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Whiskey WitA/N: Swat Kats fanfiction. Someone pointed out that I made Feral an articulate drunk. I just figure he is a very talented kat. Deal with it!Whiskey Wit by Rambling-anthology
It's not the flying that scares me, it's the people. Too many variables. At least the flight attendants are no longer arguing with my alcohol consumption. No, with the trash filling with tiny, empty bottles of rum, take this plane down. Now, sprawled out on the isle seat, all I have to worry about is her.
Ann Gora, it's strange seeing her without a microphone in her hand. She keeps looking over at me and smirking. She said she's going to pick up some award. Maybe she thinks she's better than me, the last award I won was the fifth grade spelling bee. She does have a cute smile, if I showed up with her on my arm it may make this family reunion interesting. I shake my head, that's just the rum talking.
The flight attendant brings another two bottles, along with an unop
Due DiligenceA/N: Swat Kats fanfiction. I feel bad that Feral doesn't get enough attention. He's kind of a hardass, yes, but he's doing what he thinks is right. Give him a break! I have a lot of respect for the kat.Due Diligence by Rambling-anthology
I also might or might not have a thing for older guys.Don't judge me.
Midnight, the quiet hour. Even the janitor has gone home. Paperwork was never my strong suit, but it is a necessity. It keeps me and every other Enforcer in line. I just wish it didn't keep me here so damn late. Curse this accident report...I don't even know how Johnson managed to shoot himself in the foot.
My kingdom for a steak and a beautiful woman.
I lay down the last bit of work and grab my jacket, ready for the front door. The light in my office is the last to go off. Even in the darkened hallway, I know which way to go. I make my way right, the faint glow of the vending machine in the next hall guiding me.
Before I turn the corner I hear the vending mach
Somber ShadowA/N: Those who know my fanfiction writing know how much I love background characters-they're so much more fun to work with. My victim in this story is the great Commander Ulysses Feral, from the 90's cartoon Swat Kats. And if you're expecting a mush romance with Callie forget it! To be on the safe side, I'll rate this PG-13 for minor cussing and depressing themes. And I hope writing in the first person isn't too distracting-you guys are gonna have to tell me how you like it, I've never written in first person before. Enjoy.Somber Shadow by Rambling-anthology
"Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect." ― Margaret Mitchell
I stare at the glass of scotch in front of me. '93, a good year. Almost a shame this is the last taste I'll have. I ponder briefly if the drink is worth putting away the pistol in my lap.
I'm not depressed, I've just been a pallbearer more times than I'd care to admit. My head aches with the thought of fallen comrades and I close my eyes, but the darkness brings back the c