Path of Vengeance

V Degraded

Jerry's eyes were still watery in response to the plethora of BBs that slapped his precious face. Nevertheless his fists were still solid and ready to swing. Fatty was in no way like the opponents he encountered in Overwatch. This fuzzy wuzzy bastard's threats were truly threatening. Even during their exchange of words, Jerry still refused to see what he had done.

"Listen, little dude: I don't wanna mess you up any further. The door is just downstairs and through the hall." he said, seemingly concerned for the well-being of Fatty.

"You think you're so freaking untouchable." Fatty replied, putting his hands behind his shoulders. "It's far too late, my friend. Death is just on the horizon."

"Maybe for you, doucheface!" Just then, Jerry lunged. Now Fatty expected one swift sidestep would save him some trouble, but he didn't expect to be seized instead of squashed. He found himself being lifted up, eyes practically popping out of his sockets. For once he actually felt afraid and squirmed to prove it.

Bitch! How could things go wrong so fast? I could've sworn I had the upper hand! Wait a minute, I'm still locked and loaded. Given the opportunity, I can light his face up once more...hopefully it'll be worth it.

"Dumbass," Jerry brought the hamster right up to his face, a poor choice on his part. Fatty had not smelled his breath in a while and gagged in response to the returning odor. "You're dead as hell now."

"Whatever you say, compadre!" The restrained imp exclaimed before releasing a torrent of BBs like an MG42. As he emptied his cheeks the grip around his torso loosened and soon enough he was plopped back onto the ground. Jerry hollered and cursed, gripping at his face and pulling down his eyelids in agony.

"You didn't have to do that again, christ!" Fatty took this anticlimactic moment to retreat under the plastic table and observe the situation. He could see Jerry's feet pacing back and forth and took pride as the groans of pain continued. As for the admirable gamer, he spun around and around, arms sort of flapping at his sides like an angry goose, "I swear I'll find you! And when I do...I WILL BE THE LAST PERSON TO KNOW YOU EXISTED!"

"Sheesh." Fatty whispered to himself. The small critter made his way further into the darkness, dust clinging to his thin fur coat. Meanwhile Jerry thought it would be a good idea to obliterate the makeshift trebuchet to show that he was apparently dominant. As he was doing this, Fatty had stumbled across something he had never seen before. It was a pink, 5 inch capsule-looking object. It was covered in dust just like him and it had a strap meant to fit around one's wrist. He decided it would come in handy via some shape or form and used the strap to fit it around his back. Fatty also found a quilting needle, which was mildly convenient. Now was the time to go out there and absolutely murder Jerry to death.

He crept out from under the table, once again exposed to the light of Jerry's bedroom. He held the quilting needle with both paws, keeping it at his right side just like in a videogame he saw Jerry playing on numerous occasions. "Hey, bastard! I'm not finished with you yet, why are you hiding all of the sudden?"

Jerry wanted to answer and maintain his honor. But right now he was in the perfect position to strike. Unbeknownst to Fatty, who was becoming progressively paranoid, Jerry was right above him; trying not to encourage the plastic table he was on to groan beneath the pressure. When his target came into view, Jerry felt his heart begin to beat at an alarming rate.

There is no way — NO WAY I'm going to screw this up. That fuzzy turd isn't going to kill me, not if I have anything to say about it. Still, he is quite formidable. Maybe I shouldn't have mistreated him. Of course I'm only saying that because he is trying to kill me, heh.

By now Fatty had reached the ruins of his once deadly trebuchet. He was careful not to step on any shattered popsicle sticks and other components. He couldn't help but wonder how easily his body could be obliterated with a single stomp. As he was about to move past the wreckage, he felt a hand clamp onto the pink capsule around his back. Shit, I just realized my mistake! He was swiftly snatched up once again, and with such force that he dropped his quilting needle.

"Say," he heard a voice behind him whilst being seized, "You found my mom's pepper spray."

"Pepper spray? What in god's name is tha—"

It was then that the pink capsule around Fatty's back was yanked off and he found himself face to face with Jerry. Wasting no time, the boy popped open the pepper spray and bestowed a great dose of karma on Fatty. It wasn't long before the disgruntled rodent felt as if the interior of his face had been set ablaze. The hamster shrieked as the back of his nose, throat and lungs were accompanied by a fiery sensation. He could hardly process what he was going through and simply pleaded in his animalistic language for the pain to cease.

"Thats what you fucking get, Fatso!" To rub salt into the wound, he spat in Fatty's miserable little face, "Now you're going to think about what you've done."

He tossed Fatty back into his cage not a moment after. "Just you wait. Animal control, or whatever will be here to put you down. And I'm gonna go back to being an MVP, bitch!"

Fatty inhaled and exhaled relentlessly, gathering the strength to snap back despite the painful amount of burning fluid that still inhabited his lungs, "So you're telling me...after all this...that you aren't going to kill me?" He coughed whilst trying to chuckle, "What a fuckin' pussy."

Jerry, seeing the dispirited state of his once great foe, decided to ignore the insult and rushed downstairs, figuring a hamster wouldn't go anywhere under such unfortunate conditions. In truth, he couldn't bring himself to slaughter a defenseless animal — especially with the guilt he unexpectedly received from seeing Fatty so desperate for revenge.