Wow. I don't know what's worse: the threat of unpleasant genetic mutation or the ceaseless (mindless?) repetition of "DIE, BRAD, DIE!"
As far as the
lying goes, those kind of statements just go to show what kind of character Ryan's... uh... character has. To accuse a nice, young, honest gentleman of dishonesty! Especially in a time of bereavement! I'll have each and every one of you know that I would not lie to you. Honest.
Anyhow, to pick up where Ryan left off...
The character who was
truthfully more interesting was a young, gum-chewing P.I. by the name of Charlie Goon (BC... how original. Sounds like an abbreviation for a part of a third world country). Charlie, who did
truly hear of some treasure in the crypt, unwittingly joined forces with a shifty, untrustworthy former professional fencer (
former fencer? How made-up-sounding is that!), only to witness the awakening of some undead baddies at said crypt. After Ryan's character (let's call him... oh, I don't know... RC) ran away like a professional
sprinter, Charlie Goon crept back to the crypt to nab the loot. Come to find out, all mention of the loot was a trick to get me to the crypt. And it worked. Twice. I was attacked by the undead corpse of my rich uncle and nearly killed. After escaping with the dregs of my life, I did not return to the crypt a third time (damn you, hindsight!). Instead I stumbled through the woods, fleeing the gruesome beasts who had awakened from their unholy graves. As I reached the road, I was almost struck down by the speeding motorcar that RC, the less interesting character, was so recklessly driving. It seems that after shreiking and fleeing, RC had joined up with whom I assumed was a young gardner (I'd introduce you, but...). RC picked me up, presumeably out of guilt for abandoning me, and we sped off to the airstrip. Once we were there RC loaded me into the plane, climbed into the pilot's seat, and abandoned his new friend to certain doom at the hands (tentacles?) of the abomination he had awakened elsewhere on the island.
Oh, and we each inherited a thousand smackers.
