WHO: Ash Williams and OTA WHAT: Waking up somewhere new WHERE: The Theater RATING: TBD (Probably pg-13 at least) WARNINGS: Swearing STATUS: Open and in progress
The spell should have taken Ash back home.
That was the plan but Ashley J. Williams (Ash to his friends, the chosen one to primitive screwheads) had a shitty track record when it came to spells, portals and time travel in general. It was the words that fucked up the trip. Ooogily boogily or whatever that gibberish was that Ash was suppose to say to magically transport him back home. It obviously hadn't worked as Ash awoke to find himself in a run down old theater. "Well, this is just great. Where the fuck am I now?" At least it wasn't the dark ages but Ash didn't recognize this place one bit. Thinking he was alone, Ash began talking to himself out loud, trying to figure out what to do first.
"Alright, first things first: Where's my gun?" His trusty twelve-gauge double-barreled Remington shotgun that had survived the trip through time but wasn't by Ash's side or strapped to his back when he woke up spread eagle in the middle of the aisle. The natural place to look was around the nearby seats, which Ash did for a few minutes, muttering under his breath. "Goddamn wiseman, goddamn spells, goddamn BOOK!", Ash swore with his voice rising. "Why the hell do they make those spells so fucking hard to say? I don't--hey, there you are".
Among the red theater seats rested Ash's trusty boomstick. Immediately he checked his ammunition and found the shotgun was empty. "Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me. I just loaded this damn thing four centuries ago!" His chainsaw wasn't too far from the gun but like the gun, was completely empty. "This is bullshit", he groaned as he sat down in one the chairs near the aisle. "I'm in a possibly hostile environment with no ammunition. This is just perfect!"