[mitsur]

For documentation....

OWF - The Untold Legend

OWF - The Untold Legend 1.5

This will be the sequel to the blockbuster (in my opinion) OWF - The Untold Legend. Although some of you might be going, "Hey! There's already this topic! I got all confused and slammed my head repeatedly into a metal spike!” I'm going to pretend that thread never happened.

Anyways, I shall start this story with a few reminders:

1. Please, consult me on anything that is related to this story. Be it fan art, alternate chapters, requests for my autograph, whatever. I'd hugely appreciate this, as I'm not really excited at this becoming a long-running fan fic, as they usually get taken advantage of by the less honest members.
2. If you wish to send in plot ideas, or alternate chapters, do not post them here. PM or e-mail me, at xxmitsurxx@hotmail.com. I will most likely reply within two days, so don't be discouraged. All ideas are welcome!
3. If it is art, by all means post it here. It will lend the story strength.

And now, to our feature presentation....

*drum rolls*

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OWF - THE UNTOLD LEGEND 2

PROLOGUE - Somewhere, in The Desert of Ignorance...

The Austin Martin hover car screamed over the dry, cracked ground. Scattered desert brush swirled as the car passed by, leaving a huge wind in its wake. In it, sat two males. One was dressed in a tuxedo; the other looked as if he had put on a Siberian Tiger outfit.

The hover car passed over a cliff, floating on nothing as it zoomed over the desert. The two passengers looked tensely over their shoulders, as though expecting someone to be chasing them.

After about five minutes, they relaxed.

"Thank god..." the tiger-dressed one yelled over the roar of the car.”I think we lost him!"

As he said this, a thunderous roar enveloped the car. A dark shadow passed over the car. The tiger-man looked back. An Apache helicopter had overtaken the hover car.

“Oh, shit! Splat, drive!”

The man, called Splat, floored the accelerator. The car jumped forward, just as the Apache opened up with the guns. Bullets tore into the air where the car had been only moments before.

Splat and the tiger-man ducked instinctively, and Splat pulled out an Uzi, handed it to the tiger-man, and pulled out another. Both men turned simultaneously, and opened fire at the helicopter. Desert of Sparks flashed as the bullets pinged off the bullet-proof glass. Not one mark was made. Splat swore and pulled himself over the driver’s seat, and the tiger-man grabbed the wheel, after moving himself.

“Havoc, hold the car steady! I don’t want to miss!”

Havoc nodded, eyes wide as he realized what was about to happen. He gripped the steering-wheel of the car, his knuckles white.

Splat stood, pulled another two Uzis out of his tuxedo, and balanced on the backseat, carefully planting his feet on the center seat. He swayed slightly, and then looked back to Havoc.

“Open up the top of the shifting stick. Press the third button, and don’t jostle the car at all.”

Havoc nodded, and opened the shifting stick. A multitude of buttons flashed, each of them a bright red. Counting carefully, Havoc pressed the third button.

Nothing short of an explosion occurred in the back seat. The middle chair, with Splat on it, exploded into a white cloud, and he was flung forward, straight at the helicopter. He started to flip forward, and opened fire as he somersaulted over the blades.

The bullets struck the main rotor, and sufficiently loosened it enough to make it pull itself off the helicopter, and send the helicopter on a crash course.

One hundred feet below the chaos, a desert snake hissed, and slid out from under its usual rock. It slithered off, and a roughly 8-ton hunk of metal that looked like an Apache helicopter slammed into the ground, making a crater 5 feet deep. It exploded, sending shrapnel, smoke, and flaming bits of metal everywhere. All occupants died instantly. In the distance, a hover car stopped, turned around, and accelerated back towards the wreck.

Faintly, a small man-shaped speck was hurtling toward the ground at terminal velocity.

At that moment, a teenager was speeding through the sky, and toward the same man. Screaming winds pulled at his clothes and backpack. He tilted upwards, and his angle of descent increased. On the back of the backpack was a single word: MITSUR.

He hurtled through the sky toward Splat, and Splat turned toward Mitsur. He reached out his arms, releasing the two Uzis, which took a very long fall to the ground below. Mitsur reached out, and they both grasped arms. Mitsur nodded, and pulled the parachute cord.

His arms almost detached, and Splat slid in his grip. He gave a small yell, but hung on grimly. Mitsur’s face started to turn red from the effort of hanging onto Splat. He gasped, and the two’s hands slipped again. To make matters worse, bullets erupted from the caves all around the hanging duo.

“Havoc, hurry up! I don’t want to die here; there isn’t any nefarious villain or large amount of women and alcohol!” Splat yelled, flailing uselessly in the empty air. The parachute began to tear from bullet holes, until it split. Mitsur and Splat screamed as they fell, and Mitsur felt overwhelming terror take hold of him, as-

He smacked into the soft leather backseat. Mitsur grunted, and looked back up.

Splat had resumed his position in the driver’s seat, and Havoc grinned back from behind shotgun.

“So anyways, about those five bucks you owe me…” Havoc began. Mitsur rolled his eyes.

“I told you that was a one-time deal. She just needed one more drink to get open-”

“Hey, Powers! Wait, wrong movie….” The voice coughed. “Hey, spaz-boy!”

“Whosaidthat?” Mitsur said, stringing the words into one.

Mitsur swung his head, as Splat pulled a bazooka out of his pocket, and Havoc yawned. The voice was revealed as the evil and nefarious-

“Okay, people! That’s a cut!”

Everyone relaxed, and the car stopped moving. The green screen behind them was shut down, and they all piled out of the car. The fake canyon serving as the set was rolled away. Splat tossed the Styrofoam bazooka back to the props manager, and Mitsur stretched. He sat in his chair, and leaned back. All around, the movie crew was busy preparing the next shot, which would include Mitsur dancing the conga all alone, to Crazy Frog music.

“So, what do you think so far?” Wolfpac asked, leaning around in his director’s chair. “And that’s just the opening credits!”

“Actually, I thought it was good!” Mitsur said, as Havoc and Splat sat down in their own chairs. Splat fell off his, and Havoc scratched up the wood on it with his fake claws.

“So good, it could actually be mistaken as a prologue!”

"Really?"

"Naaaaah."