[hr][center][h1][b][color=6ecff6]Jaime Bishop[/color][/b][/h1]
[img]http://www4.pictures.zimbio.com/gi/Tony+Revolori+Sundance+Film+Festival+Portraits+5EHZBkjLgOsl.jpg[/img][/center]
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[center][b]Time:[/b] Morning
[b]Location:[/b] Hoganville, Troup County
[b]Interacting With:[/b] Assface, Dexter, and a whooooole lot of muerte[/center]
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Jaime's famous (or was it infamous?) luck had turned up yet again. What were the chances that he would have stumbled across such a wonderful and perfect little resort like this? Ok, it wasn't really a "resort," but it's a relatively untouched large home with a ton of supplies and amenities. In a world like this, that translated to "resort" and Jaime was more than happy to be squatting here.

He cursed how tired he as when they arrived, it had been so late. He also cursed Dickbag McDickerson's inability to make make his own food. Due to lack of energy, and being a personalized slave, he only had the energy to set up one trap before collapsing on the living room couch. Still, it was a trap he was particularly proud of. Once he had finished using the kitchen, Jaime was able to bundle up all the sharp cooking knives and rigged them to the front door. Once that door opened, down dropped the knives and goodbye brain matter! Actually, thinking on it, he wasn't so proud of it. That was a pretty lethal trap, even for walkers. It made him nauseous, so he forced himself to think about other things.

Other things like the pain in his gut from when that pendejo sucker punched him. Even though it wasn't Jaime's fault he dropped the food on that asshole (messy chancho left his boots in the way, just out of sight), Richard still felt the need to punish him and treat him like livestock. That man made Jaime's blood boil something fierce. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered at all. Sometimes, like right now, he knew exactly why.

Jaime was up, but the other two had been napping. He was the first to spot the oncoming horde, having been positioned on the top of the roof, acting as lookout. Rather than make a lot of noise and attract more attention, Jaime went back down the same way he had gone up: he climbed down the storm drain and through the window, right into the room Richard had taken over. 

[color=tomato]“OI, DICKCHEESE, BEANPOLE. Get your asses up these god damn fucking stairs and bring all your shit with you! Deadbrains incoming, about two dozen, maybe more.”[/color]

Well, that timing couldn't have been better, could it? Jaime slipped into the room right as the dickbag called for him, already awake and already aware of the danger. 'Course, he decided to be [i]considerably[/i] less tactful and subtle in warning them than Jaime was. That probably just got the walkers' collective attention even more. Dumbass.

[color=6ecff6]"I think we can-"[/color] And as usual, Jaime was steamrolled by the much stronger personality that was Richard "Dickbag" McDickface barking off orders. Rather than fight it, Jaime just went along with the orders. He positioned himselfon one side of the furniture and began pushing in tandem with his "amigos," resentful of being told to "pick up the pace" when he was practically already there before the order was even given.

[color=6ecff6]"Andale, andale!"[/color] Jaime muttered sarcastically under his breath, between heaves.