It was the deepest dive we'd ever made, quite frankly. I was saddled up in my scuba gear, and Franklin was tagging along, without any scuba gear whatsoever. Maybe he was a faggot. I don't know. You don't ask that kind of thing when you're underwater. I told Franklin he'd drown once we got a few kilometers under, but when has Franklin ever listened to me?
So there we were. Underwater. We were about three kilometers down, I guess. We'd jumped from out boat, which was stationed in the approximate middle of the Atlantic Ocean. We didn't have permission. We didn't need any. Franklin always took his little jokes too far. Right now, he kept going on about "Wow, we're descending at about 4 minutes an hour." I wasn't sure about Franklin. He was comparing time with respect to time. You don't do that. Not underwater. You can die underwater.
"Hey, are you sure 4 minutes per hour isn't a bit too fast?" Franklin mumbled and laughed far too much. It was then and there I knew he had to die. Underwater. Like a shark, or a whale. Or some seaweed. I took out the 12- gauge semi-automatic gun and shot Franklin's neck type organ. That caused some trouble, naturally. Air spewed out like lava, but cooler. Presumably. I didn't actually go and measure the temperature, pervert. You don't do that underwater. Unless you're a fucking psycho. Or Franklin. Or both, like the corpse I was swimming with. I don't know why I always kill anyone I go diving with. I think it's the water. After a while, it gets to ya, y'know? Yeah, you WOULD.
So Franklin WAS dead. Personally, I remained quite alive. Franklin's blood tended to spew and murk the water like pitchblende. Maybe worse, I didn't conduct a survey, I was underwater, dammit. The sharks came, obviously to drink the blood, as if they could. Stupid bastards. Well, naturally, I turned my 12 gauge semi-automatic gun on the sharklife. I know I was TECHNICALLY slaughtering fairly innocent animals, but I was down there. Underwater. So you can't judge me.
When the police came, I was paranoid. It happens! You've got billions of tons of water on top of you, who knows, maybe what they say about gravity being less underwater isn't so true. You don't know these things. And anyone who does is a faggot. But there they were. I shot them, like I am prone to do. They were menacing, I thought "Ambush!" and well, killed them. Underwater, naturally!
Although I was underwater, I had enough logic to swim back up to the surface before things got any worse. I jumped, thoroughly thrusting myself upwards. And yet, I was not moving up in the least. I began to think maybe that the water had just stopped being weightless, or 6th weight, or whatever it is, I don't know I don't exactly bring an encyclopedia set with me when I go diving, I'm not some sort of faggot, pervert. Looking about, I saw that a circle had gathering around me, of fairly normal looking humans, and yet they were staring aghast like some beast! I called them faggots and went back to trying to get back to the surface. I removed my weights, slowly, one by one, until there was nothing. NOTHING! What was holding me under?
I stared about at the crowd of faggots, or at least I thought they were faggots, I didn't take the time to find out, I was stuck underwater, dammit. And I kept on yelling like "What the hell? WHAT THE HELL?" I would yell, gently stressing every word until the crowd was ripe with tension. There was no helpful response. I began shooting, quickly as I could, in all seven directions. They were corpse stew within moments, thanks to my 12 gauge semi-automatic gun. Another police car came. Actually, it was more like five. Maybe six, I don't know, I'm not a faggot. I was underwater. People don't understand. They got behind their cars, like faggots, and started shooting at me, of all people.
Naturally I dodged and swayed as best I could, but soon I was punctured in my leg and my right arm. I dropped the 12 gauge semi-automatic gun. I gently sank to the hard, asphalt ocean floor, as I gently bled. I believe it was about then that I managed to feint. Normally I don't feint, of course, seeing as I'm not a faggot, but I was underwater!
When I awoke, I was on a harsh grey bench in some room. There were two men, both looking mean as possible. "What the hell?" I went, being confused, not even sure if I'm underwater or not. So they go on about how I killed an innocent young boy, and about 20 civilians, and about 6 police officers. I explain to them that I was confused, that I was trapped underwater. They ramble on about how I was standing in the middle of a downtown street, above water. Faggots.