Relb answered plainly.

“Well, its better than this dump, aint it?” Joe said in an attempt to console them.

“Evening!” Rol yelled to them all as he jumped into the hole.

“Hello mouth.” Crob said sarcastically.

“Guess what I’ve got!” Rol said, excited at the prospect of gathering weapons and escaping from Rupture Farms.

“What?” Joe asked.

Rol pulled three different knives out of his loincloth, and placed them spread out on the crate Muller was leaning against.

“Now we’ll show these sligs who’s boss!” Rol added as everyone else looked at the knives.

“Where’d you get ‘em?” Muller asked, picking one up that had a black handle and serrated edge.

“Swapped a pack of smokes for them.” Rol informed, beaming.

“Jeez, I didn’t know you were that easily pleased.” Relb commented, stealing Rol’s thunder.

“Oh yeah! Well if your so good, show us what you got!” Rol said, picking up a knife with a carved wooden handle and tucking it in his loincloth.

“I’d be careful what you put down there, Rol!” Crob said, laughing and picking up the last knife, which had a brass handle.

“I’ll show you what I got!” Relb said, then taking something out the back of his loincloth.

He pulled out a large pistol.

“Whoa!” Muller exclaimed as the others gasped.

“Shitting hell! Where the hell did you get that?!” Rol said, outraged that Relb had beaten him.

“I told you I’d rob a few lockers! Had to go through about five before I found somethin’ worth while though.” Relb said, showing off his new toy.

“Hang on a minute! Where’s my weapon?” Joe asked, it suddenly dawning on him that he was the only one without a weapon.

“Do you really think you’d actually use it if you had one?” Rol asked, a spiteful look on his face. “You aint got the guts, mate.”

“Oh leave it out, Rol! Not before we fucking go to our deaths!” Crob said, ceasing any further advances in the argument.

Then there was a retching sound, to which Relb made a sound in disgust. Joe, Crob and Rol all turned around to see that Muller had vomited all over the floor, and stood there, bent over.

“Fucking hell! You ok Muller?” Joe asked.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” He said, still bent over, looking at his breakfast.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to!” Relb said mercifully.

“And where would I go if you lot left? I’d be here on my own.” Muller replied, then looking at the factory roof high above, saliva and sick hanging from his open mouth.

“Jeez, wipe your mouth Muller.” Crob said, frowning at Muller’s display.

Muller wiped his mouth, and looked at his knife.

“Ha ha! You ok now, Muller?” Rol said, unhelpfully.

“You really do pick the moments, don’t ya’ Rol.” Crob said, as Rol laughed.

“Ok then. Are we gonna’ do it?” Joe asked, to which he received four nods. “Alright, lets go.”