“Well I feel /naked/ without my hat thank you.” He teased as he went to the ladder and swung around, sliding down the metal poles. He landed softly, hissing at the feeling of the stitches stretching somewhat before he marched inside and returned to his room to pick up a bat he had found not too long ago. “Sonofabitch dodges this it’ll hurt like fuck.” He muttered as he rested the Boston Basher on his shoulder and with a wicked grin, he began to make his way for the Wing.
Elliot hummed to himself as he twirled his hat on a finger before putting it on his head and grinned as the song came on. “And he’s gonna get high-igh-igh when he’s low, low low~ The fi-er burns for better days!” He chimed as he marched into the Wing. Pappy looked up from his notes and raised a brow, soon they were furrowed. <Elliot, what are you doing here.> He snapped as he stood, but he was soon clubbed on the side of the head by the Boston Basher as the many nails that stuck of the bat made contact with the soft flesh. Pappy was flung to the other side of the room and he quickly sat up clutching his bleeding head. He hissed a he looked up at Elliot who held the bat and stood over him, the hat shadowed his face. “And she screams, ‘why, oh, why?’ and I said ‘I don’t know’. The chatastrophic hymns from yesterday… OF MISERY!” he brought the bat down again, but Pappy quickly avoided it. The bat bounced off of the wall and clipped Elliot’s side. The side effect of the weapon was that if you missed, you would end up hurting yourself. Elliot didn’t even flinch from the pain as he watched Pappy begin to struggled to get on his feet only to have a hand wrapped firmly around his ankle as he pulled him down. He raised the bat and brought it down heavily on the leg he was holding. Bones snapped and cracked and Pappy let out a roar of pain as Elliot laughed. “Well Vinnie was a hustler out of Amsterdam. He ran the drug cartel in Tinseltown. They found him in a Cadillac bludgeoned with a base-ball-bat~” He chimed as he drove the bat down again, blood splattering the walls and his face every time he brought the bat back up.
FUCK I SCARE MYSELF. ELLIOT LEAVE PAPPY ALONE eventhoughheexperimentedonyoursniper I STILL FEEL BAD FOR MY PSYCHOTIC MEDIC OKAY.
Elliot - Scout & Pappy - Medic (c) ME.
