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"Who Doesn't Like a Pipsi?"


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Clarence McClanston was a "normal man". He enjoyed seeing his wife and his two daughters on his days off. He went to work 9-5 five days a week like a good man should... But that was before.

He was off on a business trip getting his Company's product into supermarkets all over Chernarus. "Pipsi" it was a drink of satisfactory taste, Rival to Notacola in the country, Personally Clarence was secretly more of a fan to Notacola.

After a long day of convincing the Hosptal in Elektrozavodsk to install one of his companies delightful Pipsi Machines. He decided to Drive home that night instead of in the morning with his companions. It was 1:30am when he got the text that his daughter was sick. He was in the country side headed home to Novodmitrovsk when the collapse happened...

He knew of the rioting, he had deemed it silly unrest until the radio brodcasts about the "rioters" interupted his music stations. He was on the phone with his wife as his eldest daughter tore her sister and then finally her mother apart...

That had been a while ago...

This Clarence isn't the Pipsi Salesman from Novodmitrovsk anymore...

He is a Survivor, He has nothing to lose, No reason to continue life other than his basic will to survive. Still holding onto the coat tails of his past life he Hoards cans or Pristine Pipsi in his baggage to sell to any who would Purchase from him.

He got close to Novo once, only once. Sitting on the Cliffside Railroad tracks overlooking the devastated city he once called home, He wept. He built a Moderate fire using sticks and some left over matches from his now almost fully used survival kit he took from his car. The car now left like many other cars in the broken down gas station of Svetlojarsk.

There was a noise.

A Smaller figure slowly grew form from he edges of the fires light, she couldnt possibly be more than 7 or 8, wearing a sunday dress and a red bookbag... Eyes lost and whitened, Black ooze dribbled out of the side of her mouth. Her half Destoyed leg keeping her from charging Clarence. Stunned in fear, and with the painful memories of his own daughters, he would of let her get to him. That would of been the end, but as she got near the fire, a bolt flew forth.... ppfft into her head. The undead child in front of clarence toppled down into the fire with a light thud.

Without seeing his savior (or saviors) Clarence looked Blindly into the Dark and Stated the first thing in his mind, his old sales pitch.

"Who Doesn't Like a Pipsi"

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  • Sapphire

-snip-

Damn! Love it!

Everytime I see a vending machine I'm going to think of you fella!

And who are these mystery crossbow-ists (crossbow-ites, crossbow-ees?)

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  • Sapphire

My buddies if they ever finish their application backstory...

Nice, well maybe Clyde will by a Pipsi from you one day fella. Although he's more of a Rasputin Kvass man.

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