Cole appears wearing his halo armor and as close to Drake as can as he looks around. Cole finds himself on the front steps of a large expensive church surrounded by abandoned fast food establishments. It's night and it's raining. Cole snaps, and a massive magazine fed shotgun appears in his hands as he walks up to the doors, trying to swing them open. They open as the cultists in robes turn to face him. Drake stands at the altar, dressed in a dark robe. She pulls the hood down, "Cole, buddy!"
"Don't call me buddy," Cole's visor may be down but Drake can tell he is not happy with her.
"Cole friend look at how good all is," Drake makes her way down some steps with a wide smile.
Cole aims at Drake, "Stay the fuck away from me, you goddamn rat."
Drake puts her paws up, "No need for ouchie hurt! Why mad?"
"Give me the cult back and maybe I won't put a fucking stupid amount of lead into you."
"Had chance but pick to sign wrong form, want do paper work?"
"The fucking form was confusing! I don't wanna do paper work!"
"Could give church if sign right forms! Next form is used honey mustard packets ownership transfer form 84B! Yippee! We love used honey mustard packets ownership transfer form 84B!" Drake tosses her arms up in celebration as the cultists applaud.
"You're fucking terrible, give me the correct form or I'm gonna blow you clean in half and maybe lose my hand."
"Not allowed, not sign permission license for doing so"
"Give me the license then bitch"
"Is Cole have fishing license in state of Texas?"
"Yes actually"
"Not allowed unless revoke, exclusive"
Cole sets his shotgun down and pulls out his wallet, revealing a fishing license for the state of Texas.
"Give," Drake holds out a hand
Cole hands it to Drake and puts his wallet away.
Drake holds it close to her face and whispers "I've always wanted to go fishing legally in Texas!" she puts the licenses away in her robe.
"Is that good enough for you?" Cole reaches down to pick up his shotgun.
"No"
Cole aims it at Drake, "What do you mean no?"
"Mmmmmm no," Drake smiles.
"Fucking explain, what do I need to do?"
"How about you go back to your pissbaby house, lean on a wall, and cry to Chris about how someone stole all your toys." She gives a sweet smirk.
Cole shakes with anger, "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" Cole pulls the trigger on the shotgun and a wall of lead pellets hit Drake with a massive boom. They rip through the robe as Cole sees a spray of grape soda for blood splash behind her. Drake slowly raises off the ground, slightly in the air, as she giggles some.
[ROLL FOR ATTACK]
Cole fires his shotgun again at Drake, as wires crawl out from the wall, sliding on the ground like snakes. One with an exposed blender blade slices at Cole's ankle from behind. Cole groans as he turns around and flips off the blender blade snake. He fires the shotgun at Drake again. The wires slow to a stop and Drake falls out of the air, bleeding out. She hits the ground with a thud. Cole taps Drake on the head with his boot and keeps his shotgun aimed at her. Drake's eye twitches slightly.
"Whatever." Cole starts walking over to the altar of the church with a quiet, manic giggle. The cult is watching his every move. Cole slams his shotgun on the altar, "Your god was weak! I fucking killed them in like 3 shots!"
The cultists begin talking quietly amongst themselves. A lot of them are unsure what's happening, but Cole manages to hear one mention something about the next Drake.
Cole points to them, "You! What did you say!"
The cult members around the one that spoke take a step away from them as the one who spoke shakes nervously, "What? Me?"
"YES!" Cole aims his shotgun at them, "WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT A NEXT DRAKE?"
"W-when is the uh...next Drake coming?"
"I am the next Drake, plain and simple"
"That's uhh...what's your number?"
"302-650-7671"
"That's not an accepted serial number"
"It is now," Cole looks around for a computer. He doesnt see any computers, but a few people that look like a cartoony version of Drake's mascots from the advertisments that are standing off to the side of the seats. "Oh wait my uh number is 493," Cole eyes the mascot's as he starts thinking
The cult members look at each other, a bit confused, as one of the mascots tilts their head slightly, beginning to walk towards Cole. Cole lets them walk up to him as he watches them carefully.
The mascot is looking Cole up and down intently as it speaks like Drake, "Who is?"
Cole's voice matches drakes as he replies, "Am Drake"
"Why is 493 outside of 493 land?"
"Needed replacement"
"Replace is created and given number, you are not"
"Misunderstand am sorry"
"Need see face," the other mascots in the room are slowly stepping closer. Cole takes a deep breath and takes the helmet off to reveal that his face has changed to look exactly like Drake and he smiles at them. They stare for a long moment as their eyes dart around, looking at his face. "Need go back to 493 land"
"But want stay please," Cole does puppydrake eyes.
"Need follow rules, go to land, rule people in land," One of the mascots slips out a thin black needle. Cole starts shaking as he looks at the needle, and the Drake face briefly flickers back to Cole's face. The mascots perk up a bit seeing the flicker, "Cole?"
Cole nods still clenching his fists and shaking violently. The mascot closest to Cole slips out a thin needle and takes a step towards him. Cole steps back as the Drake face disappears to reveals Cole's terrified and almost crying face.
"Cole, please come here, need make better," they step closer. Cole shakes his head and steps back as he raises his arms. Vents open on his forearms.
"Clam Cole please," say the mascots. The smell of jet fuel fills the air as 12 foot flames eject from Cole's forearms, aimed directly at the mascot's chests. They stumble back as they are engulfed in flames.
"J-just l-leave me alone!" Cole closes his eyes and tries to reach for a needle as his hand shakes more, one is dropped on the ground within reach. Cole barely cracks his eyes open as he grabs it and aims a stab on one of the mascots. He stabs the leg of one of the mascots as they yelp. A few are getting up.
"F-fuck you," Cole stands up a shaking and crying mess as he grabs his helmet and looks out to the cultists, "b-bored.exe e-execute"
The mascot that was stabbed with the needle goes limp as the others pull out needles. Cole flips them off and disappears.