By no means limited to the Mad Max movies, I find it intriguing that so soon after the collapse of civilization, standard conventions of naming and clothing go straight out the window . . .
That kindly mechanic down the street, Roger?
He is now Sphincter Maximus Cab Priori.
Susan from Accounting?
She has become Siren Flora Chloro-Venomous.
The attendants at the municipal aquarium?
They have become the Keepers of the Aquatic Realm Whirl Uplift.
The Esteemed Cab Priori has traded in his greasy overalls for ass-less chaps and a studded leather jacket with ostrich plumage complemented by gator-skin platform boots.
Chloro-Venomous has shaved half her head, colored the other half purple, and now sports a dayglo orange skirt with a tunic overhung with football armor and spiked stilettos.
The Keepers of ARWU in their fishnet vests and seaweed pantaloons gather in their found airboats to pay homage to the great Gia Dalliance Quasar Crush.
And the world only ended two years ago.
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Atbildēt no northcoast
on maijs 25, 2024 at 8:47 PM
I've decided my name will be-- if I survive:
The Big Noggin Mini-Scule Cower Rampant
My wardrobe will consist of headdress of a pillowcase pulled over my head but above my eyes and face, so it looks like my head has a cape.
Footwear will be platform boots with golf cleats.
Upper body will be a black leather jacket with a teal tank top underneath.
Lower body will be torn-up khaki chinos.
Yup, Mr. B.N. M. S. Cower Rampant will be known all across the Blue Sky Memoriam Plateau!