Seymour - "Recoil"

Who: Mk9, Seymour, Phil, Efof (and anyone else here that isn't going
to the castle)
Where: The third quarry
When: After Phil's post
Seymour had barely finished retching when MK9 thrust a weapon in
Seymour's hands.
Seymour was not normally accustomed to going into combat situations so
handled the gun as he would a bottle of Blossom Hill from threashers –
at arms length.
"What on Earth do you want me to do with this?" He said.
Mk9 ahead of him kicked a zombie in the back of the knee, and when it
went down, shot it at close quarters in the skull.
"Shoot some zombies! We need to clean up all this mess before they
terrorise the entire of Mars."
"But… but I'm a Royal Ambassador, I don't do … `killing'."
"Just imagine they're all chavs, does that help?"
Amazingly it did. In Seymour's mind he replaced the horde of rotted,
mangled, barely human walking corpses for tracksuit wearing scallys
with pockets full of dole money, and by doing that he felt a lot
closer to his weapon. He pulled up the large gatling gun weapon that
Mk9 had given him and fired.
He was not ready for the recoil however and Seymour flew backwards,
landing in a rotten corpse's mushed head. Seymour pressed his eyes
firmly shut as he didn't want to think about what he had fallen on. He
braced himself and put his hands on the ground to push himself up –
but inadvertently put his thumb into a dead zombie's eye socket, and
the mushed contents oozed out.
Seymour whined and almost cried. And when he managed to stand upright
he realised he still had a soft zombie head attached to this hand, his
thumb picking it up like a bowling ball.
Seymour took one look at it and vomited onto it. He shook the vomit
soaked zombie head and it flung off, which Efof caught because he
thought it was some kind of game.
Seymour grasped his smoking gun looked towards the zombie he had
originally been aiming at. "I shot him, I shot him!" He said.
"No actually, I shot him." Said Mk9. "You shot ME! Then I had to
finish him off." Mk9 then trudged a few metres to pick up his arm that
Seymour had blown cleanly off.
<Tag!>

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