Ill-Gotten Credit

[GunFreak]

Out of the starlight, hidden in space,
my quarry races by me at a frantic pace.
I picked up the job from an ammonia-breathed snob
and I'm to bring back the body of this unfortunate slob.
I fire up her engines, and pull out from the 'roid;
my Nova's jonesing to have her twin BHEPT's deployed.

So I follow him slowly, with my IFF green
til he's 10 clicks from gate and thinks he's unseen.
Then I pop on the j-drive and pop out of space
and I show up before him with white terror on his face.
A Disco goes easy, when you bear full arms down;
within five seconds it's no longer around.

So I open the bay and I haul in the ex-Split,
and I jump back to Queen's Space to offload it.
A million credits later, a drink at the bar,
and I've picked up a new job to kill 'neath the stars.
Keep your deals clean, and your temper in check,
or my sweet bead of plasma will run down your neck.

[pixel]

a few signs of severe straining to get the rhyme, but strangely compelling.

I Like the ending

[gillrichard]

Keep your deals clean, and your temper in check,
or my sweet bead of plasma will run down your neck.

Yes Sir

Good effort,

[simonnance]

hmmmmm sweeeet plassssma.......

exelent job my good man!

[raliel]

I am really enjoying the poetic turn this Board has taken recently...
great work!

[Sagan]

Good one!!

[GunFreak]

Yeah, sorry if the meter is absent. I had about five minutes between crises here at work to squeeze the ol' creative juices. I had resolutions about using "slob" but kind of made it keep on the "edgy" theme.

After Love's Blazing White Sun, I decided to shorten these up a bit as well. Seems the country song theme doesn't fit the X-universe