[e11even]

At Rich Gentlemen's Whims...
In Vegas, it pays dividends to have the winning chip.
Plain citizens get maimed and missing, pretending wit
is the way to survive. That's where I paint the vivid pic.
The government here is a private dear to The Sydicate.
Its quite intricate the membership of pocketed politicians it
has. And for one man to have so many people at wit's end with him,
'Brokenfoot' should be dead already. So we, the Kallektors, are the minutemen
Called upon to 'retrieve' this missing roulette ball...
A Manhunt is what its best called. I'm Pierce. We have Betts, Kahn,
and who could forget our resident native who forgets all
common civility and takes heads off. Peyote bakes him, but thats when he's dead calm.
"I wanna cut his throat out, Pierce. I can smell his sweat..."
"Pall, relax. He can't get far out here. You'll get your big chance, 'cause
The coyotes and vultures will nibble his legs gone if that dickhead falls!"
That got a smile out of him. "Lets stay alert and hydrated as we tread on..."

The Valiant & Headstrong...
In Vegas, it pays dividends to know your enemy and terrain.
Plain citizens get liquified brains and cannibalized remains
getting lost on these plains. Acid and peyote are anything but strange
when they navigate you beyond devils that appear to the dehydrated untrained.
The environment isn't man-made. It follows uncontrollable chains,
each link playing its part in a well-connected exchange. This is where it gets vague.
From the insects on the surface, to the birds lining up talons with prey,
Man is but an instrument in the middle, a fiddle with torn strings, as his purpose is gray.
I'm Brokenfoot, a proud land inhabitant who's outgrown by his days,
A stubborn native with beads and feathers, guarding what my ancestors made.
These paleskins embezzled our birthrights, then kill us for standing,
Employ us as 'cattle-herders' with brainwashings and opportunistic ramblings.
What's sad is we have fallen for and to this since they made landfall.
Now a broken foot will mend losses in a final standoff.

Pierce's men advanced for hours as heat danced in wavering towers.
"Fuck, it's hot." Betts's melanin atoned, but fatigued through sweat's belaboring showers.
"You hear that?" Kahn's eyes roamed, darting across the landscape like playful prowlers.
The four man squad was slowly decomposing into a madness, devoured
By an insatiable lust for the kill. F2000's were powered
With a caliber far superior to an arrow tip and feather quill. "Howard
Pierce..." Flinching violently, Pierce reacts with flailing strafes,
"I'll make you pay!" A glimmer flickers and impails Betts's nape.
"An arrow? What the fuck?! Kahn! What do you see?!"
"There's a man near that lake!" He aims, dazed... foaming out of his teeth.
"What lake?! Fuck! I still have Pall and Kahn... KAHN!"
-"This is our land you placed those casino strips on....."-
An eagle soared above, orbiting the diminishing squad.
-"You are but a manipulative pawn... ironic. A conniving moron."-
"Shut the fuck up! Pall and Kahn! Get this jerkoff!" Pierce motioned beyond.
"I can't see shiii-...ARRGGHHH!" Brokenfoot appeared, freeing Kahn's spine of his tomahawk.
"Ever danced with wolves, Pierce?" A searing fear crept over him.
"Its Pall and I against you... what makes you think you're gonna win?"
"I already have." Brokenfoot vanishes into a tan mist, Kahn's head in hand,
Leaving Pierce to sink into a quicksand pit. "Pall! Help me goddamit!"
"Good leadership begets loyalty, Pierce... he's mine." Pall advances.
"You really wish to do this?" Both moving, readying a melee exchange.
"After you..." Hatchet and bayonet clashes and TWANGs with lashes and BANG hits.
Two head smashes, leg sweeps, forarm bashes and chest kicks
left them winded. Two warriors from a village raped for its culture and land strips.
The brawl continued, taking a pause with Pall in headlock with both in a horizontal sandwhich...
"WoundedCalf, why have you turned on the last of us? Why be a paleskin pretender?"
And before getting his neck snapped, Pall hissed,
"My brother was the perfect one til I broke his foot and deserted agenda..."