Kels has been hounding N to play this game forever. Not really, but some canine instinct to flee settles in pretty quick as we hit the dog pound, or Dogg Pound, rather. How does Snoop Dogg/Lion’s effort to make a brawler stand up? Is it mere bark or bite? NOTE: The juttery footage is an artifact of our capture, not the game. Not that you should play this game, but that shouldn’t be your reason why. I mean, it could be.
Part 2 (Read Part 1 here)
No one could hear the phone ringing over the sound of roaring vacuums and high-powered fans. It was a hot summer day in New York and the FleshEatingZipper crew was well on their way to getting that old fire house ready for action again.
“God, it’s so hot!” Kelly said.
“Hot as balls,” Rob said.
N dried off a desktop with a rag, then plumped down into a chair. “This one’s mine!”
“Yeah, right.” Rob said. The desk sat next to the building’s massive, ancient AC unit which vented frigid air directly at it.
“Nah, I got that shit.” Kelly said.
The door creaked and Johnny stepped in.
“Close the door, close the door!” The trio said. Johnny complied and set down two boxes of donuts and a carton of coffee.
“What kind is that?” Rob said.
“Starbucks?” Johnny said.
“I don’t give a fuck, I’ll drink it all!” Kelly said, laughing.
“Hey, did anyone hear a phone ringing? Earlier?” Rob said.
N looked at the donuts, tempted.