Its nothing like the movies (OPEN)

"Perfect." J.R. mumbled. He went to get the fan and got as close as he could to the alein and pointed it and hoped it would litterlly try to blow him away. (Super short post)

The plan did work, partially. As the fan created a vortex in the room, in which a part of the alien dustcloud circled round, an equally massive part darted past the stream and sneaked up behind the fan. The side caused the air containing a massive number of knive-like particles on the other side to be sucked in. These shredded the cheap plastic fans into countless pieces, disabling the fan in the process.

A few of the aliens sharp shards nailed Ace. Leaving large tears in his clothes and causing blood to run down his chest. "You....guh.....jerk!" He shouted. The he sent a large lighting bolt flying towards him and then he jumped to the side to avoid the rest of the little shards. J.R. had turned on the fan and the pieces of 971 where flying around the room like a crazy tornado. Ace sent two more bolts of lightning flying into the sandstorm like whirlwind." J.R. there is no hope with the fan. We have to take him down the old fashioned way. Violence." Ace then causes rain to land on the fans and it sputters and explodes. Send metal pieces flying in all directions and causing electricity to trail through the puddles on the floor caused by the rain. Ace moved the cloud over 971 hoping that the electricity would trail into him. "This has to work." He muttered through gritted teeth.

One bolt of lightning hit something in the storm, and the sand quickly gathered around the spot the bolt hit. The murderous clone alien spinned out of the air, his white hair forming a pale vortex in the process. With a loud smack, he dropped face down to the ground. His shoulder missed a big chunck of flesh, the edges of the wound charred and still smoking. The unmistakable foul odour of burned meat, but not like anything earthly, filled to room. At that very moment, three cops stormed into the room with drawn guns. One of them, a muscular black fellow who was sporting a handlebar moustache, shouted in a very action-movie like fashion: "FREEZE LIKE IT'S MINUS THIRTY, CRACKERS!" His only white co-cop glared at him for a second and whispered softly but audible: "He's super bad, he's outta sight. He's black dynomite." "That was racist , paddie." "Hey, pot, I am kettle." "That's even more racist." "Sorry, man." "It's cool... cracker."

Ace stood back as the police officers came in. "Watch this guy."He said " He has powers and he is extremely dangerous. Ace was hoping to God that Flayer 971 was truly down for the count. He knew that these cops would stand no chance if Flayer healed and attacked again. He was unsure about what to do. "J.R. How can we be sure Flayer is really down and out? I mean this could all be an extremely good act. How do we know that he can't heal?"

( i will post tommorow sorry no internet right now)

"I dont really know if he is completly out or not." J.R. said. He then turned to the cops. What are you doing here? 1. you come here AFTER the fight and 2. You cant beat this person with guns." J.R. said again. He then turned aroud and said to ace. "See if he isreally knocked out if you can. i totally dont kno2 ho2 to check but a older person like you would." J.R. said jokingly.

(Isn't He down on the ground?)

(oh yea edited)

"Ha.Ha." Ace replies coldly at J.R's joke. "I doubt Flayers or whatever have a pulse.Just let the cops cart him out of here."